Before this, Pei Zhaoye had never imagined such ultimate pleasure existed in the world.

That comfortable, spasmodic sensation had not yet fully receded. His heartbeat was strong, the blood beneath his skin and flesh surging rapidly, a mix of destructive desire and excitement overflowing throughout his entire body.

Lizhu could not help but curl her toes.

“…Can you really not be a little more reserved?”

His forehead hair was soaked with sweat, his breathing still uneven, but satisfied, his entire person exuded a looseness from the tips of his hair down to his toes.

“Reserved enough,” he lowered his head, pressing close to her ear as he kissed her meticulously, “The more excessive things, I only say to myself.”

Damp, warm, like a small animal nuzzling her face.

All the strength from before was now restrained, kissing with the utmost tenderness.

As if he could never tire of kissing her.

Lizhu felt a little ticklish, tilting her head to shrink away:

“There are more excessive things?”

Her eyes were filled with disbelief.

Pei Zhaoye did not answer, but asked: “Lizhu, I am satisfied, and you?”

“…”

“Are you satisfied?”

“…This doesn’t count as the more excessive words in your heart?”

“Of course not.”

He smiled slightly, as if she had said something childish.

“No answer? Was my performance not good enough, is the princess not satisfied?”

Though the words were spoken from a low position, the mountainous, defined muscles of his back at this moment were too aggressive. No matter how low he made his posture, the sense of oppression did not diminish in the slightest.

It was as if, if Lizhu said she was not satisfied, he would immediately take action the next moment—

Until she said she was satisfied.

“Satisfied!”

Lizhu, hugging a soft pillow, nodded hurriedly, a bit flustered under his gaze, her words tumbling out:

“You are very good in every way, I am very satisfied, and… and it wasn’t too long, to make me too tired, really very good.”

She smiled with a face full of sincerity.

In her previous life, she had never praised Pei Yinzhi like this.

Because he was always, always unable to finish for so very long, tiring her out until she pretended to cry, then really cried, yet he would only coax her gently, not letting her go in the slightest.

Not like this time, where every step was exceptionally accommodating to her.

Pei Zhaoye watched her silently, his eyes very dark. After a good while, he suddenly pulled out a smile.

“Does the Princess wish to drink water?” He asked.

Her mouth had been slightly open, gasping for breath, and Lizhu’s throat was so hoarse it felt almost smoky. She nodded.

“But it seems I forgot to prepare water suitable for drinking. There is only wine in the gourd.”

“Ah? But I have a very poor tolerance for alcohol.”

Pei Zhaoye casually grabbed an inner garment and put it on, got down from the couch, and fetched the gourd. “It doesn’t matter if you get drunk. I am keeping watch tonight; no thief would dare approach the Princess’s couch.”

Lizhu thought for a moment: “… That’s true!”

Trusting him completely, she took a large gulp to quench her thirst.

“Pei Zhaoye.”

He placed the gourd to the side, hearing her say:

“My whole body carries your scent. I want to go bathe.”

He picked her up: “Alright.”

Heating water on the boat was inconvenient. He had only heated one bucket of water. After pouring it, he carried the already drunk Lizhu into the water.

“Pei Zhaoye,” she rubbed her cheek against his palm, her eyelashes brushing against his wrist, “You are so good, almost as good as Xuan Ying.”

He poured water, watching the hot water flow down her delicate collarbone.

“I am honored.”

Xuan Ying treated her like an elder sister, like a mother. For Lizhu to mention him in the same breath as Xuan Ying was indeed high praise.

“And compared to others?”

The alcohol fumes steamed by the hot water made Lizhu’s head heavy and muddled. Resting her head on his palm with closed eyes, she asked:

“With whom…”

“Others.”

“Compare what…” Lizhu was almost asleep.

Suddenly, water splashed loudly in the bathtub. There was only one lantern in the cabin; the figure stepping into the tub blocked it, and the light abruptly went completely dark.

Lizhu keenly sensed danger, but her eyelids were so very heavy.

“Being so frightened earlier, was it because… it hurt before?”

