Chapter 12: Flames of Desire Beneath the Moonlight at Yuehua Palace
That night...
The Yuehua Palace was shrouded in silence. Moonlight streamed through intricately carved wooden windows, casting ethereal patterns across the polished wooden floors.
Li Feitian—Qi Dongyang—pushed open the door softly, stepping into the room, wearied from the day's burdens.
Inside, everything had been meticulously arranged.
The gauzy curtains fluttered in the gentle breeze; candlelight flickered faintly, lending the chamber a dreamlike quality.
Yet something caused him to halt mid-step—
The bed's veil had been slightly drawn open.
Qi Dongyang's brows furrowed slightly.
He reached out, cautiously pulling aside the curtain.
Within, a woman awaited him.
She sat—half-reclining amidst embroidered silk cushions—draped in a pale pink gown adorned with delicate white blossoms.
Her skin gleamed like snow beneath the moonlight.
Her lips were tinted a soft rose, matching her graceful, slender features.
Her long, obsidian hair was loosely gathered and adorned with an exquisite jade hairpin.
Her gaze was enigmatic, like the surface of a moonlit lake—deep, still, and impossible to fathom.
"Your Highness..."
The woman's sweet voice drifted through the stillness as she lowered herself into a respectful bow before tilting her head up, her eyes inviting yet mysterious.
"Tonight, I have been sent to serve Your Highness, to help you find rest before tomorrow's great duel."
Qi Dongyang raised an eyebrow, studying her carefully.
In his former world, he had been a soldier—a simple man, unaccustomed to the elaborate customs of royal life.
Here, it seemed common for the Emperor to arrange such comfort before a decisive battle.
Since it was offered so openly, there was no reason to refuse.
"Very well... come closer,"
he said, slipping off the outer robe as the young beauty approached, carrying with her the faint fragrance of plum blossoms.
The soft clinking of ornaments accompanied her movements.
But just then—
A flash of green!
The jade hairpin was drawn with lightning speed—aimed straight at his throat!
Yet Qi Dongyang moved faster.
His strong hand clamped tightly around her slender wrist, stopping the deadly strike mere inches from his skin.
The woman's face paled; her eyes trembled as she realized her plan had failed.
"Tch... You are swift indeed,"
she hissed.
Qi Dongyang narrowed his eyes, a cold smile curling his lips.
In one smooth motion, he twisted her wrist, forcing the hairpin to drop, and pinned her firmly onto the bed.
"Who sent you?"
he asked, voice like ice.
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes still defiant.
"You know the penalty for attempting to assassinate a prince?"
She glared back, managing a faint, mocking smile.
"If you fear death so much, how will you ever face Chu's general tomorrow?"
Qi Dongyang froze for a brief moment—then laughed softly.
"Brave words,"
he murmured,
"I do not fear death—I have danced with it more times than I can count. But I will not die without knowing why."
He tightened his grip on her wrist.
"Tell me—who sent you?"
The room was heavy with tension.
The moonlight caressed the silk curtains, casting the two locked figures into stark relief.
Still, she refused to speak.
"Silent?"
Qi Dongyang sneered.
"Do you believe you will die so easily?"
The woman's eyes flickered slightly, betraying her inner turmoil, but her lips remained sealed.
Qi Dongyang watched her intently, then gave a soft, almost amused chuckle.
"If words will not loosen your tongue..."
he whispered, tilting her chin up to force her to meet his gaze,
"then perhaps other means will."
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as his firm body pressed against hers, the warmth of his breath brushing against her ear.
"You tried to seduce me to get close, did you not?"
he murmured with mocking tenderness.
"Very well—let me grant you what you sought."
Under the silver moonlight, within the perfumed mist of incense and blossoms, passion ignited.
Silken robes slid to the floor like petals in the wind, the rich red of the carpets and the faint glow of candles painting an intoxicating portrait of the night.
On the bed draped in crimson silk, Li Feitian—Qi Dongyang—knelt over the trembling figure of the woman.
Her large, luminous eyes met his, filled with a mixture of fear and helpless longing.
He lowered his face to hers, his warm lips brushing over her cool skin, tracing a tender path from her slender neck downward.
She stifled a whimper as his lips caressed the supple curves of her breast, lingering with masterful tenderness.
His rough palms glided over her body, coaxing shudders of pleasure with each touch, his fingertips grazing over her like the softest lotus petals.
The woman whimpered softly, her slender legs parting instinctively, surrendering to the tide of heat and desire that overwhelmed her.
Li Feitian murmured against her trembling body,
"So sweet... beyond imagination..."
With slow, deliberate movements, he entered her.
The tight heat embraced him fully, drawing a gasp from her lips.
The once-silent palace chamber was now filled with the sounds of passion—the shuddering gasps, the murmured moans—as two bodies merged into one.
The silk veils fluttered like ghostly wings.
The moonlight caught the sheen of sweat upon bare skin, illuminating the curve of her back as she clung to him.
After what felt like an eternity of rapture, the two lay tangled together beneath the crimson canopy.
Li Feitian cradled her gently against his chest, his breath still slightly ragged.
"Now... will you tell me?"
His voice was soft, almost coaxing, but his gaze was as sharp as a sword.
The woman hesitated, then sighed.
"I will tell you..."
He smiled faintly, waiting.
"My name is Li Tingting. I am the daughter of Li Shen, an official who was imprisoned last year."
"Li Shen... the magistrate accused of corruption?"
Qi Dongyang's brow furrowed instantly.
She shook her head fiercely.
"No! My father was innocent. He was framed—because he opposed the schemes of Chancellor Liu Shang."
"Liu Shang, again..."
Qi Dongyang chuckled coldly.
"And you agreed to this assassination attempt for them?"
Li Tingting bit her lip, her voice trembling.
"I had no choice. Prince Feizhen's men told me—if I succeeded in killing you, they would release my father and restore our family's honor."
Qi Dongyang was silent for a long moment.
He reached out and gently stroked her hair.
"Poor child,"
he whispered.
She trembled slightly at his touch, knowing full well that her fate was now irrevocably bound to his.