One elopement shakes the court. But in the eye of the storm, two hearts finally align—not just in desire, but in destiny.
News of the Beicang princess's elopement spread through the post station like wildfire, stirring no small commotion. Yet Gu Lian and Ai Miao's composure was like a stabilizing anchor—calm and unshakable—quickly restoring order.
Inside the study, only the two of them remained. The official directives had been issued, but the air still held traces of last night's intimacy and the tremor of newly confirmed affection.
Gu Lian set down his cinnabar brush, his gaze falling on the faint red mark at Ai Miao's neck, half-hidden by the collar of his official robe. His eyes darkened slightly. He rose, circled the desk, and stopped in front of Ai Miao.
Ai Miao instinctively tried to step back, but Gu Lian caught his wrist.
"Does it still hurt?" Gu Lian's voice was low, his fingertip gently brushing the shallow imprint left on Ai Miao's wrist—pressed there last night when he'd pinned him to the pillow.
Ai Miao's ears flushed. He lowered his gaze. "Your servant is fine." He tried to pull his hand away, but Gu Lian held it tighter.
"Fine?" Gu Lian stepped closer, trapping him between the desk and his own body. "Then why won't you look at me?" His breath grazed Ai Miao's ear, laced with unmistakable possessiveness. "Last night… who was beneath me?"
"Your Highness!" Ai Miao looked up sharply, a flicker of embarrassment flashing in his ink-dark eyes. But when he met Gu Lian's teasing gaze, he instantly understood—he was being deliberately provoked.
The tension in his chest loosened. He sighed. "Your Highness… now is the time to prioritize state affairs."
"State affairs are important," Gu Lian said, his fingers brushing Ai Miao's cheek, his tone growing serious. "But so are our private matters—from now on, just as much."
He looked into Ai Miao's eyes. "Ai Miao, it's been five years. Last night… your body told me the truth."
His voice dropped, tinged with lingering fear and tenderness. "If that scandal had succeeded… if I had believed those rumors and not come to you…" His grip tightened. "Five years apart is already too long. I won't let any more misunderstandings stand between us."
Ai Miao saw the raw concern in Gu Lian's eyes. The last trace of hesitation—born of status and history—finally dissolved.
He gently returned the grip, voice soft. "It was I… who chose the most hurtful way to leave."
Gu Lian caught the weight in his words. "The most hurtful way? Ai Miao, when you went to Beijing… was it not entirely your choice? Not just for glory?"
Ai Miao's gaze flickered. He avoided Gu Lian's probing eyes. "Your Highness, Beijing is behind us. I… fulfilled my duty."
He couldn't speak of the Emperor and Empress's pressure—not now. It would drive a wedge between Gu Lian and his parents, a rift neither the court nor the family could afford. He could only offer a vague answer, hinting that his departure hadn't been of his own will.
Gu Lian, ever perceptive, understood immediately. He didn't press further. He simply pulled Ai Miao into a tighter embrace.
"No matter the reason back then—it's over. From now on, we face everything together. As for my parents… I'll handle them."
—
Meanwhile, in A Lie's tent, the atmosphere was very different.
Morning light filtered through the curtain. A Lie woke with a pounding headache, fragments of last night rushing back—drug-induced restlessness, eyes that mirrored the Crown Prince's stubborn gaze, pulling someone into his tent, hurried breaths in the dark, the unmistakable feel of a slender waist…
He sat up abruptly and looked to his side.
Qing Ying was already dressed, back turned, silently fastening her armor with practiced speed. But the scattered undergarments on the floor, and the stiffness in her movements—so unlike her usual composure—spoke of a truth that could not be undone.
"You…" A Lie's voice was hoarse from shock and lingering intoxication.
Qing Ying paused but didn't turn. Her voice was low and steady, devoid of emotion. "The general is awake. I… will prepare breakfast." She moved to lift the curtain.
"Stop." A Lie's voice cracked. His mind was a mess. He remembered more—how the drug and those eyes had confused him, how he'd mistaken her, how he had…
"Last night… I…"
"Nothing happened," Qing Ying cut him off, finally turning around. Her face had regained the cold mask of a bodyguard, though the faint redness around her eyes betrayed her.
"The general was under the influence of a mild aphrodisiac. You experienced hallucinations. I merely… fulfilled my duty to protect."
A Lie looked at her forced calm, remembered her silent loyalty over the years, her battlefield devotion. Compared it to his own hopeless longing.
A wave of emotion surged—guilt, confusion, and a strange, unnameable sense of release.
He opened his mouth, but in the end, only waved his hand tiredly. "…Go."
Qing Ying bowed and left swiftly, as if pardoned.
After breakfast, the core officials gathered in the study.
Gu Lian sat at the head of the table, Ai Miao stood at his side. Between them flowed a quiet, indescribable sense of harmony. A Lie stood below, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the two, his expression complex—tinged with a faint, imperceptible loneliness.