Perhaps because the water enveloping her was too warm, or because the voice now sounding in her ear and the kisses falling on her collarbone were too gentle, the vigilance that had just begun to rise in Lizhu was gradually dismantled.

She lifted her head, pecked a kiss on his Adam’s apple, her face flushed from intoxication smiling sweetly:

“I don’t remember. You already helped me forget it.”

His heart contracted slightly.

“When I recall it in the future… I will only remember the tangerine lanterns of the New Year, remember the warm charcoal fire, remember this boat.”

She leaned over the edge of the bathtub, reaching out a pair of hands through the curling white steam, pressing against his cheeks, and said:

“… I remember there is a person, although he does not know how to speak elegant words, has not read many books, and often deceives me, but I know, he cannot bear for me to suffer hardship, cannot bear for me to be sad, he is the best young gentleman in the world.”

Lizhu was actually somewhat unable to distinguish where she was, whether it was a dream or reality.

When he asked her just now, she thought she was speaking with Pei Yinzhi from her past life.

But Pei Yinzhi had never given her tangerine lanterns.

Pei Zhaoye did not know she had been married to Tan Xun.

Her thoughts were chaotic. Lizhu remembered when she was young in the Lantai, the Grand Preceptor had told her the story of Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly.

Was it she dreaming of returning to Pei Yinzhi’s youth?

Or was it that after rebirth, she dreamed of Yinzhi from her past life?

She could not understand.

While confused, the back of her knees was lifted onto the edge of the bathtub.

“Lizhu, I am not that good. I just know how to pretend.”

The kiss fell on her eyelids. Lizhu’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

“If I could not bear for you to suffer hardship, I should carry you to sleep now, not continue… you here.”

Lizhu heard an unimaginable word.

“Are you frightened?”

He asked gently.

Lizhu nodded blankly.

“This is how I am. Before learning how to become a person, I first learned how to be an animal.”

She thought he would be moved upon hearing those words.

But Pei Zhaoye only felt a strange, intense, burning emotion tearing at his chest.

He did not know how to accept this emotion, only feeling the suffocating sensation of drowning overwhelming him, threatening to destroy his former self.

“Lizhu… Lizhu…”

He gently held the nape of her neck, embracing and kissing her tirelessly.

“You are so dangerous.”

“How can you so easily control my emotions, turning me into a dog that only knows to wag its tail and seek pleasure from you?”

Lizhu lay on his shoulder, her whole person only having the strength to sob.

What was he saying?

Names tangled and knotted in her mind. Lizhu, dizzy and muddled, was completely swept away by emotion, shouting the names that surfaced in her thoughts without restraint.

“… Pei… Pei… Yinzhi…”

Sure enough, it was effective. He immediately stopped.

Lizhu was scooped out of the water by him, dried off, and then he dried himself.

Under the dim lamplight, his back was to her. The flickering candlelight outlined the distinct, undulating ridges of his back muscles. With arms like an ape’s and a waist like a wolf’s, looking up from below, he seemed excessively towering, the sense of oppression so strong it made one unconsciously hold one’s breath.

Lizhu, wrapped in an inner garment, sat upright on a low stool waiting for him.

What was she waiting for him to do?

Lizhu’s mind couldn’t quite process it.

But upon hearing him drop the cloth with a not-too-light, not-too-heavy sound and turn around, an instinctual alertness prompted Lizhu to suddenly stand up and retreat two steps in succession.

Two extremely terrifying words flashed through her mind.

She knew what he was going to do!!

“Run?”

Pei Zhaoye let out a short laugh.

“Where does the Princess wish to run to?”

Lizhu had just left the bathing room when he effortlessly hoisted her onto his shoulder, strode swiftly, and directly tossed her onto the soft bedding.

He pressed down upon her.

She continuously called him Yinzhi, pleading and coquettishly.

Pei Zhaoye did not listen to half a word.

She was calling Pei Yinzhi; what did it have to do with him?

A secret jealousy burned through him.

