Sharing a carriage, traveling on a rainy night.
The flickering shadows of lanterns outside the canopy drifted into the carriage, waxing and waning in layers.
Mu Wan Yao leaned against the carriage wall, eyes closed, paying no attention to Yan Shang. When she had boarded, Yan Shang had covered her legs with a blanket, and now he was bent over, adjusting the incense in the small burner on the table. Only when he had busied himself with every possible trivial task did he finally glance toward Mu Wan Yao.
Since boarding the carriage, she had ignored him, leaving him slightly disappointed. He had thought that since he came to pick her up, she would at least tease him with a few playful words or try to provoke him.
But seeing her sitting there with her eyes closed, Yan Shang felt a wave of tenderness, thinking she might be tired after her confrontation with Prince Jin and shouldn't be disturbed. Besides, Mu Wan Yao’s quiet, docile appearance was a rare sight. When her eyes were open and she leaned close, he had to brace himself to respond. But when she closed her eyes and pretended to be well-behaved, Yan Shang’s mind felt less muddled.
So he rested his elbow on the table and gazed at her intently. The shifting light from outside fell upon her, and he couldn’t help but study her secretly—the more he looked, the softer his eyes grew; the more he looked, the more his heart swelled with affection.
And his affection manifested as quietly watching her, a faint smile on his lips, without approaching to disturb her.
Mu Wan Yao suddenly spoke, “What are you looking at?”
Yan Shang started.
His eyelashes fluttered violently as he saw Mu Wan Yao, seated across from him, open her eyes and look his way. A mischievous, teasing smile played on her lips—precisely the kind of ambiguous expression that turned Yan Shang’s mind to mush.
He lowered his head, trying to sound composed, “Nothing.”
Mu Wan Yao: “I don’t believe you.”
Yan Shang: “Really… ahem, I was just thinking about something.”
Mu Wan Yao arched an eyebrow, leisurely propping her chin on her hand as she leaned forward to rest against the table. The table had a hidden mechanism that allowed it to rotate. As she leaned in, her face came within a hair’s breadth of his, their breaths mingling in the narrow space.
Yan Shang straightened imperceptibly, earning a raised eyebrow and a laugh from Mu Wan Yao. His face grew warm, but he pretended not to notice her teasing about his shyness, stubbornly grasping for an excuse: “I was thinking about composing poetry.”
Mu Wan Yao blinked in surprise, “What poetry?”
As soon as he said it, Yan Shang realized he might actually seize this opportunity to seek Mu Wan Yao’s advice. He had been visiting the Pleasure Quarter frequently to teach Chun Niang calligraphy and poetry. As Chun Niang’s progress steadily improved, his own meager talent for poetry began to feel inadequate.
Yan Shang frowned, “In official circles, during banquets, people often compose poetry for entertainment. Your Highness, when you host banquets for your ministers, do you compose poetry as well?”
Mu Wan Yao: “Of course. What’s so difficult about that? It comes naturally.”
Yan Shang: “…”
Why couldn’t it come naturally to him?
Why did he always have to prepare in advance?
A wave of discouragement washed over Yan Shang, and he fell silent. Moments later, he felt a gentle kick against his knee. He looked down and saw, in the dim light beneath the table, a delicate, fair, and exquisitely shaped foot pressing against his knee, rubbing softly.
Her beaded slippers lay discarded beneath the hem of her skirt.
At the sight of her foot, his face flushed crimson. He tried to shift his knee away, but the moment he moved, she pressed her leg between his. Instantly, blood rushed downward. Yan Shang’s face was no longer merely flushed—it was hot enough to boil an egg.
Heavens.
How could she do this… Yan Shang thought in a daze, torn between agony and exhilaration.He trembled all over, leaning against the wall as he looked at her. Yet her face remained smiling, as if she had no idea what she was doing.
Mu Wan Yao pressed down with the tip of her foot, watching as he threw his head back with a gasp, his hand gripping the edge of the desk. She glanced down and saw the veins on the back of his hand bulging and taut. A subtle smile curved her lips as she asked with feigned seriousness, "What's wrong? Can't you compose poetry?"
