Time: Autumn of the first year of Jinghe, during a period of exceptionally heavy administrative duties
Deep into the night, a solitary lamp still burned in the study of the Marquis of Wen'an's residence.
Ai Miao set down the last document he had reviewed, massaging his throbbing temples with his knuckles. Throughout the day, he had navigated the court's cunning old foxes, then discussed state affairs with Gu Lian in the imperial study until the palace gates closed. He had maintained absolute composure and self-control.
Yet now, in the stillness broken only by the occasional crackle of the candle flame, images deliberately suppressed during the day surged uncontrollably to the surface— Gu Lian leaning over the desk in the imperial study, their breath warm and close as they studied a map together; During a break in deliberations, the emperor's fingertips, calloused from labor, had brushed his nape as if by accident; even earlier, on the training grounds, Gu Lian's taut, fluid lines as he drew his bow, and the bright yellow fabric clinging damp with sweat to his lower back...
A familiar, searing impulse surged from his lower abdomen, arriving with sudden, embarrassing intensity. Ai Miao closed his eyes, attempting to suppress it with reason, but his mind flashed back to Gu Lian's parting glance today—that look carrying unmasked possessiveness and some profound, pent-up desire.
It was like a key, shattering the dam he had painstakingly built.
He drew a deep breath, leaning back against the chair with resigned acceptance. His slender fingers trembled imperceptibly as they undid the jade sash at his waist, slipping beneath the layers of his official robes. In his mind echoed the emperor's low, amused voice, those eyes that always burned too intensely when fixed upon him...
The act was brief and silent, only his stifled, broken gasps echoing distinctly in the quiet study. When the spine-tingling shudder passed, it was followed by an even deeper void and self-loathing. He slumped in his chair, clothes disheveled, eyes closed, long lashes casting weary shadows beneath them, as if he had just endured a silent defeat.
He needed something to dispel this momentary weakness and descent. Instinctively, he pulled open the bottom secret compartment of his desk. It contained no tobacco, only a small jar of menthol oil—a tribute from the Western Regions, as Gu Lian had insisted when she'd forced it upon him days ago. He dabbed a small amount onto his fingertips and massaged it into his temples. The sharp, cooling scent instantly pierced his mind, clearing his muddled thoughts.
It was this moment of relaxation, this instant of focus on banishing the lingering echoes of desire, that made him overlook the deliberately quiet footsteps approaching from afar.
"My loyal minister, toiling late into the night—did you not even notice the Emperor's arrival?"
Gu Lian's deep, amused voice echoed from the doorway, tinged with playful amusement.
Ai Miao stiffened abruptly, his eyes snapping open. Gu Lian had appeared at the study door unnoticed, clad in black court robes. Leaning against the doorframe, he regarded him with a faint, ambiguous smile. The emperor's gaze swept swiftly over his robes, still not fully arranged, then across the unnatural flush at the corners of his eyes. Finally, it settled on his fingertips, still clinging to the scent of mentholated balm, fingers he hadn't yet withdrawn.
The air seemed to freeze in that instant.
Gu Lian approached slowly, the scent of dragon's drool incense gradually enveloping the space. He stopped before the desk, his gaze settling on the open jar before shifting back to Ai Miao's face—a face straining for composure yet betraying a hint of disarray.
"I never knew," Gu Lian leaned forward, one hand braced against the back of Ai Miao's chair, trapping him within inches. His voice was hushed, his hot breath brushing against Ai Miao's ear. "That my Lord Wen'an... has such a taste for this 'afterwards'?"
Ai Miao's fingers curled, his instinct to avert that scorching gaze thwarted when Gu Lian's fingertips gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet those eyes—abyssal in depth, now smoldering with hidden fire.
"Your Majesty..." His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse with the aftermath as he struggled to maintain his duty as a subject.
Gu Lian's gaze swept over his face, examining him like a lost treasure recovered, or savoring the final struggle of prey before capture. There was no blame, no surprise in that look—only a deep, almost pleasurable desire, fully understood and possessed.
"What are you hiding from?" Gu Lian's thumb gently traced his slightly flushed cheek, his voice low and dangerous, tinged with an unquestionable possessiveness. "Tell me... just now, who was it you were thinking of?"
Ai Miao's breath caught abruptly.
Gu Lian's fingertips seemed electrified, sending a wave of fine tremors wherever they touched. He tried to turn his head away, but his jaw was firmly held captive by those fingers, calloused yet soft, forcing him to meet the bottomless depths of those eyes.
