The Duke of Huguo sat in silence, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his carved cedar chair. A thin wisp of incense curled upward, yet even its calming scent failed to settle his mind. His gaze sank deep, far deeper than the stillness of the room.
Lang Huan… that child had become impossible to control. When he lost his mother, he had already been old enough to understand—old enough to remember every detail. And what if the boy had only been pretending to have lost his memories? Who knew what seeds had been planted in his heart back then?
If the Eldest Princess truly carried Lang Huan's child, then he would take the child by force, by any means necessary, to secure the bloodline. Under his guidance, that child would rise to become Great Qi's future emperor, a perfect pawn shaped into a perfect sovereign. Satisfaction stirred in his chest. A slow, calculated smile curled his lips.
The Eldest Princess stepped out, placing a steady hand on A Li's arm for support. Her expression was calm.
She walked straight past Su Qing, but before she could take another step, Su Qing's cold voice cut through the air.
"It seems… you didn't take my warning seriously."
Feng Yao halted. The sheer audacity of the woman amused her. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, one that neither reached her eyes nor softened her presence.
"Oh?"
As someone who had survived countless power struggles, the impulse to silence this woman forever flickered through her mind, yet for the sake of that little brat, she forced herself to compromise. "With your intelligence, surely you know better than to cling to a man who feels nothing for you."
"If you no longer wish to be Madam Su… I can arrange for you to leave this place."
Her expression did not soften. "Consider it carefully."
Without waiting for Su Qing's response, she turned away. A Cai, who had been watching nervously from a distance, hurried over and guided her toward Lang Huan's courtyard.
"Your Highness," A Cai said as they walked, "the Duke of Huguo is hosting a banquet tonight to welcome you and the young master."
Seeing the Eldest Princess's displeased expression, A Cai tried to lift her mood. "If Your Highness feels bored, you may ask our young master to sing and play the guitar. He is the best."
Sing? She had never once heard Lang Huan sing. The thought softened her expression for a brief moment.
"Thank you, A Cai."
A Cai knocked lightly on the door. Lang Huan opened it with a quiet smile, but that smile faded into concern the moment she saw Feng Yao. A Li quietly closed the door before taking her leave.
She stepped forward to embrace her, but the princess tapped her forehead with a single finger. "Don't touch me before you bathe."
Lang Huan froze. Had she noticed the faint trace of another woman's scent?
Feng Yao swept her gaze across the room—simple, tidy. Her eyes paused on an instrument resembling a guqin, yet unlike any she had ever seen, leaning against the wall. So this was the "guitar" A Cai had mentioned.
Then her attention shifted to the scattered sheets on the desk—pages covered in unfamiliar handwriting and rough sketches she did not recognize. She had heard that Lang Huan's robe had been made according to her design. There was something quietly intriguing about discovering these fragments of Lang Huan's private world.
The maid soon finished preparing the bath. Steam drifted softly through the room as Lang Huan untied her robes.
"Are you not going to join me?" she whispered quietly.
Lang Huan stepped behind her, fingers gentle as she loosened Feng Yao's outer robe. Silk slid softly from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.
---
Su Qing ignored the Eldest Princess entirely. She entered Lang Huan's courtyard carrying a fur-lined cloak she had finished by hand during the long lonely months of waiting. It was only when she noticed the distinctly flushed faces of the princess's guard and A Li that her steps faltered.
A Li knew Su Qing—dignified and ever-mindful of propriety, a woman who never overstepped her bounds. And so, she made no move to stop her. She only prayed that once Madam Su witnessed the bond between the Eldest Princess and her husband, her heart would finally give up.
The ambiguous sounds from the side window made Su Qing freeze. Soft moans and ragged breaths painted a vivid picture of the intimacy unfolding inside. As a married woman taught in the ways of the bedchamber, she knew exactly what was happening.
Inside, Feng Yao straddled Lang Huan's waist in the bath, rocking her hips in a slow rhythm. Lang Huan's finger worked inside her, each movement sending gentle ripples across the water's surface.
Lang Huan's free hand traced soothing patterns along Feng Yao's spine as she asked, "What did my father discuss with you? Why did it take so long?"
A sharp, pleasurable gasp escaped Feng Yao. "Nghh... Are you sure," she panted, her arms winding around Lang Huan's shoulders for anchor, "you want to talk about that... right in this situation?"
The last threads of Feng Yao's patience snapped. A low, shuddering moan escaped her lips as her back arched sharply, her body tensing like a drawn bowstring. "Ahhh… Lang Huan… Lang Huan…!"
Her hands moved to cradle Lang Huan's head, guiding her mouth down to a pebbled, aching peak. Feng Yao's arms tightened around Lang Huan in a desperate embrace, her hips pressing down as her climax crashed through her.
Before the last tremor had subsided, Lang Huan lifted the trembling princess from the water, carried her to the edge of the large wooden tub, and gently leaned her back against its cool, carved side. The steam curled around their heated skin.
Lang Huan lifted one of Feng Yao's legs over her shoulder, opening her completely to her gaze. Then, she lowered her head and buried her face between Feng Yao's slender thighs, her tongue and lips seeking the sensitive, throbbing core of her pleasure, intent on building her peak all over again.
Su Qing's cheeks warmed despite the cold air.From inside came a restrained cry, followed by a breathless plea for Lang Huan to stop. Even the proud, untouchable Eldest Princess… still fulfilled the duties of a wife.
She had once believed that such a woman would never bend to anyone—yet now, she had yielded beneath her husband.
The little duke, she had watched over and accompanied, was now drifting farther and farther out of her reach. It seemed she had gravely underestimated the relationship between the two.
Her eyes reddened, though she kept her expression composed. Su Qing placed the cloak into A Li's hands with careful politeness and turned away without another word.
She left the courtyard in silence. No matter how she tried, she could not understand what made Feng Yao so worthy of Lang Huan's devotion. And she wondered—after the truth was revealed, would Lang Huan still be willing to touch her at all?