Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 631: Inseparable and Indistinguishable

Zhao Changhe carried Tang Wanzhuang openly into the inner palace.

The inner palace had a hot spring pool reserved exclusively for the emperor. Xia Longyuan, however, had never once used it—he existed above mortal concerns, untouched by dust or sweat. The only person who ever used the bath was the late empress, who had long since been executed. Even Huangfu Qing, despite her status as an imperial noble consort, had never set foot in it. In theory, without a direct decree, she was not permitted to use it.

Yet despite its disuse, a dedicated staff was still in charge of cleaning and changing the water daily. Steam swirled around everywhere, and stepping inside felt like entering a paradise—far surpassing the Huaqing Hot Springs[1] of the modern world.

Palace maids dressed in sheer gauze knelt by the mist-shrouded waters, their eyes flicking timidly toward Zhao Changhe as he entered carrying Tang Wanzhuang. They bowed, waiting silently, while trays of fresh fruit sat beside the pool, a tableau of decadence and luxury.

This is why men dream of becoming emperors.

At this moment, Zhao Changhe seemed more an emperor than Xia Chichi herself. After all, the empress dowager certainly did not heed Xia Chichi’s orders; if anything, she was more likely to put the young empress to work copying texts. But the empress dowager did belong to Zhao Changhe.

Yet, just as Xia Longyuan had no need for such indulgence, neither did Zhao Changhe. Without genuine affection, it all felt meaningless. If he sought women for pleasure alone, he hardly needed the imperial palace—there were countless noblewomen and wandering heroines eager to offer themselves to him.

He glanced briefly at the demure palace maids clad in gauze, but no spark of interest crossed his mind. He ordered, “Leave us”

The maids hesitated for a heartbeat—whether with relief or disappointment, they themselves weren’t sure—then bowed and withdrew.

Tang Wanzhuang, still in his arms, lifted her gaze shyly, then turned her head to the side. She said softly, “Bring Baoqin here for me.”

A voice answered from outside. “Yes.”

Zhao Changhe chuckled. “What, do you expect me to indulge in such debauchery? Even if I did, I wouldn’t do it in front of you.”

She didn’t fully grasp his meaning, but context was enough. Instead, she murmured, “You mustn’t lose your resolve... Huangfu Qing’s influence hasn’t yet permeated every corner of the palace. There may still be spies here...”

“Alright, alright...” he said, half-laughing, half-exasperated. Then, deliberately teasing her, he added, “But now there’s no one left to attend to us. What shall we do?”

Tang Wanzhuang bit her lower lip, turning her head away. “Put me down... I-I will attend to you...”

Seeing her cheeks flush as she spoke such words, her shyness, wrapped in quiet determination, filled him with delight. He sat by the edge of the pool, settling her gently across his lap. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “I think... it should be I who serves the First Seat.”

That whispered suggestion ignited a deeper blush, spreading down to her neck. The mist of the hot spring curled around them, a veil for her embarrassment. She squirmed in his arms, protesting, “You... you... even now, you’re still teasing me...”

But her feeble struggle could not escape his grasp. Before she realized it, her sash had already been deftly loosened.

Tang Wanzhuang let out a soft gasp, her hand instinctively moving to cover herself. He’s far too skilled at this, she thought, both indignant and flustered.

Her slender hand was caught gently in his grasp. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Are you feeling warm? Then let this disciple of yours help his master disrobe.”

Tang Wanzhuang was speechless.

How many layers of teasing does he have prepared?

Wrapped in a thick marten coat, she did indeed feel the rising heat of the mist-laden hot spring. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, though she was not sure how much was from embarrassment and how much was from the heat of the bath.

Her hand slackened, allowing him to slip the coat from her shoulders. Beneath, her inner garments were a pristine white, simple yet elegant.

“Rebellious disciple...” Her voice trembled as a strange panic fluttered in her heart. Her slender fingers clenched tightly at her sides, but she offered no real resistance as he continued to undo her layers.

Zhao Changhe’s gaze was unwavering, drinking in the sight before him.

He had known carefree swordswomen and cunning enchantresses, but Wanzhuang was unlike any of them. Her beauty was unparalleled—hailed by most as the finest in the land. While some might argue that her frailty and noble status enhanced this perception, her most captivating quality was a unique grace that belonged solely to her.

It was this singular elegance that made her most alluring when her composure was unraveling.

His fingers grazed her skin, cool and smooth as jade. At the first touch, Tang Wanzhuang shivered slightly, her voice a soft plea, “Stop toying with me...”

She knew he was savoring the moment as if admiring a delicate work of art.

Zhao Changhe chuckled softly. “I’m only checking if you’ve washed properly...”

Tang Wanzhuang glared at him, her frustration evident. “You...”

Before she could finish, her garments fluttered into the air, vanishing into the mist, and Zhao Changhe swept her into his arms, plunging them both into the steaming water with a resounding splash.

