The Fearless Empress - Chapter 5

One moment, the air was filled with icy coldness.

The next, the softness at the corner of her lips made her heart stop.

This extreme contrast sent the young empress’s heart pounding uncontrollably, an unconscious urge drawing her closer.

Breath warm against her skin, pulling her in further.

Her gaze grew dangerous in the shared breaths.

As their tongues met, the empress no longer seemed so distant even a goddess could be pulled down from her pedestal.

Suddenly, the empress pushed her away, lips parting as if to speak. Quickly, she reached out and pressed a finger to the empress’s lips.

Their eyes locked, lingering in the moment, until the empress succumbed to unconsciousness.

That ice-cold, untouchable face slowly loomed closer, leaving the young empress momentarily dazed.

She touched her own lips, then looked back at the empress, lashes fluttering lightly.

Sliding under the covers, she nestled close, her heart drumming wildly. Her hand fumbled beneath the blanket until it found the empress’s, fingers intertwining.

Then, her fingers brushed the empress’s ear, and for some reason, she recalled that storybook.

The collarbone.

As if bewitched, her hand drifted toward the empress’s neck. The cold touch met warm skin, like plunging from icy water into scalding heat her entire body jolted at the sensation.

That tingling numbness seeped slowly from her fingertips into her skin, creeping steadily toward her heart.

The young empress hadn’t expected to be burned. A shiver ran through her, a stifling heat spreading across her body, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

She withdrew her hand, breath uneven, unconsciously licking her lips.

Her slender fingers subtly formed a spell, and she whispered, “East wind come, a hundred flowers bloom, bloom!”

A beam of starlight fell upon the empress’s neck. The embroidered quilt shifted, revealing a stretch of snow-white skin.

Having tasted sweetness, the young empress couldn’t resist. In the dim light of the bedchamber, she inched closer, studying that striking, cold face with newfound clarity.

Below Cheng Sangyi’s neck lay a scar, faint with age. The young empress froze, recalling the girl who had hunted the deer.

That year, heavy snow had sealed the mountains. Venturing out for food, she had lost her way and stumbled upon a group of travelers, a young girl and boy at the lead.

The girl wore a red coat, her delicate face radiant, yet her eyes were cold and unfeeling.

Skilled in archery, the girl drew her bow as a deer passed by. A single arrow struck, piercing straight through the deer’s eye.

Startled, she hid quickly. The boy excitedly dismounted to inspect the kill, while the girl remained on horseback, her expression devoid of joy.

“Sister, can I have this deer? I want to give it to Father,” the boy asked, turning to her.

The girl’s gaze turned even colder. “My deer. Why should I give it to you?”

The boy’s face fell, watching helplessly as others dragged the deer away. He gritted his teeth, his expression disdainful.

Disdain. Contempt.

For some reason, she was drawn to them, curious about the deer’s fate. If no one claimed it, she would steal it for herself, a feast to sate her hunger.

She followed them to a campsite. The pair entered an ornate tent, and she crept closer.

“Ayi, if he wants it, just give it to him.”

“It’s mine. Why should I?” The girl stood her ground.

Her voice carried the chill of ice, as though she had descended from the highest peaks of a snow-capped mountain.

“He’s younger. You’re the elder sister be more understanding. Why fight over this?” the woman coaxed.

The girl scoffed. “No. If he wants it, let him hunt it himself.”

The icy wilderness outside was no easy place to hunt deer. Not just for a young man, but even for a fully-grown little fox like her, success was far from guaranteed.

The favoritism was truly outrageous.

She slipped inside and curled up in a corner. The charcoal fire in the tent burned bright red, making it incredibly cozy.

Lifting her head, she saw the young girl standing before her, expression stubborn, while the young man wept and sniffled. Tsk, tsk, tsk, what kind of man was this? Supposed to stand tall and unyielding, yet here he was, bawling like a baby. Had he lost his manhood and become a eunuch?

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly saw the woman raise her hand and slap the girl across the face. The woman’s fingernails scraped the girl’s neck, leaving a bright streak of blood.

That mark stood out starkly.

The girl let out a cold laugh, turned, and walked away. The little fox blinked in surprise before a hand suddenly reached toward her. “This fox is so pretty walked right into our hands. Skinning it and presenting the fur to His Majesty would surely please him.”

Disgusting brat!

The little fox bared her sharp claws, ready to strike without hesitation.

But another hand moved faster, scooping her up by the belly and lifting her into the air.

“This is my fox,” the girl declared, snatching her away before dashing off.

Up close, the little fox saw the bright red mark on the girl’s snow-white neck. It must have hurt terribly.

Once outside the tent, the girl set her down. “Go, quickly. If you fall into his hands, not even your fur will be left.”

With that, the girl turned and walked away, her silhouette painfully thin.

The young queen snapped back to the present. Even after all these years, that scar remained. Was it a warning?

Her slender fingers traced the mark slowly before she leaned down, pressing her lips to it.

It must have hurt so much.

Her lips trailed down the neck, lingering over the collarbone she had often dreamed of. She could feel Cheng Sangyi’s chest rising and falling faintly beneath her touch.

Pausing, she twirled a strand of Cheng Sangyi’s long hair around her fingers. The warmth of her lips sent heat coursing through her veins.

Cheng Sangyi’s eyes fluttered open, hazy with drowsiness as she gazed dazedly at the young queen.