It took Yan Shang a moment before he managed to reply in a hoarse, trembling voice, "Yes... yes..."
Mu Wan Yao increased the pressure with her foot. He let out a choked sound and slumped forward onto the desk. His shoulders trembled for a while before he lifted his head to look at her, his eyes dark and the corners tinged with red. He reached out to pull her closer, his voice strained and soft, "Yao Yao..."
There was a note of pleading in his tone.
Mu Wan Yao sidestepped, avoiding his touch. She continued with an air of seriousness, "I'm asking you a question. Why are you spacing out? I'm genuinely concerned about your poetry skills, and all you can think about is vulgar matters. Second Brother Yan, you've changed."
Yan Shang gave a bitter smile.
He endured for a while, taking advantage of her momentary pause in mischief, before covering his wildly beating heart and answering in a raspy voice, "Do you think I'm lacking in talent? I see that you hardly read, yet every time you compose poetry, it's so well-written. Meanwhile, I always prepare in advance, but when it comes time to perform, my work is still mediocre."
Mu Wan Yao feigned surprise, "Oh? I thought you were deliberately aiming for mediocrity. I know you prefer blending into the crowd, not wanting to stand out."
Yan Shang's voice grew slightly agitated, unlike his usual calm and measured tone, "I would need the ability to fake mediocrity, wouldn't I? I am mediocre by nature... Your Highness, what am I doing wrong that I can't write good poetry?"
Mu Wan Yao studied him. His eyelashes were slightly damp, his shoulders trembling faintly with desire. Several times, he seemed about to reach out but restrained himself. Yet, at the same time, he was earnestly answering her question.
Clearly, his inability to write good poetry was a heavy blow to Yan Shang. Initially, he might have thought it was due to reading too little, but now, despite reading daily, receiving guidance from his teacher, and studying countless masterpieces, he still couldn't produce good poetry.
For someone with such high self-expectations, it was natural to question where he had gone wrong.
He wanted to be perfect.
Mu Wan Yao stopped joking and answered him seriously, "Your inability to write good poetry isn't because you haven't read enough or because you lack focus or effort. You've put in enough effort... Second Brother Yan, you simply cannot write good poetry. Don't hold out hope for it."
Yan Shang pursed his lips, a hint of unwillingness in his expression, "Why are you so certain I can't write it?"
Mu Wan Yao drawled slowly, "When it comes to writing poetry, there are only three factors: first, having tumultuous experiences that evoke genuine emotion; second, possessing bold imagination that wanders into the bizarre and fantastical; and third, having a sensitive heart that weeps at the falling of a flower. Which of these do you fit? Do you have a life complex enough to inspire profound reflections? Are you sensitive enough to lament the passing of spring or grieve over autumn? Or do you have such bold imagination that you can express it through poetry?"
She fixed her gaze on him, "You don't possess any of these."
Mu Wan Yao curved her lips slightly, "As for life experiences, perhaps in a few years, you might be able to write a truly timeless poem. But lamenting the seasons—I doubt you'll ever manage that in this lifetime, so don't count on it. And as for imagination, it's not that I'm criticizing you, Second Brother Yan, but with such barren imagination, you might as well give up on it.""You follow a pragmatic path, not one of bold, unrestrained thinking. Your imagination simply isn't up to par."
Yan Shang paused for a long moment before saying, "My imagination isn't that poor, is it?"
Mu Wan Yao thought to herself that someone with no imagination when it came to matters of the bed actually believed he wasn't lacking.
She remained silent, instead withdrawing her jade-like foot. Yan Shang's knees remained parted.
With the pressure suddenly gone, the pleasure vanished as well. The corners of his eyes were still flushed red as he lifted his gaze to stare blankly at her, feeling somewhat lost. He watched as she turned her shoulder slightly and opened the small window beside her, allowing some of the outside rain to sprinkle in.
