The Bad Guys: Everyone, let’s revive the Tang Dynasty together!

Chapter 506

The three of them, the Empress and Ji Ruxue, traveled until midnight. The two women were exhausted, but Xiao Yan was wide awake. So he went to the Imperial Study to review the memorials.

The study was brightly lit by candles, but only one was burning, and the light was carefully controlled to a soft level.

Zhong Xiaokui was somewhat surprised to see Xiao Yan get up so early, but she didn't ask any questions. She simply brought over a pile of memorials as Xiao Yan had instructed.

Xiao Yan, dressed only in a plain undergarment, sat at his desk by the window, reviewing several documents sent from the Secretariat, which were summaries of the preliminary performance evaluations of officials in various prefectures and counties throughout the country over the past year.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and calmly scanned the lines of names and comments. Occasionally, the red brush would fall, either circling or annotating with the word "observe".

The door slid open silently a crack, then quietly closed again.

Qianwu quietly appeared in the Imperial Study.

She changed into a soft, white nightgown, over which she wore a light, smoky gray gauze robe as thin as a cicada's wing. Her long, black hair was loosely tied up and secured with a simple wooden hairpin, with a few stray strands falling beside her neck, adding to her languid beauty. She walked quietly behind Xiao Yan, her gaze falling on the slightly stiff lines of his shoulders and neck.

A pair of incredibly soft hands quietly rested on Xiao Yan's shoulders. The fingertips applied just the right amount of pressure, precisely pressing and kneading his tense shoulder and neck muscles.

"Your Majesty," Qianwu's voice was extremely low, like a whisper, his breath brushing against Xiao Yan's earlobe, carrying a warm, moist sensation.

Her voice was calm and gentle. She didn't ask Xiao Yan why he wasn't sleeping in the middle of the night. She just gently pressed Xiao Yan's shoulder with her fingers, sometimes light and sometimes heavy, to relieve the fatigue that Xiao Yan had accumulated from days of running around and his tense mind.

Xiao Yan closed his eyes, savoring the comfort brought by those skillful hands. His tense nerves relaxed little by little, as if being soaked in warm water. He put down the vermilion brush, leaned back in the wide chair, and let out a barely audible sigh. The elegant scent of soapberry mixed with the fragrance of Qian Wu's post-bath lingered in his nostrils.

He raised his hand without turning around, but placed it on the back of Qianwu's hand that was resting on his shoulder. Then, with a bit of force, he enveloped her slender fingers and gently pulled them.

Qianwu obediently followed his pull, her body lightly spinning into his embrace. There was no resistance whatsoever, only a natural and inevitable feeling.

She nestled obediently against his chest, tilting her face up. In the interplay of moonlight and candlelight, his image was reflected in her clear eyes, gentle as water.

She took the initiative to raise her arms and wrap them around his neck. Her soft lips, with a tentative shyness, pressed firmly against his lips.

Xiao Yan responded to her burning desire, which she had been suppressing for a long time. He held her slender waist tightly with one hand, and with the other hand, he reached under the thin layer of smoky gray gauze and stroked her smooth and delicate back.

The skin beneath his palm was slightly cool, but instantly warmed up at his touch. Qianwu's breathing quickened abruptly, a soft, sweet moan escaping her throat. Her body trembled slightly in his arms, not from nervousness, but from an instinctive reaction of passion. She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, tilting her head back to receive his slightly rough kisses, responding passionately.

Xiao Yan picked her up and carried her to the bed in the study.

The curtains fell silently, blocking out the faint light and sound from the outside world, creating a private space around the bed for just the two of them.

The brocade quilt was soft and she sank into it, her long, black hair spreading out, which made her aloof and extremely regal face reveal a touch of charm.

Xiao Yan's kisses were no longer urgent, but rather fell gently and softly on her brow, eyelids, and neck, as if soothing a treasure that had not been cherished for a long time.

Qianwu completely opened herself up, surrendering her body and soul, yielding to his pleasure. Every subtle movement and suppressed breath spoke of unspoken submission and satisfaction.

She is his haven, his comfort zone, and a gentle haven where he can unload all his burdens at any time.

After a long while, the storm-like waves finally receded slowly.

