Chapter 36 (Revised) The Princess Must Have Toyed with Him…

In the past, she had only regarded Little Mute as a lifeless tool, using him in a simple and brutal manner. Zhao Rongzhang believed that as long as she wished, she could begin the detoxification anytime, anywhere. Embracing him was already an extra grace bestowed upon a tool—why bother being so gentle with a mere instrument?

If not for considering his fragile, easily broken heart, she wouldn’t even bother holding him.

Now, however, he felt more like her prey than a tool.

For the first time, she didn’t find the embrace superfluous. Calming the prey before consumption was necessary. The contact between their saliva brought a completely different sensation to her taste buds—more delicate, more direct to the brain, as if she were truly savoring his flesh and blood, his very essence. Both her body and mind found full pleasure in this exhilarating tasting.

As for her biting, the person in her arms gradually shifted from enduring it to welcoming it.

Lewd.

She was in no hurry to indulge in him, yet he willingly opened himself up, breathing rapidly and panting like a puppy. No longer hiding or concealing, he was like a puppy rolling over to expose its belly, drowning in its owner’s caresses. Being this lewd and offering himself up so readily—how could she not enjoy him properly? Zhao Rongzhang pushed aside the bothersome hemp rope, pressing her legs and hips against his waist. Only when she lifted her face again did she realize her own breathing was far from steady.

Zhao Rongzhang lowered her head, sucking on his lightly tensed neck. His breathing grew even more ragged, as if he were on the verge of death.

If he could speak, who knows what kind of lewd sounds he’d be whimpering.

This was his truest reaction.

How interesting.

Was he about to cry? Was he so overwhelmed by having his neck tasted that he was on the verge of tears? Zhao Rongzhang finally released his neck, admiring his expression. He looked like a mix of a kitten and a puppy. She savored the sight of him being forced to sway, his hair tousled from rubbing against the bed. Still unable to wake, he could only involuntarily reveal all his bodily instincts, putting on a lewd display for her.

She was well aware that the only way to make him willingly submit to her play was to show enthusiasm—in other words, to please him. But how could she possibly stoop to pleasing him? That would be outrageous. As for foreplay, at most, she’d give him an embrace, but that made it seem as if every hug was merely a prelude to bedding him. His claim that she didn’t like him likely referred to this.

Strange cat—it wasn’t as if he wasn’t enjoying it. Just as she was thinking this, his eyelashes trembled violently in her line of sight. Zhao Rongzhang felt inexplicably tense, her abdomen tightening. She was about to pull back, but the movement only made her shudder.

The scene had reached its peak of debauchery. Zhao Rongzhang refused to retreat, greedily waiting, yet her mind resisted—unwilling to let him wake and discover her nibbling and biting him all over.

Caught between desire and reluctance, before she could make a final decision, a commotion arose outside the door.

First, a man’s voice: “Here?”

The voice was close, likely right outside the door. Still immersed in the moment, Zhao Rongzhang snapped out of her daze within the gauzy curtain. Just then, like muddy water filling a cup to the brim, the warm, soft breaths of the person in her arms fluttered against her brows and eyes.

Alertness to danger pulled her completely out of her immersion. In the chaos, Zhao Rongzhang only heard the uneven breaths beside her ear, and an unusual sensation on her earlobe—a long eyelash brushing against it, making it itch. At such a moment, Little Mute had woken up.

Little Mute woke to find himself bound all over. As he tried to struggle free, Zhao Rongzhang pressed him down. His breathing steadied, warm and prolonged against her neck. He turned his face to look at her.

Zhao Rongzhang had no time to pay him any mind, her ears straining to listen outside. Someone responded with something, and several sets of footsteps retreated downward together. The Waiter’s nervous voice faded into the distance: “She just checked in yesterday. I remember seeing her travel permit—looked like she was from Tongzhou…”

Someone was investigating? Who?

Since they had come to investigate, why hadn’t they barged in immediately? What did that mean?

Zhao Rongzhang threw off the covers, wrapped herself in a random piece of clothing, and tiptoed to the door. It was the busiest time of day, with all sorts of voices clamoring inside and outside the building, making it difficult to pick up any useful information.

Since they hadn’t entered immediately, there was a ninety percent chance they meant no harm. Could it be her informant had found her?

Zhao Rongzhang moved to the window, cracked it open a sliver, and carefully observed the situation below. No suspicious figures emerged from the Inn.

After waiting a while longer, with no abnormalities around her, Zhao Rongzhang’s pounding heart gradually calmed. Once calm, she slowly made her way back, the soreness and weakness left by the intense events forcing her to lean against the wall for support. Halfway to the tea table, a pair of bright, watery eyes followed her. Remembering something, Zhao Rongzhang glanced toward the messy bed curtains.

Little Mute sat beneath the light-filtering, disheveled curtains, himself in a state of disarray. His black hair was tousled and draped over him, lending him an air of delicate obedience. His body… was too messy to even look at… Only his pair of dark, round, and luminous eyes remained fixed on her.

Little Mute’s expression was blank, but the redness at the corners of his eyes, the tip of his nose, and his cheeks betrayed the intense passion of not long ago.

Zhao Rongzhang’s throat moved as she swallowed.

Little Mute stared at her without blinking.

His hands were still bound, and without her permission, he hadn’t struggled free. Zhao Rongzhang guiltily averted her gaze, frowning as she answered the silent question in his eyes: “You were too restless in your sleep.”

He looked down at his body, covered in suspicious marks. Little Mute’s ears flushed red. The events of his dream didn’t seem entirely unfounded.

Zhao Rongzhang nervously took two steps forward: “It’s all your fault for being so restless! I just wanted a sip of tea, and you knocked it over! Water spilled all over the bed—how am I supposed to sleep tonight?!”

