Chapter 289: Stamped with the Emperor’s Golden Seal, You Can Take It
Wei Ting watched Wei Chi Lianping’s retreating back with a complicated expression.
He looked down, his brows furrowed. Bluish-purple fingerprints were gradually appearing on the back of his hand.
It seemed the rumors about Wei Chi Lianping being able to lift a ritual cauldron with one hand even before he came of age were true.
His adjutant, Feng Xiang, was pacing back and forth at the entrance of the military tent, worried the two generals would come to blows. Instead, he saw Wei Chi Lianping walk out with an ecstatic look on his face.
Feng Xiang stepped forward. "General."
Wei Chi Lianping had intended to act more composed, but the moment he opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from breaking into a wide, toothy grin.
"Oh? You already know? Word sure travels fast!"
Feng Xiang was speechless.
Ever since his general had learned of the assassination attempt on Emperor Wu Su, he hadn’t cracked a single smile, instead spending his days scowling and cursing people out. Feng Xiang truly couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so cheerful.
"The Eldest Princess is with child! I’m going to be a father!"
As he spoke, Wei Chi Lianping excitedly slapped him on the back.
Feng Xiang hadn’t even had time to process this good news before the blow sent him sprawling to the ground.
"I’m the one becoming a father, what are you so excited for? You can’t even stand straight. So reckless."
Wei Chi Lianping helped the man up, scolded him a few more times, then swaggered off.
*
「Lin’an.」
Faint sounds stirred within Zhaoyang Hall.
Ji Qingwu emerged from the bath in the side hall, having changed into a set of clean, plain white inner robes. Her complexion was as fresh and dewy as a peach.
Her eyes were like a sunlit lake, shimmering with hues of rich gold and pale jade.
Ji Qingwu first glanced toward the Dragon Bed, but saw no sign of Emperor Wu Su.
’Did he pass out already?’
Ji Qingwu’s gaze swept quickly across the hall and found the man’s figure seated on a soft couch by the window.
His head was lowered as he wrote something on a small, square table, his brush moving with the swiftness of the wind. His profile was exceptionally handsome, his expression solemn, as if he hadn’t noticed her arrival.
Ji Qingwu tiptoed closer, intending to hide behind him and sneak a peek at what he was writing.
She had just peeked over his shoulder, her curious eyes taking in the scene.
Zhao Mingyan quickly tossed aside the Xuan City Purple Hair brush in his hand and pulled the woman trying to peek from behind him into his lap.
Ji Qingwu landed on his lap. Unaccustomed to the position, she tried to shift to the side, but he cinched his arm around her waist and pulled her back, pressing the small of her back firmly against his body.
The Emperor tilted his head and rested it in the crook of her neck. His tone was light, as if he had just concluded some important business.
"If you want to look, then look openly. It was prepared for you, anyway."
’Prepared for me?’
Ji Qingwu’s gaze fell upon the paper on the table. After reading just two lines, she immediately turned her head away.
"This is..."
Zhao Mingyan’s eyes scanned her face, not missing a single trace of her reaction to seeing the document.
"You and Wei Ting no longer have any relationship."
Emperor Wu Su had personally written her a bill of divorcement.
Ji Qingwu had considered waiting for Wei Ting to return from the Northern Border, or for the border conflict to subside, to part with him on good terms.
But the Emperor had acted faster. While she was bathing, he had already prepared this letter of separation. Each word was cold and unyielding, forming merciless sentences. It was less a mutual separation and more a unilateral divorcement of her husband.
Beside the paper was a box of Zhangzhou Eight Treasures Seal Paste, and the document had already been stamped with the Emperor’s Golden Seal.
Divorcing one’s husband by imperial decree—such a thing was unheard of.
Ji Qingwu felt the Emperor was just being ridiculous. She wanted to handle this privately, but he seemed to want to announce it to the whole world.
Zhao Mingyan took her hand and moved it toward the vividly red seal paste.
"Ah Wu, you press your fingerprint here too. Once this is stamped, it won’t fade for a hundred years."
