Chapter 13

Although she had mentally prepared herself, Pei Yun was still somewhat surprised to hear those words so suddenly, especially since this time their consummation was set several days earlier than in her previous life. She did not understand why the Crown Prince had chosen to bring this up on New Year’s Eve of all days, but having never been able to fathom his thoughts, she simply bowed politely and responded with a faint, “Yes.”

Since the Crown Prince intended to spend the night in Linlang Palace, preparations were necessary. When Pei Yun returned to the Eastern Palace, the palace servants inside were already bustling about. Shuyanshu Mo attended to her bathing and grooming, helping her change into a nightgown. Pei Yun then leaned against a small couch in the inner chamber, resting on a bolster pillow, idly flipping through a book.

After about half an hour, a summons sounded outside, and she leisurely rose to bow. Li Changye entered the chamber but did not sit down; instead, he exchanged a few words with her before heading directly to the bathhouse. Shuyanshu Mo, who always served closely, efficiently extinguished most of the candles in the hall, leaving only two lit in the outer chamber and a small lamp by the bedside in the inner chamber. On a round stool by the bed, they placed a small bell to be used later for summoning water.

Suddenly, the entire Linlang Palace dimmed, and Pei Yun slowly moved from the small couch to sit at the edge of the bed. She remained calm—after all, this was not her wedding night—but being back in such a setting after so long, she couldn’t help but nervously wrinkle the skirt beneath her hands. After all, in her previous life, nearly a year and a half had passed since their last intimacy before she had fallen into the water.

Moreover, no matter the lifetime, even after seven years of marriage, their physical encounters had been few and far between. And nearly every time, the experience left Pei Yun feeling less than pleased. Lost in thought, she suddenly heard a voice say, “Everyone, leave,” followed by the sound of footsteps and the closing of a partition door.

In the yellow candlelight, Pei Yun looked up and saw, through the layered curtains, the tall and imposing figure of the man. As he stepped into the inner chamber and swept aside the gauze curtain with his broad hand, her heart skipped a beat.

Gone were the elaborate robes; before her stood the Crown Prince dressed simply in a thin, plain nightgown, revealing his strong, upright, and powerful physique. Though the Crown Prince appeared refined, he was no stranger to martial arts. Regardless of bitter cold or intense heat, he practiced swordsmanship every morning and regularly rode horses and practiced archery on days off in the suburbs of the capital. This training not only forged a physique superior to that of ordinary men but also endowed him with exceptional stamina—though, for Pei Yun, that stamina was the most tormenting aspect.

As the Crown Prince reached the bedside, Pei Yun was about to rise when he quietly said, “Make yourself comfortable.” Understanding his meaning, she obediently settled deeper into the bed. Li Changye did not immediately lie down but instead looked toward the small lamp burning on the bedside. As he drew closer, a soft voice spoke by his ear: “Your Highness,” it said. He turned to see his Crown Princess carefully asking in a gentle, melodious tone, “Would Your Highness keep the lamp lit? Chen’er has been sleeping with me recently, and for convenience at night, the lamp is always on. I have grown accustomed to it…”

Pei Yun wondered if this excuse would persuade the Crown Prince. Since their first consummation, except on their wedding night, the lamp had always been extinguished. She felt uneasy, yet the man only gave her a deep look before calmly replying, “Very well,” and then lay down beside her.

As he lifted the quilt, a cold draft slipped in, causing Pei Yun to shrink slightly. Once he lay by her side, she followed suit and lay down. After a rustling of blankets, silence fell over the chamber.

As usual, neither spoke. Pei Yun stared at the embroidered begonia flowers on the canopy overhead, her heart uneasy, unsure of the Crown Prince’s intentions tonight. Just as she slightly turned her eyes to observe him, the bed creaked softly, and a shadow suddenly enveloped her.

Her breath hitched.

The man’s aggressive presence washed over her, carrying the faint moisture left from his bath. Candlelight flickered across his handsome features, half-shrouded in shadow. His eyes, dark and bottomless like a deep valley, appraised her.

Li Changye rarely lit a lamp to observe his wife under such circumstances. On their wedding night, perhaps out of shyness, she had timidly asked him to extinguish the light. Knowing a young woman’s sensitivity, he had complied without waiting for her to ask again.

But tonight, she had requested the light remain on.

The honey-colored candlelight filtered softly through the gauze curtains. She lay on the bed, her long black hair spread over the pillow, her skin pale as snow. Her moist apricot eyes trembled slightly with surprise at his sudden movements. Her full chest rose and fell heavily, and in an effort to conceal her emotions, she bit her lips gently, reddening them as if stained with rouge.

Li Changye’s eyes narrowed slightly, and a sudden, unspoken thirst rose in his throat.

Beneath the covers, their skin touched, body heat mingling. His half body pressed down on her like a mountain, making it impossible for her not to feel him.

Startled by the change, she was shocked—whether from the long interval or something else, tonight the Crown Prince’s ardor was faster than ever before.

Feeling his calloused, burning palm press firmly against her waist, Pei Yun turned her gaze away. Although she had insisted on keeping the lamp lit, she felt uncomfortable looking directly at him. Thinking of what was to come, her body stiffened, and her delicate hands clenched the blanket tightly.

Near midnight, the wind and snow outside howled fiercely, battering the window panes with a pounding noise. The tumult outside masked a sudden sharp cry of pain from within the chamber.

The moon and stars seemed to pause with it. Li Changye’s breathing faltered as he looked down to see Pei Yun’s brows knit tightly, her face contorted in pain, tears glistening at the corners of her reddened eyes, threatening to fall.

He frowned. Except for their wedding night, this was the first time he had seen her so clearly in such distress.