The scorching atmosphere in the carriage was cooled by the refreshing rain. Yan Shang closed his eyes, leaning over the table as he let out a soft gasp.
Mu Wan Yao tapped her knuckles against the window frame. Yan Shang looked up to see her gesturing for him to observe the rain outside. "What would you compare the rain to?" she asked.
Yan Shang stumbled, forcing himself to answer: "Like... like a curtain?"
Mu Wan Yao chuckled derisively. "You only say that because others have made such comparisons before. You have no original thoughts of your own."
Yan Shang stared at her blankly. "Then how would you compare it?"
Mu Wan Yao: "Hmm... like flight, like the Milky Way scattering stars, like defying the current to seize the heavens, like... Second Brother Yan's strands of hair."
Yan Shang was stunned. Mu Wan Yao blinked at him. Her hand moved stealthily beneath them, twisting a mechanism that caused the table to rotate sideways. Yan Shang had to sit upright, no longer leaning against the table. He felt embarrassed—once sitting properly, his physical reaction became impossible to conceal...
He glanced down uncomfortably, then looked anxiously at Mu Wan Yao. However, she seemed not to notice as she pushed the table aside and bent over to approach him.
Yan Shang shifted aside to make room for her, but she pressed on his shoulder and knelt on his lap. He trembled, causing her to slip off his legs before she could steady herself.
Mu Wan Yao complained discontentedly, "Second Brother Yan, help me!"
Yan Shang sighed and had no choice but to wrap his arms around her slender waist, helping her kneel in his embrace. Her kneeling posture made her much taller than him, and she cupped his face, tilting it upward.
Mu Wan Yao's fingers were warm and delicate as they caressed his face.
Her pale, soft fingers traced his brows, eyes, nose, and lips: "Your brows linger like spring light, winding their way into my heart; your eyes are like clear lakes under moonlight, making my heart rejoice as if gazing into a mirror; your nose is like an autumn blade, slaying me without blinking; your lips are soft, like fruit pulp, making me want to kiss them."
Yan Shang stared up at her in a daze.
The golden light from outside reflected in his eyes, where a tiny version of her shimmered within the starry river.
His arms tightened around her waist. Mu Wan Yao saw his Adam's apple bob, a flush spreading beneath his fair skin. He leaned in to kiss her, but she pressed a finger against his lips.
Mu Wan Yao tilted her head with a playful smile, gazing at him coquettishly. "Was my comparison good?"
Yan Shang: "Mm."
Mu Wan Yao pouted. "You're being so perfunctory.""
Yan Shang was at a loss for words, his chest swelling with emotion. He pulled her slender fingers away and tried to lift his head to kiss her, but she laughed and refused, leaning back. Yet, with his arms encircling her waist, she couldn't escape. Yan Shang's lips landed on her neck instead, causing her to shiver lightly.
Mu Wan Yao looked down at his somewhat bewildered expression.
Shyly, she whispered, "You can continue lower."
Yan Shang looked up at her, his gaze moist, his eyelashes fluttering like feathers.Mu Wan Yao raised her hand to touch the space between her brows and said, "Meng Zaishi kissed me here today."
Yan Shang's expression stiffened for a moment as he grasped her hand. Mu Wan Yao glanced at him: "You can kiss from here all the way down to my heart. It's all yours."
Under normal circumstances, he would hesitate, but he had already been stirred up by her earlier teasing and was feeling quite unsettled. Moreover, her sudden mention of Meng Zaishi deepened the discomfort he had felt that morning. With her pointing at her brow—this lovely girl he adored kneeling in his embrace—Yan Shang couldn't resist.
He pulled her neck down and kissed her forehead. Holding her small, soft body, which felt like a kitten in his arms, Yan Shang kissed her eyebrows and eyes, his touches delicate and dense as rain, moving downward.
He grew increasingly fervent, his caresses becoming less restrained. His fingers trembled at her waist, his breath returning to her neck, nuzzling and rubbing with slight unease.
