Chapter Thirty-Five You Were Waiting for Me

Night had fallen completely. After supper, she bathed and retreated to her study. Tonight, Ji Wuqing did not come; he was occupied with state affairs.

“Your Grace, perhaps you should rest early. You didn’t sleep well during the day either,” Taoxin suggested, following behind her mistress and watching her walk steadily.

“It’s nothing. You may retire; I need no further attendance,” she replied, her tone gentle and mild, neither joking nor severe.

“That won’t do,” Taoxin shook her head. Her mistress was always generous and never stood on ceremony with her attendants, but Taoxin knew her place and would not forget herself simply because her mistress was kind.

Xuexue said no more. Once in her study, she leisurely searched for a book.

That “reading” lasted for half an hour. Meanwhile, Ji Wuqing finished his day’s work. Only when he lifted his head did he notice how late it was; the lanterns in his study glowed softly.

“What time is it now?” he asked, rising to his feet in his blue everyday robe, the faint pattern of a dragon winding across his tall, slender frame.

“Sire, it is already the second watch of the Hai hour,” Miao Jian replied.

“Is that so?” He supposed Xue’er would be resting by now.

“Sire, a message from Anxue Palace: the queen has not yet retired and is still reading in her study.”

Anxue Palace.

The study was brightly lit. She seemed tireless, though beside her, Taoxin could not suppress a yawn. She forced herself to remain standing by Xuexue’s side, back ramrod straight.

“That’s enough, I shall retire now. You may go ahead,” Xuexue said, noticing Taoxin’s fatigue. She closed her book and stood up.

“Very well, let me help you back to your chambers…”

“No need, you may go,” she shook her head, her tone indifferent yet not unkind.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Taoxin nodded and withdrew at once.

Only then did Xuexue leave the study. Her jet-black hair hung smoothly over her shoulders, the long dark strands reaching past her waist, fluttering in the air. She wore a soft white nightgown, which made her appear mysterious and alluring beneath the night sky.

Walking down the corridor, the night was so quiet that she paused for a moment to take it in.

She wondered if Ji Wuqing had gone to bed yet; he had been so busy these past days…

She found herself thinking of him without quite realizing it.

Before long, she returned to her chambers. When she pushed open the door, the room was silent. The lights were out; darkness filled the space, but she was used to it.

However, she heard a faint noise and, not paying attention, bumped into a stool.

She stopped, blaming her scattered thoughts for her carelessness. But why was the stool here?

Puzzled and somewhat absent-minded, she nonetheless managed to reach her bed.

She knelt by the bed, slipped off her shoes, and climbed onto the mattress, only to sense that something was amiss. Was there an extra pair of shoes beneath the bed?

Was it her imagination?

She felt oddly off-kilter tonight, perhaps from lack of rest.

With that thought, she finally understood, lifted the brocade quilt, and lay down—only to find herself not on the bed, but nestled into someone’s arms!

At that moment, she heard a soft grunt, and Xuexue was truly startled. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but the person’s hand found her waist with unerring accuracy, and his breath tickled her ear. “You’ve woken your king; you must be punished.”

“My lord?” she exclaimed softly, surprise in her voice.

By rights, he should have been resting in his own palace quarters.

But the king held her firmly in his embrace, rather possessive, pressing her back tightly against his chest, his arms crossing over her and holding her close.

“Why so late? I waited so long I fell asleep…” His voice was languid and drowsy, tinged with a hint of playful reproach, like a child seeking comfort.

“You were waiting for me?” she asked, turning to face him, her heart filled with astonishment and an unfamiliar sensation, as if warm spring water trickled through her chest— a flutter of excitement.

“Yes, waiting for you. You seem surprised?” He opened his eyes innocently and, in the darkness, took in the surprise on her face, her brows knit in an expression both startled and pleased.

“When did you come? I had no idea.” Ah, she had been “reading” in the study at the time—he must have arrived then.

“I came over when I was tired,” he replied solemnly, though his hand gently gripped her waist, making it impossible for her to escape.

“You must be exhausted, my lord. You should rest,” she whispered, feeling awkward at their posture; it all seemed rather strange.