He heard her changed, choked sobs, his movements abruptly freezing. Those moist eyes gradually lost focus, vacant and utterly pitiful.

“Tired?”

He stroked her damp temple hair.

Lizhu gasped for breath, and after a good while, she finally clutched his lapel and nodded wrongly.

“Good that you’re tired.”

Pinching her jaw, he kissed her unconsciously slightly parted lips.

“The Princess called the little dog by the wrong name. Of course, the little dog wouldn’t listen to the Princess.”

“But it’s alright. I won’t be angry.”

“However many times you did it with him, just do it that many times with me. Princess, I am very easy to appease.”

Under the moonlit night, the boat rocked with layered ripples, the tangerine lantern drifting away on the water.

Pei Zhaoye buried his face in the crook of her neck, sweat droplets falling, his wildly beating heart gradually calming.

Though only for an instant.

But in this instant, he sincerely thanked his other self.

•—–٠✤٠—–•

Lizhu slept very deeply this time.

Like a mortal whose essence had been drained by a male fox spirit, she lay curled deeply in his embrace, without even the strength to turn over.

When the sky began to lighten at dawn, she vaguely started to dream.

She was dreaming of strange scenes again.

Pei Zhaoye, sleeping beside her on the same couch, thought the same.

In the dream, it was also snowing.

The snow was the snow of Luoyang City, falling on the Twenty-Four Streets. The servants of the Princess’s residence carried a palanquin, moving through the quiet night of Luoyang.

Pei Zhaoye heard Changjun’s voice:

“Among the court officials, there are only these few influential senior ministers left. This is the last one. There are still five days until the court assembly. Princess, who else can we seek out now?”

The silk umbrella lifted slightly. A face as beautiful as peach and plum blossoms, illuminated by the snowy scenery, looked so exquisite it seemed otherworldly.

Changjun said with grief and indignation: “If the Grand Preceptor were still here… the Grand Preceptor would never…”

She slowly shook her head.

It was still that familiar face.

But she had matured considerably compared to the one Pei Zhaoye knew. Only, the innocent charm had faded, and she did not look happy.

Her eyes were lowered, fine brows weighed down with countless worries. A glimmer of tears had just appeared in her eyes when she raised her hand and wiped it away.

“The Grand Preceptor is gone. His Majesty is also gone. It doesn’t matter. I will save myself. I will not give up until the day of the court assembly!”

The young eunuch stared at her blankly.

Lizhu outside the dream knew when this was.

In her previous life, the Grand Preceptor starved himself to death after the first defeat at Nanyong.

Not two years later, Emperor Mingzhao passed away from illness. In the first year of Shen Fu’s accession, he proposed that she go to the northern lands for a marriage alliance.

It was this year.

However, Lizhu suddenly noticed something unusual.

She knew she was dreaming, but in the previous few dreams, what she saw was Pei Zhaoye’s past. Why this time was she dreaming of herself…

“Grand Servant, shall we go now?”

In the wind and snow, a familiar form of address reached Lizhu’s ears.

Lizhu outside the dream turned her head in astonishment.

A carriage she had never noticed in her previous life was now quietly parked in the shadow of an alley.

“Not yet.”

From inside the carriage, a lazy, deep voice sounded.

In the bitter wind, frost, and severe cold, his voice also carried faint threads of cold indifference, as if devoid of any emotion.

“Tomorrow, she will go to seek out one more person. Send someone to pass a message to the maid beside Xue Daorong. As long as Xue Daorong learns of this matter, she will definitely stay in the residence tomorrow to prevent Tan Xun from meeting her.”

“Yes.”

The subordinate beside him lifted his head and asked hesitantly:

“Grand Servant, when did you incur such deep enmity with the Princess of Qinghe? Although the Princess’s marriage alliance is a settled matter, and these people cannot help her… but to not let her see a single one, isn’t it too pitiful?”

The Princess… a marriage alliance?

Pei Zhaoye outside the dream heard these words, his heart sinking.

So that’s it.

So this is what she meant by that old man she kept mentioning!

