The Female Alpha Consort Mistakenly Marks the Empress - TFACMME Chapter 32

The dusk was like melted amber, wrapping around entangled gasps. The golden crow sank into wisps of cloud, burning the western sky into a flush like rising desire.

After several rounds, the two of them finally regained their senses. Qi Yingzhu finally got off her. Her clothes were soaked, almost unpresentable.

Her jade-like face was flushed red. Her delicate features seemed to soften even more, as if soaked in water, becoming increasingly tender and lovely.

She blushed as she adjusted her clothing, unwilling to lift her eyes to look at Mu Lanshi—who would’ve thought someone so proper and noble would dare do such things to her?

And more than once!

Still catching her breath, she looked up at Mu Lanshi, only to find she had already been staring at her.

A pair of clear phoenix eyes glanced her way.

The ends of her eyes tilted sharply, strikingly beautiful, yet in the depths of those dark pupils still lingered the haze of arousal.

Lower down, her hand hovered mid-air.

Her slender, strong fingers glowed with gold under the sunlight.

From the wet heat earlier, a string of liquid clung to her fingertips, forming beads of water.

…These droplets were already ambiguous and obscene enough, but Mu Lanshi acted as if she didn’t notice at all. She didn’t wipe away the threads of fluid, only stared straight at her, making her heart itch even more.

“You’d better wipe that off,” Qi Yingzhu said urgently.

But just as she said that, Mu Lanshi suddenly moved. Qi Yingzhu thought she’d finally realized how inappropriate this looked.

Instead, Mu Lanshi did something even more outrageous.

She put the damp fingers directly into her mouth.

She didn’t wipe them off with anything else.

She even looked like she was enjoying it—reverent, as if savoring the finest delicacy in the world.

The upright and proper noble daughter, standing tall by the window, her robe half undone, exposing her graceful collarbone.

“Can’t you just wipe it off?” Qi Yingzhu couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, she grabbed a silk handkerchief from the table and threw it over. She couldn’t bear to watch another second.

Only then did Mu Lanshi slowly lift her head and remove her fingers from her mouth.

Her saliva formed shimmering threads, mixing with the previous liquid into a mess.

Qi Yingzhu’s face turned crimson. Even the glowing red sky to the west couldn’t match her current color.

“What nonsense,” Mu Lanshi laughed lightly, her tone bright and casual. “Didn’t Lanshi once say—Your Majesty’s snow skin is wrapped around a honey core? Of course it’s sweet.”

Qi Yingzhu felt a twitch in her forehead.

There was no helping it. This world was unfair. She felt it again. After all, she had once bonded with this alpha.

In the air lingered her strong orchid-sandalwood scent—not an aggressive fragrance, but rich and pleasant. The royal family even used it to make “Nine Harmony” incense. The nobler one’s status, the more one could afford.

In other words, no matter how much this scoundrel used her scent, no one would notice anything strange.

That was a top-tier alpha for you.

A top-tier alpha raised on elite family bloodlines and countless rare pills.

Qi Yingzhu suddenly grew even angrier. She marched up in a few strides and seized that elegant hand, glaring up at her viciously. “Mu Lanshi!”

Mu Lanshi didn’t expect Qi Yingzhu to approach so assertively and even grab her wrist, so she looked at her in confusion and asked, “What is it?”

They were standing very close—close enough to see the fine hairs on each other’s faces.

And the marks hidden beneath their collars, left from their recent kisses.

“You, you listen to me,” Qi Yingzhu swallowed but tried to maintain her momentum. “I told you not to lick. Don’t do it again…”

Mu Lanshi was tall and slender, making anything Qi Yingzhu said seem weak in comparison.

“You’re not just a scent-crazed hound—you’re like a bear…” she muttered under her breath, annoyed at how this got out of hand.

Mu Lanshi looked rather wronged. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Qi Yingzhu said fiercely, cheeks puffed in anger. “Next time—I’ll pin you down and make you call me ‘mate’ forever,” she said with certainty. Though she was looking up, she exuded full dominance.

She stood on tiptoe, trying to assert herself, only to fall into Mu Lanshi’s suddenly deepened gaze.

Mu Lanshi smiled instantly. She tilted her head and obediently bent down, just to look at her from below.

She spoke in a soft and teasing voice. “Mate.”

Mu Lanshi was indeed taller than her—but now she bent down, playfully, yet more as if yielding.

Qi Yingzhu still had one foot lifted on tiptoe, and Mu Lanshi bowed her head to meet her, creating an unmistakable contrast of height.