“Your king is robust and healthy. But you, my dear, are you unable to sleep without me at your side?” His thumb traced circles along her waist through her nightgown.

“There was nothing to do during the day, so I wasn’t tired. I just read for a while to pass the time,” she admitted, somewhat helpless against his little gestures.

“I see.” Ji Wuqing nodded and naturally pulled her closer.

Xuexue rested quietly in his arms, though inwardly she felt rather ill at ease. He often liked to hold her as they slept, but tonight was different. Usually, she slept with her back to him; tonight, she was nestled securely in his embrace, her ear pressed to the steady beat of his heart…

The heartbeat was so strong, it seemed to echo in time with her own.

“My lord, are you warm?” she asked, tilting her head as if to move away.

“Your king is not warm. Are you?” he teased.

“Not exactly warm—just a little stifled.” She felt almost breathless with him so close.

“Stifling is better than being hot,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his tone.

…

The atmosphere fell quiet. The bedchamber was silent, as if both had drifted into sleep.

Feeling the even rhythm of Ji Wuqing’s breath, she shifted, turning to lie flat. He seemed truly asleep; his hand no longer held her tightly but rested lightly on her waist.

How strange that even sleep felt different with him beside her.

She brushed away her bangs, which tickled her eyes, and as drowsiness pulled at her, she drifted off.

Dawn.

The first gentle rays of morning sunlight spilled through the distant window, washing the gray-white carpet in soft warmth.

On the not-so-distant bed, delicate gauze curtains spilled down. The two of them slept face-to-face.

At last, Xuexue stirred and slowly opened her eyes. She was dazed for a moment before fully waking. Their sleeping posture had changed; beneath her palm, something pulsed…

It was Ji Wuqing’s heartbeat—her hand, trapped between his chest and the quilt, could clearly feel it.

Most awkward of all, they were very close. His nose brushed her brow, his breath falling lightly against her face.

She stared for a moment, then tried to withdraw her hand. But as she moved, Ji Wuqing shifted as well, seizing her hand and trapping it against his chest—whether intentionally or not, she couldn’t tell.

Xuexue knew he was awake.

With that movement, his nose pressed squarely to her brow, and his warm lips brushed her nose—just a breath away from her own lips.

She blinked, her expression calm, but her empty eyes showed a hint of confusion.

“My lord, you’re awake, aren’t you?” Though she could not see, she could sense he was watching her with open eyes.

“There’s no court today; can’t your king linger in bed?” At last he drew back a little, still playing with her small hand.

It was their first time lying together in bed so late into the morning. He toyed with her fingers, his handsome face utterly relaxed. His long hair spilled across the pillow—not messy, but elegant.

His dark eyes gazed at her hand with a tender, lazy light.

…Was he playing with her hand just because he wanted to lie in bed?

When they finally rose, it was not early. The attendants in Anxue Palace were quietly delighted for their mistress; seeing their emperor and empress so affectionate, it seemed certain their lady would never fall from favor.

Breakfast was exquisite: several delicate pastries, a few light dishes, and a bowl of thick, mild porridge.

The emperor and empress arrived side by side, walking shoulder to shoulder like an ordinary couple, not ruler and subject.

“Since there’s nothing pressing today, why don’t we play a round of chess after breakfast?” Ji Wuqing asked as he took his seat at the table, looking at Xuexue, whose face was calm and pale. “What do you say, Xue’er?”

“My lord, have you forgotten? We are to visit the Queen Mother at Huizhai after breakfast,” Xuexue reminded him.

“Don’t be anxious, Xue’er. There’s always time to play three rounds with you,” Ji Wuqing replied with a smile, as if it were she who was impatient.

“I am in no hurry,” she countered smoothly.

“So you don’t want to play with your king at all?” Ji Wuqing pouted, feigning wounded pride.

“I only fear I would lose too badly.”

“Is that what you fear—that you’d lose too badly?”

“On the contrary,” she thought it was Ji Wuqing who would lose miserably.

At her words, Ji Wuqing raised an eyebrow, infinitely charming. “Your king quite likes your confidence.”