The sudden heat of the spring drew a muffled gasp from her lips, swallowing whatever protest she had in mind.

In his palm, warmth radiated from her, hotter than the water itself, sinking deep into her veins.

Tang Wanzhuang’s heart stirred. Despite the teasing, Zhao Changhe had not forgotten their true purpose: her healing.

Reluctantly, she turned her eyes to meet his. In his gaze, she found tenderness and care.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Her eyes grew misty, hazier than the steam that curled around them.

She shifted slightly in his arms, her strength melting away. Leaning against him, she reached out with her slender hand to wash him, muttering, “You’re the one who isn’t clean...” @@novelbin@@

Zhao Changhe laughed. “Then clean me, won’t you?”

Her fingers moved over his skin, gentle and deliberate. Slowly, she raised her flushed lips to press a soft kiss against his neck. “You’re the one who insisted on playing... After all, it is my duty to serve you...”

In the veiled haze of steam, their breaths mingled, the air growing heavy with intimacy.

Zhao Changhe’s thoughts drifted, the scene so surreal it felt like a dream. It felt more fantastical than the visions of his old classroom, more intoxicating than any illusion conjured by the Heavenly Tome.

And yet, it was real.

It was a moment that made one want to fall deeper, never to wake again.

There was even a quiet fear that waking might mean returning to the confines of his old classroom.

Why bother thinking so much? Isn’t Wanzhuang real and warm in my arms right now, willing to be held, to be cherished?

Lowering his head, he found Tang Wanzhuang’s lips and kissed her deeply.

Her movements stilled, and her eyes drifted shut.

He could feel the tension in his muscles, his embrace tightening as though he wanted to merge her into himself completely. Tang Wanzhuang, inexperienced, mistook it as a sign of rising passion and whispered nervously, “I’m frail... please, be gentle...”

Zhao Changhe’s breath quickened, his voice low and hoarse. “Wanzhuang...”

“Hmm?”

“Sometimes I’m afraid... that all of this is just a dream.”

She paused, her gaze softening. Her arms encircled his neck, and she murmured tenderly, “If you possess it, then it becomes real.”

Outside, Baoqin scratched her head, hesitating at the sound of muffled voices. She was not sure if she should enter. Something felt off.

Why is it so quiet in there...? Could that damned bear of a man actually be... incapable?

Just as she was pondering this, a delicate gasp floated out—soft and sweet, like a songbird’s trill.

Baoqin backed away, plopped down on a cushioned bench, and stared up at the ceiling, knees drawn to her chest.

Her young miss had finally grown up. The thought filled her with bittersweet resignation.

Well, it seems there’s nothing left to do tonight. Time for me to sleep.

Surely they wouldn’t call me in to... clean up afterward? The young miss has never been one for such indignities. But that bear of a man... well, who knows?

* * *

In truth, Zhao Changhe was not so crude. That night, neither of them left the hot spring.

No matter how many tender caresses or lingering glances they shared, the night’s true purpose was healing. When their energies finally merged in perfect harmony, the effects of their dual cultivation far surpassed the hesitant exchanges of breath they had shared before.

Of course, if they had tried this technique earlier, it would have been useless. The necessary medicines had not been available, and Zhao Changhe’s Rejuvenation Art had not been advanced enough.

After the trials on Skyrim Island, his Rejuvenation Art had reached a miraculous level. With the power of faith, he had even pulled Lady Three back from the brink of the destruction of her soul and healed wounds inflicted by the Sea God’s Trident—a divine weapon. Compared to that, Tang Wanzhuang’s condition was far less severe.

Her ailment was a chronic affliction, a sickness long embedded in her bones. Her constitution had weakened to the point that even cold weather was unbearable. Her body was riddled with hidden maladies that needed meticulous care to heal. Complete recovery would take time, but it was no longer impossible—it was simply a matter of patience and dedication.

Patience, in this context, referred to physical persistence.

They stayed immersed in the hot spring from afternoon until nightfall. Eventually, exhaustion overtook them, and they drifted into a deep sleep, still cradled in each other’s arms.

It was the first time that dual cultivation left Zhao Changhe not invigorated, but utterly drained. Yet even in slumber, they clung to each other, peaceful smiles playing on their lips.

When they awoke in the dead of night, the water was still warm, fed by the earth’s natural heat.

Tang Wanzhuang remained nestled against him, her breathing soft and even. Perhaps this was the deepest, most restful sleep she had had in years.

Zhao Changhe gazed down at her, unable to resist brushing a kiss across her lips. “To wake from a dream and find it still real... It truly is wonderful.”

At that moment, he even forgot his original purpose upon entering this world—the desire to return home.

Like a drop of water falling from the heavens into a tranquil pool, he had merged with this reality, inseparable, indistinguishable.

1. The Huaqing Hot Springs are a complex of hot springs located in an area characterized by mild weather and scenic views at the northern foot of Mount Li, one of the three major peaks of the Qinling. ☜