"Your Majesty..." His Adam's apple bobbed as the absurdity he'd tried to dismiss earlier tangled with the raw embarrassment of being caught, binding him tight. Reason told him to deny it, to find some plausible excuse, but beneath that all-seeing gaze, any lie felt hollow and futile.
Gu Lian showed no urgency for an answer. His thumb slid slowly downward, tracing the faint flush on Ai Miao's neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath the skin. That beat betrayed a restlessness far from the calm exterior.
"Refusing to speak?" Gu Lian chuckled softly, his other hand reaching for the desk and precisely picking up the jar of menthol oil. He glanced down at it, then raised his eyes again, his gaze serene yet carrying an invisible pressure. "Then let me guess..."
He leaned closer, the scent of ambergris nearly enveloping Ai Miao entirely.
"Are you thinking about where I touched you here..." His fingertip traced Ai Miao's collarbone, pressing through the fabric with measured pressure, "...during the day?"
Ai Miao's lashes fluttered violently.
"Or were you thinking..." Gu Lian's voice lowered further, like a lover's whisper, yet its content was breathtaking, "...of how, in the Imperial Study, I held your hands from behind while teaching you to correct papers... of the breath against your ear?"
Ai Miao closed his eyes, trying to steady his mind, but the faint tremor in his body betrayed him. Those deliberately forgotten, suppressed sensations were now laid bare by Gu Lian's words, more concrete than his own earlier imaginings, more... irresistible.
"Or..." Gu Lian's gaze swept over the faint red marks still visible at the edge of his slightly open collar—traces of unconscious scratching during their passion. His eyes darkened abruptly, tinged with a dangerous edge. "My minister, do you find me... insufficiently devoted? Unable to satisfy you, forcing you to seek solace alone in the dead of night?"
The possessiveness and subtle displeasure in those words struck Ai Miao like a boulder dropped into his heart. He snapped his eyes open, meeting Gu Lian's deep gaze. The emotions churning within were clear to him—an unquestionable declaration of imperial sovereignty.
"Your Majesty," Ai Miao's voice carried a barely perceptible note of supplication, but more so the helplessness before reason's collapse, "this servant... knows his error."
"Wrong?" Gu Lian savored the word, his fingertips finally lifting from Ai Miao's jaw only to trace the curve of his neck, settling on the first button of his official robe. Slowly, deliberately, he undid it. "I find no fault in you, my minister."
The second button popped open, revealing more of his smooth, pale skin.
"Thinking of me is only natural." His movements were deliberate, carrying an air of complete control, yet his tone was unquestionably commanding. "But..."
The third button came undone, the front of the robe parting to reveal the faint outline of a lean yet well-defined chest beneath.
"Next time," Gu Lian's gaze locked onto the faintly evasive dark eyes beneath, his voice low and resolute, carrying an irrevocable decree, "if I discover you 'self-sufficient' again..."
His fingertips paused upon Ai Miao's rapidly heaving chest, sensing the uncontrolled heartbeat, before finally settling into a light, almost punitive press.
"It won't be so... easily resolved."
The moment the words fell, he abruptly lifted the man horizontally from the chair. Amidst Ai Miao's instinctive low gasp, he strode toward the warm couch in the inner part of the study, intended for brief repose.
"Your Majesty! The documents..." Ai Miao struggled futilely, grasping at the last shred of reason.
"Tomorrow." Gu Lian laid him upon the soft brocade quilt, his dark form descending to envelop him completely, silencing all unspoken words. "Tonight, I shall personally verify... just how far your thoughts had wandered, my minister."
Ai Miao's back sank into the plush brocade before he could steady his breath. Gu Lian's form descended, trapping him within a confined space. The overpowering scent of dragon's saliva incense consumed all his senses.
"Your Majesty…" He turned his head futilely, seeking escape from that scorching gaze. "This is the study…"
"And what of it?" Gu Lian's nimble fingers deftly parted the folds of his disheveled official robe. A warm palm pressed against the skin at his waist, sensing the sudden tension beneath him. A low chuckle escaped his lips. "When you were imagining me pleasuring myself here just moments ago, did you not remember this was a study?"
The bluntness of the words made Ai Miao's ears burn. He tried to protest, but his jaw was seized, forcing his head back to meet Gu Lian's unfathomably deep gaze.
"Tell me," Gu Lian's thumb traced his slightly swollen lower lip, his eyes burning, "were you thinking of me touching you like this?" His fingertips slid slowly down the curve of his waist, carrying an irresistible force.