A woman like moonlight, lowering her head—only for her.

“You…” Qi Yingzhu’s momentum faltered. She couldn’t bring herself to scold her.

This calculated surrender was infuriatingly effective.

So she slowly lowered her tiptoe.

But she still suspected she was too easily tricked, so she pursed her lips and said, “Calling me mate now is useless. I changed my mind.”

Mu Lanshi looked disappointed and straightened up. “Why is it useless? What did you change your mind about?”

Qi Yingzhu said slowly, “Remember that shadow guard thing? I take it back.”

One shadow guard per one night.

Mu Lanshi feigned confusion. “Then what now—every fingerprint earns me one night of indulgence?”

“Tch. You’re not allowed to touch me,” Qi Yingzhu snapped. “Not even one night.”

This time, she really seemed angry.

Mu Lanshi thought for a moment, then tilted her head. “Alright, I won’t touch. But what if Your Majesty goes into heat?” As she spoke, she leaned down and kissed her still-flushed ear. “After all, Your Majesty’s heat cycle isn’t like ordinary omegas.”

The warm breath tickled her ear, leaving a shivering sensation.

…Indeed, her first heat cycle was approaching again.

At a time like this, forbidding her from touching her would only make things harder for Qi Yingzhu.

So annoying. The problem with double scent bonds was that it created more and more craving for the bonded alpha.

Ordinary suppressants couldn’t ease the ache. In her past life, she had only been with Mu Lanshi once, and she endured the rest in pain.

But now they’d marked each other twice. One more time, and she’d truly be unable to let go.

Qi Yingzhu calmed down, though she was still furious inside.

“That’s different,” she huffed. “That was agreed from the start. It’s not the same as the shadow guard.”

Mu Lanshi still hovered by her ear, laughing softly, her breath warm. “It is different.”

Then she slowly, deliberately said, “Because Your Majesty is also different in Lanshi’s heart.”

A familiar feeling stirred in Qi Yingzhu’s mind.

She had such a sweet mouth. Hmph. But she didn’t dare praise her now—what if that sweetness came from what she just drank?

Terrifying thought.

So Qi Yingzhu pushed her away in mock anger and said, “If you were the same as everyone else, that’d be unforgivable!”

Hmph. At least she had a conscience and knew who was truly unique.

“Let’s go. We should head out.”

***

At the moment the door opened, iron horse chimes shattered the rainy haze. The March rain hung like threads tossed by a spinner, wrapping around the newly sprouted ferns on the stone path, staining the teahouse’s dark tiles with ink-like washes.

They were startled by the sudden downpour. Realizing the situation, they returned to ask the shopkeeper for an umbrella.

The shopkeeper recognized the young lady of the house and respectfully handed over an umbrella, then asked Mu Lanshi, “Young Lady, did you find today’s pastries to your liking?”

Mu Lanshi accepted the 24-rib bamboo umbrella, its surface painted with a cherry-blossom-holding sparrow.

The shopkeeper looked a bit embarrassed—business had been good lately, especially with a view from the second floor. That couple’s loud quarrels had drawn attention, and everyone wanted a good seat to watch the drama.

So business thrived. Still, she hadn’t expected to serve their young miss today.

“They were lovely,” Mu Lanshi said in her usual mild tone, sounding perfectly content. “Not only the pastries—the juices were delicious too.”

The shopkeeper gave a knowing smile.

She didn’t know that beneath those refined robes, the noble lady was gently prying apart the fingers of the hooded girl beside her.

Her fingertips subtly brushed Qi Yingzhu’s palm inside her sleeve—that wrist slightly cool from the rain. As they passed over her skin, it felt like charcoal tracing warmth, the word “delicious” written in tingling strokes.

After leaving the teahouse, the oil-paper umbrella above them opened with a soft “pop,” instantly enclosing them in a small, damp world. Qi Yingzhu stared at the sliver of light leaking from the seam between the umbrella ribs, when she suddenly felt her fingertips wrapped in warmth. Mu Lanshi’s defined fingers pressed gently against hers, like a spring stream flowing over river stones.

Qi Yingzhu was still angry about what had happened earlier—how she had grabbed her hand and written in her palm.

Of course, maybe it wasn’t just that. There were plenty of things that had upset her today.

Raindrops brushed across their faces.

“Let go!” Qi Yingzhu suddenly snapped, angry.

“Not even one little hand-hold?” Mu Lanshi turned her head quickly, phoenix eyes curving.

Qi Yingzhu instinctively protested. “No. I don’t want to hold your hand.”