Xiao Yan leaned against the headboard, his chest rising and falling slightly, his eyes closed as he rested. Qian Wu lay beside him, her cheek pressed against his sweaty chest, breathing softly. Silence flowed within the tent, broken only by the rhythmic beatings of their gradually calming hearts.

A moment later, Qianwu gently propped herself up. Her light gauze nightgown had already slipped down during their passionate embrace, revealing her smooth, rounded shoulders and a beautiful collarbone. She didn't rush to tidy herself up, but instead, as she had done countless nights before, she slid off the bed naturally, her bare feet touching the cool, smooth floor, and knelt silently before the bed.

She wrung out a clean, soft white towel from the warm copper basin beside her. The water was at the perfect temperature, steaming gently. She looked up at Xiao Yan with clear and open eyes, then bent down slightly to carefully clean up the remaining debris.

Her profile was sunken, appearing soft and focused in the dim light. Her long eyelashes drooped down, concealing all emotions in her eyes, leaving only a willing devotion.

"Your Majesty has been working hard these past few days," Qianwu said haltingly between swallows, her voice languid and hoarse, yet still clear and articulate, as if reporting a routine matter. "Tonight... she seems to still have some energy left? I observed that Sister Bago... since offering the dagger to acknowledge its master, her heart and soul have already belonged to Your Majesty, with no other thoughts. Her physique is far stronger than that of ordinary people, and her personality is also very straightforward, like fire and flame."

Without pausing, she continued, "If Your Majesty is still in the mood, why not summon her to serve you as well? It would be good for relieving your worries and fatigue, and helping you relax and unwind. I... can also accompany you."

Xiao Yan kept his eyes closed and did not respond immediately.

However, Qianwu's submissive kneeling posture, his frank and jealous suggestion, and the wild and unruly figure of Bago depicted in his words stirred his heart like a pebble thrown into calm water.

Bago's powerful, honey-colored skin, his exotic, wild charm, and his unreserved subservience, now that weariness had faded and his passion had reignited, exuded an irresistible allure. He raised his hand, his broad palm not resting on her bare shoulder, but rather, with the casualness of a master, gently stroking the top of Qianwu's hair, which appeared exceptionally smooth from her bowed posture. His fingertips ran through her slightly cool hair; the movement, though light, carried an unmistakable approval and acquiescence.

Qianwu immediately understood. She quickened her pace, tidying everything up neatly, then stood up and walked lightly to the door, whispering a few words to the outside.

Xiao Yan did not have to wait long.

The door to the Imperial Study was silently pushed open a crack once more, and a figure quietly slipped in.

Bago, with a look of surprise and delight on his face, stepped inside.

She was only wrapped in a thin, almost transparent gauze. The fiery red fabric, like a burning sunset, delicately wrapped around her firm breasts and rounded hips, revealing large swaths of her smooth, firm skin in the dim candlelight, gleaming with a healthy and alluring glow.

She was barefoot, with delicate gold rings on her slender ankles that made a barely audible, crisp sound as she walked. Her brown hair was not tied up, but cascaded down her bare shoulders and back like a waterfall. A few strands, damp with sweat or intentionally, clung to her long neck and heaving chest. Several small gold rings adorned her hair and earlobes, reflecting tiny golden glints with her movements.

Her face showed no shyness or unease, only an almost pilgrimage-like piety and fervent longing, which she directed straight at the tall figure by the window.

Bago pushed open the door and entered, his gaze sweeping over Qianwu, who was standing to the side putting on her thin gauze outer robe again. There was no surprise or resistance in his eyes, only a kind of "it should be this way" composure.

She walked straight behind Xiao Yan without making any extra sound, like the most docile yet wildest lamb, slowly bending her knees and crouching down.

She didn't speak, but gently rubbed her smooth, cool cheek against Xiao Yan's dangling leg. The movement was gentle, filled with affection, more like a silent ritual of confirmation and surrender. Then, she raised her head, gazing at him with her wild, powerful eyes, as if silently declaring: Everything I have belongs to you.

Xiao Yan slowly turned around. The candlelight cast flickering shadows between his deep-set eyes and brows. He reached out and lifted Bago's delicate chin, forcing her to raise her exotic face even higher.

