Chapter 25: The Captured Imperial Prince of the Enemy Country’s Canary 12

Outside the window, it was twilight. The sky was decorated with enchanting warm orange clouds.

Inside the room, behind the screen, the dusky light filtered through the paper windows.

Lin Muqing’s flushed little face remained bowed low, not daring to lift her head.

But because of how she was sitting—and the way he stood before her—

From her eye level…

Jun Yuanming let out a low chuckle, his gaze deepening. Her head lowered even more.

Flustered, her mind fogged. Her hands, originally tucked over her abdomen, accidentally tugged loose the lavender-pink sash at her waist. The ribbon beneath her chest slowly unraveled.

“Aren’t you usually quite bold?”

Her chin was lifted by his fingertip. The red lips she had been biting were rubbed gently by his thumb.

“Don’t bite your lips.”

“Y-Your Majesty… Do you like boldness?” she seemed to summon courage, gazing at him with misty, luminous eyes.

The word “like” was unfamiliar to him.

And it was a word they had never truly explored—always teetering on the edge of reason.

Once that edge was crossed, reason would vanish, leaving only impulse.

But he hadn’t realized—his actions had long since betrayed a fondness already present.

Jun Yuanming suddenly leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her, eyes now level with hers.

“Qing’er, no matter what you’re like… I like you.”

His cool, deep voice held a rare tenderness.

At that moment, Lin Muqing slowly smiled, the curve of her lips as perfect as a crescent moon.

“I like Your Majesty too.”

She pulled the loosened sash fully off and tossed it to the floor—but didn’t remove anything else.

Instead, her hands went to Jun Yuanming’s lean, powerful waist.

Gripping his belt—

She tugged.

The room was silent, filled only with the sound of breathing—and the soft slide of a belt falling.

The outer layer of her palace robe slipped from her shoulders, revealing a sheer undergarment clinging to her alluring figure.

With a sudden pull, his large hands traced along her fair skin—

Lightly outlining her form.

“Your Majesty…”

Her voice was low, soft, and sweet; her cheeks were flushed, eyes wet with mist.

A glimpse of red clothing showed beneath.

Jun Yuanming’s thoughts were momentarily scattered.

He slowly removed her hairpin, and her black hair cascaded like a waterfall—enticing and seductive.

He suddenly pulled her toward his chest, his strong arms lifting her from the chair, holding her face to face.

With a swift turn, he pinned her against the crimson pillar.

One hand supported her; the other cradled the back of her head.

He kissed her deeply—fiercely—abandoning all former restraint, poise, and authority.

Like a beast claiming its prey, he revealed his most dominant, primal side, holding her tightly in his embrace.

Breathless—their breathing had likely never calmed to begin with.

Lin Muqing’s hand, dangling at her side, clutched the edge of his loose robe. She slowly closed her eyes—

Clinging to him.

Kissing back.

Their clothes scattered across the floor…

Until they finally fell into the bathing pool.

—

The next morning.

At the hour of Yin (around 4–6 a.m.), Eunuch Qin arrived at the Hall of Mental Cultivation, waiting for the emperor to wake so he could attend to him.

But muffled sounds and soft moans had continued intermittently all night.

As the sky brightened and the sun rose slowly from the east, Eunuch Qin paced back and forth outside, hesitating for a long time—even imagining his own execution.

Finally, he took a deep breath, placed his hand on the red lacquered moon-gate door, and knocked gently.

Cautiously, he reminded:

“Your Majesty, it is time for the morning court.”

Inside the room, even after hearing the voice, Jun Yuanming didn’t stop.

Only after a long while did he finally rise.

His tall, muscular body was fully revealed—bronzed skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, highlighting his defined chest and abs, droplets rolling down.

He went to the side hall to wash. Cold water ran over every inch of his skin. His eyes half-closed, head tilted back, he exuded a kind of unspeakable languor.

Then he went to clean her up as well and replaced the bed.

Only when Jun Yuanming called for him did Eunuch Qin dare open the door and enter—

To help dress His Majesty in his morning court robes.

As he did so, he caught a glimpse of numerous thin red marks across the emperor’s back through the inner garment.

His expression was indescribable—part disbelief, part shock, and thoroughly stunned. In short, extremely complicated.

Jun Yuanming put on his purple round-collar robe, fastened with a deep purple belt. He walked back to the bedchamber with calm, stately steps. His tall, refined appearance had returned to its usual composure and majesty, his every move exuding the aura of a ruler.

“I’m off to morning court now. Qing’er, go back to sleep.”

He whispered softly into the ear of the sleeping girl.

Whether Lin Muqing heard or not, she let out a light hum from her throat.

Jun Yuanming turned and left.

—

Lin Muqing didn’t wake until midday, still dazed and sluggish.

She hadn’t slept at all the night before—Jun Yuanming’s stamina was maddening.

Fortunately, she had taken a recovery potion the day before. It felt like her bones had been replaced, her physical condition excellent. She wasn’t in pain.

Otherwise, she’d be walking around holding her waist and shoulders—her back would’ve snapped.

Last night, she realized Jun Yuanming had a hidden obsession with waists and shoulders—truly a strange fetish.

She sat up slowly and discovered Jun Yuanming was already standing at a luxurious desk nearby—

Practicing calligraphy, it seemed.

The blanket had slipped off, and a chill ran over her skin—marked all over in purplish bruises. The bedding had been changed, her body felt especially clean.

When did she bathe?

And this wasn’t even the same bed as last night.

At the bedhead, she saw new palace robes and beautiful accessories and hairpieces. She picked them up and slowly dressed.

She walked up behind Jun Yuanming and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Your Majesty, why didn’t you wake me?”

“Does it still hurt?” he set down the brush.

Lin Muqing had been traumatized by last night’s fiery madness and wasn’t ready for a repeat anytime soon.

“It… hurts.” She buried her face into his broad back.

Jun Yuanming turned. A gentle glow, like fine jade, filled his refined eyes. He pulled her into his arms. “It was my fault.”

Grrr.

“I’m so hungry…”

She peeked over his shoulder, wanting to see what he had written—only to find it was a drawing.

Heavens—it was so touching it nearly took her breath away.