Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 45

The wind brushed through the treetops, bamboo leaves rustling like waves rising and falling in an endless green tide.

Song Mo’s deep eyes gleamed like cold stars in the night, yet they still held the usual tender amusement he reserved for her. But the tightening grip of his hand on her waist silenced Juchen’s usually quick tongue.

Suddenly, she didn’t dare lie to him.

Juchen bit her lip. “Five cups.”

At least she was honest about the number.

Song Mo scoffed, his gaze darkening as he looked down at her. His fingers traced idle circles at her waist. “Did my words from earlier just go in one ear and out the other?”

Earlier that day, Juchen had returned to the yamen with a jar of aged liquor gifted by the villagers, only for him to confiscate it immediately. Before the banquet, he had repeatedly warned her and Yong’an since they were young women to be cautious when drinking outside and never exceed one cup.

Yet here she was, nodding obediently to his face, only to forget everything the moment his back was turned.

Juchen murmured, “The ladies’ table served fruit wine. It wasn’t strong.”

Even as she said it, she knew it was a flimsy excuse. The people of Jiangyang were master brewers, notorious for their love of liquor. Even their so called “fruit wine” was potent enough to knock out the uninitiated.

Song Mo took in her flushed cheeks and ears, her glazed eyes shimmering like star reflecting lakes. Pressed against the railing, she clung to his neck, her grip unsteady clear signs she was far drunker than she would admit.

Juchen caught his scrutinizing look and, with a pinkened face, insisted it was all because of his earlier teasing beneath her clothes.

That might have played a part, but it wasn’t the whole story. The alcohol undoubtedly fueled her next words: “Why won’t you let me drink? You won’t let me control you, yet you control me?”

Her usually docile, doe like eyes now glared defiantly.

Song Mo couldn’t help but chuckle. Truly, liquor emboldened the timid here she was, dredging up old grievances.

Old habits died hard. Five cups in, her stubbornness and that lingering defiance she had always harbored against him bubbled to the surface.

He pinched her earlobe. “Mainly because you’re a terrible drunk.”

“Am I?”

A flicker of memory passed through his eyes. “Yes.”

Juchen tightened her arms around his neck, lips parting to demand proof, but he sealed them with his own, cutting off any further argument.

Her mouth had been open to speak, granting him easy access as his tongue swept in, drowning her protests in the heat between them.

Her heart hammered wildly, fingers clutching the collar of his robe.

At first, his movements were almost predatory, sweeping over every inch until she was left breathless. Just as she was about to push him away in irritation, he withdrew with perfect timing, shifting tactics to gentle, tender touches pure and moving like a young boy’s affection. A few teasing licks and sucks were enough to leave her utterly dazed.

The air around Juchen’s lips grew thinner, her breaths filled with his scent.

She closed her eyes, silently yielding to him, feeling their heartbeats fall out of rhythm.

The intoxicating night around them blurred like ink spreading in water, their ragged breaths intertwining. Juchen’s entire body grew weak, her legs trembling. Song Mi supported the back of her head with one hand while the other steadied her swaying waist.

Clutching at him like driftwood in a storm, she steadied herself with his strength, about to exhale in relief when a sudden shiver ran through her, her toes curling uncontrollably.

The hand at her waist loosened, slipping beneath the hem of her robe.
He truly loved to play, the kind of indulgence that refused to let go.

Juchen clenched her jaw, her hands which had been looped around his neck slowly sliding down to grip the edges of the bench, fingers curling into tight fists.

Song Mi pressed a light kiss to her eyelids, stealing a glance at her in the pause. Juchen was beautiful, but hers was a pure beauty, devoid of any seductive charm. Had he not experienced it himself, no one would believe that such an innocent, guileless face concealed a body that could drive a man to madness.

Enough to make one burn to ashes upon her.

He trailed kisses from the corner of her eye, down to the tip of her nose, her chin, then her collarbone. Seeing her surrender completely, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “So obedient?”

Her body complied, but her mind resisted. She turned her face away with a soft huff. “At least this way, you won’t criticize my technique again.”

“So avoiding action means avoiding blame you’ve got a real talent for bureaucracy, huh?”

Their eyes met, and Juchen glared back. “I’m never like this in official matters.”

No wonder he said she was a bad drinker. After alcohol, Juchen truly spoke more boldly and bluntly than usual.

Seeing the amusement brimming in his eyes, she grew even bolder, muttering, “You say my technique is bad, but it’s not like you were skilled from the start either.”

The words struck a chord. Song Mi froze for a moment, his lips tightening slightly as he pulled her closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That first time you weren’t comfortable?”

“I was but I could still tell you were inexperienced. You just learned faster much faster than me.” Juchen pouted slightly, unwilling to concede. “Maybe men are just born with a natural vulgarity in these matters.”

In her past life, she would never have believed that the lofty Prince of Pengshan could be like this in bed.

She was actually mocking him. Song Mi tapped her forehead with a curled finger. “You’re just lazy.”

Juchen’s lips twitched as she stared at him. “Then teach me?”

With a smirk, she took advantage of his momentary distraction, flipping over to straddle him. Her hand slid down, reaching for the belt at his waist.

Only to be caught firmly.

Perched atop him, the sensations became unmistakable. Despite the heat coursing through his veins, he maintained a composed expression, speaking seriously. “Not here.”