"The Beicang princess's elopement may appear to be a crisis," Gu Lian began, voice steady, "but in truth, it's an opportunity to bring Beicang fully under our control."
"Ai Miao, what's your view?"
Ai Miao stepped forward, thoughts clear. "Your Highness is wise. Beicang is clearly at fault. We can use this to apply pressure and force them into a submissive treaty. The key is to make them understand—there is no path forward except full allegiance to Da Sheng."
He paused, looking at Gu Lian. "I suggest we have our border troops adopt a northward posture, while dispatching a fast rider with Your Highness's personal letter to the Beicang royal court, laying out the consequences. If their king is wise, he should come in person to plead for forgiveness—not merely send envoys."
"Approved," Gu Lian nodded, his gaze toward Ai Miao filled with open admiration. "You will take full charge of negotiations with Beicang."
"I accept the order."
A Lie watched their seamless coordination and understood: after last night, the invisible wall between these two had completely melted. They were now closer than ever—more than they had been five years ago.
Suppressing the bitterness in his heart, A Lie stepped forward. "Your Highness, could the Beicang princess's elopement be connected to the remnants of Beijing's rebel factions? The timing seems… too coincidental."
Gu Lian and Ai Miao exchanged a glance. Ai Miao nodded slightly.
Gu Lian said, "Your concern is valid. There is something suspicious here. A Lie, I task you with investigating any links between the Beijing remnants and Beicang's internal factions—especially any contact with the 'eloped' princess."
"I accept the mission!" A Lie's spirit lifted. It was a task he was well-suited for—and a chance to escape the emotionally charged atmosphere.
—
In the days that followed, the post station became a temporary center of power.
Gu Lian oversaw the incoming intelligence. Ai Miao handled the tense correspondence and negotiation prep with Beicang. The two often worked late into the night in the study.
One evening, Ai Miao was drafting the royal letter to the Beicang king. Gu Lian, having finished his own tasks, walked over and naturally began massaging Ai Miao's tense temples.
Ai Miao paused—but didn't resist. He relaxed slightly, leaning back. "Your Highness…"
"If you're tired, rest," Gu Lian said gently. "You don't have to shoulder everything alone."
"This concerns the future of the realm. I must ensure nothing goes wrong." Ai Miao closed his eyes, letting the pressure soothe him. "Besides… to fight alongside Your Highness—I don't feel tired."
Gu Lian's heart stirred. He bent down and placed a soft kiss on Ai Miao's hair. "When this is over, once we return to the capital…"
He didn't finish the sentence. But Ai Miao understood.
They would face the Emperor and Empress. The court. A storm far more complex than Beicang.
Yet at this moment, Ai Miao felt calm. As long as this man stood beside him, he feared nothing.
"…Mm." He answered softly.
—
Three days later, Beicang's reply arrived with unprecedented speed.
The letter was filled with panic. Not only did they accept all terms, they pledged to personally escort lavish gifts and come to the border to beg forgiveness before the Crown Prince.
The news spread. The post station was jubilant.
—
That night, Gu Lian sat alone in his room, reviewing the next steps. Ai Miao entered, carrying a cup of calming tea.
"Your Highness, Beicang is settled. You can finally breathe."
He placed the cup gently beside Gu Lian.
Gu Lian took his wrist and pulled him down to sit beside him. "Beicang may be settled. But between us… one matter remains."
Ai Miao looked up.
Gu Lian held his hand, gaze deep and solemn. "Ai Miao, the pain and separation of these five years stemmed from misunderstanding—and from my parents' interference."
He finally named the obstacle. "I won't let anything stand between us again. When we return, I'll speak to them myself. You are not my subordinate, nor some favored courtier. You are the one I've chosen—for life. This empire—I want to share it with you. Not just have you serve it."
Ai Miao's heart trembled. Gu Lian had not only affirmed his loyalty, but seen through the imperial pressure—and made a promise.
He gripped Gu Lian's hand tightly, knuckles whitening, as if trying to imprint five years of pain, restraint, and now this overwhelming confirmation into their bones.
"Good." He looked at Gu Lian, eyes gleaming like stars, reflecting the man before him. "Your Highness's empire—I will guard it with you. No matter what lies ahead, I will follow you. To life or death."
As the words fell, Gu Lian was no longer the one leading.
Ai Miao leaned forward and kissed the lips that had just spoken such a vow.
The kiss was fierce, decisive, and full of surrender. It burned with the passion of someone who had cast aside all hesitation.
Gu Lian let out a low gasp, then responded with equal fervor—arms tightening around Ai Miao's waist, as if trying to fuse him into his very being.
Five years of bitter separation. Months of aching proximity. All of it ignited into a wildfire of longing.
As their breaths mingled, Ai Miao's hand slipped beneath Gu Lian's collar. Her fingertips trembled imperceptibly yet touched his firm, warm chest with unwavering resolve.
Gu Lian's breath caught as he allowed those cool fingers to ignite sparks of desire across his skin. He sensed something different about Ai Miao tonight—the long-suppressed urge for control, rooted deep within the strategist's core, was quietly unleashed by the tide of passion.
