Chapter 58: The Silver Bottle Shatters, Water Gushes

Chapter 58: Like a Silver Vessel Shattering, Waters Burst Forth

Xiao Chen was startled, raising a hand to push away the person beneath him, but Ling Yehan's body slipped away like a fish, evading his grasp.

"Come out."

Ling Yehan's head was submerged, his vision filled with Xiao Chen's disheveled robes drifting in the water. Too nervous to hear the command, and before he could draw closer, he felt a sharp tug on his scalp—someone was yanking his hair. Xiao Chen grabbed him by the hair, pulling the troublesome man out of the water as if yanking a radish from the soil.

Ling Yehan wiped the water from his face, revealing Xiao Chen's flushed and exasperated expression. He rarely saw Xiao Chen so flustered and annoyed; it felt as if kitten paws were kneading his heart. He tried to slip back underwater, but Xiao Chen immediately caught him. Choking back a laugh, Ling Yehan took advantage of the momentum and pressed himself against Xiao Chen, his arms encircling the other's waist through the water. The six-month-pregnant belly was already quite round and full, its curve clearly visible beneath the water.

"Brother, didn't you say I should serve you in bed? Why are you pulling my hair?"

Xiao Chen's ears were red, his voice hoarse: "Is this a bedroom?"

Ling Yehan blinked. So, his brother couldn't accept doing it in the water? He recalled the few history books he'd read—it seemed only depraved emperors enjoyed cavorting in bathing pools. It made sense that his brother, a wise ruler, wouldn't like it. Actually, it was better not to do it in the water; he couldn't breathe properly underwater and was afraid he wouldn't serve him well.

He held onto Xiao Chen's body, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His own body felt as if it had been thrown into a blazing furnace, and the closer he got to Xiao Chen, the hotter he felt. But he didn't dare transfer that heat to Xiao Chen, so he settled for pressing his cheek against his body, savoring the contact. Unable to resist, he reached out and touched the rounded belly, then looked up and smiled coaxingly at Xiao Chen.

"Brother, let me wash your back."

Since becoming pregnant, Xiao Chen rarely allowed palace attendants to assist him during baths, but he didn't refuse this time. Ling Yehan wrung out a towel, adjusted his own robe to cover his private parts, and diligently set to work scrubbing Xiao Chen's back. He had noticed Xiao Chen pressing his hand against his waist several times in the carriage, so he submerged his hands underwater and massaged the pressure points with the technique and pressure the imperial physician had taught him. The warm pool water and the perfectly measured massage relaxed Xiao Chen's waist. Leaning against the side of the pool, Xiao Chen slowly closed his eyes.

After a while, something pressed against his lips. Opening his eyes, he saw it was his usual glass cup. Ling Yehan peeked over his shoulder.

"Brother, have some grape juice. Rest if you're tired. I'll serve you well."

The corners of Xiao Chen's lips lifted slightly. He took a few sips of the grape juice from Ling Yehan's hand, his voice languid. "Mm."

Ling Yehan remembered the imperial physician's advice that Xiao Chen shouldn't bathe for too long. He kept an eye on the hourglass. Xiao Chen was much more relaxed, though the steam had left him feeling limp all over. When he opened his eyes and glanced at Ling Yehan, Ling Yehan's legs nearly gave way.

Ling Yehan carried Xiao Chen, now dressed in a golden silk sleep robe with a side-fastening collar, from the bathing chamber to the inner hall. Xiao Chen closed his eyes, able to feel the scorching heat of Ling Yehan's skin. Ling Yehan, holding the person in his arms, felt as if his entire body were on fire. The candlelit inner hall had its curtains drawn layer by layer, and all the palace attendants had been dismissed. Though Ling Yehan tried to breathe lightly, he felt his pounding heart might disturb Xiao Chen. Gently, he laid Xiao Chen on the bed and licked his dry lips.

Xiao Chen's cheeks were also flushed. That familiar heat swept through him again. The temperature and touch of the skin beside him stirred his desires, but unlike Ling Yehan's nervousness, his expression remained languidly noble. He reached out and hooked his fingers into Ling Yehan's collar, pulling him closer. The scent of Xiao Chen overwhelmed Ling Yehan's senses. His hands, moving faster than his thoughts, wrapped around Xiao Chen's waist, and he nestled close, gently skimming his lips against Xiao Chen's ear.

Xiao Chen shivered slightly. That tiny reaction sent an indescribable thrill through Ling Yehan. His hands slipped under the sleeping robe, instinctively stroking along his spine and waist. His palms were fiery, as if setting every inch of skin ablaze. Xiao Chen's breathing began to become erratic.

Ling Yehan kissed his eyebrows, eyelids, cheeks, and lips, trailing down along his collarbone. The scene from Qinghui Pavilion flashed in his mind, and his breathing grew ragged. Gently, he untied the loosely fastened sash at the waist. The rounded belly came into view, and his fingers hooked lightly into the edge of the underwear.

Xiao Chen's eyes were flushed red. His belly had grown increasingly prominent, and leaning back like this, he couldn't see what Ling Yehan's hands were doing. But the sensation only intensified the searing desire. Some part of him even longed for Ling Yehan's actions, though reason resisted letting him do such things. He pushed lightly at the man above him, his voice low and hoarse.

