Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 25

As the dance concluded, Xuyang couldn’t help but applaud in admiration, exclaiming, “How did I suddenly feel that in the end, it should have been Emperor Ming who died?”

Yuan Zheng chuckled. “It’s just that they danced so well, making us feel as if we were part of it.”

The others in the pavilion followed suit with applause and praise.

Song Mi leaned against her slender, pale arm, opening her eyes to the sight of her faintly visible waistline.

Juchen was still dazed when the person in her arms suddenly pushed herself up, giving her a cool glance before saying in a low voice, “Go change.”

The two retreated together, heading to a private room downstairs to change clothes.

This time, Juchen walked ahead while Song Mi followed slowly behind, no longer deliberately keeping pace with her.

As they turned the corner of the corridor, Song Mi abruptly turned back, pressing her head against his chest and using all her strength to pin him against the pillar in the corner, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He abruptly lifted his chin.

Denying her success.

Juchen accidentally bumped against his Adam’s apple and quickly reached out to touch it. “Does it hurt?”

Song Mi seized her hand, his eyes darkening even more in the night as he said coldly, “Didn’t you not want it anymore?”

Or was it that, upon hearing Yuan Zheng wasn’t a virgin, she felt upset and came running to him in self-abandonment?

Seeing his indifferent expression, Juchen’s boldness from earlier shrank back. She stood before him, flustered, lightly biting her lower lip.

That night, he must have waited for her for a long time.

And she had broken her promise.

For someone as busy as him, free time was hard-won. He wasn’t some courtesan by the Yaojin Pond, available for her to visit on a whim and discard when she lost interest.

When caught up in their own grievances, people often struggle to consider others’. Only now did Juchen realize the bitter taste of reaping what she had sown.

She quietly inhaled, then carefully apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Her voice was soft, carrying a faint hint of a sob upon closer listening.

To Song Mi’s ears, his brow furrowed slightly, as if he were the one who had wronged her. Yet all he had done was deny her that impulsive kiss.

His continued silence made Juchen anxious. She wanted to defend herself, but after opening her mouth and meeting his cold gaze, she felt she deserved it.

He was not bound to her why should he indulge her.

The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Her nose tingled with the threat of tears, and in a moment of self-abandonment, she released his arm, lowered her head, took two steps back, and turned to leave.

After rounding another corner and reaching her changing room, Juchen sniffled and pushed the door open. Just as she stepped inside, a hand suddenly seized her wrist from behind.

Song Mi shut the door, turned, and pinned her hands above her head. His tall frame pressed close as he mimicked her earlier move, trapping her firmly against the door.

Upstairs, the lively chatter continued.

Xuyang played another round of “pass the flower,” but Juchen still had not returned.

Remembering the wine Juchen had drunk earlier, Xuyang grew concerned and wanted to go look for her. However, she had also consumed quite a bit during the arrow tossing game, and the alcohol was now hitting her. As she stood, her steps wavered slightly.

Seeing her unsteady, Yuan Zheng pulled her back into her seat. “This is your home which means it’s hers too. How could she possibly get lost?”

Xu Yang cautiously said, “But she just had a drink earlier. She has a low alcohol tolerance what if some villain takes advantage of her in this state.”

“Who would dare?” Yuan Zheng frowned, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “This mansion is full of your trusted old servants. As for outside men, most are gathered here already. The only one not present do you really think he’s that kind of person?”

Xu Yang hesitated for a moment before nodding. “You’re right.”

The drumbeats sounded again, pounding against the loft’s floorboards, their vibrations spreading downward to the private rooms below.

One rapid thud after another, like the frantic rhythm of Juchen’s heartbeat at this moment.

In the dressing room at the end of the first floor corridor, the door was locked from inside. The room was dim, illuminated only by slivers of moonlight seeping through the door crack and the cold, star like gleam in a man’s eyes.

With a tug and a pull, the dancer’s costume pooled around the young woman’s waist. A single grasp and the snowy peaks completely lost their shape.

Song Mo’s hands were large, cradling and kneading without pause.

Juchen sat atop a high cabinet by the door, waves of tingling numbness rising along her spine until her mind turned to mush.

The man leaned in, his straight nose burying into the snow-white curve of her neck, planting featherlight kisses careful not to leave marks. His downward glance caught sight of two plum blossoms blooming delicately upon a snowy ridge.

Xu Yang had not been wrong she was indeed generously endowed.

Whether all men possessed this innate skill or if he simply had a particular talent for pleasing her, she didn’t know. With just touches and kisses, he had her teetering on the edge of breathlessness.

Juchen gasped lightly, her body trembling. When her knee accidentally brushed against him, the familiar, unmistakable sensation made her heart race faster than the drumbeats echoing through the floorboards. Instinctively, her hands moved to undo his clothes.

Song Mo’s gaze darkened his Adam’s apple bobbing. Clinging to rationality, he caught her wrist. “Does Lord Li wish to conceive before marriage?”

This was not Ciyou Villa no incense burned here, no contraceptive sachets hung from the bed curtains.

Juchen parted her lips, about to say her monthly courses were due soon and pregnancy was unlikely, but the words died on her tongue. She feared he might think she was scheming to secure her position through pregnancy.

Softly, she murmured, “Our first time didn’t result in.”