"Tonight..." Ai Miao drew back slightly, his breath uneven. His ink-black eyes, unfathomable in the candlelight, held a nearly aggressive gleam Gu Lian had never seen before. "Let this servant attend to Your Highness."
It was not a question, but a declaration.
Gu Lian watched him, observing the flames burning in the eyes of this usually cool and composed strategist. A strange flutter of indulgence stirred within him. He chuckled softly, his voice laced with affection and complete trust as he leaned back against the bed, releasing his grip. "...Very well."
With tacit permission granted, Ai Miao hesitated no longer. He undid Gu Lian's sash with meticulous, almost reverent care, his movements no longer swift as usual but instead deliberate and slow, like a form of torture. His fingertips traced the taut abdominal muscles, sensing the sudden stiffness beneath him and the sharp deepening of breath.
He leaned down, his kisses tracing Gu Lian's neck downward, leaving a trail of delicate marks on skin that had once belonged to him and remained as taut as ever.
When his lips and tongue touched the sensitive spot on Gu Lian's chest, the latter finally couldn't suppress a low gasp, his fingers digging deep into the brocade mattress beneath him. "Ai Miao..." His voice was hoarse beyond recognition.
"Your Highness..." Ai Miao lifted his head, his eyes glistening with moisture yet holding a clear, unquestionable intent. "Don't rush."
He reached for the jade-hued ointment beside the pillow, dipping his fingertip into the cool paste. When his finger tentatively probed the hidden entrance, Gu Lian's body tensed abruptly, a suppressed whimper escaping his throat.
"Relax, Lian," Ai Miao murmured against his ear, using this intimate nickname for the first time in passion. His other hand gently soothed the taut muscles of his back. "Let me take care of you."
Gu Lian trembled at the sound of that name. Closing his eyes, he surrendered completely, releasing all tension. As Ai Miao slowly entered him, the sensation of being filled—slightly painful yet profoundly reassuring—drew a simultaneous sigh of satisfaction from both.
This time, there was no drug-induced haze, no desperate craving. Only lucid, soul-stirring ecstasy—the ultimate fusion of spirit and flesh.
Ai Miao's movements were initially awkward, a rustiness long absent, but he quickly found his rhythm—not the rhythm of a subject serving a sovereign, but that of a strategist reclaiming his chessboard. On the bodily territory of the only ruler he wished to submit to, he advanced step by step, meticulously and unquestionably reasserting his presence and authority. Each thrust ground precisely over that spot, striking the vital point like his most cunning stratagems, sending Gu Lian into uncontrollable tremors and moans.
As overwhelming ecstasy engulfed them, Ai Miao collapsed atop Gu Lian, clutching him tightly. With his last ounce of strength, he growled into his ear: "Your Highness... you are mine..."
Gu Lian trembled violently in his arms, releasing himself, responding with a broken whisper: "...Yes. I am yours..."
The waves of passion slowly receded, yet their lingering echoes still coursed through every limb and bone. Ai Miao closed his eyes contentedly, immersed in the tranquil peace of complete possession and belonging. Yet barely a moment passed before he felt Gu Lian's arms tighten around his waist once more.
"Once is never enough," Gu Lian's voice, hoarse with desire, murmured against his ear as scorching lips kissed his nape. "You owe me five years... Tonight, you'll repay every moment, with interest."
Before Ai Miao could respond, Gu Lian shifted into a sideways position and entered him once more from behind. This angle made their union intensely intimate and tender—less fierce than before, yet filled with endless lingering and caressing.
"This time, we're together." Gu Lian's hands circled his waist, gently yet firmly grasping his newly risen spirit. The rhythm shifted from slow to fast, each deep thrust perfectly grazing Ai Miao's sensitive spots while making Gu Lian's own breaths grow increasingly ragged.
In this moment, there was no longer dominance or submission. Only the resonance of their souls and flesh, like a thoroughly satisfying dance.
Ai Miao clutched Gu Lian's arms wrapped around his waist. All sensation amplified infinitely, leaving only the scorching heat of the man behind him and the chaotic, intertwined breaths at his ear.
When the ultimate, perfectly synchronized pleasure engulfed them once more, Gu Lian bit his earlobe and declared hoarsely, "Ai Miao... we... will be together forever."
Ai Miao reached his peak in Gu Lian's embrace. A white light exploded in his mind, and with his last ounce of consciousness, he murmured in response: "...Yes. Forever... together."
The candle had gone out at some point. Moonlight filtered through the window lattice, gently enveloping the two figures on the bed, still tightly entwined and catching their breath. Sweat mingled, breaths intertwined—they could no longer tell one from the other.
Outside the window, moonlight flowed like water, quietly enveloping the border inn that had just weathered a storm yet now nurtured new beginnings. The road ahead might still be rugged, but two hearts that had endured trials and finally clung tightly to each other now feared nothing.