Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 58

In her past life, after Juchen finally quieted down, some kind hearted man who had been bitten by her placed her on the bed and even tucked her in.

Song Mi felt he had exhausted a lifetime’s worth of goodwill tonight.

He wasn’t the type to nitpick over trivial matters, but he certainly believed in retribution. Standing by the bed now, he glared at the drunkard on the pillow. Her sleeping posture was unexpectedly docile eyes shut, nose peaceful completely devoid of her earlier defiance. A simmering fire burned in Song Mi’s chest, yet suddenly, he found no outlet for it.

All he could do was mentally note this debt against Minister Li before turning and pushing the door open.

Yuan Ruo had been waiting outside. The moment he saw his master, he dragged the man tied up behind the rock garden and presented him to Song Mi.

Song Mi gently closed the door and glanced at the figure before him. His brows instinctively furrowed.

The man bore a seventy to eighty percent resemblance to him, yet the moment they stood opposite each other, their contrasting temperaments became glaringly obvious.

Song Mi stared for a long moment before a flicker of clarity passed through his eyes.

Abruptly, the corner of his lips curled into a chilling smile. He had finally found a target for his anger.

Later, Juchen could never quite understand why the age-old tactic of using beauty as a trap a military strategist’s best move had not been deployed.

Xuyang’s plan, though somewhat unscrupulous, had seemed highly feasible. Yet, for some reason, it was never put into action.

It wasn’t until her patience wore thin that she finally asked Xuyang, who then lamented with a crestfallen face: Ever since Juchen’s visit, the Crane Manor had inexplicably been raided by the Court of Judicial Review the very next day. Even Lin Zongbai suffered unjust punishment and was slapped with a hefty fine.

This time, when the young courtesan returned with his zither, cradling the ancient instrument as he gracefully approached the door, he found the room still lit. He pushed the door ring, only to discover it wouldn’t budge.

Puzzled, he turned just as a figure swept past like the wind. Yuan Ruo frowned, scrutinized him for a long moment, then bound him once more and tossed him back behind the rock garden.

Not long after, the sound of a zither drifted from inside the room.

Its melody carried more spirit than any other music in the courtyard, so enchanting that even Princess Xuyang was drawn back. Originally, she had asked Juchen to evaluate the results of her “beauty trap” training, but upon hearing this performance, Xuyang herself couldn’t help but gasp in awe.

She hurried into the courtyard, only to find the song had just ended. Inside, candlelight flickered, casting the silhouettes of two figures one tall, one petite against the latticed window.

The shadows leaned against the jade mat, sharing a drink. Xuyang smirked, intending to join the revelry, but after taking two steps forward, she froze.

Somehow, as they drank, the two shadows had begun kissing.

Xuyang’s beautiful eyes widened. She stood rooted for a long moment before turning away.

Admittedly, the moonlight tonight was bewitching, and her uncle’s face was undeniably alluring. If A’Chen momentarily lost control, she could hardly blame her.

Besides, Juchen had already experienced intimacy between men and women. As for the one she had been fooling around with, she always insisted she needed more time yet after all this while, there had been no progress. Clearly, the man was a scoundrel who only wanted s3x without commitment.

Under such circumstances, if Juchen could broaden her horizons and not fixate on one person, sparing herself the torment of unrequited love, it would actually be a relief.

Piece by piece, Xuyang rationalized the shocking scene before her and tactfully withdrew.

Inside the room, Juchen was kissed until she arched backward, her tongue numb, her lips and teeth steeped in the fragrance of wine.

At the brink of suffocation, Song Mi finally released her. His thumb pressed against her swollen lips, brushing away the lingering moisture.

Juchen panted heavily, her breath labored, with two faint blushes blooming from within her cheeks like spring peaches reflected on white jade the wine had already seeped into her veins.
Song Mi pinched her feverish cheek, noticing her dazed gaze. “Do you want to rest on the bed?”

Through his pupils, Juchen caught a glimpse of the corner where a gauzy canopy lay open, the cushions plush and the brocade quilt soft, every detail beckoning her.

She did want to go. But if she tumbled onto it with him, tonight would surely be sleepless. Just recalling how she’d stirred up trouble by summoning that courtesan who resembled him this debt alone would be repaid in installments over several nights.

Juchen cleared her throat. “I’m not tired yet.”

“Oh? Then shall we keep drinking?”

She hesitated. “But you don’t like it when I drink.”

Song Mi’s mind flashed with images of her willful, drunken antics.

For safety’s sake, he truly disliked her drinking outside. But before him, he couldn’t help but crave the sight of her intoxicated.

“Have you ever shared a drink with me properly?”

Juchen fell silent for a moment, then, inevitably softening, obediently picked up the wine pot to refill their cups. Yet how could her tolerance compare to his? After a few rounds, she was already dizzy, while his face remained porcelain pale, not a trace of tipsiness to be found.

Indignant, she knew he was punishing her with wine. She didn’t dare refuse, but the more she drank, the bolder she grew leaning into his embrace, settling onto his lap, she reached up and began kneading his face, as if trying to rub color into it.

She’d never touched another man, so she had no standard for comparison, but his features were sharp, his skin smooth and fine, the texture delightful.

Song Mi didn’t grow a beard, shaving clean daily. Until she had touched him, Juchen had not realized there’d still be a faint, non prickly stubble, which, paired with his deep set eyes, gave the thrill of tugging a tiger’s whiskers.

As she kept kneading, Song Mi couldn’t hold back a scoff. “Had enough fun?”