She jerked her wrist free, embroidered shoes splashing into a puddle. Wind mixed with rain swept past her neck, sending a chill through her. In the next second, she was pulled into the embrace filled with orchid-sandalwood scent.

Mu Lanshi took the chance to firmly grasp Qi Yingzhu’s hand, tilting the umbrella toward her head, not caring that one side of her own shoulder was already wet from the rain.

This time, her tone took on an unyielding seriousness. “If you don’t get closer, the umbrella won’t cover you.”

So that was why.

Hmph. Still angry. Didn’t feel like talking to her.

But… holding hands was fine. At least she wouldn’t get rained on.

After a moment of silence, Qi Yingzhu couldn’t help but speak. “Then why don’t you just let me hold the umbrella by myself?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it, but she also felt Mu Lanshi had taken advantage of her so much today—what was wrong with saying a few words?

Just moving her lips, that’s all.

But she still wanted to see how Mu Lanshi would respond—

The long fingers holding the umbrella suddenly paused. Mu Lanshi turned her head to glance at Qi Yingzhu, and the hand clasping hers suddenly tightened.

Qi Yingzhu’s heart skipped a beat. She thought she was about to say something, but instead, she heard Mu Lanshi sigh faintly.

“So that’s it. Mate doesn’t care if Lanshi gets soaked in the rain?”

“You wouldn’t really let yourself get rained on anyway,” she replied, puffing up in annoyance.

“Mhm, true. So that means mate couldn’t bear to see Lanshi get wet.”

Tch, all her own interpretation.

“With an umbrella this big, what’s there to get soaked by!” she still grumbled, not realizing her voice had softened.

No presence.

She had actually seen it earlier—the half-soaked spring robe of Mu Lanshi when she held the umbrella for her.

Before her words were finished, Mu Lanshi suddenly stopped walking. The umbrella tilted slightly, letting in a few rays of light that traced the curve of her brow. “Can mate smell the fragrance of freshly roasted Longjing?” Her fingertips lightly pointed to the swaying banner of a distant teahouse. “If we turn back now, we might still have time for a cup of pre-rain tea.”

Strange, why suddenly bring up tea?

Qi Yingzhu followed her gaze, but suddenly felt a tightness around her wrist. Under the cover of the umbrella, Mu Lanshi pressed her fingertip onto her own damp shoulder. “Or…” Her rain-damp lashes trembled slightly. “Why not let mate inspect it personally—how much of this spring robe must be soaked for the anger to subside?”

The rain thickened. Wet willow branches brushed the umbrella ribs, startling two oriole birds sheltering from the rain.

Qi Yingzhu turned away her burning face but did not pull back the hand that was being held—within the lines of her palm, it seemed traces of sweetness from what she had etched there earlier still lingered, slowly seeping into the skin.

Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. She was still angry!

***

An ambiguous mood lingered beneath the oil-paper umbrella.

The spring rain was endless, and passersby hurried by. The Qinglong Street they had just descended had seen a major scandal earlier. Wang Ru was likely worried that more people would gather and cause further trouble, so she summoned the guards to disperse the crowd.

She took away the rigidly fallen Qi Zhongxuan.

As the two of them walked side by side under the umbrella, they could still occasionally hear passersby say, “Hey, do you think that was true?” People were still talking about the big incident from earlier that afternoon.

“Who knows if it’s true or not? But if you ask me, if it were true, the Capital’s Prefect probably still wouldn’t admit it. That Northen Rong spy supposedly lived in the capital for seven or eight years. If they couldn’t catch the spy after all that time, do these officials still want their hats?”

“Yeah, forget it. Things like that aren’t for people like us to worry about. Let the emperor worry, let the noble families worry. Hey, the price of calming ointment seems to have gone up again this year…”

Laughter and chatter from the tourists shattered on the bluestone pavement. Mu Lanshi’s fingertips remained laced between Qi Yingzhu’s fingers. A thin layer of sweat rose between their palms, like snow not fully melted on early spring branches.

Suddenly, Mu Lanshi paused and tightened her fingers slightly, lowering her voice to ask Qi Yingzhu, “Is it over just like this?”

She asked softly, but it startled the sparrows hiding under the eaves—the birds fluttered across the surface of the water, breaking apart the reflections of peach blossoms in the pond.

The sweetness in her palm had not yet dissolved.

Qi Yingzhu suddenly froze, breath caught between her rain-damp lashes. She looked down and saw raindrops blooming in the moss-covered cracks between bricks.

