Leaving the Changmen Palace - LTCP 47: Pleasure

Chen Jiao felt as if she were tied with a rope around her waist.

Dazed, she raised her hips, chasing the desire that blossomed before her like a spark.

She became irritated, she listened to the ambiguous sound of the water, she looked at Liu Che’s bare chest, she tasted her own taste and his, and God, she tasted, she tasted the infinite taste all over her body.

Liu Che seemed to be everywhere, concentrating only on reaching the point that drove her mad most.

She listened, she listened to the heavy breathing. She couldn’t tell if it was her own voice or someone else’s. She had never known that her voice could be so gentle and charming, so nervous and helpless.

Her vision was blurred and her thoughts were jumbled, and then there was a bang in her head and she heard herself gasping, “A’Che, A’Che, come in, come in…”

She was unsure whether it was herself or the entity within her, yet such distinctions felt irrelevant—what difference could it possibly make? It simply did not matter.

Chen Jiao pondered with a quiet ache: when would this all come to an end? Yet, deep down, a part of her hesitated, reluctant to see it cease.

Never before had she lost control in this way, and the vulnerability left her trembling with fear.

“I can’t let go,” she whispered fiercely to herself. “If I do, I will lose everything.”

Desperately clinging to her composure, she reaffirmed her resolve: she must maintain control—she had to, because everything depended on it.

As Liu Che’s hand gently grazed her skin and his whispered words—“Jiaojiao, don’t be as tense as a bowstring”—resonated softly in her ear, a profound shift occurred within her.

The love, indulgence, and gentle reproach woven into his tone stirred emotions she could no longer contain. Her body, once a tranquil pond, now trembled beneath the scorching sun of his touch—his tender kisses and exploratory caresses tracing delicate paths across her form. His tentative pressure, the subtle pushing of his desire, revealed the soft, hidden depths beneath, while his firm grip and playful flicks exposed the tender, yielding beneath her surface.

Simultaneously, a rich, undeniable passion welled within her, flowing freely as Liu Che’s movements stirred a tumultuous, muddy tumult—an intimate chaos that reflected how swiftly he had unraveled her secrets, mastering the most intimate places on her body with mere hints, even uncovering places she herself had yet to discover.

He was, without a doubt, the most devoted and diligent student, and his fingers skillfully navigated her body, consistently moving in and out with a precise rhythm, following the exact trajectory of ‘inward, slightly to the left, and a little further in’, causing Chen Jiao to involuntarily arch up in response.

As she teetered on the edge of agony, a stray thought flashed through her mind: she was nothing more than a six-stringed zither, effortlessly manipulated by his skilled hands, her every note and rhythm at the mercy of his whims.

The sound of her own voice only seemed to exacerbate the situation, as it moaned softly into her ear, its fragmented whispers sending a blush rising to Chen Jiao’s cheeks.

She shifted uncomfortably, taken aback by the unbridled passion that seemed to be unfolding before her.

The woman’s wanton abandon was a shocking revelation, leaving her feeling ashamed and yet, inexplicably, even more aroused. It was as if Liu Che and the voice were conspiring to tease her, sending her heart racing with a potent mix of shyness and excitement that left her breathless and disbelieving.

She was her own worst tease, and only she knew exactly which buttons to press to send herself soaring to dizzying heights in an instant. It was as if she was being claimed by her own desires, with Liu Che joining in to fuel the fire that was rapidly consuming her.

She could almost feel an invisible, ethereal version of herself, ravishing her own body with reckless abandon. The sultry, confused moans that escaped her lips were like gentle caresses, roaming wildly across her skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. And yet, she was vaguely aware of this intoxicating reality, which only served to push her further beyond the point of no return.

All she could do was wrap her legs around Liu Che’s powerful waist, meeting his passion with her own fervent affection.

In a playful gesture, he pulled back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief as he asked, “What do you want, Jiaojiao?”

But Chen Jiao was already panting, teetering on the precipice of ecstasy, and everything was only just getting started.