Song Mo’s expression briefly froze before melting into helpless amusement. He couldn’t resist pinching her cheek. “You’d cling to that coincidence?”

Besides, that first time, worried she might suffer too much, he hadn’t even.

A flush spread across Juchen’s face like rouge as she leaned against his shoulder. Rarely given to self-reflection, she now realized how wanton her earlier words must have sounded. Yet tonight, she had been the one to initiate. With reddened ears, she glanced down, unwilling to see him suffer, hesitantly reaching to help with her hands.

At the barest touch, Song Mo’s eyes grew even darker. He swiftly recaptured her hand, pressing it against his chest as he commanded sternly, “Kiss me.”

Juchen tilted her head up, cradling his face before closing her eyes and offering her lips resolutely.

They always kissed Juchen often initiated too but without fail, Song Mo would take control as it deepened. Unlike his usual composed demeanor, his kisses were aggressive, brimming with possessiveness, always leaving Juchen utterly defenseless.

This was the first time he let her lead. And her kiss soft, inexperienced was like a young fruit from the thicket, falling into a clear mountain spring.

She kissed him earnestly, with great effort.

Song Mo was undoubtedly pleased. In the brief pause between breaths, a faint, amused snort escaped her nose, her mood lifting considerably. “So obedient?”

“You don’t like it?” Juchen paused, catching her breath, her lips damp and flushed.

Song Mo pinched her cheek, his voice low. “So obedient, yet still stood me up.”

Clearly, he hadn’t moved past it. He expressed reconciliation through actions, yet used words to settle the score afterward.

Juchen was caught off guard by the accusation, momentarily speechless. How could she explain? Admit she had been behind the curtain that day?

Say she didn’t want to cut ties, so her pride was wounded? Would he think her troublesome? After all, in the beginning, she was the one who promised to leave gracefully once he married and had children.

Juchen felt wronged but didn’t dare speak the truth. Her eyes suddenly grew moist. She could only cling to his shoulders, hesitating for a long moment before murmuring hoarsely, “Why didn’t you wear the clothes I gave you?”

Song Mo fell abruptly silent.

Juchen pressed closer to his chest. “You didn’t like them.”

Song Mo replied, “No.”

“Then why?”

“Because… Marquis Yuan has the same one.”

Juchen jerked her head up. “What?”

“You didn’t know?”

She sniffled. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

What she meant was, she hadn’t even known he’d commissioned a new cloak.

But to Song Mo’s ears, her slightly nasal tone carried the grievance of a day apart feeling like years. His gaze darkened, and he gave the soft swell of her br3ast a sharp pinch.

Juchen let out a confused whimper, laced with a hint of coquetry, as if teasing him further.

Song Mo bent down and kissed her again. Juchen was soon overwhelmed by the insistent play of his lips and tongue, tilting back until she nearly hit the door. He shielded the back of her head with his hand.

Her heart melted at his tenderness only to be swiftly drowned in another breath-stealing kiss.

He gripped the nape of her neck, refusing her even a moment’s escape. Again and again, he kissed her until she gasped for air, only to grant her brief respite at the brink of unconsciousness. Over and over, he kept her suspended between torment and pleasure.

So, she’d made him suffer the indignity of matching outfits.

For someone as distinguished as him, the mere thought of such a scene was unbearable to Juchen.

Finally, during one of the rare moments he allowed her to catch her breath, she seized the chance to explain. “I didn’t mean to. I truly didn’t know he owned that piece.”

Her eyes were reddened from his kisses, from the lack of air glistening as they locked onto his, clear as twin pools of spring water. Her obsidian pupils reflected only the sharp contours of his face.

The longer Song Mo looked, the more he wanted to cover those eyes. As if only then could he ensure he wouldn’t be bewitched by her.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to. Couldn’t bear to hide the way she gazed at him alone.

With a low chuckle, he mocked his own weakness. Even if it was a lie, a sweet deception, he’d believe it as long as she was the one coaxing him.

“It’s fine.” Song Mo lifted his thumb, brushing the reddened skin of her eyelid.

Eager to make amends, Juchen kissed him again, taking the lead this time.

Their bodies pressed closer. Juchen sat atop the high table, her toes barely grazing the floor, while Song Mo stood before her, responding to her kisses with alternating depth. His palm trailed downward, fingertips glistening with moisture.

Juchen’s face flushed crimson, and she instinctively pressed her legs together, but he suddenly blocked her with his wrist.

“Let go,” he murmured in a husky voice, both coaxing and commanding.

Juchen’s shoulders trembled slightly as she prepared to obey.

Knock, knock, knock

“Ah Chen?”

The familiar voice of Yuan Zheng, accompanied by the sound of knocking, suddenly came from outside.

Juchen’s body stiffened instantly, her eyes widening in shock. Her already erratic heartbeat threatened to leap out of her throat as she looked up at Song Mi in panic.

Yet he refused to back away instead, he grew even more relentless.

Juchen’s beautiful eyes widened further.

Standing outside, Yuan Zheng saw no light coming from the dressing room and scratched his head in confusion.

He turned to search elsewhere, but as he did, a faint thud suddenly came from inside the room like the sound of a small table colliding with the door.

Yuan Zheng’s gaze sharpened. He reached for the door handle and called out once more before pushing it open, “Ah Chen? Are you in there?”

“Yes!”