Scholar's Wife in the Emperor's Court 43 (End)
In the distance, Qu Zhujun's sword dance remained crisp and clear, intertwining with the rustling wind at their ears, like the most beautiful melody of the night.
But suddenly, Chen Yao felt as though all sound around her had faded into silence.
The next second, a pair of strong, powerful arms reached around from behind her, steadily lifting her by the waist and knees, sweeping her entirely off the ground.
Chen Yao instinctively turned her head, and sure enough, what met her eyes was Xiao Mingting's tall, stalwart figure.
"It's late; Yao Yao should return to her room now," Xiao Mingting said, lowering his head, his gaze soft as he looked at the young woman in his arms, his voice low and pleasant.
Chen Yao blinked. She wanted to say that she wasn't feeling sleepy at all.
But meeting the man's dark eyes, she ultimately obediently turned her head, waved goodbye to Shen Yunxiu and the others, and was then carried away in silence as Xiao Mingting turned and walked off.
The man's hold was always steady, but Chen Yao habitually draped her small hands around his neck, pressing herself even closer into his embrace.
Her cheek rested against his warm chest, and through the thin fabric, she could clearly hear the steady, powerful heartbeat emanating from within, causing her to unconsciously narrow her almond-shaped eyes, the delicate corners lifting slightly.
Xiao Mingting carried the young woman in his arms without a word, walking forward. It was only when he passed the entrance of the Medicine Hall that he paused slightly in his steps.
Then, abruptly changing direction, he no longer continued toward the guest courtyard's side rooms, but instead turned and stepped into the hall before him.
Incense and candles burned within the Medicine Hall, dim yet not so dark as to hinder one's sight.
"Why are we coming here?" Chen Yao's voice was dazed, a hint of confusion in her question.
Clearly, she had long forgotten the memories that had once taken place between the two of them here many years ago.
Xiao Mingting lowered his head, gently nuzzling her soft hair with his chin, a faint smile curving his thin lips. "I just wanted to revisit the old place."
As he spoke, he walked purposefully toward the six-cornered Buddha shrine placed in the inner corner.
"Yao Yao, hold on tight to me," he reminded her in a low voice.
Though a trace of bewilderment lingered in her eyes, Chen Yao obediently tightened her arms, hugging him even closer.
She watched as Xiao Mingting bent down slightly, one hand still firmly holding her, while the other did something to the Buddha shrine's base.
With a soft "click," the flat ground suddenly split open to both sides, revealing a pitch-black hole.
Before the young woman could react, the two of them plummeted straight down through the opening beneath them.
"Ah!"
The sudden sensation of weightlessness struck, making Chen Yao feel as if her heart had clenched painfully. Almost instinctively, she let out a small cry.
At the same time, memories she had long forgotten surged back into her mind like a tidal wave.
But she had no time to dwell on recollections at the moment, only burying her face deeply into the man's chest in fear, her small body trembling slightly.
Perhaps only a second passed, or perhaps longer, before they landed steadily in the underground passage.
From above her head came Xiao Mingting's low chuckle. He asked gently, "Yao Yao, do you still remember this place?"
Chen Yao's face was pale, still clearly shaken. At his words, she unconsciously lifted her eyes.
But the opening above had already closed quickly, leaving only an impenetrable darkness in the passage.
She couldn't quite see the man's features, yet in the dark, the young woman still tried her best to widen her almond-shaped eyes.
Xiao Mingting watched her adorable, dazed little expression, the smile deepening at the corners of his lips.
Without any fuss, he sat down directly on the ground with her in his arms, cradling her across his thighs.
He stretched out a hand and, with an air of casualness, grasped the young woman's slender ankle, giving it a light squeeze as if in a hint.
"Y-Your Majesty," Chen Yao instinctively shrank back her small foot, a blush blooming across her cheeks. "Your consort remembers now," she said in a soft, small voice.
Xiao Mingting deliberately leaned in closer, his warm breath sprinkling over her delicate face. "Remember what, hmm?"
His long, slender fingers continued to knead her ankle, his voice low and pleasant, as if carrying an intentional allure.
Chen Yao's lashes fluttered, her almond eyes becoming even more luminous, but she realized he was teasing her. Unable to help herself, she pressed her lips together and tried to tilt her head back.
Yet at the slightest movement, she felt the hand that had been resting on her waist slide upward, gently clasping the back of her neck.
Xiao Mingting leaned in slightly, and his warm, thin lips precisely covered hers.
At first, it was a gentle teasing, but gradually the kiss deepened. The man's tongue pried open her teeth, drawing her small tongue into a repeated cycle of sucking, licking, and intertwining, launching an unrelenting conquest.
As their lips and teeth met, ambiguous sounds of moisture soon rang out clearly in the darkness.
The man's barely suppressed gasps and breaths, mingling with the young woman's soft, delicate little voice, echoed back and forth within the narrow passage.
*
Records of history state that in the spring of the twelfth year of Wendi, Empress Chen Yao passed away in Qifeng Palace. The emperor was grief-stricken, his sorrow turning into illness, and he died beside her bier that very day. The emperor and empress had been of one heart for decades, deeply devoted in their love, and were thus buried together in Kunling.