A Hundred Of Beautiful Lives - Chapter 6

Princess Ji Yang sat nervously on the low bed. In the past, she was always the one watching others get nervous, but this was the first time she was so anxious that she couldn’t help but clutch the corner of her robe.

With every step Shen Du took as he entered, it felt like he was treading on Ji Yang’s heartbeat, each step landing in rhythm with her pounding heart—thump, thump—utterly beyond her control.

He was clad in a formal crimson triple-layered brocade robe edged with intricate gold-threaded auspicious cloud patterns. His hair was held in place by a golden crown, adorned with a floral-shaped golden hairpin. Under the soft glow of the paired dragon and phoenix candles, the stern and cold aura softened, something Ji Yang had first noticed on Shen Du.

In truth, Shen Du’s features leaned toward handsome and gentle, with lips that naturally curled slightly upward. Yet his imposing presence made people feel awe, causing them to forget his beauty.

Shen Du’s face had a faint flush from wine, his expression betraying a hint of fatigue and languor. 

He rubbed his brow and walked to Ji Yang, saying, “I’ll go wash up first.”

Before Ji Yang could reply, Shen Du had already turned and headed for the purification room. Two maidservants in their twenties hurriedly bowed to Ji Yang and followed to serve him in the cleansing room.

By proper etiquette, Princess Ji Yang ought to have been formally greeted by Shen Du. Even though the elaborate etiquette between husband and wife could be simplified, he shouldn’t have spoken to her so casually.

But Shen Du’s commanding presence was so overwhelming that one in the room felt his actions were offensive, as if everything were natural. Had the female official at Ji Yang’s side not perished in the recent calamity, she might have soberly reminded Princess Anle. 

Unfortunately, Yù Suì’ér and the others, lacking experience, dared not even look directly at Shen Du, which was already considered brave.

Ji Yang had been sitting stiffly by the bedside the whole time, until her neck grew a bit sore; only then did she loosen up and let Yu Sui’er hurriedly give her a few massages.

When Shen Du returned from the cleansing room, now in casual robes, Lù Zhū’er knelt with a bowl and presented it for him. Shen Du drank a bowl of sobering soup and then came to sit beside the bed.

For a moment, Ji Yang could no longer hear anything. The attendants silently withdrew, leaving only the two maids who served Shen Du. After pulling down the curtain in front of the bed, they stood still behind it.

These two, Qing Qing and Zi Jin, were responsible for Shen Du’s inner bedchamber needs.

Though Ji Yang was used to such arrangements—her father and mother had even more people serving them, including court historians—this was her first experience, and she inevitably felt shy.

Shen Du was experienced, compared to her nervousness and stiffness. He reached out and took Ji Yang’s jade-like hand resting on her lap, his thumb gently stroking her fingers. He could feel her slender, delicate hand tremble slightly beneath his touch.

Ji Yang’s eyelashes fluttered, like two little fans flapping rapidly, as if a butterfly desperately flapping its wings trying to escape. When Shen Du’s palm gently stroked her back, her body began to tremble even more intensely.

Blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes as if washed by water. Shen Du gazed at her as one would admire a struggling prey, watching her breathe with delicate gasps.

Ji Yang, in that moment, dared not meet Shen Du’s gaze. When Shen Du lowered his head and gently kissed the corner of her lips, Ji Yang felt the world spin. Her breath came in sharp gasps. 

“I…” she began, though she wasn’t sure what she was about to say.

Before she could finish the word “I,” Shen Du’s next move startled her into swallowing it back. His lips barely touched hers like a dragonfly skimming water, and moved downward.

Tiny sparks seemed to ignite in places that no one had touched before. The sensation was unfamiliar and frightening, and Ji Yang’s body began to tremble.

That trembling curve was all it took to spark Shen Du’s fire. The daughter of Su Jiang indeed was a peerless beauty—her delicate collarbones like fine vessels holding the sweetest wine.

The gold hook swayed; thin red silk curtains slowly fell.

Indeed, it is like the first cry of a fledgling oriole—each note soaked in blood; the willow-like waist bends lightly, each motion shedding tear after tear. The tender and alluring national beauty, a peony in full bloom, was crushed into juice, mixed into an elixir and made to be swallowed in one gulp, only to transform into the divine Golden Crow.

Outside, Qing Qing and Zi Jin stood behind the curtain, hearing the muffled cries of pain while keeping their eyes to their noses, noses to their heart, standing motionless.

Only when the movements inside went on without pause for quite a while did the two of them slightly lift their eyes and exchange glances, their brows carrying a look of pity. 

A maiden’s first time was never to be taken lightly. In the past, even when Shen Du bedded women, he had always exercised utmost tenderness. Nevertheless, the women in his garden still had to rely on Qing Qing and Zi Jin for support, just barely able to stand.

By the second half of the night, the noises finally subsided. After a while, the sound of a bell rang out. Qing Qing and Zi Jin immediately knelt, carefully lifting the curtain to help Shen Du put on his shoes and robe, not daring to raise their heads as they assisted him into the cleansing room.

Zi Jin came out first, a bit bolder, and walked to the bedside. Lifting the corner of the bed curtain, she saw Princess Anle sleeping deeply, her body covered in red marks- enough to make anyone’s heart race.

Despite being on the brink of fainting from exhaustion, Ji Yang couldn’t sleep peacefully. With another person beside her, half her body still pressed under his, it would be strange if she could get used to it. But she was so tired that she could barely open her eyes, so she only endured until dawn. 