A memory flickered in Juchen’s mind the first time she had entered this elegant chamber. Back then, she’d reached for this face too, but he’d narrowed his eyes and leaned away, his expression icy. “You never let me touch you before.”

“Did I?” He couldn’t recall a single instance in this lifetime where he’d denied her.

“You did. Stingy.”

Juchen pinched him. Earlier, her touch had been gentle, but now it was like kneading dough. Song Mi didn’t get angry, merely tilting his chin up to tease, “Even like this, you won’t leave a mark.”

“Then what will? You seem to have an ocean’s capacity you don’t even get drunk.” Juchen leaned closer, her gaze trailing from his brows to his lips before she sighed regretfully. “Seems even kissing you wouldn’t make you blush.”

She concluded, “You’re thick skinned.”

“How do you know it wouldn’t?”

“I’ve kissed you before.”

“That was after you got used to it.”

“Well, the first time I kissed you, did you blush?”

Song Mi thought back. He had felt his pulse quicken then, an unfamiliar heat rising to his face. “Yes.”

“Really? Why didn’t I notice?”

“You were far too drunk.”

“Not that drunk. I still managed to chase after you and pull you back.”

This was the first time she had voluntarily brought up that night the mistaken beginning between them. The scenes from that day resurfaced vividly before Song Mi’s eyes. His gaze darkened slightly as he restrained himself, but ultimately couldn’t hold back from asking, “If you hadn’t grabbed me that night would you have been with someone else?”

He tightened his grip around her waist slightly, leaving the question unfinished.

Juchen looked puzzled. “Why would I grab someone else? I was following you.”

The furrow between Song Mi’s brows relaxed as his lips curled again. “So Magistrate Li means you’d only have a one night stand with me?”

“Mm.”

“Then why are you here now?”

Juchen choked slightly. Lifting her head from where it had been resting against his chin, her clear black and white eyes met his with utmost seriousness. “This is purely out of curiosity without any ulterior motives whatsoever.”

“None?”

“Of course not.” Juchen lightly pinched the collar of his robe, reasoning with him. “I already have the real thing why would I need a counterfeit?”

The word “counterfeit” clearly struck a sensitive chord with Song Mi. He chewed on it mentally, tasting a long-suppressed bitterness, and let out a cold laugh. “And if you hadn’t gotten the ‘real thing’?”

“I still wouldn’t have.”

“Lying too seems you’re not that drunk after all.”

He reached for another wine jar to pour her more, but Juchen, noticing his disbelief, pressed down his indifferent hand. Sitting squarely on his lap, she argued her case earnestly.

Her eyes were wide open, but her words began looping clearly drunk, yet struggling to maintain sober composure to convince him, though long past coherence.

Song Mi said, “Then tell me why you’d definitely choose me. It’s not like we were that close.”

Juchen declared firmly, “We were close. Very close.”

“How so?”

The corner of his lips quirked up, but his brow remained coolly detached, his questioning tone devoid of warmth. Juchen stared fixedly, suddenly recalling that night after their dalliance, when she would shamelessly sought him out again. His icy demeanor when he told her “there will be no commitment” had been identical to now.

An inexplicable sense of grievance welled up in her. “Don’t you want to be with me? You clearly said you did.”

“I did?”

His raised eyebrows held pure skepticism. Juchen accused, “You did! You even said you wanted to marry me.”

“When did I say that?”

“You wrote it in your letter.”

“I wrote you a letter?”

Was she confusing him with Yuan Zheng? Song Mi’s eyes darkened suddenly he didn’t want to hear any more of this nonsense.

“You wrote it, but never gave it to me, so I never knew.” Juchen grabbed him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re a fool,” Juchen confirmed.

Now she was insulting him clearly entering the delirious phase.

Song Mi averted his gaze, not looking at her as his fingers threaded through her soft hair, ruffling it gently. “You’re drunk. Time for bed.”

“I’m not drunk,” Juchen insisted, shaking her head.

“Then have another drink with me?” A derisive snort escaped Song Mi as he lifted the wine jar to pour.

Juchen snatched it away. “Let me.”

Though this was their first time drinking together, she had been insistently pouring for him all evening unlike her usual lack of attentiveness. Song Mi couldn’t help asking, “Why won’t you let me pour?”

“I’m afraid you’ll tamper with it again.”

“What trickery?” Song Mi frowned tightly. In her eyes, was he really such an untrustworthy person? If he wanted to do anything to her, he wouldn’t need to resort to tricks.

Juchen fell silent for a moment, a glimmer of reminiscence flashing in his eyes, his expression revealing a deep, innate sorrow. Suddenly, his voice turned hoarse as he said, “We actually drank together once. Just once.”

It was the first time, and the last.

Song Mi furrowed his brows, having no recollection whatsoever. “When?”

Juchen lowered her head without answering, only setting down the wine flask before leaning into his embrace, her hand resting on his abdomen.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

The question baffled Song Mi. He had only had a few cups of wine far from enough to make him uncomfortable. “No.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Really, it doesn’t hurt,” Song Mi chuckled.

Juchen’s nose tingled with emotion as she nuzzled against the fabric of his robe and fell silent.

The silence stretched on for so long that Song Mi thought she had drifted off to sleep. His arm around her waist tightened slightly as he prepared to rise and carry her to the bed to rest.

Then, Juchen’s limp hand suddenly lifted, gripping the fabric over his heart.

A dry, quiet voice emerged from his embrace:
“What did the wine you drank for me taste like?”