Chapter 28: The rhythm was completely under his control.
The Princess found it rather intriguing. Little Mute, having practiced the Hidden Gate Technique like the Flying Needle for years, had thin calluses on his palms and between his fingers. The Scented Soap lathered into a slippery, slightly foamy lather that mixed with these calluses, rubbing off with a sensation that was both smooth and slightly rough. He was meticulous in his work, his gaze fixed on the area he was washing, as careful and focused as his movements.
Zhao Rongzhang recalled the first time she watched the cat bathe, which had left her feeling rather melancholic. Now, she couldn’t understand why she found this rather enjoyable. After lathering the Scented Soap, the cat cupped his hands and splashed water, rubbing to wash away the slippery Bath Foam. It wasn’t easy to rinse off, often requiring three to five splashes. Though the cat’s touch was gentle, his movements lacked the caution he had shown earlier when undressing her, as if he were merely washing an object, strictly following instructions. Moving upward, his hand half-encircled her neck, his thumb lifting to tilt her chin, even splashing water to clean her neck along the way. This clumsy cat, for all his faults, was truly adept at being a Servant Slave, executing every task with unwavering focus and precision.
Zhao Rongzhang arched her back in enjoyment, but once the Bath Foam was washed away, his hand moved on, continuing downward to wash her stomach. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t make a sound, silently pressing her knees together and rubbing them. After a few rubs, her armpit was once again half-gripped, the plump edges pinched by his long fingers. The cat lifted her slightly, half-embracing her, while his left hand moved down to wash. Zhao Rongzhang shuddered as something a hundred times rougher than a tongue rubbed back and forth, leaving no fold or crevice untouched. The sensation was peculiar, and she liked it very much. Resting her face softly against his arm, her anticipation grew.
This should have been easy to wash, but it only grew slicker. Guan Xuan delayed until the Princess let out a low moan before belatedly giving up. He laid her down again and slightly turned her waist. The Princess hadn’t expected this to be washed too. Half-leaning against the tub’s edge, she looked back to see her plump thighs being pressed upward, every fold meticulously traced by his fingerprints.
Finally, it was done—truly done. The Princess gasped for breath, submerged in the warm water until her skin flushed a shade of pink. She reached out to the mute, wanting him to lift her out and dry her off so they could get on with the main event. Unexpectedly, the mute took her arm and placed it back into the tub. Then, he scooped clean water into the Copper Basin, soaked a fresh cloth, wrung it dry, and pressed it to her face. It was already hot—the weather, the water, her body—and now he was wiping her face with hot water. Zhao Rongzhang grew impatient, wanting to swat his hand away, but this mute was too skilled at serving. The warm, steamy cloth was pressed against her features and cheeks by his slender fingers, rubbing so lightly it felt ticklish, as if even her breath was being washed.
Zhao Rongzhang felt comfortable, and the more comfortable she felt, the more she wanted. She dug her fingers into his arm and hummed twice to urge him on. He quickened his movements slightly, his fingers gliding gently over her eyelids through the cloth, all the way to the corners of her eyes. Zhao Rongzhang wondered what this cat was thinking—was he really in no hurry? As soon as the cloth slid away from her lashes, she opened her eyes, only to meet the cat’s slightly furrowed brow and a pair of dark, ink-like eyes. In his eyes, a soft, sorrowful light shimmered gently.
What was he feeling sorrowful about? Being with a mute was just exhausting. Zhao Rongzhan grumbled inwardly, then felt his eyelids being covered and wiped again. Alright, her face was washed, surely that was enough now. Zhao Rongzhan actively wrapped her arms around his body, and his arms lowered as well. She thought he was going to lift her out of the water, but instead, those clumsy hands simply rested on the back of her neck before grasping her long hair. He was going to wash her hair.
Zhao Rongzhan said irritably, “No more washing!”
Guan Xuan, holding the full handful of dark hair, suddenly snapped back to reality. He glanced at the hot water and gestured with his fingers: “It’s getting cold.”
If it cooled, the money would be wasted—time was money.
“Why aren’t you just stupid to death!” Zhao Rongzhan cursed him under her breath. “Can’t you figure out which is more expensive, fifteen coins or three hundred coins? At most, we can stay until noon tomorrow, then we have to leave.”
The Princess longed for the antidote. Guan Xuan pursed his lips, lifted her upper body into his embrace, and hooked her knees out of the water. The Princess, dripping wet, clung to his neck and chest, soaking most of his clothes. They felt warm, though it was unclear whether it was her body heat or the water’s warmth. Guan Xuan pulled down the longest towel from the rack and, while walking toward the bed, first wrapped her hair ends to wring out the water, then wiped the droplets from her back, buttocks, and legs before setting her down to sit on the edge of the bed.
The Princess was tired and drowsy. She hugged the quilt and softly collapsed onto the bed.
In the past, Zhao Rongzhan had always enjoyed Little Mute on the floor, never allowing him to touch her bedding or bed. Even in the marriage alliance carriage, this iron rule remained unbroken. In her eyes, no matter how clean Little Mute was, he was still dirtier than her bed. How could she let him onto it, especially considering his status? But now, it was no longer possible. She couldn’t afford to care about such things anymore. Every spot here was so filthy—she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it on the floor. The towels cost money and were of poor quality, thin as paper. It didn’t matter if they were used as padding for Little Mute, but she didn’t want to exert herself. Kneeling down would surely grind her knees to the point of agony.
Zhao Rongzhan swayed her hips. “Come on.”
