Chapter 24: Kiss Me

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As the music of the dance ended, Xuyang couldn’t help clapping and praising, “Why do I suddenly feel like the one who should’ve died in the end was the Emperor?”

Yuan Zheng laughed. “Let’s just say they danced so well, it felt like we were truly part of the scene.”

The others in the building also applauded in admiration.

Juchen leaned lazily on her slender arm and opened her eyes. The first thing that came into view was the faint outline of her waist—barely concealed.

Song Mi was still in a daze when the person in his arms propped herself up, glanced at him lightly, and said in a low voice, “Go change.”

The two of them left together and headed to the dressing rooms on the lower floor.

This time, Juchen walked ahead, and Song Mi slowly followed behind, not deliberately walking side by side as before.

Turning the corridor corner, she suddenly turned back, leaned her head against his chest, summoned all her strength, and pushed him against the corner pillar, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.

He instinctively lifted his chin—refusing her advance.

Juchen accidentally bumped into his Adam’s apple and hurriedly reached out to touch it. “Does it hurt?”

Song Mi caught her hand, his dark eyes even deeper in the dim light, his voice cold: “Weren’t you… the one who said you didn’t want this anymore?”

Or maybe… after hearing Yuan Zheng wasn’t a virgin, she got upset and came running to him in desperation?

Seeing his cold expression, Juchen’s brief courage disappeared. She stood there helplessly, biting her lower lip.

That night, he must’ve waited for her a long time.

And she had let him down.

He was a busy man. Any free time he had was carved out, not like some idle young man by the pond, waiting to be summoned at her whim. Did she think he could be picked up or tossed aside whenever she felt like it?

When one feels wronged, it’s hard to consider the other person’s feelings. But now, she realized she had brought this upon herself.

She quietly inhaled and sincerely apologized. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice was soft, and if one listened closely, there was a trace of a sob in it.

To Song Mi’s ears, her expression seemed as if he had seduced her and then abandoned her. But from start to finish, all he did was stop her from kissing him just now.

He stayed silent. Juchen, anxious, wanted to explain herself. She opened her mouth but, seeing his cold expression, realized she had no one to blame but herself.

It’s not like he had to want her. Why should he always give in to her?

The more she thought about it, the sadder she felt. Her nose tingled with the urge to cry. She released her grip on his arm, took two steps back, and turned to leave.

After turning another corner and arriving at her dressing room, Juchen sniffled and opened the door. Just as she stepped in, her wrist was suddenly grabbed from behind.

Song Mi closed the door, turned her around, raised her hands above her head, pressed his tall body against hers, and—imitating what she had just done—pinned her firmly against the door.

—

Upstairs, the room was still filled with laughter and chatter.

Xuyang played another round of the drum-passing game, but Juchen still hadn’t returned.

Remembering the glass of wine Juchen had earlier, Xuyang began to worry and wanted to go find her. But she herself had drunk quite a bit and staggered as she stood up.

Yuan Zheng pulled her back into her seat. “This is your home, and hers too. How could she get lost here?”

“But she drank,” Xuyang said cautiously. “She has a low tolerance. What if someone takes advantage of her…”

“Who would dare?” Yuan Zheng frowned in disbelief. “Everyone in this residence is someone you’re familiar with. As for outsiders, almost all of them are here. The only one not present—do you think he would do something like that?”

Xuyang hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right.”

The drumbeat resumed, thudding across the loft’s wooden floor and echoing down toward the rooms below.

The urgent, rhythmic pounding mirrored the frantic beat of Juchen’s heart.

Inside the locked dressing room at the end of the corridor, the room was dim—only a sliver of moonlight filtering through the door crack and reflected in the man’s star-like eyes.

With a few pulls and tugs, the girl’s dance gown gathered around her waist. As his palm gripped her, the snowy mounds changed shape completely.

Song Mi’s hand was large, holding and kneading with unrelenting focus.

Juchen sat on the tall dressing bench near the door. Waves of tingling heat rose along her spine, her mind turning to mush.

The man leaned forward, his prominent nose nestled into her pale neck, softly kissing but careful not to leave a mark. His eyes glanced downward—like twin plum blossoms blooming sweetly upon snow.

Xuyang wasn’t wrong—she was indeed well-endowed.

Who knew if it was a man’s natural instinct or if he was just particularly skilled at pleasing her? With only his touch and kiss, he left her gasping for air.

Juchen trembled, her knees brushing against him. That all-too-familiar sensation made her heart pound faster than the drums upstairs. She instinctively started tugging at his clothes.

Song Mi’s pupils darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but reason remained. He grabbed her hand. “Madam Li wants to get pregnant out of wedlock?”

This wasn’t the secluded villa, no incense burning, no herbal pouches to prevent pregnancy on the bedposts.