Ai Miao bit his lower lip, stifling the sound threatening to spill from his throat. Reason told him he should push away, yet his body burned like dry grass set alight, swiftly consumed by Gu Lian's skilled teasing. The fantasies he'd forced himself to suppress now surged back with even greater intensity.
"Or..." Gu Lian leaned closer, his breath brushing against Aimiao's earlobe as his voice grew low and husky, "...were you thinking about how I'd treat you like this?" Before the words had fully left his mouth, he captured the sensitive lobe with his lips, gently nibbling.
"Ah..." Ai Miao shuddered, his fingers unconsciously clenching the brocade quilt beneath him. All resistance crumbled in that instant. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into this familiar yet heart-stopping sensory storm.
Gu Lian's kisses carried a punishing intensity, yet within their twists and turns, a barely perceptible tenderness emerged. His hands roamed over Ai Miao's body, each touch igniting a precise spark of flame. The official robe was stripped completely to his elbows. The cool air brushing against his heated skin sent a shiver through him, only to be instantly replaced by the scorching warmth of another body.
"Seems you've thought it through?" Gu Lian propped himself up, his gaze darkening as he studied the flushed cheeks and faint panting beneath him. He parted Ai Miao's legs, positioning himself between them, fingers tracing slowly upward along the inner thigh. "And this? Have you considered how I might take you?"
Ai Miao's eyes snapped open, his ink-black irises glistening with a mix of terror and surrender. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
Gu Lian needed no answer. He lowered his head, sealing her lips with a kiss that swallowed every whimper and gasp. His movements lost all gentleness, driven by an unquestionable possessiveness. He thrust deep inside, completely filling the emptiness that had previously relied only on imagination.
"Ah..." Ai Miao tilted his head back, his neck arching into a fragile curve. His fingers dug deep into the fabric of Gu Lian's back. The intense impact left his mind blank, filled only with the raw, primal sensations screaming within him.
Gu Lian's movements were fierce and urgent, as if determined to crush the lingering detachment from the menthol balm, to erase every trace of another from his mind. He devoured every flicker of Ai Miao's reaction, listening to the choked, tearful gasps that escaped him. The subtle irritation that had flared when he'd caught the other self-soothing was slowly replaced by a deeper satisfaction.
"Look at me..." He forced Ai Miao's unfocused gaze to meet his own, his movements unrelenting, his voice hoarse with desire. "Who is touching you now?"
Ai Miao's eyes were hazy, tears slipping uncontrollably from his corners. He could only nod instinctively.
"Say it." Gu Lian pressed relentlessly, his movements growing heavier.
"...It's Your Majesty." Ai Miao's voice was broken, laced with sobs.
"Remember this feeling." Gu Lian leaned down, kissing away the dampness at his eyes, his movements still forceful. "Here... here... and here..." His fingertips and actions swept over every sensitive spot on Ai Miao's body, finally pausing at the place where they were tightly joined. He thrust deep inside, "You must think only of the Emperor. Only the Emperor can satisfy you."
When Gu Lian finally released himself, Ai Miao lay limp as spring water, his whimpers too faint to form coherent sounds. Gu Lian held him close, gazing at the dazed, dreamlike expression on his lover's face in the flickering candlelight. His heart filled with a searing, overwhelming sense of fulfillment.
He gently kissed away the moisture from Ai Miao's eyes, as if handling a priceless treasure.
Yet this extreme tenderness was like a sudden flash of light, illuminating the dark abyss within Ai Miao's heart—something deeper and colder than desire, like water plants beneath a dark river, tangling around his heart—it was fear. It wasn't fear of Gu Lian's dominance, but of the self within his grasp—a self whose reason had shattered, whose defenses crumbled, left only to surrender to whatever was demanded. All his lifelong training, whether in scheming or self-cultivation, lay in ruins at this moment.
Gu Lian keenly sensed this subtle stiffness. He said nothing, only tightened his arms, using a firmer embrace and a steady stream of soft kisses on the crown of his head and forehead to silently tell him: I am here. I accept all of you, including your loss of control.
This silent, steadfast reassurance held more power than any words. Ai Miao's taut nerves gradually relaxed within that warm embrace. Physical exhaustion and mental release washed over him like a tide. He found himself too drained to ponder complex calculations or fears anymore, yielding instead to instinct as he curled deeper into the warmth.
The body in his arms, rendered utterly docile and fragile by momentary satisfaction, did nothing to quell the fire burning within Gu Lian's heart. Instead, it acted like the most potent accelerant, instantly fanning the dying embers into a raging inferno. It was a desire to possess that was more intense and irresistible than the first time—he demanded not only that her body remember this moment, but that her very soul be branded with his mark.