The wind was picking up, and sweating now would risk a chill. Besides, he couldn’t guarantee no one would come looking.

“Not allowed?”

“No.”

“So you do have principles. I thought you’d do it anywhere.”

Her words carried a hint of dissatisfaction, revealing the grievances she had long suppressed under his authority always angry but never daring to speak out, now unleashed by the influence of alcohol.

Song Mo couldn’t help but chuckle.

Juchen had only acted wild at the peak of her drunkenness. As the effects faded, she slumped against his chest, eyelids growing heavy as her thoughts wandered freely. Mumbling whatever came to mind, she murmured, “Why not? Haven’t books described scenes of sneaking into groves?”

“What books?”

She even had the decency to blush, whispering, “I read some romance novels in my youth.”

Juchen, too, had once been a young girl, curious about love like any other, devouring tales of scholars and beauties.

“So, Lady Li understood so much even at such a tender age?”

Lying against him, she felt the deep rumble of his voice vibrate through his chest with each word.

Defeated, she confessed honestly, “No. Every time they entered the grove, the book would just skip to dawn. At first, I didn’t even understand what it meant.”

“You didn’t understand?”

Juchen nodded emphatically. “Mhm.”

“But that book you left in the food box last time didn’t seem to have that kind of plot.”

Her eyes flew open as she lifted her head from his chest, glaring up at him.

“Are you really bringing that up again?”

Song Mo burst into laughter. Even she had to admit his face, when smiling at a woman, was truly a lethal weapon. The fiercest anger would melt away under his gentle, breezy grin.

Juchen let it go, resting her head back on his shoulder. Half-asleep, she barely registered his murmur: “Come later.”

Come for what? Sneak into the grove? Or learn techniques?

Before she could ask, she had already drifted into deep slumber in his arms.

By the time Yong’an and Lu Feng approached the rear garden in search of them, Yong’an glanced around only to spot her uncle’s tall figure emerging from around the corridor corner. As they drew closer, the dim glow of the lanterns under the eaves gradually illuminated the girl draped over his back.

Juchen lay against him, her delicate lotus-like face buried in the crook of his neck, fast asleep.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the latticed window, casting golden streaks across the bed curtains.

Juchen stirred awake, her head throbbing from the hangover. Fragmented memories of the previous night flickered in her mind so disjointed they might as well have been dreams. She lay facing the wall, piecing them together, before rolling over like a wandering ghost.

The moment she turned, she met Yong’an’s gaze.

Yong’an sighed. “Sister Juchen, you’re finally awake.”

Juchen rubbed her temples. “Mhm.”

“We should head back now.”

“Huh?”

“You drank too much last night you didn’t even wash up before passing out.

Let’s go bathe.”

Juchen blinked in confusion. “Go back where?”

“To our own room.”

“Our room?”

She looked around, still disoriented. Yong’an kindly clarified, “This is Uncle’s room.”

Juchen bolted upright, suddenly unwilling to face reality. But the harder she resisted, the clearer the memories surfaced. So it wasn’t a dream? She really had climbed onto him in the bamboo pavilion, called him shameless, and talked about sneaking into groves.

Watching her face pale, Yong’an pressed her fists together. “Are you trying to pretend nothing happened?”

“…”

Yong’an, afraid of misunderstanding her intentions, deliberately recounted the entire incident for her. “Do you want to forget that you got drunk on your way to change clothes and were picked up by Uncle while he was taking a stroll? Or do you want to forget how you refused to go back to your room after waking up, insisting on pointing to Uncle’s room and saying you wanted to sleep there, forcing him to give up his room for you? Or perhaps you’d rather forget how you asked Uncle why he wouldn’t lie down with you, and how you clung to his sleeve, saying you were too weak to move and demanded he bathe you?”

Juchen closed her eyes in despair. Apart from the first sentence, which was clearly a lie Song Mi had fabricated for them, she wished she could forget everything else.

“Actually, it’s not so bad. I don’t think he was angry. Uncle is older than us and won’t take your nonsense seriously. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“……”

Was that really the issue here? It was her dignity, her modesty, her integrity all gone without a trace.

Even after Yong’an led her back to her room, helped her change, washed up, and styled her hair, Juchen sat in front of the bronze mirror for a full hour, still unable to recover.

She couldn’t dwell on it any longer. Juchen rubbed her face, gathered her resolve, and decided to adopt Yong’an’s advice pretend nothing had happened.

Summoning her courage, she stood up and pushed open the door. Just as she stepped into the corridor, two male figures appeared side by side, walking leisurely toward her from the other end.

Lu Feng, seeing she had finally awakened, greeted her with concern. Juchen murmured her thanks but kept her head bowed low.

Song Mi stood nearby with his hands behind his back, glancing at her.

Noticing her expression had returned to normal, he was about to speak when Juchen, sensing his intent, didn’t even give him the chance to start. She hastily made an excuse and walked straight past him.

But the wind refused to spare her, carrying their conversation from behind.

Lu Feng chuckled. “Does she remember the nonsense she spouted at you last night? Is she embarrassed now?”

Then came Song Mi’s reply, carried by the cool breeze to her ears. He said nothing only let out a derisive laugh at the sight of her fleeing figure.

At this point, even if she wanted to pretend she didn’t remember, her stiffened steps had already given her away.