Liu Che was still using just three fingers, gently kneading and rubbing, building the tension to a fever pitch. He was no innocent, shy virgin; he knew exactly which parts of her body would bring her the deepest, most profound pleasure.

At this point, she was beyond begging or fighting, her strength sapped by the all-consuming passion that had taken hold of her.

All she could manage was an urgent, breathless whisper, “A’Che, come in, now.”

As she uttered those words, her fingers brushed against his, sending shivers down Liu Che’s spine. The gentle chill of her touch ignited a fire within him, and he could hardly contain himself. But he chose to savor the moment, to prolong the anticipation.

He gazed at Chen Jiao, his eyes filled with a deep satisfaction, as if he was reveling in the triumph of claiming her.

He couldn’t help but be captivated by the sight of her slender, beautiful body, which twisted and turned beneath his gentle provocations. Her face, normally a picture of poise and restraint, was now flushed with desire, her eyes gleaming with an unbridled passion. She had shed the reserve of an empress, abandoning all inhibitions as she surrendered to her desires.

The way she bit her lip, her eyes locked onto his every move, was nothing short of mesmerizing.

What had unleashed this wild, unbridled side of Chen Jiao, Liu Che couldn’t quite fathom. If it was merely a rumor about the art of seduction, he couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets Wang Ji might have held, and whether he had missed out on a world of pleasure by not visiting her sooner.

This was the moment he’d finally broken down Chen Jiao’s defenses, holding her completely and utterly in his grasp, her naked vulnerability a testament to his unyielding passion.

Her usual confident and aloof demeanor had always been a mystery, a subtle reserve that even in their most intimate moments, she’d never fully surrendered. It was infuriating, yet mesmerizing, leaving him torn between the desire to unravel her secrets and the fear of pushing her away.

He yearned for more, for a deeper connection that went beyond the superficial, but he was unsure how to bridge the gap without compromising his own pride.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—as the empress of the Great Han, his first wife, and the woman he held in the highest esteem, what more could she possibly desire? And yet, as he gazed into her eyes, he began to grasp the elusive answer, a revelation that sparked a maelstrom of emotions, with spiritual fulfillment and carnal desire intertwining like fiery tendrils, threatening to consume him whole.

The sheer intensity of it all was almost too much to bear, his excitement simmering just below the surface, straining to be unleashed in a primal scream, but he restrained himself, maintaining a facade of calm, even as his inner world was set ablaze.

What if she held the throne as the Empress of the Great Han—would that have stopped him from claiming her as his own, from being the only one capable of conquering her?

The whispered question, “Who wants you?” sent shivers down Chen Jiao’s spine as his breath danced across her ear, his tone a mesmerizing blend of tension, sincerity, and playful teasing.

The response was swift, sharp, and laced with anger, a testament to the turmoil brewing within her.

She was already lost in the depths of her desire, her emotions in chaos. In this moment, she had truly vanquished the noble empress, taming the unpredictable passion that burned within her.

“Liu Che!” Chen Jiao’s voice rose to a desperate cry, “If you don’t come in, I’ll…”

But her words were cut short as Liu Che’s laughter erupted, his sudden movement causing her complaint to catch in her throat, transforming into a strangled sob.

…

She had never felt such utter exhaustion before.

After their passionate lovemaking, Liu Che would often drift off to sleep, while she’d lie there, her breathing slowed, yet her skin sticky with sweat, feeling greasy all over. Not wanting to disturb him, she’d stare blankly into space, patiently waiting for the afterglow of their intimacy to fade away.

Now, she truly understood the meaning of being tired—or maybe this was the first time she’d ever felt this drained.

Even the slightest movement from Liu Che, like the twitch of his little finger, would elicit a low, displeased moan from her, and in a haze, she’d murmur a complaint. But he quickly made amends, pulling her into a warm, sweaty embrace that enveloped her in the intoxicating scent of soapberry.

A vague smile spread across Chen Jiao’s face, and for once, she didn’t worry about whether her smile met some imaginary standard, or whether he would recognize her unique charm.