Little Mute frowned slightly. The Princess couldn’t have done such a thing to him—she didn’t like him that much. Besides, just two days ago, he had spent an entire night intensely relieving her heat toxin. The toxin couldn’t flare up again so quickly.

It must have been his own inherently wanton nature, leading him to have such a shameful dream. Little Mute lowered his head and blinked, looking at his disheveled, barely clothed self. Was he really this wanton?

How could he be so wanton?

But then, Little Mute noticed the dampness on his waist and abdomen and hesitantly touched it.

He lifted his gaze to the Princess. Her eyes darted away as she stood by the table, hands on her hips, grabbing a cup to drink tea. Little Mute’s gaze drifted downward, landing on the exposed section of her calf.

On the side of her pink knee, a thick trickle of sweat slowly slid down to her calf.

Little Mute was no fool—how could he not recognize the unusual color of that thick fluid? Not only that, his nose and ears were sharp, and he had long noticed the scent in the room. It wasn’t pleasant—his own overpowering musk had nearly drowned out the Princess’s scent.

Now, looking at the Princess’s flushed face and unnatural expression, how could he—not being a fool—fail to grasp the truth?

The Princess must have used him.

Given his own wanton state, it was no surprise that the Princess found him usable and acted on it. Finally being able to release was even better—exactly what she needed. After this, there would be no need to spend money on treatment anymore. The only puzzling thing was, why did the Princess try to hide it?

Guan Xuan looked into the Princess’s eyes once more. Moreover, she was hiding it as if he were an idiot. Could he not tell whether it was tea or not?

If she said it was, then so be it.

Zhao Rongzhang sipped her tea, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Good—judging by his clear gaze, he likely harbored no suspicions. After finishing her drink, she set the cup aside and got down to business: “Put your clothes on and find out who was outside the door just now, and what they wanted.”

Little Mute struggled free from the tangled ropes. Zhao Rongzhang stared, unable to tear her eyes away. Upon receiving the order, Little Mute focused entirely on the task, first wiping his body clean, then putting on his clothes. He bit down on his mask to secure his hair, glanced at her, and leaped out the window.

The entire process happened so quickly that Zhao Rongzhang’s thoughts barely had time to wander. She had just begun to notice how tender his skin was—several places had been rubbed raw by the ropes during their play—when she snapped back to reality and saw him tying up his hair, lifting his hands like a cat washing its ears. No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than he vanished without a sound. In the time it took for a line of white birds outside the window to fly from one side to the other, he was gone.

Zhao Rongzhang opened her mouth, then closed it irritably, turning to find her own clothes to drape over herself. As her hand brushed her knee, her knuckles grazed a streak of sticky white, and she suddenly recalled Little Mute’s downward glance earlier.

Her cheeks flushed hot. The heat lasted only a moment before she shook out her skirt in annoyance, tightening her core with a sharp breath.

Zhao Rongzhang opened the door and called for the waiter, instructing him to bring clean hot water. She slammed the door shut after giving the order. But the moment it closed, a familiar tall figure appeared on the door panel, casting a shadow that enveloped most of hers. Zhao Rongzhang’s mood soured further as she turned to look at Little Mute. “Back already? Who were they?”

She had no desire to look at him, but Little Mute was gesturing with his fingers. This wretched cat insisted on being mute—if she didn’t watch him, she wouldn’t know what he was saying.

As she watched him “speak,” Zhao Rongzhang noticed his hair was still disheveled, appearing fluffy against the backlight. How could anyone resemble an animal so much? He tried to do things only humans do—eating, dressing, combing his hair—yet he couldn’t even speak, only gesturing with his hands. He was nothing but a cat failing to imitate humans.

“People from the prefectural office? They know my identity and are looking for me? Not bad… but how do you know they aren’t bad people?”

Little Mute touched his lips, then his ears.

Tch. Asking was useless—what could he possibly explain clearly? What did he understand about good and bad?

These people were still waiting for her downstairs.

“Were they all in plain clothes?”

Otherwise, the sight of prefectural officials here would surely cause a commotion in the building. As soon as she asked, Little Mute nodded.

They were from the prefectural office but hadn’t come to her in an official capacity—that indeed didn’t seem like the actions of an enemy. Zhao Rongzhang was deeply wary of government officials these days, fearing they might be part of the Grand Empress Dowager’s extended influence in the region. If the Grand Empress Dowager wanted to find her, it would be easier for her than for anyone else.

Since the other party made no move, there was no need for her to rush into a reaction. It was better to let them wait a while and see if they would take the initiative to reveal their intentions.

The door was knocked on again, and this time it was the waiter’s voice. The hot water arrived much faster than before, clearly indicating that she was being given special attention. Zhao Rongzhang opened the door and found that, along with the waiter, there were several attendants carrying trays of food and meal boxes.

Zhao Rongzhang’s gaze passed through the crowd and fell downward, where she saw three or five men in plain clothes bowing respectfully to her.

After closing the door, Zhao Rongzhang picked up a piece of pastry to eat and instructed Little Mute to adjust the water temperature. Since they could recognize her identity, held no ill will toward her, and showed only respect, they could only be her informants. She felt almost unbelievably fortunate that she had actually encountered her own informants first.

Zhao Rongzhang relaxed. Once she relaxed, she felt her body was utterly exhausted. She stretched out her arms toward Little Mute, who, being quite perceptive, came over to help her untie her sash and assist her with bathing.

Little Mute learned quickly and was focused in his tasks, no longer as clumsy as before. As he leaned forward, the two of them drew very close. Zhao Rongzhang’s gaze fixed on his Adam’s apple, then trailed downward along the collar of his clothes. She swallowed the excess saliva in her mouth and suddenly felt a chill on her chest, so she looked down at herself.

They both had the same things, yet they were different.