Chapter 25: No More Binding

By the time Ning Zhaorou’s inner garment had come loose, Yin Mingyu pressed down on her hand. His voice was gentle, but brooked no argument.
“That’s enough.”

Ning Zhaorou froze mid-movement, looking a little dazed. At that moment, she was picked up. She instinctively held onto the emperor’s shoulder. As they left the chair behind, he carried her into the inner chamber. Behind the screen was a wide, luxurious bed.

Her pupils shrank. She couldn’t help but clutch at Yin Mingyu’s robe.

As her body fell back onto the bed, her hands still refused to let go—until Yin Mingyu gave her lower back a light, measured pat. Only then did she release her grip and tumble into the softness of the brocade bedding.

Her inner garment had already come undone and now hung loosely off her shoulders. The underlayer beneath it was messy, concealing what lay beneath.

“…Your Majesty?” she called out in confusion.

Yin Mingyu nodded, standing before the bed and looking down upon her delicate form. He reached out and undid her undergarments as well.

Though he hadn’t fully seen this body the last time, he’d held and touched it enough. What a pity—didn’t it hurt, being bound so tightly?

Ning Zhaorou wanted to curl up, but didn’t dare. She did her best to keep her posture composed, allowing the emperor’s fingers to explore her body.

Yin Mingyu motioned for her to sit up.

The binding cloth around her chest was tied at the side. As soon as the knot was undone, it unraveled, layer by layer.

She wore a pale pink dudou embroidered with camellia flowers—soft and full to the eye.

She kept her head lowered in silence. She looked obedient, but inside her heart felt sour and helpless.

Her chin was lifted, and she met Yin Mingyu’s gaze directly.

“Alright. Put your clothes back on,” he said, then let go and turned to leave, giving her a moment of privacy behind the screen.

Yet, his gaze lingered for a moment on the cloth she’d taken off.
“You’re not to bind yourself with that thing again. Get dressed and come out.”

With that, he left without another word.

Ning Zhaorou opened her mouth but said nothing, only silently watching his figure disappear. It was a long time before she reached for her clothes on the bed and hastily dressed herself.

The pale cloth lay quietly at the side, proof that what had just happened was no dream. Ning Zhaorou felt flustered, glanced around, and finally slipped the binding cloth under the covers to hide it.

Worried Yin Mingyu might grow impatient waiting, she carefully stepped out. This time, when she sat on his lap again, she was much less stiff.

Yin Mingyu gave her a light pat on the rear to help her settle into position, then helped her into her outer robe. Only after that did he gently press her head to lean against his shoulder.

Once the cloth around her chest had come off, Ning Zhaorou could breathe far more easily. But now, her clothes fit a little too tightly—it was obvious they no longer suited her shape.

Holding her in his arms, Yin Mingyu lightly brushed her cheek with his fingers and asked,
“Why did you keep binding yourself like that? Didn’t it hurt?”

The last time he saw her in the tent, she’d also been bound like that. He had removed it then—yet now she had put it back on again.

Ning Zhaorou hesitated, finding it difficult to explain, but didn’t dare lie. She answered honestly,
“Too… too full. It’s not proper. Girls from decent families wouldn’t look like that.”

Yin Mingyu’s eyes sharpened, his tone turning cold.
“Who told you that?”

Ning Zhaorou stammered,
“They all say that… the governess, and the girls from other households.”

In the household, once the girls grew older, they would be instructed by a governess. As Ning Zhaorou’s figure matured, even the slightest hint of delicate charm would be condemned as indecent. Beyond that, when she attended the academy, girls from other families would sneer at her too, saying only women from the pleasure districts looked like that.

She had been young then and cried herself to sleep at night from the shame. Eventually, she found a way—by tightly binding herself with cloth.

But now, she had just heard Yin Mingyu say—it was wrong.

A flicker of confusion crossed Ning Zhaorou’s eyes.
She didn’t understand: what exactly was wrong?