Juchen parted her lips, about to say her period was due soon so she likely wouldn’t conceive—but swallowed the words, afraid he’d think she was trying to trap him with a child.

She whispered, “Our first time… didn’t count.”

Song Mi’s gaze lingered for a moment, then broke into a helpless smile. He pinched her cheek. “Still holding onto that slim hope?”

Besides, that first time—because he didn’t want to hurt her too much—he hadn’t even…

A blush swept across her cheeks. Leaning on his shoulder, she reflected on what she’d just said—it really did sound a bit shameless. But tonight, she had been the one to seduce him.

Flushed, she lowered her gaze, hesitant, then reached out to help him—just a little—so he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

The moment she touched him, Song Mi’s eyes darkened further. He grabbed her hand, placed it against his chest, and ordered hoarsely: “Kiss me.”

Juchen raised his face, closed her eyes, and obeyed.

They always kissed. Juchen often initiated it. But no matter how they started, Song Mi always took over in the end. His kisses, unlike his usual composed demeanor, were aggressive and possessive, often leaving Juchen defenseless.

This was the first time he let her lead. Her kisses were soft and inexperienced—like a young green fruit dropped into a mountain spring.

She was focused, earnest.

Song Mi, clearly pleased, let out a breathy laugh between kisses. “So obedient?”

“You don’t like it?” Juchen paused to catch her breath, her lips red and glistening.

Song Mi pinched her cheek. “So obedient, and yet you still broke your promise.”

He hadn’t let go of that night. Though his actions said they’d reconciled, his words still held her accountable.

Caught off guard by his question, Juchen didn’t know what to say. Could she tell him she was hiding behind the curtain that day?

That she couldn’t let him go, so she acted out of pride? Would he think she was being difficult? After all, she had promised from the start that once he married and had children, she’d leave.

Feeling aggrieved, but afraid to tell the truth, her eyes grew moist. She clung to his shoulder and muttered hoarsely, “Why didn’t you wear the robe I gave you?”

Song Mi fell silent.

Juchen pressed closer. “You didn’t like it?”

He said, “No.”

“Then why?”

“Because Prince Consort Yuan has the same one.”

Juchen’s head shot up. “What?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” she replied, sniffling.

She meant she hadn’t seen Yuan Zheng’s new cloak.

But to Song Mi, her nasal tone sounded pitiful—as if one day apart felt like years—which made his gaze darken. He suddenly pinched her breast hard.

Juchen gasped in pain, the sound laced with a hint of flirtation—only provoking him further.

He bent down to kiss her again. Juchen leaned back under the intensity of his kiss, nearly hitting the door. He cupped the back of her head protectively.

His tender gesture melted her heart—until he kissed her so hard she couldn’t breathe.

He gripped the back of her neck, refusing to let her escape, repeatedly kissing her breathless, only to let her recover at the last moment—again and again—tormenting and delighting her.

So, this was about the matching cloak?

For someone of his status, wearing the same outfit as someone else—it was unbearable.

Finally, when she caught a moment to breathe, she explained, “I didn’t do it on purpose. I really didn’t know he had that cloak.”

Her eyes were red, her breath unsteady from his kisses. She stared at him—clear, tear-bright eyes like obsidian pools, reflecting only his chiseled face.

Looking at her, Song Mi suddenly had the urge to cover her eyes. Maybe only then could he avoid being bewitched.

But he couldn’t bear to. He couldn’t stand the way she looked at only him.

He let out a low laugh—mocking himself. Even if her words were lies, sweet poison—he’d believe them, as long as she said them.

“It’s fine now.” Song Mi raised a finger and gently rubbed her reddened eyelids.

Feeling the need to make it up to him, Juchen kissed him again.

Their bodies pressed closer. Juchen sat on the high stool, feet off the ground. Song Mi stood before her, responding to her kiss, while his hand trailed downward, fingertips gleaming with dampness.

Juchen blushed, instinctively closing her legs—only for him to stop her with his arm.

“Relax,” he whispered huskily, half coaxing, half commanding.

Her shoulders trembled, about to obey—

Knock knock knock—

“Ah-Chen?”

Yuan Zheng’s familiar voice accompanied the sudden knock on the door.

Juchen’s body froze. Her eyes flew open, her heart leaping into her throat. Panicked, she looked at Song Mi.

But he refused to move away—intensifying his actions instead.

Juchen’s beautiful eyes widened in alarm.

Outside, Yuan Zheng saw no lights inside the room and scratched his head in confusion.

Just as he turned to leave and search elsewhere, he suddenly heard a thump—the sound of something bumping into the door from inside.

His gaze sharpened. He reached for the door handle and, before pushing it open, called out again:

“Ah-Chen? Are you in there?”

“…Yes!”