The fingers fiddling with the plum blossoms paused. A dark glint flashed in Cheng Qian Gong's eyes as he lowered his gaze, his eyelashes trembling.
Pretending it was casual, yet seeming to probe.
"Why does Your Highness suddenly ask this?"
Shen Yue had suddenly thought to ask, truly wanting to know what Cheng Qian Gong was thinking, even though she already knew the answer.
After waiting for a while without a reply from behind, Cheng Qian Gong turned his head in confusion and found Shen Yue had closed her eyes again. She wasn't asleep, just unwilling to answer.
For some reason, Cheng Qian Gong's hand subconsciously clenched.
Shen Yue seemed to have become much colder towards him.
Xi'er was not driven away in the end; Shen Yue had asked him to stay.
At that time, Shen Yue had drunk a little outside, feeling slightly tipsy but not drunk, the scent of wine faintly clinging to her sleeves.
Not wanting to go to Qing Yue Palace, Shen Yue went to her own sleeping chambers. Perhaps because it had been left vacant for a long time, it felt even emptier than before.
After bathing, she had no sleepiness at all, so she found a book to read. Her forehead throbbed with pain, making her extremely irritable.
She roughly rubbed her temples, the area almost rubbed red.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps.
Shen Yue was already very annoyed, and seeing someone at this moment only made her more vexed. Her brows were cold, the corners of her narrow eyes tinged with crimson, and she said coldly, "Scram!"
The footsteps stopped, then did not hastily retreat but slowly moved forward.
Shen Yue lowered her hand, the answer already in her heart. She lifted her eyelids and saw Cheng Qian Gong, who had approached her at some unknown time.
Dressed in white, his features were clear and handsome. His thin lips were pressed tightly together, and his deep, dark eyes were as cold and piercing as the deep sea at midnight.
His nose was quite sharp. He smelled the faint scent of alcohol, and his brows immediately furrowed. His tone involuntarily turned cold, "You've been drinking?"
Looking at the face before her now, Shen Yue felt no stirring. She could feel that the heart that once beat for this person had stopped. It should have stopped long ago; she hadn't been heartless enough.
Even now, she was still not heartless enough.
If she were truly heartless, Cheng Qian Gong wouldn't be standing here perfectly fine.
It was quite boring; everything in this world was boring.
Perhaps she was truly a little drunk. Shen Yue didn't want to see this face, not even bothering to deal with him.
"What business is it of yours?"
Her voice was exceedingly indifferent, with a hint of casualness. Cheng Qian Gong's lips pressed tighter, and a nameless anger surged within him.
"The imperial physician said you must rest these days, abstain from meat, and do not touch alcohol, or your head will ache. Do you not value your own body like this?"
His clear voice had always been gentle and serene, but now it was filled with anger, sharp and aggressive.
To Shen Yue's ears, it was even more grating. She was truly annoyed, vexed by various reasons. Her dark eyes watched the man indifferently, her long eyelashes drooping languidly.
She was cold, and gloomy.
This was an expression she had never shown to Cheng Qian Gong before. She was originally like this, but she had been willing to show her softest side to Cheng Qian Gong.
At the same time, when she felt annoyed, she could retract that soft side.
Still the same words.
It seemed there was nothing else to say after that one sentence.
"What business is it of yours?"
Cheng Qian Gong's eyelids suddenly lifted, his gaze cold and dark, exuding a deep, frigid malevolence.
Gritting his teeth, he spoke word by word.
"Shen, Yue!"
He called her by name, without regard for hierarchy.
Her forehead ached more. Shen Yue had already closed her eyes, a thin blush spreading across her pale skin. She smiled, her pear dimples appearing and disappearing.
"Are you worried about me? Is it genuine, or feigned? If I were to die like this, wouldn't that suit your intentions? Yet you stand here acting so sanctimonious, who are you saying this for?"
Perhaps she was truly drunk, or perhaps it was just drunken ramblings. Shen Yue seemed to say it casually, without giving it much thought, but those words pierced Cheng Qian Gong's heart like sharp nails. His face turned a little pale, and the hand hidden in his sleeve trembled.
"What does Your Highness mean by this?"
Shen Yue closed her eyes, seemingly oblivious to his abnormality, a faint smile on her face. She merely said, "Forget it, forget it."
These few light words were like severed shackles, the ones that had been binding her, severed by his own hand. The process might have been painful, but the moment they broke, the longing was gone. Although it was empty, it was also liberating.
She could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
That was also a true stillness.
Cheng Qian Gong remained silent, his heart feeling as though it were pressed down by a giant rock. It wasn't exactly painful, just a little suffocating.
He was confused, not understanding what Shen Yue truly meant.
Or perhaps he understood, but was unwilling to face it.
"Forget what?" Cheng Qian Gong's eyes were terrifyingly dark, his voice cold and hoarse, as if scorched by fire. "Shen Yue, speak clearly."
It was impossible to speak clearly now. Shen Yue had already closed her eyes and fallen into a slumber, a faint smile still lingering on her lips. Cheng Qian Gong found it particularly jarring.
He strode forward and grabbed Shen Yue's shoulder. His lips were pulled taut, his eyes bloodshot, fury and ferocity appearing on his face, veins bulging on his neck.
He stared intently at Shen Yue's face, his gaze like a drawn sword. His voice was hoarse, as if countless rolling flames were compressed within his chest.
Yet he was restrained and controlled.
"Shen Yue, don't sleep. Speak clearly, tell me clearly, what did that sentence mean?"
"Shen Yue, don't sleep!"
He was like a raging, violent lion, shedding the pretense of approachability and gentleness. Within his bestial core lay possession, plunder, and fierceness.
No one answered his question. Shen Yue had closed her eyes and fallen into a deep sleep. She couldn't hear Cheng Qian Gong's questions, and even if she could, she wouldn't respond.
Incense curled upwards, the charcoal fire burned brightly. The sleeping chamber was silent, only the man's gnashing, roaring questions echoed, the reverberations lingering stubbornly.
In this extreme quiet, he felt a surge of panic.
As if to confirm something, he hurriedly leaned in and kissed Shen Yue's lips. The soft, sweet touch did not diminish but burned ever more intensely like a flame.
His expression was dark, his heart pierced by countless fine needles. It was not a gentle, lingering kiss, but a gnawing, filled with violent possession and even panic.
Even in her slumber, Shen Yue could feel the pain.