Her Majesty The Empress Has Made Her Debut In The Center Position [Ancient to Modern] - Chapter 45.2

She wiped the water off her hand, opened the chat with Pei Jia, and repeated the conversation. Pei Jia, also soaking in a bath, replied instantly: “Boss Ji… isn’t this… isn’t this sexual harassment?”

Ji Zhao paused. “What do you mean by ‘sexual harassment’?”

“Oh, not exactly,” Pei Jia quickly clarified. “If you made me go to your room in the middle of the night, that would be sexual harassment. But since you and Yu Cheng aren’t in a superior-subordinate relationship, and she seems to have a higher position in the company than you, at most you’re just flirting with her.”

Ji Zhao: “……”

After a moment’s silence, she asked: “If Yu Cheng were my subordinate, would my actions be considered sexual harassment? Would that be immoral?”

Pei Jia pondered. “You weren’t really trying to harass her, were you? Just a little flirting.”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment.

“You have no idea how severe the harassment and unwritten rules are for women in the workplace,” Pei Jia said. “Those greasy, pot-bellied men will terrify you, and even if you clearly refuse, you still can’t escape it.”

“Getting off-topic. How can men even compare to women?” Pei Jia reminded Ji Zhao. “Keep your seduction subtle—just enough to keep your options open. Retreat to focusing on your rigorous rehearsals for the stage, or advance to… you know. But keep it balanced!”

Ji Zhao: “Mm!”

She asked: “What does ‘you know’ mean?”

Pei Jia: “……”

She sometimes really worried about her future.

She worried that her boss was too naive and would be tricked, and she worried that she knew too much and wouldn’t be able to escape even if she wanted to.

Ji Zhao, meanwhile, fell into deep thought after listening to Pei Jia’s explanation.

Pei Jia’s explanation was simple:

Rolling in the sheets = going to bed.

Ji Zhao knew very well what “going to bed” meant, and after visiting that experience hall, she also knew the three ways two women could “go to bed”:

Hardworking hands.

A clever tongue.

And abundant tools.

Wait a minute.

Ji Zhao stood up from the bathtub, water droplets falling from her body. She stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped a towel around herself, and pondered a question: Could she really be expected to serve Yu Cheng?

Then she thought, Well, it’s not impossible.

Yu Cheng always avoided looking at her and would undoubtedly be shy in bed. The way she would moan “Your Majesty” in passion was incredibly alluring. Serving Yu Cheng wouldn’t be so bad.

Just as she left the bathroom, Yu Cheng arrived, dressed neatly and carrying the night’s darkness with her as she stood at the entrance. “Your Majesty.”

“Come in.” Ji Zhao casually tossed aside the towel, glancing sideways at Yu Cheng’s stiff posture. She retrieved a bathrobe from the wardrobe, leaned back slightly to look at Yu Cheng, and smiled. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll eat you?”

Yu Cheng remained motionless. “Yesterday, I left Your Majesty alone in the practice room. Please punish me.”

“The practice room?” Ji Zhao feigned indifference. “Everyone has their own affairs to attend to. I understand. But since you mention punishment, perhaps I should punish you.”

Yu Cheng stood at attention, bracing for the strike.

Ji Zhao tightened the belt of her bathrobe. “How should I punish you?”

Before Yu Cheng could answer, Ji Zhao listed possibilities herself. “A beating? Who would administer it? I can’t very well do it myself. Besides, if I beat you too hard, how will you dance? A reduction in salary? I don’t pay your salary anyway, so that’s not possible. So, Esteemed Minister Yu, tell me—how should I punish you?”

Yu Cheng remained silent. “…I don’t know.”

“Then think about it. Once you’ve decided, I’ll combine your offenses and punish you accordingly.” Ji Zhao sat on the bed. “Come sit.”

The stage they were rehearsing required a bed, with half a minute of the performance taking place on it. Though they wouldn’t use such a large bed during the actual performance to facilitate quick transitions, it was fine for rehearsals.

Ji Zhao called out to the AI to play the music. The sexually charged, pulsating melody immediately filled the room. Ji Zhao crossed her legs, her foot sliding across Yu Cheng’s thigh before resting against the back of her calf. In an instant, she shifted positions.

Ji Zhao stepped on Yu Cheng’s foot and looked up at her. “You’re wearing too much.”

Yu Cheng licked her lips. “It’s a little cold.”

“Liar.” Ji Zhao tugged at the shirt pinned to Yu Cheng’s waist, tiptoed closer, and whispered, “Will you wear this much even on stage, Esteemed Minister Yu?”

Yu Cheng’s face flushed crimson. Her hand, which had been about to rest on Ji Zhao’s waist, froze mid-air.

Just as she was about to give in to the blatant temptation and act presumptuously, she suddenly remembered their roles as teammates and subjects. Shame exploded within her, and she clenched her fist. “Your Majesty…”

Inside, Ji Zhao frowned. What’s going on, Yu Cheng? Isn’t this body supposed to prefer women? Is it really my lack of charm, or is Yu Cheng’s self-control just that impressive? Can she really resist even this blatant of advances?

Her eyes darted, and an idea struck. “Yu Cheng.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I was just reading the netizens’ comments.” She pulled out her phone, pointed to a comment, and teased, “They all say you adore me! Tell me, are you plotting something against me?”

Yu Cheng’s eyes widened in panic. “Of course not! My feelings for Your Majesty are those of a subject for her sovereign!”

Ji Zhao gave her a meaningful look, tossed her phone aside, and feigned surprise. “Then why was your heart racing so fast last night when I stole a kiss from you?”

“What? When did you—?”