“If you’re out all day, you’ll bind yourself all day? How foolish. Don’t you know it hurts?” Yin Mingyu frowned, then sighed lightly with a trace of anger. Just what kind of place was the Marquis of Anping’s estate, to raise a girl into this state?

Ning Zhaorou grew anxious, afraid he was upset. After a moment of thought, she said considerately,
“If Your Majesty doesn’t want this subject to bind anymore, then I won’t bind at all from now on.”

Yin Mingyu reasoned with her—while adding a little intimidation:
“You truly can’t bind anymore. Pain from pressure is one thing—but aren’t you afraid of damaging it? If it ends up looking strange, don’t come crying to me later.”

“It can… get damaged?” Ning Zhaorou was startled, sitting up abruptly. Her hands instinctively covered her modest chest, and she asked sincerely.

“It can,” Yin Mingyu confirmed, deliberately scaring her while refraining from touching her.
“If something goes wrong with that part of you, what will you do? Ask the imperial physician? If anyone dares take even a look, I’ll gouge out his eyes. When that time comes and you beg me, I’ll say you brought it upon yourself. Who told you to be disobedient?”

Ning Zhaorou tightened her little face, clearly frightened by his words. In a small voice, she replied,
“I won’t bind anymore. I’ll be very obedient.”

Only then did Yin Mingyu seem a little satisfied. He leaned in and gently kissed the center of her forehead, then her nose tip, and praised her:
“Good girl.”

After that tender kiss, Yin Mingyu asked whether she had been taking her medicine properly.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ve been drinking it every day, haven’t missed a dose.”

“But you don’t weigh much at all when I hold you. Do you still get cold at night when you sleep?”

Without thinking, Ning Zhaorou shook her head.

Yin Mingyu shot her a sideways glance and warned her not to lie:
“Think again before answering.”

Her head froze in mid-shake. With a furrowed brow, she carefully recalled and gave a much more thoughtful reply this time:
“Most nights I sleep well… but sometimes, my feet get cold.”

Cold feet?

Yin Mingyu wordlessly took her hand in his and said he’d have the physician take a look shortly.

The wind on the upper floor of the lakeside pavilion had picked up, and worried she might catch a chill, he brought her inside. Not long after, the imperial physician arrived and checked Ning Zhaorou’s pulse.

It was the same physician as last time, but this time he was even more cautious. Upon examining her pulse, he found it noticeably stronger than before and quietly breathed a sigh of relief as he reported the findings.

“She mentioned her feet get cold at night. Could it be due to coldness in her constitution?” Yin Mingyu asked, resting his hand lightly on Ning Zhaorou’s lower abdomen as he gently stroked the area.

Ning Zhaorou’s breathing quickened. Her eyes widened, and she turned her head to look at him. No matter how slow-witted she might be, she understood the meaning behind his words—a woman with a cold constitution often struggles with conception.

If she had trouble bearing children, would she still be able to enter the palace?

“I-I don’t feel cold every night… only sometimes…” She tried to explain, but was silenced when Yin Mingyu pressed a finger to her lips.

The physician was standing nearby. Yin Mingyu soothed her nerves with soft kisses at the corner of her eyes and her cheeks, then quietly waited for the physician to speak.

Imperial Physician Chen mulled over his words, then finally said:
“Reporting to Your Majesty, this young lady is indeed a little weak, and there may be some degree of internal cold. But with proper nourishment and care, it should not differ from the average person. It poses no real issue for childbearing.”

“Mm. You may go,” said Yin Mingyu.

From his tone, no one could tell whether he was pleased or not.

The physician quickly withdrew.

On the bed, Yin Mingyu looked at the clearly rattled Ning Zhaorou and calmly said something that finally steadied her heart:
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t want you. Whether you can bear children or not, I still want you.”

“I just needed to ask about your condition, so you won’t suffer later.”

Ning Zhaorou opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated. In the end, it seemed she wasn’t used to hearing such direct words of care and affirmation. Her ears flushed red, and she nodded vigorously.
“Thank you for your grace.”