She knew. What Mu Lanshi was really asking was whether her revenge—on those people, on the ones who wronged her in her past life—was truly over.

Was her revenge on Qi Zhongxuan, Xu Yuan, and Qi Nian really finished?

“The pair of thrushes by the eaves are still twining necks. How could you bear to let the rain end so soon?” Mu Lanshi’s voice was cold and deep, unlike the orchid-sandalwood fragrance that clung to her body.

For a moment, Qi Yingzhu was stunned.

She remembered the day Mu Lanshi asked without hesitation: “Right, so are you willing to take responsibility for me?”

A noble daughter of a powerful family would naturally cut out the root of trouble. Even more so in a second life.

She was a powerholder.

Qi Yingzhu knew that if Mu Lanshi were to handle this matter, those three and even the Qi clan in Jiangnan would be thoroughly dealt with.

But she wasn’t Mu Lanshi.

“Minister Mu is indeed Minister Mu.” Her voice became more composed, her smile somewhat helpless. Her lashes drooped, shedding some rain as she spoke slowly. “They’ve already received what they deserve. As for Qi Zhongxuan, needless to say, he won’t return to Jiangnan alive. As for Xu Yuan, after all that, the Xu and Qi clans are sure to be at odds. Her days won’t be peaceful. That’s the price of our collaboration.” Qi Yingzhu’s tone cooled. “As for Qi Nian, she was so frightened by their argument that day she developed an illness. Who knows what will happen in the future?”

Mu Lanshi listened silently, then said slowly, “Mate is truly merciful.”

Qi Yingzhu replied, “I don’t want someone else to be as rootless as I was. A woman adrift is chained down; a canary in a golden cage is still caged. If I send her into the palace, how am I different from those old tormentors inside?”

Revenge was fine, but not in that way. Perhaps Mu Lanshi was right—she was merciful.

Like in her past life, when she tended flowers. Even when they wilted, she still couldn’t help but place the fallen peonies back in the jewelry box.

Mu Lanshi’s lips curved slightly. “Good. That makes sense. If it were me, I might do the same—after all, they can’t stir up any real waves.”

Qi Yingzhu was dazed for a moment. She understood the implication: If someone truly posed a threat, Mu Lanshi would not leave them with any opening.

Yes.

She and Mu Lanshi were fundamentally different—she was a noble daughter raised in refinement, her character forged not just in scholarly virtue but sharpened with claws and barbs. And herself? She was only—

“By the way, are you taking me back to your home?” Qi Yingzhu suddenly asked.

Mu Lanshi gave a soft “mm,” and said, “Why? Don’t want to celebrate your independence at Lanshi’s home?”

As she spoke, a slightly cheeky smile crossed her face.

“Fine then, today this mate will spoil you a little,” Qi Yingzhu said, unable to resist deflating her pride, “Tomorrow I’ll go to the yamen and apply for formal separation.”

Wang Ru probably wouldn’t stop her—she might even help.

Mu Lanshi’s smile grew more gentle. “Then I’ll go inform them. It’ll be quicker.”

“Hmph. Who asked you to help?” Qi Yingzhu still snapped. “Or is it that the noble lady is just used to throwing her weight around?”

“Well, not quite. But for my mate’s sake, Lanshi is willing to throw her weight around once—disregard the family rules.” Mu Lanshi grinned.

Qi Yingzhu gave her a sideways glance, amused by her shamelessness. “Ridiculous.”

She scolded her, but the corners of her mouth were smiling, and her hand never let go.

***

Mu Yan was currently discussing something with his subordinates. He looked quite pleased, his face blooming with smug satisfaction.

He asked the steward, Zhao Li, “Have you delivered the item?”

Zhao Li replied, “Young Master, I’ve done everything as you instructed.”

Mu Yan clapped his hands and laughed. “Good, good, well done! By the way, I heard Lin Xiarun left. What’s up with her?”

Lin Xiarun was not a good person, but he had managed to lure her in with small benefits. She was of little real use, all bark and no bite, but if she could help bring down Mu Lanshi, then even pawns were worth using.

After all, the inner court needed some people to stir up trouble. But lately, Mu Yan had noticed she’d suddenly left, which he found odd.

Ma San was standing nearby—he had been helping Mu Yan with various things recently and had disguised himself completely.

Though he couldn’t get close to the core of Mu Yan’s schemes, he could still complete the tasks assigned by the young lady with ease.