The King of Baiyue is a clansman of the Shen family. Even if Lizhu were to enter a marriage alliance, it wouldn’t be with him, but only with the Wuhuan Chanyu.

A fifty-year-old man. So there really was such an old man.

Pei Zhaoye looked towards the figure in the carriage.

In this moment, he inexplicably shared a mental connection with him, guessing what this version of himself actually intended to do.

“No enmity, no grudge.”

He said, “It’s just that, if she is not left isolated and without support, even if she hears the news, she will not come to beg me.”

She would only think that the wood is already carved into a boat, even the Censor-in-Chief is powerless, so what can a mere Grand Servant do?

The person in the carriage said leisurely:

“She must absolutely not resign herself to fate. If she accepts her fate, how can I collect this debt from Tan Xun?”

The dream was collapsing, the scene reconstructing. The gate of the Tan family residence appeared before them.

“Princess, this morning Madam Xue felt unwell. Young Master Xun is attending to her and fears he has no time to receive guests. Madam Xue said she will certainly visit another day to apologize to the Princess in person, but today, please return, Princess.”

Changjun looked in astonishment at the Princess beside him.

Lizhu stood in the wind and snow, motionless for a long time.

After a long while, she lowered her head, tugged at the corner of her lips:

“That’s right. He is divorced from me now. With his beloved Yingniang, they should be deeply immersed in affection right now.”

Just as the Tan family maid thought the Princess was about to retreat in the face of difficulty.

Lizhu said: “But, today I will not leave. No matter what, I must see him once.”

She knew what kind of person Tan Xun was. She did not believe he would truly refuse to even see her once, to reject her face-to-face.

“… Tsk, I underestimated her.”

The sound of rustling came from inside the carriage as an outer robe was unfastened.

“If we really let her wait, even if his old mother bangs her head against a pillar, I’m afraid Tan Xun would still soften his heart and rush out.”

Lizhu outside the dream watched as the carriage curtain was abruptly lifted aside.

Fine snow fluttered down.

That person wore a ceremonial cap and had removed his official robe, but she could still recognize him at a glance: this was the twenty-six-year-old Pei Yinzhi she knew best.

She saw him step onto a pile of firewood nearby, leap onto the eaves, and flip into the Tan family compound.

She saw him sneak into the inner quarters with practiced ease, waiting quietly in the shadows.

Tan Xun, chased by seven or eight armed men, charged forward recklessly, determined to get out. But just after passing a rockery, he was struck from behind and knocked unconscious by Pei Yinzhi, who had been lying in wait.

He squatted beside Tan Xun:

“You really are like a child who only cries for milk after it’s dead. If you knew today would come, why did you act that way initially?”

“Oh, I forgot, your initial situation was also my doing… Well, nothing to be done about that.”

The twenty-six-year-old Pei Yinzhi had long shed the bandit demeanor he once had at Yushan. Only when alone would a trace of his former ruthlessness occasionally leak through his gentle, scholarly disguise.

Tan Xun was carried back inside the residence by his household staff.

Outside the gate, the Princess, under the gaze of countless eyes with varied expressions, stood waiting bitterly before her former husband’s home, completely unaware.

Pei Yinzhi, who had forcibly separated the lovers, brushed the snow off his clothes.

On the eaves opposite the Tan residence, he stayed with her from afternoon deep into the night.

He said nothing. No one knew what he was thinking.

... So that’s how it was.

Pei Zhaoye outside the dream watched as Lizhu returned home dejected and lost.

While crying bitterly under the covers, Lizhu suddenly heard from Xuan Ying that Grand Servant Pei Yinzhi had intentions towards her and that she might try using feminine wiles.

It was a trap he set.

From beginning to end, it was him behind the scenes, seizing the opportunity, forcing her into a corner with no way out, until she had no choice but to overcome her shame and actively seduce him, while he pretended to be a righteous gentleman—

A long-standing confusion was finally resolved. Pei Zhaoye let out a breath. His first reaction was:

She definitely doesn’t know.

Thank goodness she doesn’t know.