Chapter 40 (Revised) Liking the Princess, Liking…

The Princess would occasionally stroke his face, with utmost gentleness and tenderness. Guan Xuan was still in a state of continuous dizziness, finding it difficult to focus his eyes, but when her palm drew near, his lips instinctively sought it out, yearning to be touched, to be pressed against.

His consciousness had not completely shattered. He could feel that he was moved, satisfied. All he had ever sought, all he had ever desired, was simply to be the thing the Princess liked most. He wanted to be something she liked, to be treated with her genuine affection. He could be a plaything, be anything at all, as long as she truly liked him.

Guan Xuan held the Princess, and was held by her in return. His head was cradled in her arms, his body enveloped by hers. He felt he was being very obedient now, but unfortunately, the Princess was only focused on sucking on his neck and chest, not once calling him “Baobao.” It had been a very, very long time since she had called him that. But in a certain moment, his heartbeat synchronized with the suction of her lips. The satisfaction of being genuinely liked was no less than being called “Baobao.” Guan Xuan broke into a sweat, holding her head as it lay against his chest, his waist and legs shifting and pressing tightly until everything surged and was completely spent.

Liking the Princess, liking the Princess. Guan Xuan held her in his arms, and he himself pressed against her embrace, clinging tightly.

…

The Princess grew tired, held him, and fell asleep. Guan Xuan also held her, and in the lingering afterglow, his breathing gradually steadied, ready to truly fall asleep with her. However, she did not truly fall asleep. Guan Xuan felt her hand begin to grope over his body, eventually sliding down to his knees. He blushed and his breathing grew heavier, but she only lifted the silk fabric slightly, barely pulling it up to cover him.

Guan Xuan opened his eyes.

The young girl’s cheeks were flushed crimson, her eyelids tightly shut, her head buried against his chest, and in an instant, she was deeply asleep.

Guan Xuan waited for a long time, almost an entire night. The Princess disliked heat, but she did not push his hand away halfway through her sleep. She slept very soundly, not showing signs of waking until the sky was bright with daylight.

Guan Xuan lay on his side facing her, watching her sleeping face without blinking. She was great, noble, and not to be defiled. And so beautiful, so adorable. Both her greatness and her adorableness were facts; he could not help but worship her, nor could he help but feel tenderly toward her. The only thing he could do was quietly gaze at her like this.

The Princess woke up. Guan Xuan watched as she sat up with her head lowered, stretched her neck and twisted her waist, glanced at him indifferently a couple of times, and then got out of bed. Guan Xuan watched as she splashed water to wash her face, drank tea, and changed clothes—everything as usual, as if nothing had happened. Noticing that he hadn’t left, the Princess even turned back and told him to quickly tidy up and leave her sight.

Without a word, Guan Xuan destroyed the soaked Undergarment Trousers, washed his body, changed into fresh clothes, and hid himself in the shadows.

Had she not realized he had woken up later, or had she realized but pretended not to know?

The Princess had made contact with her informants, and the tasks she needed to attend to each day had grown numerous again. Sleeping with him was merely a small diversion in her daily routine. Guan Xuan watched her busy from morning till night, still discussing with Shuang An late into the night about rescuing Ming Luo.

That old doctor was no easy character either. He seemed to have dismantled something in the room, strung a few strings with strands of his own hair, and spent all day humming and singing inside. The grating, discordant noise was unbearable, and no one was willing to guard him anymore.

The Princess deliberately wanted to make things difficult for him. Whatever he dismantled, she ordered people to restore it. Others didn’t understand why the Princess was so angry with this old doctor, but Guan Xuan vaguely guessed the hidden reason behind it.

When night fell, undressing, bathing, drinking medicine, and going to bed—everything proceeded as usual.

The effects of the medicine were diminishing with each dose. That night, Guan Xuan fell asleep with even greater difficulty than the previous night and woke up even earlier. Upon waking, aside from a damp chill below his waist and abdomen, his body seemed otherwise unchanged.

Guan Xuan’s heart felt heavy, and he was unexpectedly disheartened. He didn’t want to open his eyes, so after his eyelashes fluttered twice, he obediently kept them tightly shut.

But the moment he shut them, that familiar yet unfamiliar soft warmth landed heavily on the tip of his heart. Guan Xuan’s eyelashes trembled as his pectoral muscles were kneaded out of shape, bringing sensations that alternated between pain and gentleness, much like those moist, sucking kisses.

Guan Xuan gasped for breath, reverting to a puppy-like state. He loved being cherished by his master, loved being treated this way. Before reaching the peak, his eyes could still focus, and he struggled to see her expression clearly, truly catching a glimpse of her already dazed gaze.

Her gaze fell upon him, upon his chest. Everything from last night was real, and everything from the previous nights was real.

During the day, she treated him so coldly, unwilling to spare him an extra glance or say an extra word to him. She seemed to despise him so much, yet at night, she was so satisfied with his body, so fond of licking and tasting his flesh.

He didn’t know whether her actions had heated his tear ducts or if this discovery had stirred his heart. Perhaps the sensory stimulation stirred by his body had robbed him of his senses, but Guan Xuan was reduced to streaming tears. The Princess would glance at him from time to time, her gaze carrying an appreciative tone. But each time they were about to meet eyes, Guan Xuan kept his eyes tightly shut.

From start to finish, the Princess never realized he was awake.

A carrier pigeon brought a message: someone had discovered the location of Ming Luo and the others. Carrier pigeon messages were not highly secure, and the amount of information they could convey was limited. Even the identity of the sender was hidden within the details between the lines. Zhao Rongzhang scrutinized it for a long while but could only decipher half of it. Shuang An smiled as she unraveled the complex coded message: “Each informant’s encryption method is different. The Princess is very clever, but these tactics are designed to outsmart clever people. The fact that you couldn’t decipher it fully only proves our message is secure.”

