Que Zhi lowered his gaze to the radiant young man in red beside him, his eyes brimming with tenderness and devotion that could not be contained.
He leaned in slowly, his frame gently enveloping Xi Yu, carrying the crisp scent of grass and wood mingled with a faint trace of wine.
“Are you willing? …”
Under such circumstances, what he was asking needed no explanation.
Xi Yu understood Que Zhi’s meaning perfectly.
“I am willing.”
Que Zhi froze for a moment, then the realization struck him instantly.
Holding the warm, soft body in his arms, his chest still trembling with a low, restrained laugh that rumbled in his throat—tinged with irrepressible joy and longing.
He bent his head, pressing his forehead against Xi Yu’s flushed temple, his warm breath spilling over his brow. His fingertips lightly traced the fine fabric at the small of Xi Yu’s back, his touch gentle yet unmistakably reverent.
The faint trace of unease that had lingered in his heart had vanished like smoke, replaced by a joy so full it threatened to overflow—like a meadow bursting into bloom on a spring day on the grassland, sweeping across everything, impossible to contain.
Xi Yu, cradled in his arms, felt his cheeks burn even hotter. He buried his face in Que Zhi’s chest, his long lashes trembling nonstop, not daring to look up at the too-intense emotion blazing in Que Zhi’s eyes.
Que Zhi slowly raised his hand, his thumb brushing gently over the flushed corner of Xi Yu’s eye, then pressed a soft kiss there—his movements so tender, as if afraid he might shatter him.
His gaze was deep and dark, holding the scattered stars of the night sky, but holding only one person within them: Xi Yu.
The night breeze drifted quietly through the courtyard. The silver ornaments beneath the eaves chimed softly now and then. The lamplight flickered hazily, casting the intertwined shadows of the two into a long, tender embrace.
All the reserve and shyness melted away in the shelter of his doting arms, leaving only complete security and trust.
Que Zhi held him steady with one arm around his waist, keeping him firmly locked in his embrace, allowing no room for retreat.
With the other hand, he traced along the loosely braided strands of Xi Yu’s hair, fingertips brushing through the loose locks, gliding over the cool silver ornaments at his forehead, and finally coming to rest on his cheek.
He pulled back just a little, their foreheads still touching, his voice low and hoarse, laced with a smile and endless tenderness: “A-Yu …”
Just those two simple syllables, falling softly upon Xi Yu’s ear, filled with certainty and joy.
At the sound of his name, Xi Yu rubbed the tip of his nose against Que Zhi’s collar, letting out a soft, muffled “Mm,” still refusing to look up—but the tips of his ears had turned an even deeper shade of red.
Seeing him like this—too shy to hide, yet obediently clinging to him—only deepened the joy in Que Zhi’s heart.
He couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, the vibration of his chest passing gently into Xi Yu’s own, warm and steady.
He lifted Xi Yu gently into his arms, his movements careful and sure, as if holding the one and only treasure in the world, and walked slowly toward the inner chamber.
The lamplight fell upon his straight-backed silhouette, their red robes tangling together, their figures entwined, melting into the tender, tranquil night of their wedding.
For all the years to come—the eternal stars over the grassland, the warm winds and green pastures—he had finally kept his beloved by his side, whole and complete.
—
Que Zhi propped himself up slightly and looked down at the flushed, gentle, docile young man beneath him. His eyes brimmed with indulgence, and he murmured softly: “From now on, I am yours.”
At those words, Xi Yu’s lashes trembled faintly. He didn’t open his eyes, only tilted his head slightly in Que Zhi’s direction.
A response so soft it was barely audible, sweet and obedient—a silent acceptance of a lifetime together, of where he belonged.
Que Zhi lowered his head and captured the softness of Xi Yu’s lips.
Xi Yu, caught off guard, let out a tiny, breathy whimper from his throat:
“Mn …”
Que Zhi pressed forward step by step. Xi Yu could not hold his defenses—and in the end, the gates fell …
Xi Yu’s hands instinctively clutched at the bedcovers.
His neck arched back, a sheen of fragrant perspiration forming …
He wanted to escape, but Que Zhi held him fast by the waist.
“A-Yu … call me …”
“Que … Que Zhi …”
“No. Call me ‘husband.’”
“Hus … husband … ~”
The candle flames within the chamber flickered quietly, casting a warm, tender crimson glow across the room.
Outside, the night wind was still, the Milky Way hanging low. Inside, only their intertwined breaths remained—and two hearts, bound close together, unwilling ever to part.
—
Xi Yu’s mind was foggy and drowsy. He didn’t know how much time had passed before Que Zhi finally withdrew.
“A-Yu was amazing—you took all of—”
Before he could finish, Xi Yu, limp and exhausted, gave him a weak slap.
“Don’t say it.”
Even though what he said was true—
“Don’t say it.”
“You liar. Jerk!”
His voice was hoarse, soft, and still thick with the remnants of weeping.
Xi Yu’s body and mind were still adrift in the lingering warmth; he could barely feel that his body was even his own anymore.
The slap landed on Que Zhi’s face without any real force—soft and fragrant. Que Zhi caught his hand, brought it to his nose, breathed it in, and kissed it over and over.
“I won’t say it, I won’t. Let me take A-Yu to bathe,” Que Zhi coaxed gently.
Que Zhi carried Xi Yu and washed him carefully from head to toe. Only then did Xi Yu finally drift into a peaceful sleep—by which time the sky outside was already bright with morning light.
(So much was cut!!! 😭)
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