Mu Wan Yao lowered her gaze, her hand resting on her neck, parting the silk gauze like flowing water.
Moonlight bathed the high mountains, the white snow gleaming brilliantly, radiant and breathtakingly beautiful. What could a climber do but worship in reverence?
She closed her eyes, covering her heart, and whispered, "Kiss me here."
Yan Shang bent his head, his forehead pressed against her chest: "Yao Yao..."
Mu Wan Yao: "Hmm?"
Yan Shang: "I... I..."
His breath was ragged, his voice chaotic. His entire state was dazed, yet his eyes burned too brightly—the heat and restlessness were all too familiar to him. He knew exactly what this feeling was. He was merely embarrassed, merely ashamed. Merely aware that they were in a carriage, that they would soon return...
But in a pitiful, humble tone: "I feel so awful..."
Mu Wan Yao suppressed a laugh: "Don't hold back. It's not like I'm unwilling."
Yan Shang: "But... but..."
He couldn't articulate his "but," and compared to his hesitation, his lady was always bolder and more open. She tugged open his sash, stepped back to the floor, and this time, settled onto his lap. Leaning down playfully, he both wanted to stop her and didn't. His body tensed, torn between fear and excitement.
This was how it always went—she repeatedly lowered that line for him. He was a complete blank slate, often feeling this was improper, that was wrong, yet he couldn't explain why it was improper. Quoting sages' teachings, Mu Wan Yao wouldn't listen and even found him tedious.
Yan Shang hunched over, resting his chin on her shoulder, and let out a muffled sigh. As if burning on a pyre, his grip on her waist was so tight it hurt Mu Wan Yao a little, but she endured it, afraid to speak up. Worried that if she did, he would snap back to awareness and refuse to continue like this.
She held his shoulders, her gaze soft as water, and leaned down to kiss the sweat on his forehead.
Yan Shang began to worry again, grasping her wrist: "You... you..."
Mu Wan Yao said gently, "What's wrong? Don't be afraid, no one will know. It's just the two of us here—relax a little. As long as we don't make noise, no one would dare check inside the princess's carriage, right? At this point, you can't hold back any longer."
He was so tense his face had stiffened. Mu Wan Yao leaned in to kiss him, even his sweat feeling endearing to her.
Yan Shang: "No, you... you... when is your menstrual blood due?"
Mu Wan Yao was stunned.
Even someone like her was bewildered by his inexplicable question.She kissed his neck and asked, "Why are you asking this?"
Yan Shang gasped, "Chun Niang said... we can't do it before or after Menstrual Blood..."
Mu Wan Yao paused, "Who is Chun Niang?"
Her tone turned slightly cold, but he was too lost in their passion to notice. He grasped her hand, gazing at her dazedly, "I taught her how to read... What's wrong?"
Mu Wan Yao: "Did you sleep with her?"
Yan Shang was taken aback, "How could I?"
Pressing against her, he whispered softly, "You know... you're the only one for me... Yao Yao, don't torment me..."
Mu Wan Yao's heart instantly softened.
She thought she would have Fang Tong investigate later—men's words weren't always truthful. But for now, she still trusted Yan Shang. Besides, the way he was nuzzling against her made her smile again. She lowered her head to kiss him for a while and said, "So the reason you haven't come to see me for so long is because you're worried I might get pregnant. I was wondering—you're so young, how could you not crave more after tasting the sweetness? How could you have no desire or longing at all? I thought you were truly a virtuous gentleman."
Yan Shang looked at her.
She kissed him, grinning, "Do you know? You made me doubt my charm."
Yan Shang murmured shyly, "I do think about it... but..."
After a moment, he said dejectedly, "I shouldn't have done that with you back then."
If he hadn't made that mistake with her, he wouldn't be constantly thinking about it now, driven to this state. He knew it was wrong, yet he still wanted it.
Mu Wan Yao was displeased, "Are you blaming your lack of willpower, or are you blaming me for seducing you into corruption?"
