When her lips were kissed, Qingge seemed to still hear Ning Wang’s laughter—deep, lingering. The cold yet domineering aura enveloped her entire being, making her slightly confused, unsure of what had just happened. This sensation was indescribable—as if some potent poison had surged through her body, paralyzing all her strength.
His overwhelming presence asserted itself relentlessly, wrapping her in its grasp. The man, used to stand above others, radiated an aura of power that shook her to the core, causing her to instinctively try to get away.
But Ning Wang evidently sensed her hesitation, his dark eyes narrowed slightly. A man as self-centered as he was could never tolerate any form of rejection, and her slight, futile resistance only stirred the primal instinct to conquer that lay hidden within all men. As if to give Qingge a warning, his grip tightened with a subtle force, sending a strange sensation through her body, causing her to nearly collapse on the spot.
Pinching her chin, his gaze landed on the slender and graceful line of her fair neck—a fine sight to behold. He gave in to his instincts, delivering a strong kiss to her delicate collarbone as he clamped her legs at the same time, forcing her to stumble backward. Soon enough, Qingge was forced to retreat to the bed.
Weakness overcame her legs, causing her to partially collapse against the mattress; her upper body lay flat while her legs dangled over the edge. Ning Wang continued his advances, slipping his legs between hers, forcing them apart. Then, his slender hand reached out, lifting the hem of her dress in a swift motion—one gentle tug, and her inner skirt easily slid down.
Qingge instinctively wanted to kick him away, but she exerted all her willpower to restrain herself.
Lying still on the mattress, she watched the canopy’s beads sway violently as if caught in a fierce storm. Her gaze drifted toward the center of the storm, where her slender ankles being lifted high, perching on Ning Wang’s shoulders, remains of torn fabric hanging from her calf. Some residual old scars still remained on her lower legs, but fortunately, Ning Wang was too focused to notice them.
Today, he wore a purple brocade robe, intricately crafted and exquisitely luxurious. The robe was still on him, perfectly intact, and he hadn’t even removed the belt; he had simply lifted the hem of the robe.
Suddenly, she noticed Ning Wang’s gaze shifted upward, landing on her face.
Their eyes met and tangled instantly. Qingge instinctively tried to look away, but he was forceful and domineering, staring at her without restraint.
…
Finally, he finished.
He seemed quite satisfied; his eyes narrowing slightly as they stayed entwined, his body held rigid in the afterglow of the intense pleasure.
Qingge lay still, eyes closed. She was acutely aware of his presence, both the scorching heat he’d just unleashed and the shifting shape that remained connected with her. This sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced before—turns out, when man and woman were connected in this way, it was as if they became almost one, able to feel each other’s presence with such intimate depth.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally let her go. Qingge lay exhausted on the mattress, her legs limp and soggy like noodles just fished out of the water, draping weakly over the edge of the bed.
Ning Wang removed his robe, and as the hem fluttered, his uneven breathing gradually steadied. His clothing remained impeccably neat, showing no trace of what had just transpired, except for the faint creases at the hem of his robe where the gorgeous fabric had been slightly pressed when his legs pushed against Qingge’s. Yet he still raised a hand, leisurely smoothing his finely embroidered collar.
As he adjusted himself, his long lashes lowered, his gaze settling on the captivating woman lying on the mattress. Feeling contented, he spoke, “Father Emperor’s bestowals have arrived today. You should take a look and choose whatever you like.”
…
Moments after Ning Wang departed, Luo Momo peeked in. Qingge pulled a brocade quilt over herself as the momo entered to help her with the bath. As Qingge carefully washed herself, her mind wandered: While Ning Wang was a bit rough at first, it fortunately got better later. But what about next time? If he came so frequently, would she be able to survive the next two months? Would it be worth to wait for the next 30,000 taels?
It didn’t actually hurt much. If she had to admit, there was even faint pleasure. But she didn’t enjoy it. She did not want to be treated like this by Ning Wang—she’d rather return to her former life as a secret guard.
‘Seems like I need to meet Ye Min as soon as possible and ask what’s his plan for me.’ Qingge made up her mind.
After washing up, she stepped out to find Luo Momo standing outside the bathing room, looking hesitant to speak. “If you have something to say, just say it,” Qingge didn’t even look at her.
Luo Momo sighed, “Your Highness, I’ve already inquired. His Highness has no concubines—he only visits you.”
To be precise, Ning Wang did not even keep a single bed-warming maid.1 Before his new bride entered the gate of his manor, the most enchanting female around Ning Wang was perhaps a magpie flying near the eaves.
“So?” Qingge was unimpressed. Nothing surprising there. Ning Wang was aloof, indifferent, and arrogant. He was unlike any other man, and normal standards could not be applied to him.
During her four years as a secret guard, Qingge had seen plenty of women drawn to Ning Wang’s allure, using all kinds of means to attract his attention. Once, the daughter of a high-ranking official tried to throw herself on Ning Wang. In response, he tugged at her dress, causing a rip and forcing her to flee while covering her face, drawing attention as she ran in humiliation.
The woman’s family demanded he take responsibility for ruining her reputation, which he mercilessly mocked, ‘She’s already disgraced, yet dreams of being my Wangfei? A shameless woman like that deserves nothing.’
Since then, noble ladies in the capital shuddered at the mention of Ning Wang.
Obviously, there were also plenty of maidservants who tried to approach him, only to receive his contempt and disdain. To him, they were of low status and foolishly presumptuous. Anyone daring to entertain such ambitions was swiftly dismissed or risked facing his wrath at the cost of their lives.
Thinking of this, Qingge recalled the intimate moments she had shared with Ning Wang.
If Ning Wang ever found out that she wasn’t actually the noble young lady of the Xiahou clan but merely a lowly secret guard under his command… he would probably vomit in disgust.
Of course, after that, he would certainly tear her to pieces.
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Sounds like Ning Wang is a tsundere. He couldn’t admit why he went to visit her. Tsk tsk.
Oh NO I was thinking/hoping that the descriptions were just sort of vague and euphemistic because of the style and some genre/cultural conventions. You’re telling me for HOURS there’s only ‘faint’ pleasure? You’re telling me he’s really really bad in bed and she has to put up with him trying to cow her into not moving or participating for hourrrrrrs oh god this is sorta mentally painful. Why do so many of these webnovels focus on how strenuous and like, burdensome the experience is, as if the woman has a moral failing if she org*sms. Usually I try to at least hope/guess/believe the woman is enjoying it despite the vague descriptions just revolving 110% around how he’s so annoying and full of stamina but come on T0T
HE NEEDS TO READ A BOOK! SOMEONE’S GRANNY NEEDS TO GIVE THEM THE RED PILLOW BOOK OR WHATEVER. SOMEONE SAVE THIS WOMAN BY GOD. At the very LEAST let her tell him he’s dogsh*t in bed before she bolts for the inevitable ‘chasing the wife’ plot arc. Ahhhhhhhh this poor girl.
I kinda see it as she resisting the pleasure than it being faint in total. She’s always trying to separate herself from the entire situation. Add to the fact of her background and their real relationship. This is the way I saw it though but you could be right 😂