His gaze, almost tangible, slowly swept over every inch of her honey-colored skin, barely visible beneath the thin veil, over her chest, which rose and fell slightly with nervousness and anticipation, before finally settling on her burning eyes.

Then, he glanced at Qianwu, who was standing quietly by the window.

Qianwu immediately understood. She moved gracefully to the other side of the open, carved wooden window. Moonlight, like quicksilver, poured in unreservedly, outlining her slender figure, barely visible beneath the thin veil. She leaned slightly forward, her arms elegantly crossed over the cool window frame, her back to the room, facing the tranquil moonlight in the courtyard. Her soft, dark hair cascaded down, obscuring half her face, revealing only her beautifully sculpted neck and a small section of her snow-white back. Her posture was gentle and submissive, like a white lotus waiting to be picked under the moonlight.

Xiao Yan moved his fingers away from Bago's chin and onto her burning shoulder, giving her a gentle push. Bago immediately understood his intention, then got up somewhat shyly, walked to Qianwu's side, and also leaned against the window frame.

Compared to Qianwu, her posture possessed a wilder, more captivating beauty. Her waist slumped, and her firm, full honey-colored back arched in the moonlight, creating a striking visual contrast with Qianwu's snow-white, slender back. One was like a thorny flower blooming under the scorching desert sun, while the other was like a pure white orchid swaying in the mountains of Raojiang.

Xiao Yan's gaze lingered for a moment on the scene before him: two beautiful women leaning against a window under the moonlight. The moonlight was cold, the candlelight was warm; the two contrasting lights intertwined and flowed on their honey-colored and snow-white skin, creating a strange and breathtaking beauty.

Xiao Yan no longer held back in the slightest.

He stood behind Qianwu. His movements carried a mixture of pity and possessiveness towards this gentle and considerate steward who had long served him and managed his inner chambers. His hand rested on her slender waist with just the right amount of pressure, carrying a sense of asserting dominance.

Qianwu's body trembled slightly, her pearly teeth instinctively biting her lower lip, suppressing the groan that almost escaped her throat. She obediently endured the impact from behind, her body trembling slightly between the coolness of the window frame and his heat. Her gaze was hazy as she stared at the cold, full moon in the courtyard outside the window, her eyes gradually unfocused, as if she wanted to entrust her soul to that pale light. Each powerful thrust caused her fingertips, pressed against the window frame, to curl slightly, leaving shallow scratches on the smooth wood.

Then, Xiao Yan turned to Bago, who was already burning with passion and whose body was trembling slightly with desire.

Treating her was a completely different matter. There was no tenderness beforehand; like taming a wild horse, it required absolute power and unquestionable authority.

The window frames creaked and groaned under the weight of their movements, their sounds mingling with Bago's barely concealed panting and Xiao Yan's heavy breathing, echoing in the quiet corridor.

The moonlight moved silently, casting clear images of intertwined figures onto the floor, elongating, distorting, and overlapping. The swaying shadows, like a silent drama, enacted the most primal acts of conquest and submission, where power and desire reached their most perfect fusion.

After an unknown amount of time, a deep, satisfied sound rang out, accompanied by two distinct yet equally long sighs that seemed to have exhausted all their strength. These sighs abruptly broke through the heavy breathing and were quickly drowned out by even heavier breathing.

Everything has calmed down.

Qianwu and Bago, as if all their bones had been removed, lay limply against the window frame, drenched in fragrant sweat, their chests heaving as they gasped for air. Qianwu's snow-white back was covered in fine beads of sweat, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, like lotus leaves after a rain. Bago's honey-colored skin was flushed with an alluring blush, sweat trickling down her taut spine and disappearing into the depths of her almost nonexistent fiery red sari.

Xiao Yan stood behind them, his chest heaving. His broad hands, filled with a post-coital pleasure and absolute possession, stroked their sweaty, slightly trembling backs.

Beneath his palms, the sensations were completely different. Qianwu's skin was delicate and slightly cool, like the finest silk; Bago's was warm and firm, full of wild elasticity. His gaze wandered, past the two beautiful bodies before him, now limp from his presence, and landed on the deep, boundless night sky outside the window.

There, the stars were sparse, and the outline of the palace stood silently in the night.

(End of this chapter)