He chimed in immediately, “Young Master, I heard the others say Lin Xiarun scolded that lazy servant girl, Jiajia, and was caught by the lady. That girl’s quite pretty and cried a bit, and the lady believed her. In the end, the lady flew into a rage and told Madam Lin to get out.”

This was the explanation he had prepared. As he spoke, he mentally praised the young lady’s foresight.

Mu Yan nodded and didn’t give the matter much thought. Lin Xiarun—useless. Whether she stayed or left didn’t matter. The sooner she was gone, the better.

He thought of opening another letter, then glanced at Ma San. Hmm, this guy was usable, but not too much.

He said, “I feel like having tea. It’s raining—bring some Longjing.”

This was clearly to send him away. Ma San bowed and, on his way out, noticed Mu Yan reaching for another envelope—with cinnabar seal and elegant moth pattern.

It’s settled! he thought, and went out to fetch tea for this troublesome young master.

As soon as Ma San left, Mu Yan couldn’t suppress his glee anymore. After opening the letter, his laughter became even louder.

Zhao Li asked, “Young Master, you seem very pleased?”

Mu Yan said, “The letter says next month’s Grain Rain Gathering will be hosted by Mu Lanshi. Fourth Uncle was furious when he heard.”

Zhao Li tried to guess why he was so happy.

Mu Yan explained, “That Fourth Uncle is just as stubborn as his mother. You’ve been steward long enough—you know the family gathering is always hosted by the family head. Mu Lanshi’s initiation banquet was already a special exception from my mother. Even then, the elders in the clan already had complaints. And now she wants to host the Grain Rain Gathering? The letter says clearly, Fourth Uncle is coming to deal with her.”

Fourth Uncle lived close to the capital and would arrive before anyone else. Perfect timing to take Mu Lanshi down a peg.

On the day of the gathering, who knew how many good shows there’d be!

Thinking of this, Mu Yan became even more unrestrained, laughter shaking from his chest.

***

Qi Yingzhu brushed her fingertips over the gold-inlaid door knocker shaped like a taotie beast and stepped inside.

Copper bells on the eaves scattered drifting willow fluff. Through her hood, she looked up at the five-tiered palace roof, where glazed tiles dripped with melted sunset. “You’re bringing me in like this—aren’t you afraid your brother will see us from the corridor?”

Mu Lanshi shook the rain from the umbrella. A plum blossom ink blot spread instantly across the bronze paving. “That fool is probably celebrating.”

So confident. Qi Yingzhu muttered under her breath, though she wasn’t worried. If Mu Lanshi said it like this, she clearly had it all figured out.

As they passed through the third moon gate, Qi Yingzhu caught a glimpse of the side courtyard, hidden by pines and cypresses: thirty-six Qinghai horses were chewing alfalfa under golden bridles, and beside the silver troughs knelt Kunlun slaves with double-bun hairstyles.

Strange, it was strange because suddenly a deep ox bellow pierced through the bamboo shadows.

Qi Yingzhu asked Mu Lanshi in confusion, “Where is that ox sound coming from?”

But before Mu Lanshi could reply, Qi Yingzhu had already realized something.

Memory surged like a spring flood—the last time she was in the carriage with Mu Lanshi, she had said something coy, teasing that Mu Lanshi must want to spend more time with her, why else would she drive the carriage herself?

At the time, Mu Lanshi had tapped her fan on the table and told that Ah Chen person to go to the West Market and get an ox.

Thinking of this, her face and the tips of her ears instantly burned. She took two quick steps forward and kicked a pebble. Just as Mu Lanshi was about to speak, she mumbled for her to shut up: “Who asked you…”

Mu Lanshi’s lips clearly twitched.

Tsk tsk tsk. Truly, she had a little ancestor living beside her.

***

Qi Yingzhu still didn’t cause trouble for Mu Lanshi. After arriving at her hill garden, she stayed quietly in the bedroom and waited until nightfall.

After settling her down, Mu Lanshi said she had something to attend to and went out.

She had received a secret report from her subordinates: today, Mu Yan had indeed opened the letter. Even though Ma San was present at the time, he still couldn’t stop grinning.

Mu Lanshi listened to Ah Chen’s report, and a knowing smile appeared on her face. “He was really that happy, laughing until he coughed up saliva?”

Her fingertips brushed over a gold-inlaid silver dagger—this item was also a family heirloom. The one who held it could execute anyone who defied the family head’s authority. It was even more absolute than the emperor’s “imperial sword.”

Disgusting. How did a noble family raise someone like this?