When the rooster crowed, she irritably kicked her legs, but the person beside her moved closer, trapping her legs with his.

Ji Yang, feeling wronged, rubbed her eyes and looked at Shen Du, pouting in protest, “Fùmǎ.”

Some people love being called Fùmǎ, but others may not necessarily like hearing that title. Ji Yang felt a pain in her waist before Shen Du forced her to turn over and lie face down on the bed.

She wanted to turn and scold him, but Shen Du gently pressed her head down, not too hard, just enough that she couldn’t move her neck.

“Fùmǎ!” Ji Yang couldn’t help but cry out.

In the world behind bed curtains, perhaps nothing stirs more excitement than pressing a royal Princess beneath oneself and ravaging her at will.

Poor Ji Yang called to heaven and earth, but neither responded. Outside, Qing Qing and Zi Jin were just about to enter and wake the couple. Hearing the noise, they instantly stopped.

After a long while, another bell sounded. Only then did they tread lightly inside to serve Shen Du as he washed and dressed again.

Meanwhile, Ji Yang fell back into a deep, muddled sleep. Yu Sui’er and the others waited outside for a long time without being summoned. Eventually, seeing Shen Du leave, they mustered their courage and entered. When they pulled Ji Yang from the bed, both Yù Suì’ér and Lù Zhū’ér didn’t know where to look.

Still half-asleep, Ji Yang was rinsed with hot water, quickly dressed, and ushered out of the cleansing room.

“Prince Consort, peace be with you.” 

Yù Suì’ér and Lù Zhū’ér saw Shen Du come in from outside and hastily greeted him.

Shen Du swept a glance at both of them, and Yù Suì’ér and Lù Zhū’ér dared not breathe upon hearing him speak. 

“You two go out first.”

Yù Suì’ér and Lù Zhū’ér exchanged a glance, hesitating between going out and staying put. Then, seeking help, they turned to look at Ji Yang—but unfortunately, their Princess was utterly hopeless. She didn’t even bother to lift her eyelids, just flopping back onto the bed by herself.

Yù Suì’ér and Lù Zhū’ér both sighed softly in their hearts and quietly withdrew. Once outside, they nudged and blamed each other for being so easily frightened.

The two maids, in truth, couldn’t be held responsible for their timidity. Although Anle held the status of a Princess, she had, after all, married far away. The heavens were high, and the Emperor was far. If they had to wait for Empress Su to support them, by that time, the grass on their graves would likely be as tall as a person.

Yù Suì’ér couldn’t help but resent those bandits, violent bandits. If not for them, the female officials and the Princess’s guards the Empress had assigned to the Princess wouldn’t have perished. 

Now, even their spines could no longer stand straight.

Back inside the room, Shen Du pulled Ji Yang upright, making her grumble in annoyance. 

‘Who has so little sense to disturb me now?’ 

But when she opened her eyes and saw that it was Shen Du, she couldn’t help but feel both angry and afraid. This man had actually dared to treat her like that.

Ji Yang glared hard at Shen Du, only pity that her eyes were brimming with autumn waters, carrying a peach-blossom charm, were so enchanting and flirtatious that she had no real force.

Ji Yang was indeed peculiar. After a night of such torment, anyone else would have emerged looking wan and worn, their spirit visibly drained, but she was different. Her complexion was rosy and full, like a hibiscus flower soaked with dew, both lovely and radiant, glistening with seductive moisture, glowing with vitality, and yet limply tilting to the side.

Indeed, a naturally born seductive beauty, enough to melt bones and drain marrow.

“Fùmǎ!” 

Ji Yang saw Shen Du reaching again to undo her robe and hurriedly pressed down his hand in a fluster—this time, she was irate.

Shen Du shook the jade box in his hand, opened it, and held it beneath Ji Yang’s nose for her to smell—its coolness seeping straight into the bones. He had long practised the Nine-Turn Blazing Sun Technique and was now at the eighth turn. Ordinary women could not withstand him, so the room was always stocked with ointments.

Usually, Shen Du wouldn’t concern himself with such trifles. It was only because he had last night treated the delicate and pampered Princess Anle like a courtesan from the Jiaofang that he had to take care of the aftermath. 

In truth, Shen Du also felt a bit of pity for this Princess Anle. She was so tender and fresh, just a light pinch and she would yield, and yet, within her softness was hidden strength, slender and pliant, which made him lose control.

Ji Yang struggled slightly and muttered, “Then you’re only allowed to apply the medicine for me, nothing else.” 

After saying that, she didn’t show shyness and allowed Shen Du to serve her. She was used to being waited on—her Imperial father and mother had even fanned her or brought her medicine.

Shen Du gazed at the delicate figure in his arms. She had indeed been pampered her entire life. Initially, he had intended to pass her the ointment and take his leave, but now could only patiently scoop out a lump and apply it to the purplish bruises on her body.

“Be gentle,” Ji Yang lightly bit Shen Du’s shoulder, shyly pretending to be asleep, curling up in his arms and letting him spread her legs to apply the medicine for her.

After another round of tossing about, the dawn had fully broken. 

Ji Yang allowed Yu Sui’er and Lu Zhu’er to assist her in washing and dressing. She hastily drank a bowl of light congee made with green millet, did not bother applying make-up to her face and put on the bride’s red dress. 

Then, together with Shen Du, who had been waiting outside, she went to Madam Xue’s Jiǔ Rú Courtyard.