Ji Qingwu pulled her hand back, hesitating. "Then will my finger also not fade for a hundred years?"
Zhao Mingyan enveloped her fingers with his palm, gave them a little squeeze, and mused, "That, I do not know."
Ji Qingwu blinked her bright eyes and suggested, "Then why don’t we find someone to test it on first, and I’ll press my finger after that?"
Zhao Mingyan saw through her little trick but didn’t call her out on it, because for the moment, he had other things on his mind.
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Ji Qingwu twisted around in his arms, proactively wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her soft, supple body against him.
Through their thin nightclothes, every soft and smooth curve was evident at the slightest touch.
Emperor Wu Su’s sharp intake of breath was obvious. His muscles tensed, his entire body growing hard.
’Might as well bite the bullet,’ Ji Qingwu thought. ’It’s better to get this over with sooner rather than later.’
She had already redeemed the so-called "most comprehensive Bedroom Technique in history" from her system. She couldn’t afford to go into this "battle" unprepared like the first time.
Besides, the system said that intimate contact could increase the nation’s fortune. She was curious to see what kind of luck it would increase this time and whether it would benefit the war at the border.
With an exploratory mindset, Ji Qingwu surveyed the "battlefield." The soft couch, only large enough for one person, was clearly unsuitable.
She pointed to the bright yellow Dragon Bed not far away.
"Your Majesty."
Those two words, spoken from her soft, moist lips, carried a natural coquettishness that was both alluring and pitiable.
How could Emperor Wu Su possibly refuse? He carried her to the large bed in the innermost part of the chamber.
The Dragon Bed was made of small-leaf red sandalwood with intricate openwork carvings and a three-sided, screen-like enclosure.
She knelt on the mattress and found it wasn’t as soft as she had imagined, but it was extremely spacious. Four or five people could sleep on it without a problem.
Zhao Mingyan stood before the bed, gazing at the woman before him—a vision of delicate, creamy softness, ripe and tantalizing.
Ji Qingwu shuffled forward on her knees to the edge of the bed and reached out to untie his robes, but he caught her by the wrist.
Zhao Mingyan’s eyes were dark and intense. He had already sensed something was off; her proactiveness made her seem like a completely different person.
He lunged forward, pinning her down. Ji Qingwu let out a soft cry.
’This was completely different from what she had imagined!’ she thought. ’What happened to the tender embraces, the teasing, and the seduction we were supposed to have?’
While Ji Qingwu was still dazed, she was stripped bare. Her delicate body, like a tender young bamboo shoot, would show a mark wherever it was gripped.
She caught a glimpse of what he was about to do out of the corner of her eye and tried to stop him, her voice trembling. "No..."
In Zhao Mingyan’s eyes, all he could see were her full, rosy lips opening and closing, tempting him to capture them.
He could no longer hear what she was saying.
Ji Qingwu had learned her lesson the hard way. She drew her legs up to scramble away, but the Emperor, having lost his senses to the drug’s effects, seized her by the calf and viciously dragged her back down.
Tears instantly welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face.
After that, they flowed like water from a broken dam, surging out endlessly.
Ji Qingwu couldn’t control her body’s primal reaction at all.
Zhao Mingyan coaxed her in a hoarse voice, "Relax. You can take it."
But contrary to his gentle words, his actions were as ruthless as an executioner’s strike.
Standing guard at the door, Li Yuzong could clearly hear most of the commotion within the hall. When he heard the woman’s gasps becoming faint, as if she were taking in more air than she was letting out, he quickly instructed a little eunuch to prepare more of the medicinal salve according to the recipe Le Xi had provided.
The sounds from the hall came to an abrupt stop.
Li Yuzong raised a hand. "Go and prepare it now."
Then, he leaned closer to the crack in the door to listen carefully, in case the Holy Emperor called for an attendant.
Suddenly, a cry rang out again, its pitch abruptly rising.
About the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn passed.
Ji Qingwu bit her lip and endured until the first round was over. The corners of her eyes were flushed red, and a single teardrop clung to her lashes, making for a pitiful sight.