Ah Chen nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

That letter with the fine moth pattern stamped in cinnabar on one corner had been written by Mu Lanshi herself. She had intercepted the letter that Fourth Uncle sent.

Not long ago, she had deliberately spread word that the April Grain Rain Spring Outing would be hosted by her. According to long-standing custom, this event was a major family affair. No matter the age of the family head, in principle it should be presided over by them.

There were exceptions, of course.

But those old relics in the clan simply refused to obey her. Fine then, if they wouldn’t yield, she would break their stubborn spines one by one, until they all bowed their heads to her.

This Fourth Uncle, Mu Chengfeng, was no good either. He was rigid and outdated. His whole family had voiced strong objections when her mother took the family head position. Back then, they had even used underhanded tricks to fight for it. But considering Mu Chengfeng’s mother had died and his father was old and quiet now, Mu Mei had chosen not to pursue it.

But not being held accountable didn’t mean they would be grateful. Mu Lanshi tapped the dagger lightly against her palm again.

The sound of metal striking metal overlapped with a memory from her past life—in that year of torrential rain, her mother Mu Mei knelt before the ancestral tablets, her hair soaked through by cold rain. Behind the lacquered screen, Mu Chengfeng and his son stood holding celadon ear cups filled with poisoned wine, smiling like two tomb guardians corroded by moss.

Tsk. Might as well kill them all.

“These ungrateful wretches,” Mu Lanshi sneered coldly, “they deserve to have their hearts gouged out and bones scraped clean, served in their beloved celadon ear cups, and displayed on the flowing wine banquet table at the Grain Rain feast, for all to see.”

Ah Chen was terrified, not even daring to lift her eyes.

This was the aura of someone long accustomed to power.

When she returned after finishing everything, only a single lamp lit the room like a bean flame.

Qi Yingzhu had already washed up and gone to bed.

This was probably the first time they shared a bed again since that night.

When Mu Lanshi lifted the brocade quilt, Qi Yingzhu peeked out with round eyes. Under the dim candlelight, she looked even more like a rabbit.

“So late to come back and accompany your mate—what crime is that?” Her muffled voice came from under the bedding.

Mu Lanshi laughed and coaxed her, “Then Lanshi should spend the whole night making up for it.”

Qi Yingzhu puffed out her cheeks and shrank deeper under the covers. “Who wants your whole night. Don’t touch me. We agreed today.”

“If mate doesn’t want Lanshi, then Lanshi will leave.” Mu Lanshi sighed and really started to get up.

From under the quilt came a soft murmur: “Mate is angry. Aren’t you going to coax her first before leaving?”

That clearly meant she didn’t want her to go.

Mu Lanshi lowered her head, smiling, and sat back down at the edge of the bed. “Alright, alright, mate, don’t be angry.”

Her voice was gentle and warm, completely different from the icy rain and frosty lashes she had worn under the moonlight earlier.

Qi Yingzhu let out a “hmph” but shifted toward the inside of the bed—she was making room for her.

“I’m going to sleep now.” Her voice was still puffed with annoyance.

Mu Lanshi stifled a laugh, but had no choice but to comply with her little ancestor. She leaned in and asked, “Still angry? Sleeping with anger isn’t good. Let me coax you a bit before you sleep.”

Where had she learned such sweet talk? Qi Yingzhu knew if she kept thinking about the answer, she’d only get jealous again, so she buried her head under the quilt and stopped thinking.

“Don’t want you to coax me. Don’t want you to touch me either,” she added, “Tonight.”

“But what if Lanshi’s heat period comes again?”

“Wait until it really comes. Then we’ll see if you get special permission.”

Mu Lanshi laughed and pulled the quilt open, slipping under it.

The night was quiet. Spring rain streamed over the time-worn glazed tiles, flowing into the ridges and forming bead curtains that dropped onto the newly planted spotted bamboo before the steps.

Mu Lanshi truly kept her promise, not even letting her fingertips cross the line.

But that sleeping rabbit didn’t hold back. She rolled over into her arms, clinging to her waist like a vine. Her scent filled the air, making Mu Lanshi’s heart soften.

She sighed quietly, then held the person in her arms even tighter. Outside, the spring rain slowly thinned, wetting the peachwood bow hanging under the eaves, and soaking the long, lingering night.

***

TL/Note:

https://www.pekoetea.co.uk/blogs/blog/a-guide-to-pre-rain-and-first-flush-teas?srsltid=AfmBOoqAdCSh7tmcn0MP6EySV9_OxwRAQXmR4SSltAWz2Kkg0SGkBm1J

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Datong_horse