"Don't."

Ling Yehan looked up, almost instantly grasping his meaning. Was he afraid he would hurt him? His eyes were wide and sincere.

"I learned well. I won't hurt you."

Xiao Chen wondered if Ling Yehan's brain wasn't quite right. His face burned.

"I said you don't need to serve me like this."

With that, he tried to push away the big head, but Ling Yehan dodged, holding him tighter. He kissed his belly and secretly touched him lower down.

"But I want to. This way, you can just lie there. It's very effortless."

These words seemed to dance right on Xiao Chen's nerves. Zhang Fu's earlier comments resurfaced in his mind, making him laugh in exasperation.

"Does the Marquis think I'm old and no longer vigorous, that I need you to serve me like this?"

Ling Yehan's hair stood on end. He shook his head like a rattle-drum.

"I didn't! Those two were talking nonsense! I just said I had someone I liked and didn't know how to serve them. Who knew they'd come up with all that?"

Xiao Chen glanced at the man crouching before him and closed his eyes.

"Why did you go there today?"

Ling Yehan suddenly lay down beside him, holding him close. His hands wandered mischievously, not daring to look Xiao Chen in the eye, but his tone held a hint of complaint.

"Brother, you obviously wanted it. I saw everything that night. It's your fault for being too reserved to tell me. I even tried to seduce you, but you didn't bite. Maybe my seduction skills weren't good enough, so I thought I'd go out and learn properly."

He had been afraid Xiao Chen would suffer from pent-up desire. That's why he had tried to seduce him those past few days, but Xiao Chen had acted as if he didn't notice, forcing Ling Yehan to seek outside help.

Xiao Chen was stunned by these words. That night? He suddenly remembered the night he had that erotic dream—so Ling Yehan had seen everything. A wave of humiliated anger washed over him.

"What? So it's my fault now?"

Xiao Chen's angry tone instantly wiped away Ling Yehan's earlier complaint. His eyes cleared, and he nuzzled against him ingratiatingly. Without another word, he lifted the hem of his robe, kissed his belly, and moved downward. Xiao Chen's breath hitched. Ling Yehan suppressed his own restlessness and moved gently until the man above him emitted sounds of impatience. Only then did he feel he hadn't done wrong.

Xiao Chen had always been proper and rarely did anything outrageous. Now, he felt as if all the blood in his body were boiling. He tilted his head back slightly, fine sweat beading on his temples. His fingers unconsciously gripped the bedsheets, and he couldn't control the sounds escaping his lips.

Soaring through the clouds, floating in the heavens—Ling Yehan's movements grew increasingly rapid. Xiao Chen's body tensed abruptly before going limp. The silver vessel shattered, water gushing forth.

Xiao Chen's chest was flushed red, his rounded belly rising and falling rapidly with his hurried breaths, his face deeply flushed. He opened his eyes to look at the man below him, his voice unsteady but urgent.

"Go rinse your mouth."

Ling Yehan blinked, his thick lashes clinging to his lower lids. When he looked up, his eyelashes were damp with sweat.

Xiao Chen averted his gaze, unable to bear the sight. Sensing his embarrassment, Ling Yehan finally climbed off the bed. Xiao Chen leaned back on the bed and slowly closed his eyes. The space around him felt as hot as if several heating stoves had been placed beside him.

In his past life, he had experienced this feeling before. Back then, he had felt ashamed and disgraced, forcing himself to ignore it every time. But now... it seemed he no longer needed to endure.

Ling Yehan climbed back onto the bed. Xiao Chen didn't open his eyes.

"Next time, don't do this."

"I like it. I want to."

Ling Yehan was actually suffering too. The sounds Xiao Chen had made were more potent than the strongest aphrodisiac. He was unbearably uncomfortable. When Xiao Chen opened his eyes, he saw Ling Yehan's pathetic state.

The scorching heat grew even more intense. He pulled Ling Yehan over and, with his other hand, swiftly stripped off his clothes. Ling Yehan felt a chill as he was laid bare. His face flushed crimson, and he instinctively tried to hide, but Xiao Chen held him fast.

Xiao Chen looked down, a smile tugging at his lips. He poked Ling Yehan's chest, making him shudder, and said teasingly,

"Come on, let's not let our Marquis develop any problems from pent-up frustration."

The only sound within the curtains was the rustling of fabric. At that moment, both their breaths grew ragged. Ling Yehan used every ounce of his self-control to keep his movements gentle, afraid of hurting Xiao Chen. This slow, cautious pace was like turning a millstone—it lacked the anticipated pleasure and instead left them suspended, unable to find release. Xiao Chen's frustration grew, his irritation mounting. His eyes glistened with moisture, his cheeks flushed even deeper, and his tone carried a hint of annoyance.

"Didn't you eat dinner?"

Ling Yehan, who was already bursting with pent-up desire, looked up. His eyes were also misty, filled with grievance, his voice strained with suppressed panting.

"I really didn't eat."

Xiao Chen's breathing was rapid, his phoenix eyes filled with anger.

"If you keep dawdling like this, get off me."

Seeing that he meant it, Ling Yehan finally let go of his restraints and moved more freely. Xiao Chen's knuckles turned white as he gripped the brocade quilt.

"Mmm..."