He knew she must be uncomfortable, but he did not expect her to suffer so. Yet in the past, she had never uttered a sound during their intimacy.

Could it be that after such a long interval, her body was no longer accustomed?

Li Changye pondered this, deliberately pausing before slowly continuing.

Wrapped again in that familiar yet unbearable dull ache, Pei Yun’s eyes widened slightly—she did not expect the Crown Prince to persist.

Tonight, she had purposely kept the light on to recall the last time in her previous life when, after their final union, she lost the child and was overcome with frustration and despair. She had shown pain and reluctance then, and the Crown Prince had never touched her again.

She had thought imitating that would succeed this time.

After all, before she had asked to extinguish the lamp to hide the pain from him, which had ruined his mood.

Now, she feared he would not see it.

Yet, unexpectedly, it did not work.

Had she not made her feelings clear enough?

Clutching the blanket beneath her, Pei Yun found the Crown Prince’s relentless thrusts tormenting. She even wanted to kick him off, her heart full of resentment, and she could not help but pout irritably.

But in the next moment, his movements abruptly ceased.

Confused, she looked up and was startled by the icy coldness in Li Changye’s eyes. His thin lips were tightly pressed, his gaze penetrating to the bone.

After a few silent moments, he grabbed the robe hanging by the bedside, draped it over himself, and withdrew.

Pei Yun was not blind; she saw the Crown Prince’s displeasure clearly.

It was likely her impatience that had betrayed her.

Anyone else might have lost composure, but Pei Yun remained calm, slowly sitting up wrapped in the quilt. She had prepared an explanation but had not intended to anger him.

“Your Highness, forgive me. I thought that after giving birth to Chen’er, my body had fully recovered, but it seems…” she began hesitantly.

Li Changye, sitting on the bedside with his back to her, closed his eyes briefly upon hearing her anxious and apologetic words. When he opened them again, his voice was low and cold: “If you are unwell, Crown Princess, then rest.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she replied, feeling relieved.

The Crown Prince reached for the bell on the round stool but withdrew his hand midway, then strode out toward the outer chamber.

It was understandable; calling for attendants so soon would damage his dignity and invite suspicion of some hidden ailment.

Pei Yun yawned long and wide. Since he had told her to rest, she no longer had to worry and tidied her disheveled nightgown before lying down to sleep.

Outside, Li Changye sat at a rosewood desk in the outer chamber, casually picking up a book of sages’ teachings. He flipped through it for a while, finally dissipating the restless fire within.

He glanced toward the inner chamber; it was silent. After some thought, he set the book down and walked toward the bed.

Lifting the curtain, he saw the outline of a graceful figure lying on her side under the quilt, breathing steady and deep in sleep.

His expression darkened further.

Earlier, in bed, he had clearly seen that her expression was not of pain but complete disdain.

No matter how patient he was, he was still a man with pride, and he could not bear the woman beneath him showing such contempt during their union.

Yet, Pei Shi seemed completely indifferent to angering him, displaying no fear whatsoever.

He was not foolish; her excuse was obviously a feint, merely a casual dismissal.

After playing along, she had fallen asleep so peacefully.

Li Changye could not understand it. Given Pei Shi’s usual decorum and respect, she had never before fallen asleep before him or turned her back on him.

A deep, indescribable heaviness filled his heart—not anger, but something else he could not name.

Haunted by his thoughts, he barely slept the entire night.

Outside Linlang Palace, Chang Lu and several servants stayed on watch until the fourth watch. Seeing no movement inside and no summons, they knew the two masters had gone straight to rest. Chang Lu ordered two to keep vigil while the others went to sleep.

After over an hour, Chang Lu was roused by a junior eunuch, who said the Young Lord had risen. He hurried to attend, finding Li Changye already quietly dressed and preparing to attend the New Year’s court ceremony at Taihe Hall.

Having served so many years, Chang Lu immediately noticed the Young Lord’s low spirits.

What had happened overnight?

He could not fathom it but guessed it might have something to do with the Crown Princess, since it was only the two of them in the chamber.

Careful not to speculate, Chang Lu spoke cautiously.

As they walked along the palace path, he tried to distract his master with news he thought might interest him, saying, “Your Highness, I heard that last night, after His Majesty returned, he suddenly took a fancy and issued an imperial edict overnight, arranging a marriage for Princess Wulan.”

Li Changye, lost in thought, looked up. “To whom?”

“To Prince Yong.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Li Changye’s face before he quickly accepted it as reasonable.

Prince Yong was his father’s half-brother, whom he respectfully called Sixteenth Uncle, though only three years his senior. Prince Yong was a skilled warrior but had been severely wounded in battle at nineteen and was now disabled, rarely leaving the Yong Mansion for years.

“Since the passing of Prince Yong’s consort, he has not remarried. Now, with Princess Wulan to care for him, it seems a good match,” Chang Lu continued boldly, noting his master’s apparent interest. “This also settles the matter of her marriage, quelling all rumors outside.”

Li Changye understood Chang Lu’s meaning. His father’s mention of letting Princess Wulan choose had not been mere drunken talk.

Ever since Princess Wulan arrived in the capital, rumors swirled about her marriage, the most common being that she would enter the Eastern Palace as a concubine.

At this thought, Li Changye halted momentarily, as if a realization struck him.

Could Pei Shi’s unusual behavior last night be related to Princess Wulan?

Unlike the consorts of Yu and Cheng princes, who appeared calm but were inwardly anxious and worried—so much so that they lost their temper at night with him—it seemed Pei Shi’s actions stemmed from jealousy.

His doubt vanished in an instant, replaced by clarity.

He pursed his lips slightly.

So even the cold and aloof Pei Shi could be possessive and jealous after all.