After an unknown span of time, a new wave—more violent, more torrential—finally receded. Its lingering aftershocks still pulsed through his veins like ebbing tides.
Exhausted, Ai Miao collapsed into the brocade bedding, his breath still ragged. His official robes lay crumpled around his waist, and his usually meticulously bound jet-black hair spilled wildly across the pillow. His eyes remained closed, long lashes damp and clinging together, fluttering slightly with his slightly hurried breaths. Between his brows lay a rare relaxation after the passion had faded, and a hint of... near-dazed softness.
Gu Lian remained propped beside him, not immediately withdrawing. His deep gaze greedily traced the rare state of the man beneath him. The strategist who was usually coolly self-possessed and flawlessly calculating now had reddened corners of his eyes, slightly swollen lips, and marks bearing a hint of possession scattered across his neck, collarbone, and even lower. A sated, searing warmth flooded his chest.
He reached out, gently brushing away the damp strands of hair from Ai Miao's forehead, his fingertips lingering over the slightly warm skin.
Ai Miao didn't pull away. Instead, under that tender touch, she unconsciously rubbed her forehead against his fingertips like a cat seeking warmth. This subtle, utterly dependent instinctive reaction stirred Gu Lian's heart more deeply than any passionate response could.
"Tired?" " Gu Lian's voice was low and husky, tinged with post-coital languor and unmasked tenderness.
Ai Miao murmured an almost inaudible "Mm," his eyes still closed as if even the strength to open them had been drained. He only whispered indistinctly, "Tomorrow... there's still the canal transport regulations..."
Even now, a thread of official business remained taut in his mind. Gu Lian felt both amusement and heartache. He lowered his head, pressing a tender kiss to the sweat-dampened space between his brows.
"The regulations can wait until tomorrow. I grant you permission to rise an hour later." His tone held unquestionable indulgence as his arms tightened, drawing him deeper into the embrace. He let him rest his head on his arm, feeling their heartbeats gradually synchronize.
Ai Miao seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he simply surrendered his utterly exhausted body to the comforting embrace and scent, relinquishing all weight.
Silence spread through the study, no longer cold but filled with the tender stillness after intimacy. The candle crackled, stretching their shadows as they clung together.
After a long while, just as Gu Lian thought he had fallen asleep, a low murmur, barely audible above the sound of breathing, came from within his embrace:
"...Next time, not in the study."
The voice carried heavy drowsiness, along with a nearly imperceptible hint of shyness and complaint that belonged uniquely to "Ai Miao."
Gu Lian paused, then his chest rumbled with a low, pleased chuckle. He tightened his arms, his jaw gently brushing against Ai Miao's soft hair as he readily agreed:
"Alright, as you wish." " he replied, then shifted his tone abruptly. His voice took on that familiar imperial coolness and sharpness Ai Miao knew well, though the content was entirely different: "However, since my minister still has thoughts on this matter... it seems I wasn't trying hard enough just now?"
This teasing yet threatening remark strangely dispelled the last trace of gloom in Aimiao's heart. The familiar Gu Lian had returned—not merely as a tender companion, but as the emperor who could match him in wits and engage in intellectual sparring. He needn't perpetually play the flawless subject before him; he could reveal his private, even unreasonable side.
Ai Miao kept his eyes closed, responding only with a soft, almost petulant murmur from within that reassuring embrace.
Gu Lian chuckled softly. He paused, as if making a solemn promise or stating an eternal truth, his voice gentle yet resolute:
"From now on, it will always be in our bedchamber."
Outside the window, the night deepened. Within the study, the lingering intimacy faded, leaving only steady breaths and the warmth of bodies pressed close. The chessboard of power paused for now. In this moment, he was simply the one in his embrace.
Just before drifting into sleep, Ai Miao thought vaguely: Perhaps revealing one's loss of control and fears to another doesn't signify weakness. It might be entrusting one's most fragile defenses to the other's protection. In this palace of scheming and intrigue, having someone who could make him willingly shed all defenses—someone he trusted to catch every fall—might be the truest, most precious warmth beyond the icy grasp of authority.
Gu Lian listened to the steady rhythm of his lover's breath, drawing him closer with contentment. He had finally chiseled through that hardened shell, touching the softest truth within. His strategist, his beloved, now belonged to him completely—body and soul.
Outside the window, the night deepened. Within the study, the chessboard of power lay dormant, replaced only by the warm, lingering breaths of two souls sleeping in embrace.