"No, please." He reached out and grabbed my wrist.
Before I could even consider whether to use a small grappling technique to resist, he grabbed me around the waist and leaped onto the swing. I couldn't help but let out an "Ah!" and gripped his clothes tightly.
He swung hard, and the swing flew up. At that moment, the new moon rose, drifting leisurely among the clouds, its brightness and dimness like the waxing and waning, the bittersweetness of life.
"Look, the moon is out. If we fly higher, we'll get closer."
The higher the swing went, the more nervous I became. He was definitely different from others; I'd never seen anyone swing after drinking before. I held on tightly, afraid he'd lose his balance and fall. But he wrapped his arm around my waist, his grip steady, clearly not drunk.
The wind rustled softly, and he whispered in my ear, "People all like things that are unattainable, like Chang'e in the moon, who stole the elixir of immortality, but little did she know that a lonely immortality is an endless torment."
"When I was a child, I heard that there was a kind of fish in the Ussuri River that tasted extremely delicious, and I always longed to try it. My mother doted on me and sent someone to transport it all the way to Guiyun Manor frozen. She also specially invited a disciple of the imperial chef to cook it. It did taste extremely delicious, but unexpectedly, I got diarrhea after eating it. It turned out that the fish was very oily and could not be eaten in large quantities."
"Many things are meant to be admired from afar but not touched. When you get close to them, they are not what you think they are."
The swing rose and fell, and he put his arm around my waist, saying these words. Having experienced so much today, I seemed more sensitive and perceptive, and I roughly understood the deeper meaning in his words. My admiration for Yunzhou is probably just like this.
As the swing gently sank to a stop, he whispered in my ear, "May we all live long and share the beauty of the moon, even though we are thousands of miles apart."
Then, I felt a warm, soft sensation on my earlobe—a light kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
He landed lightly on the ground, turned back and smiled at me: "I'm going to sleep now."
"Okay." I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, hoping he would fall asleep quickly so I could make my move.
He walked toward the bedroom, his steps slightly unsteady, indicating that he was indeed somewhat drunk.
I sat in the room for about half an hour, and guessing that Jiang Chen must be fast asleep by now, I quietly pushed open his door.
There was only a small floor lamp lit in the room, placed at the foot of the desk, which seemed to cast moonlight onto the floor, spreading a warm and soft light.
I walked over quietly. The small silver hook on the pearwood headboard half-rolled up the gauze curtain, and the green gauze curtain rippled like water. Jiang Chen lay on the bed. It was early summer, and his clothes were thin. His collar was slightly open, and his spring scenery was faintly visible.
I listened intently to his breathing; it was even and deep, indicating he was fast asleep.
I slowly reached out and gently lifted his collar. It was a dark and windy night, and there was no one around. Why did my actions seem a bit like those of a womanizer? Although he was asleep, I couldn't help feeling a little nervous and shy, and my fingers seemed to tremble slightly.
Suddenly, my waist tightened as I was wrapped in a pair of arms. Then, in a passionate embrace, I was flipped over and pinned beneath Jiang Chen.
Was he not asleep, or was I startled awake? I didn't have time to think about it and quickly nudged him. The moment my fingers touched his chest, my heart started pounding and my face flushed.
"Why are you taking off my clothes?" Perhaps it was because it was late at night, or perhaps he had been drinking, but his voice was very different from usual, low and hoarse with a hint of danger, making people inexplicably uneasy.
"I was worried that you might have a fever from drinking, so I wanted to take off your outer garment."
He said in a hoarse voice, "It is indeed hot, I'll take it off." He straightened up slightly, as if to undress.
I hurriedly grabbed his hand and said anxiously, "Wait, you can take it off after I leave."
He forced out a single word through gritted teeth with a smile: "Late."
I was sweating with anxiety and gripped his hand tightly: "Master said, 'Do not look at what is improper.'"
He chuckled and said, "So, you lifted my clothes first, and now you're holding my hand, doesn't that count as indecent assault?"
I really didn't mean to molest him. I was holding his hand tightly because I was afraid that if I let go, he would pull on the belt around his waist. If he pulled the belt, it would definitely reveal his private parts right in front of me... Just thinking about that erotic scene made me so ashamed that I wanted to bang my head against the wall. So I held his hand even tighter. Molestation is molestation. I should think positively. Molesting him is better than him molesting me.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Last time, I shared a bed with you, and I was kind and virtuous all night, but you suspected me of being gay. Tonight, tell me, should I clear my name?" His face, stained with wine, was exceptionally handsome, and when he smiled, it was like a garden full of spring flowers that couldn't be contained, a red apricot branch peeking over the wall.
I said in a panic, "No, don't."
He paused, then smiled faintly, "Well, I think I'll take it."
"No, I don't want to." I knew he was teasing me, but I still couldn't help feeling both embarrassed and anxious.
"Xiao Mo, when will you be able to be honest with me? Sigh, you can't even tell a straight lie. Knowing your personality, I'm afraid you won't be kind enough to take off my clothes before I die of heat."
I didn't dare look at him; my face was burning hot.
"You want to take back the gold lock, don't you? Do you know why I won't return it to you?"
"You, you're afraid I'll go to Jinbo Palace."
"no."
Why is that?
He gritted his teeth and said, "I'm angry that you wouldn't let me go with you!"
I was stunned and speechless.
“Your business is my business. I’m very unhappy that you’re being so distant with me.”
I lifted my eyelids and met his eyes. Afraid of becoming infatuated, I glanced at him quickly and looked away, pushing against his chest and saying, "I... I'm afraid of dragging you down with me."
His expression changed, as if he was angry. He took my hand, placed it on the pillow, and kissed it.
I was both ashamed and angry, and I struggled frantically, pushing and dodging. The more I struggled, the harder he pressed, sucking and rubbing his lips against mine with a domineering and fierce intensity, as if he wanted to merge with me or possess me. I could even feel his taut muscles. His breath mingled with mine, and soon I was breathless and my body went limp. His breathing became increasingly rapid, and the places where our skin touched were burning hot.
I was at my limit, while he was unstoppable. In this unequal situation, I was naturally thoroughly and completely assaulted. In my shame and anger, I remembered a saying of my master: never mess with a drunk man.
This time, I really remembered it.
He seemed determined to suck the last breath out of my lungs before letting go. In my dazed and confused state, I was like a drowning duck, desperately grasping at a straw for help. But there was only one straw in front of me: Jiang Chen. If I grabbed him, this blatant assault would instantly transform into a full-blown embrace, wouldn't that change the entire nature of the act?
As our lips parted, I forgot about revenge and didn't care about venting my anger. I took a few deep breaths to catch my breath. I finally understood the bliss of a drowning person surfacing for air. When I had calmed down a bit and was planning to settle the score later, I looked up and saw his lips, red and full, with a slight upturn at the corners, carrying a wicked smile of triumph, like an old cat that had just eaten a small fish.
In the past, the molestation was just a fleeting touch, a quick retreat. This time, however, it was a deep and unstoppable advance. This tactic of luring the enemy in deep and then striking back is utterly despicable! But, like my master, the angrier I get, the less I can speak. I just stare with my eyes wide open, seething with anger, probably looking like a sullen frog.