After such intense ecstasy, none of that mattered. In this moment, she felt an undeniable closeness to him, a connection that transcended words.

“It appears that I must regard Lady Wang with a new perspective and recognize her as an individual,” the following morning, as she awoke, she found herself lost in thought, having a silent conversation with her inner voice. “And it’s not just her—even someone like Wei Zifu can’t be underestimated anymore.”

It is a well-known fact that the skills exhibited in intimate settings are frequently regarded as taboo and are seldom discussed in formal discourse. However, it is undeniable that possessing a natural allure can significantly impact one’s circumstances.

It is not unusual for certain palace servants to gain the emperor’s favor, not solely due to their clever repartee or engaging personas, but rather because they have mastered the art of using their physicality to provide him with pleasure.

Chen Jiao never intended to belittle the art of seduction, yet she had never exhibited a strong desire to master it; after all, her pride was at stake.

Despite her enjoyment of intimacy with others, she found it difficult to lower herself to such tactics, even for the sake of her reputation. However, following the events of the previous night, the mere contemplation of it caused her cheeks to flush with embarrassment, and she could not escape the sensation that her inner voice was silently scrutinizing her.

“Had I not intervened, you likely would have remained unaware of such matters, regardless of your status as empress; it simply does not warrant the effort to learn.”

Although it felt a tinge of shyness and embarrassment, it skillfully concealed these emotions, projecting a tone of pride and confidence while maintaining an air of calm and composure.

“Had I not intervened, I question whether you would have ever genuinely regarded Wang Ji with the seriousness she deserves.”

Chen Jiao found herself at a loss for words, compelled to acknowledge her previous dismissiveness towards Wang Ji’s favor.

The palace girl, while not particularly striking in appearance and lacking literacy skills, raised the question of the value of her talents in singing and dancing. It seemed improbable that she could ever win Liu Che’s affection.

However, following the events of the previous night, Chen Jiao became acutely aware of her own limitations. Her inexperience had led her to underestimate the potential of intimacy to significantly influence one’s perspective.

The prospect of Liu Che eventually losing interest in her, leaving her palace as a mere echo of waning affection, was what genuinely unsettled her—rather than his infamous indulgence towards the concubine.

As she acquiesced to the unavoidable, a trace of bewilderment persisted, prompting her to bite her lip.

“It is not a negative development; I certainly wish to learn,” she articulated, her voice scarcely above a murmur.

But the real question was, who could she turn to for guidance?

The voice let out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, my dear child,” it remarked. “Had I not imparted my knowledge to you last night, do you truly believe that Liu Che’s mere handful of free-hand maneuvers could have stirred you to such a heightened state so quickly? Can you fathom how I came to understand that Chu Fu was a consummate expert in the art of intimacy?” Such a conclusive assessment stemmed solely from personal experience.

As they were all girls, it was only natural that if Chu Fu could achieve it, the voice would effortlessly replicate her success and reciprocate the instruction. Moreover, no other educator could comprehend her every vulnerability and hidden delight quite it did.

The realization ignited a rush of warmth across Chen Jiao’s cheeks, causing her to blush at the mere thought.

For what seemed like an eternity, she knelt in contemplation, eventually rising to her feet as the flush on her face faded, unnoticed.

“You have the ability to teach me how to embrace softness and experience pleasure more readily.” Her voice, unintentionally, regained its clarity, “However, are you aware of how to bring even greater happiness to A’Che?”

The moment she uttered those words, she recognized that she had underestimated the voice.

Predictably, the response was less than enthusiastic.

“Don’t forget, I was married too,” it said, tone stiff, yet laced with a hint of nostalgia, pride, and—Chen Jiao detected it now—a deep-seated love. “My husband’s name was Liu Che as well.”

Wang Ji’s favor lasted only another half month, after which Liu Che would often sneak away to Jiaofang Hall at every available opportunity.

Meanwhile, Chen Jiao’s presence became a regular fixture at Qingliang Hall, a recurring theme that seemed to echo through the halls.