As he was about to speak, Mu Wan Yao, afraid he would ruin the mood again, covered his mouth, "Alright, let's not talk about that anymore. Don't worry about such trivial matters. I can drink Child Aversion Soup for you—don't fret over it."
Yan Shang pursed his lips, "I can't let you drink Child Aversion Soup. It's bad for your health."
Mu Wan Yao wondered how he suddenly knew about that.
She made a mental note—it probably had something to do with that Chun Niang he mentioned. Mu Wan Yao had already guessed that Yan Shang must have learned about such matters from a courtesan; otherwise, he wouldn't know how harmful it was to women... but she would need Fang Tong to confirm it later.
Given Mu Wan Yao's usual temper, she would have confronted Yan Shang on the spot. But now, she felt she hadn't been good enough to him and didn't want to argue, only to compensate him doubly.
So Mu Wan Yao said, "It's fine. Just once in a while won't get me pregnant. Don't you trust me?"
He was still inexperienced and, guided by her, eventually gave in. Though ashamed, he indulged in this recklessness with her. Only, he was terrified of being overheard, so he covered her mouth, not daring to let her make a sound. He didn't dare to move too forcefully... torn between restraint and pleasure.
The thrill of hiding in a narrow, dark corner, breaking taboos, excited them both.
Not to mention Yan Shang, even Mu Wan Yao, like a cat, trembled and clung to his shoulder, nearly in tears.
But halfway through, she suddenly stirred up trouble again and stopped. Yan Shang was going mad with frustration and pulled her waist to press her down. Mu Wan Yao quickly said, "Don't move, don't move—I just want to ask you a question."
He grumbled, "Do you have to ask now?"
Mu Wan Yao: "After the Military Exercise, you should have been promoted. Has the Secretariat made any arrangements for you?"Yan Shang answered vaguely, "I'm not sure, but my teacher said I'll probably be transferred away from the Secretariat to one of the Six Ministries... Why do you ask?"
Mu Wan Yao now had a clearer idea and said, "If I also request an official position for you before the Emperor, to ensure you get a better promotion this time, would you feel insulted and blame me for meddling?"
He struggled to compose himself, pondering the meaning behind her words.
Yan Shang whispered, "I wouldn't blame you... but why would you help me secure an official position? Didn't I say it wasn't necessary?"
Mu Wan Yao felt relieved and laughed, "I'm rewarding you."
Yan Shang was confused, "Rewarding me for what?"
Mu Wan Yao replied, "For letting me sleep with you."
Yan Shang paused for a long moment before saying, "...So that's it."
Mu Wan Yao teased, "Are you unhappy? See, you just said you weren't upset."
Yan Shang sighed and said, "Don't do this again in the future. I don't want it to be like this."
Mu Wan Yao asked, "Hmm?"
He couldn't help but tense up slightly again, and after she let out a soft gasp, he couldn't resist kissing her. Mumbling against her lips, he said, "One night of intimacy, one promotion. Isn't that too good a deal? If you're really serious, why not... after eight or ten times, make me the Imperial Son-in-Law?"
Mu Wan Yao widened her eyes, "What did you say?!"
His face flushed, and he retorted stubbornly, "The Imperial Son-in-Law! Why are you laughing at me... Can't I ask for a proper status?"
Mu Wan Yao quickly assured him that he could, but the timing wasn't right yet... Amidst the flurry of reassurances, she caressed and comforted him, urging him not to worry about such matters.
Rain pattered heavily against the carriage doors and windows, while the spring scenery outside remained vibrant—
Traveling on a rainy night was slower than usual, and with the city gates closed, presenting identification tokens at each checkpoint delayed their return to the residence more than usual.
Fang Tong and the other guards rode on horseback behind the carriage. In the dark alley entrance, Fang Tong spotted a young man standing there.
Fang Tong immediately grew alert and drew his sword, "Who's there?"
Yang Si, who had been sheltering from the rain under the outer wall of the Princess Residence, lifted his head lazily, "It's me."