Shuang An then relayed the complete message to her: “In the southeastern direction, no specific prefecture or county was mentioned. The other party left it to us to decide: should we transfer the message to the southeastern network and let them handle it, or should we continue communicating among ourselves and wait for clearer information before going ourselves?”

“Southeastern?” Zhao Rongzhang frowned.

The Grand Empress Dowager knew she would definitely go to rescue Ming Luo. Sending Ming Luo to the east was meant to draw her completely out of Prince Su’s jurisdiction. Zhao Rongzhang naturally couldn’t let her have her way.

“Break down this letter in detail once more. It’s not easy to send messages, so it’s unlikely they’d take such a risk just to convey a direction. Just decipher it, compile the information for me, and I’ll determine their location.”

Shuang An nodded, her expression growing even more solemn as she focused intently on deciphering the slip of paper less than an inch long.

A voice called from outside: “Old Doctor Wu has torn off another window panel and is climbing straight out! We can’t hold him back much longer!”

Interrupted in her thoughts, Shuang An was about to issue an order when the Princess patted her shoulder and stood up. “I’ll go see.”

Only two days confined, and the old man had already stirred up a basketful of trouble. Zhao Rongzhang made her way over and indeed saw a ginseng-like face, white-bearded and white-haired, peering out from the dilapidated window frame. The Old Ginseng Spirit’s bones were terribly brittle. A row of exceptionally skilled servants stood nearby, arms outstretched, afraid to do more than guard the spot, terrified he might actually fall and shatter.

Zhao Rongzhang was thoroughly displeased. Standing two zhang away, she sneered, “Is this all you’re capable of? Given how mysteriously you’re talked about outside, I thought you could walk through walls or vanish into the earth.”

The Old Ginseng Spirit squinted and smiled. “If only I had such divine skills, it would make it much easier for this old one to walk among men and practice medicine to aid the world. My lady, the young master’s medicine should be finished by now, shouldn’t it? That child’s illness is not light; he needs a timely follow-up. Allow this old one to take his pulse.”

Zhao Rongzhang grew even more displeased. She sat down on the corridor bench, sipped her tea delicately, and said leisurely, “He was originally a perfectly healthy person, with no illness except for difficulties in the bedchamber. If he has any illness now, it’s from taking your quack remedies.”

The old doctor sighed. The young lady was too willful, too unreasonable. Her actions were erratic, governed entirely by her whims—a sign that the heat syndrome within her had already reached a severe degree.

“Is your insistence on leaving merely to uphold your own rules? Such pointless rules—why cling to them stubbornly for the sake of face? The courtyard Shuang An arranged for you isn’t bad. Three meals a day, fixed portions, vegetables and meat broth—haven’t they all suited your taste? What’s wrong with staying here?”

At most, she’d only confine him for three to five days. Zhao Rongzhang couldn’t understand at all why he was so determined to leave. If she had such brittle bones, she would never go around causing trouble.

“My lady, this old one is a doctor. A doctor must treat illnesses and save people. For each day I hold clinic, I can see at least thirty patients. This old one is not as mobile as in my youth and can no longer travel about. Some poor families, to get a single prescription, must endure a two-day-and-night journey by ox-cart while ill, just to speak with me for a quarter or half an hour. Everyone knows my rules, knows my fixed clinic hours. How many people do you think have slept in front of the medical clinic these past two nights, waiting from midnight till dawn? A single sleeping spot in a common bunk costs at least ten wen—enough to buy a dose of cheap medicine.”

Zhao Rongzhang snorted. “You’re just putting on an act. If you truly cared so much about patients, why would you set a rule to hide away every few days? On those days you hide, how many patients do you think die in the night waiting for your clinic to open?”

The old man laughed heartily. “This old one’s life is also a life. I plan to live to one hundred and twenty. If I don’t live long, how can I talk of saving others? Holding clinic for too long wears out these old bones of mine.”

Zhao Rongzhang took a sip of tea. The tea had little aftertaste; the astringency lingered in her mouth. This tea wasn’t good. She set down the teacup. “Then isn’t it good that I’m letting you rest a few more days? All this long-winded rambling is just to scold me for being unreasonable and lacking human feeling. I won’t believe this act of yours.”

The old man stopped arguing with her, sighed, and continued climbing through the window.

Zhao Rongzhang had someone bring fresh tea to brew, requesting a sweeter flavor. The maid tentatively suggested a few varieties, but she shook her head to each. As for what exactly she wanted to drink, even she wasn’t sure. This made things difficult. The maid stood there hesitantly for a moment before finally going to take care of it.

“Ah, ouch—” The Ginseng Spirit’s back made a cracking sound.

Zhao Rongzhang stood up irritably, tilting her chin to signal someone to open the door.

“Don’t die here. If you’re going to die, go die alongside those pitiful, pitiful people outside your medical clinic!” Zhao Rongzhang instructed the attendant beside her, “Prepare the carriage. I’ll personally escort him back. I want to see just how many pitiful people are waiting for him!”

The Princess was true to her word.

Upon arriving at the location, she stepped out of the carriage first and looked into the distance. There were indeed people waiting in line, though not as many as expected. A pot had been set up in front of the clinic’s entrance, from which the refreshing fragrance of mung beans wafted continuously. People were lining up with bowls in hand to receive their share.

Zhao Rongzhang shot a sharp glare at the smelly old man who had just crawled out of the carriage behind hers.