The queen met her eyes, fingertips brushing the side of her neck. “Did that slap hurt?”

She lowered her head again, lips meeting Cheng Sangyi’s, feeling the woman’s body soften further beneath her.

Finding Cheng Sangyi’s ear, she nipped lightly and whispered, “I’ll avenge that slap for you.”

Warm breath ghosted over sensitive skin, drawing a soft, involuntary sound from the ice-cold beauty.

This voice low and breathy was nothing like before. It was hard to believe this was the same restrained, ascetic empress the imperial consort had spoken of.

Encouraged, the young queen didn’t stop. Her hand stroked Cheng Sangyi’s hair, the earlier tension melting away, leaving only the pounding of her heart.

In the silence, their heartbeats echoed each other.

The queen’s chest tingled as her gaze fell on Cheng Sangyi’s silk sleeping robe so soft, so delicate. Her palm pressed against it before gently tugging it aside, revealing flawless skin.

She studied the sight before her, taking in every detail.

Her impression of Empress Cheng Sangyi had always come from the consort’s words cold, ruthless, inscrutable.

But on one point, the consort had been wrong.

Cheng Sangyi’s body was so, so soft.

The queen kissed her collarbone, sucking lightly.

The empress overslept, waking only at dusk. As she stirred, she realized her entire body felt weak.

Pushing herself up, the embroidered quilt slipped away, exposing her bare neck. Where was her sleeping robe?

Fragments of last night’s dream rushed back. She glanced around nothing seemed amiss.

A dream?

But this dream felt too real so real that her entire body ached, as if crushed beneath wagon wheels, leaving her discomfort everywhere.

Sleep paralysis?

Cheng Sangyi’s chest heaved violently as she pressed her palms to her forehead, the memories flooding in relentlessly.

She had dreamed of someone stroking her silky long hair, trailing down her neck, then kissing her body.

Her throat even felt sore, slightly hoarse.

Whose memories were these?

Since her rebirth, she hadn’t dreamed at all. Were these her own memories, or remnants from her past life?

No, in her past life, she had never been intimate with anyone.

It was just a dream!

Once convinced of this, Cheng Sangyi fumbled for her sleeping robe, dressed herself, and ordered the palace maids, “Prepare a bath.”

“Has Your Majesty caught a chill?” The observant lady-in-waiting noticed the hoarseness in the emperor’s voice, as if her throat had been strained by illness.

Cheng Sangyi shook her head, offering no reply.

Unbeknownst to the attendant, beneath the embroidered quilt, the empress’s legs trembled faintly.

After dismissing the maids, Cheng Sangyi stepped into the water. As her warm hands glided over her neck, for some reason, they drifted to her waist.

Last night, in the dream, that person’s hands had lingered there, refusing to leave.

Shame exploded within her.

Covering her face with her hands, she struggled to erase the maddening dream from her mind.

She had dreamed and of such an indecent fantasy, no less.

Her body shimmered faintly beneath the water. She glanced down at her slender, straight legs, shifting slightly and sending ripples across the surface.

Forget it. All of it.

Cheng Sangyi was a woman of two lifetimes, her will unshakable. After a moment in the water, her emotions steadied, and when she opened her eyes again, they were clear and composed.

She was Cheng Sangyi, a phoenix reborn, carrying vengeance in her heart. How could she be disturbed by a mere dream?

Emerging from the bath, she wrapped herself in fresh silk, took a deep breath, and strode out with calm dignity.

On the seventh day of the month, the young empress arrived at the warm pavilion as promised.

Inside, a woman in vibrant peach-colored palace robes awaited her. With a delicate oval face and willow-leaf eyebrows, her beauty was heartbreakingly tender.

The woman curtsied to the empress. “This humble consort, Zhang Zheng, greets Her Majesty the Empress.”

“This is Lady Mo,” the Noble Consort introduced. “Her rank is too low to have attended your formal audience, so she’s come today instead.”

Lady Mo smiled sweetly at the empress. “They say Your Majesty is the most beautiful woman in the capital. Seeing you today, the rumors don’t do you justice.”

The empress ignored her and took her usual seat.

The other five consorts settled in one by one as maids served tea and pastries.

The empress was distracted, preoccupied with a single thought: Should she visit the emperor tonight?

Before she could decide, Lady Mo eagerly announced, “His Majesty fell ill yesterday. They say he slept the entire day and woke with a hoarse voice.”

“How do you know such details?” The empress was stunned was this woman following Cheng Sangyi around?

Lady Mo waved a hand dismissively. “Naturally, I bribed one of the maids attending His Majesty. After the recent purge of servants, the replacements are easily bought off. And after waking, he went straight to bathe. Who bathes with a chill? Won’t that worsen the illness?”

The empress lowered her head, silent.

The Noble Consort gasped. “Could there be a hidden beauty in the palace? Did His Majesty bring back his long-lost love and hide her in his chambers?”

Apart from the empress, the others stiffened in shock. Lady Mo even leaped to her feet in excitement. “Th-this, this.”

She stammered for a while, her little face flushed red, completely devoid of the pitiable appearance from earlier now tinged with a hint of jealousy.

“Your Majesty is breaking the rules.”

The young empress still refused to speak, raising her hand to touch the corner of her lips.

Kisses were addictive, she wanted another one.

What should she do?

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