After waiting a while with no movement, Zhao Rongzhan twisted her head to look back. The poor-quality candlelight cast half a shadow on the cat’s slender body. His eyelashes were lowered, his gaze fixed below her waist, while his hands undid his Kesi Belt. His face showed no expression.
No expression even now? Could it be that he really didn’t want to? Zhao Rongzhan was displeased. He didn’t want to? What right did he have to not want to? Damn mute.
The Kesi Belt fell to the floor, and a cold palm descended. Her waist hollow tingled. Zhao Rongzhan set aside her displeasure for the moment and waited for him to proceed. Once the task was clear, the cat carried it out without the slightest hesitation. One hand gripped her waist while the other lifted and parted her. The calluses rubbed against her bones, sending shivers of pleasure through her. Zhao Rongzhan felt both anticipation and a rare sense of nervousness, gripping the bedpost to steady herself.
The wooden pillar pressed into the tiger’s mouth, stretching the flesh of her palm until it ached unbearably. Zhao Rongzhang tensed her wrist, feeling how utterly different this was from all the times she had been in control. Back then, she only needed to consider herself—whether to go lightly or heavily, it was always a gradual progression. It was like reading an interesting yet obscure book; only she knew how much she understood. Whether to read a little less or a little more, faster or slower, she could adjust at any time, always able to understand and finish. Now, the book was forcing her to read it. Negotiation was possible, but the book was mute. The book was shoving its pages into her mind. Whether she could understand it easily and pleasantly had become secondary; what mattered most was whether she understood it thoroughly.
Zhao Rongzhang’s hand was slick with sweat. The long, drawn-out filling had left her abdomen weak and aching. How had she never felt him this full before? At last, it was done. Zhao Rongzhang’s wrist went limp, and she gasped for breath, still gripping the wooden pillar. The area around her waist and half her abdomen were being gently stroked by thin calluses—he seemed to be waiting. Zhao Rongzhang’s voice came muffled from the quilt: “No need to wait. I’m fine.”
Little Mute still didn’t act rashly. His hand, which had been holding her, slid down to her navel, checking whether she really was fine. Was he actually doubting her? The Princess spat out two words that had almost become a mantra: Hurry up!
Guan Xuan’s eyelids lifted slightly. He had touched this place countless times, tasted it over and over, but this was the first time he had seen it from this angle. From this perspective, the Princess gave him a vastly different feeling than before. He liked fucking her, fucking her like this. But this wasn’t what he liked most. What he loved most was being watched by the Princess, being held by her. Without her gaze or embrace, he would rather be pressed down and used by her.
Little Mute obediently carried out the command. Zhao Rongzhang was jolted so hard her eyes rolled back. The wooden pillar shook along with the gauze curtains, and the Princess collapsed, drenched.
…
The rhythm was entirely under his control, but this book understood her far better than she had imagined. Discomfort was minimal; he knew exactly where her points of pleasure and irritation lay. Communicating wasn’t as difficult as she had thought either. When tears were about to spill, he had already stopped, ready to end it there. But Zhao Rongzhang shook her head and said it felt too good—if she was going to cry, then let her cry. After that, he held nothing back. His understanding of her was precise, perfectly measured.
Several times, she nearly slid to the edge of the bed, but Little Mute pressed her firmly back at her request. Zhao Rongzhang could clearly hear how he was fucking her—so loudly she wondered if others might hear. But worrying about that was pointless now. She was crying and screaming herself, and even when the mute offered his hand for her to bite, drawing blood, it couldn’t muffle her. Zhao Rongzhang stopped caring. Why bother about the ears of unrelated people? So she cried as she pleased.
There was only one thing that made her extremely, utterly, and profoundly dissatisfied. Zhao Rongzhang indulged in the pleasure, letting herself go completely, thinking that Little Mute was thrusting so fast and hard, surely because her current state was enticing enough—his expression and reactions must be a sight to behold. She loved seeing his unrestrained side; the wilder he was, the more she liked it. □□ In her dazed state, the Princess hummed softly and turned her head to look back. The candle had burned down to its end, casting an uneven light, yet it illuminated him quite clearly. As soon as she turned, she met his dark, round eyes, which had been fixed on her all along. But those eyes were calm, unmoving, with only the flickering candlelight dancing within them.
It wasn’t just his eyes that were calm. He stood beside the bed, his clothes still fully intact, only the fabric around his waist and hips loosened. The hem of his robe brushed against her, revealing the cold, pale Fish Tail Mark that flickered in and out of view.
Though she wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, the noisy inn had been quiet for a long while. Half of the bedding and blankets beneath her were soaked through, the candles were about to burn out, and she no longer had the strength to cry. At the very least, nearly two hours must have passed. Just as she was calculating, two candles truly burned out.
All this time, he hadn’t given it to her even once! What was wrong with this damn mute now!
Zhao Rongzhang couldn’t twist her waist, so she turned her shoulders instead. He didn’t stop, but the look in his eyes shifted slightly. Her vision blurred with the motion, and her voice came out in broken fragments: “Are you… are you sick?”
Something must be wrong with him physically, if he couldn’t even finish.
Guan Xuan held one of her knees, slowing down, and shook his head gently in denial.
“You don’t want to do me?”
Guan Xuan pressed the hollow of her knee outward with the base of his thumb, making her frown and her abdomen twitch. If he didn’t want to, how could he have served her until now? The Princess was too lost in pleasure to think straight.
Whether he gave it or not was up to him—the force was too much. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t want to struggle to stay awake anymore. She’d deal with it tomorrow. Tomorrow, when she had the energy to be angry, she’d settle this score with him properly.