Ji Zhao hadn’t actually kissed her, but she was skilled at framing others. She pinched Yu Cheng’s cheek. “Your face is still so flushed!”

Yu Cheng: “!!!”

Her explanation was feeble. “Your Majesty, I…”

No way! She didn’t even touch me!

Ji Zhao gritted her teeth, staring into Yu Cheng’s eyes. Under Yu Cheng’s watchful gaze, she slowly leaned back until she lost her balance and was about to fall. Strong arms caught her and lifted her up.

Yu Cheng turned and pulled her into his embrace.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” he asked urgently.

Ji Zhao smirked triumphantly, settling comfortably against him. She feigned annoyance. “What’s wrong with you? No balance at all? If you’d just supported my waist, would I have fallen?”

It was a bit of a stretch, but Yu Cheng was too preoccupied to notice. “This subject was wrong.”

Ji Zhao hummed in acknowledgment. “Carry me to the bed.”

Yu Cheng froze.

Ji Zhao raised her voice. “My words don’t count anymore, do they?”

Yu Cheng said, “No.”

She asked, “Is Your Majesty tired?”

Ji Zhao wanted to glare at her, but she held back. “Didn’t we start the dance in bed?”

Yu Cheng grumbled a dull “Oh.”

Right, this song started explosively, the choreography clean and powerful, even the intimate moments were intense tugs and pulls. The bed scenes were especially daring—even Cheng Feiwan had warned them, “Be careful you don’t fall in love with your dance partner.”

You’d fall in love even without dancing, let alone with the dance.

Yu Cheng gently laid Ji Zhao on the bed. The song was nearing its end, but in the loop, the end flowed seamlessly into the beginning. No sooner had Ji Zhao collapsed onto the bed than the movements began again.

I wanna be your slave

I wanna be your master

The implication was clear.

The dance moves in this section were clearly push-pull. While in front of the camera, everyone spoke grandly of the dance’s difficulty and the required skill, but away from the camera, the dance teacher spoke bluntly.

“You’re fighting for dominance,” the dance teacher said, squatting down in front of them. “To put it simply, you’re fighting over who’s ‘Number 1’.”

“……”

“Of course, girls pursue shared pleasure, but some seek mental stimulation, while others are Pillow Princesses. But the initiative isn’t necessarily held by the one taking the lead, do you understand?”

At that moment, Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng both fell silent.

Yu Cheng understood. After all, her original body was a lesbian, and she was well-versed in both lesbian and LGBTQ+ subcultures. Yu Cheng hated her instant comprehension.

Ji Zhao genuinely didn’t understand. Although she had already visited that club, the sheer volume of information required time to process.

“So, being a Pillow Princess just means lying in bed and not moving?” Ji Zhao asked.

The dance teacher said, “It’s not about being completely still. You can move, but… hiss… how do I put this?”

“The Pillow Princess follows along, while the one in control guides her,” Yu Cheng explained.

Ji Zhao made an understanding noise. “Then I want to be the one in control.”

Yu Cheng turned to look at her. “It’ll be exhausting.”

“Huh?” Ji Zhao asked.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Yu Cheng advised.

“Oh,” Ji Zhao replied.

And just like that, Yu Cheng had talked her into it.

Yu Cheng didn’t see it as manipulation, though. She firmly believed that Her Majesty should not be burdened with effort; her role was simply to enjoy the pleasures. As for herself, she was only worthy of kissing the Emperor because of the Imperial Grace bestowed upon her.

The background music neared its end once more.

I’m a fucking monster

I’m a vile, despicable bastard

Who’s searching for redemption

Longing to be saved

I wanna be your slave

I want to be your slave

I wanna be your master

I also want to be your master

Yu Cheng gripped Ji Zhao by the neck and pulled her close.

Yu Cheng lowered her head.

In the original choreography, as shown in the instructional video sent by the dance teacher, Yu Cheng’s partner would lean down and kiss her. The two would then forget the stage and share a passionate French kiss for half a minute.

The choreographer had said, “You’re both idols and the same gender, so you can’t kiss on stage. I haven’t figured out a better ending pose yet, so just lock eyes for now.”

The ending pose was crucial for the stage. Many duo performances relied on the final gesture to dramatically increase their visual impact and ignite the audience’s emotions.

Now, Ji Zhao and Yu Cheng stared at each other in the silent air.

Their breaths intertwined.

Ji Zhao could hear her heartbeat.

She didn’t know if it was hers or Yu Cheng’s, but it pounded like it was about to leap from her throat, loud and insistent. Yet neither moved to end this ambiguous moment.

Ji Zhao lacked the strength, while Yu Cheng simply didn’t want to.

She thought, Your Majesty looks so beautiful like this, even more so than usual. The sweat glistening on her lovely face gives it a rosy flush, and her full lips are as vibrant as cherries, almost… tempting me.

Her throat felt dry, and an alarm sounded in her mind, warning her to stop. But the words that came out were: “What body wash does Your Majesty use?”

Ji Zhao was taken aback. “… The hotel’s.”

Oh, the hotel’s.

It was the same as hers, the same as everyone who had stayed in this hotel. But why did it smell so much sweeter on Your Majesty?

She thought it, and she said it.

It was truly impudent.

But she couldn’t help it.

Ji Zhao’s lips trembled. “Yu Cheng, what… what do you mean by that? Are you trying to…”

The wind blew through the gauzy curtains, lifting a corner and revealing a glimpse of Hong Kong’s night skyline. In the dim light, a red trolley car trundled by, its roof perched with birds preening their feathers. Everything was quiet, then vanished beneath the dim streetlights.

The wind continued to blow.

Ji Zhao’s unfinished words faded into the silence.

Yu Cheng kissed her lips.

Support