Recognizing Yang Sanlang, Fang Tong sheathed his sword, and the guards dismounted to pay their respects. As Yang Si moved toward the princess's carriage, Fang Tong looked uneasy and reached out to block him. But Yang Si, with his exceptional skills, exchanged only two moves with him before slipping past the guards and reaching the carriage.
Yang Si knocked on the carriage door, "Yao Yao."
After a moment, Mu Wan Yao's displeased voice came from inside, "Didn't Fang Tong stop you?"
Yang Si asked, "Aren't you going to let me in to talk?"
Mu Wan Yao snapped, "It's not convenient! If you dare step inside, I'll turn against you immediately!"
Yang Si raised an eyebrow.
He hadn't thought much of it before, but her reaction piqued his interest. Raindrops fell on Yang Sanlang's face and clothes as he chuckled mockingly, "Who are you sneaking around with that you're so afraid I'll catch you?"
Mu Wan Yao's voice tightened, "None of your business!"
Yang Si shrugged and said, "Yao Yao, I'm leaving Chang'an."
After a long pause, Mu Wan Yao asked softly, "Is that so? When? Did the Crown Prince agree?"
Yang Si grinned, "I knew you'd understand. No need for me to explain the reasons. Here's the thing—I'm inviting you to join me at Ci'en Temple to watch the opera. Will you come?"
Mu Wan Yao replied, "Fine. Just give me a time."
They conversed for a while through the carriage, and when it was time to part, Yang Si couldn't resist asking again, "Really not going to let me in?"
Mu Wan Yao, flustered and angry, snapped, "Just get lost already!"Yang Si laughed heartily, turned around and left, then teasingly called back over his shoulder, "Don't worry, don't worry. If you sneak a bite, remember to wipe your mouth clean. I won't tell Yan Er."
After the others had left, Fang Tong reminded from outside, "Your Highness, the carriage is about to enter the alley. We've arrived at the residence."
Mu Wan Yao naturally understood what Fang Tong was hinting at: "Mm."
Inside the carriage, Yan Shang kept his head lowered as they each straightened their robes, neither speaking.
After a long silence, Yan Shang finally couldn't hold back. Gritting his teeth, he said, "You told me people outside wouldn't know what was happening inside!"
Mu Wan Yao feigned innocence: "They don't know."
Yan Shang grew somewhat angry: "Do you take me for a fool? If they didn't know, why would Fang Tong remind you we're about to enter the alley? Why would he suddenly give such a reminder out of nowhere? You're just... just making excuses for your reckless behavior."
Mu Wan Yao, feeling guilty, remained silent.
As they spoke, the carriage came to a halt.
Without the slightest hesitation, Yan Shang stepped out and strode back to his residence, so flustered and furious he didn't even bother with an umbrella. Meanwhile, Fang Tong held an umbrella for the princess as she stood by the carriage, gazing at the closed gate of the neighboring estate.
After a long pause, Fang Tong asked, "Your Highness, have you truly angered Erlang?"
Mu Wan Yao replied uncertainly, "Probably... not that much? Would a man get angry over this?"
Fang Tong said, "Your Highness is asking me? Of course I wouldn't get angry... but he is Yan Erlang."
Mu Wan Yao fell silent, exchanging a look with her guard captain.
Fang Tong asked uneasily, "Your Highness, about this... should I not have spoken earlier?"
Mu Wan Yao sighed: "There's no helping it. You didn't know he was clever enough to figure it out. You only asked one question, and he guessed everything."
Fang Tong said remorsefully, "Then this subordinate will go find Erlang tomorrow to apologize."
Mu Wan Yao replied optimistically, "No need. Pretending nothing happened is the real solution. If you go to apologize, he'll surely be unbearably embarrassed. I'll go tomorrow to coax an apology and cheer him up instead. His temper is so good—he might not even be angry after tonight."
Master and servant entered the residence, discussing how to prepare gifts the next day to appease the seemingly offended gentleman.
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