The Crazy Emperor's Pampered Cousin

Hearing her mention it now, he calmly grasped her wrist, which was resting against his chest.

He gently stroked her delicate wrist with his fingertips, changing the subject.

Xie Yanzhao's voice was low and hoarse, with a languid quality unique to those ill, which inexplicably captivated people.

"Jiaojiao...where are you wiping?"

Shen Tinghe followed his gaze and her cheeks flushed slightly.

Unbeknownst to her, her hand had already slipped inside his slightly open nightgown.

That fair and well-defined chest was displayed without any obstruction.

It was warm and firm to the touch, yet supple and elastic, rising and falling slightly with his steady breathing.

No wonder it felt so different just now.

Shen Tinghe tried to pull her hand back, but he held it even tighter.

Xie Yanzhao chuckled softly, grabbed her waist, and pulled her directly into his arms.

His burning heat emanated through the thin fabric of his clothes. Although he was a patient, apart from the abnormal heat, the strength of his arms and the firmness of his chest were no different from those of an ordinary person, and even more aggressive than usual.

"elder brother…."

Shen Tinghe called softly, her voice carrying a softness she herself was unaware of.

Xie Yanzhao lowered his head, his breath close to hers, their warm breaths mingling.

"Yuan Yuan, feel free to touch me. We're all one family."

These words were like a key, unlocking some kind of constraint. Shen Tinghe honestly began to work, the handkerchief already fallen among the brocade quilts and ignored by everyone.

Her fingertips first tentatively touched the full, soft pectoral muscles, then slowly slid down, caressing every clearly defined crease of the abdominal muscles.

It feels incredibly good.

Shen Tinghe sighed softly with satisfaction, her fingertips tracing his skin as if appreciating fine warm jade, or as if caressing precious musical strings.

Help! She's really eating well.

Especially this person in front of her, who goes out of his way to feed her every day, indulging her little quirk in all sorts of ways.

Xie Yanzhao felt her cool fingertips brushing against his burning skin, each touch sending shivers down his spine.

He tilted his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing, and let out a suppressed, satisfied sigh.

So cool.

Being caressed so gently by Yuan Yuan felt incredibly pleasurable.

Especially now that she was feverish and her skin was unusually sensitive, the cool touch of her fingertips relieved the heat just right, and aroused another, deeper desire.

Ice and fire clashed on his skin, and she controlled the entire rhythm.

He half-closed his eyes, letting her "explore" his body, occasionally letting out a low hum from his throat, like a wild beast being stroked.

Those usually deep eyes were now veiled with tears as they gazed intently at the blushing yet earnest profile of the person in their arms.

"Are you still feeling unwell?"

Shen Tinghe asked softly, her fingertips unconsciously drawing circles on his chest.

Xie Yanzhao grasped her mischievous hand and pressed it against his burning cheek, his voice hoarse.

"It hurts. But if Yuan Yuan touches it more, it'll feel better."

The two lay on the fluffy, soft brocade quilt, Xie Yanzhao nestled against her, burying his cheek in the crook of her neck and gently rubbing against her, like a cat that had finally found warmth.

The initial taste of success had given him a taste for more, and he was now unwilling to back down even a little.

Shen Tinghe could feel the heat emanating from him through the thin fabric of his clothes.

Her heart softened, and she gently combed his loose hair with her fingertips, indulging his clinginess.

Their nightgowns were all loose, and the lapels had long since come undone without them noticing.

Xie Yanzhao's warm breath brushed against the skin below her collarbone, and his eyes shone unusually brightly in the dim light.

With delicious food right in front of you, how could you not eat it?

He opened his mouth and ate it.

"Mmm... Brother~"

Shen Tinghe let out a soft moan, her voice trembling at the end.

She instinctively closed her fingers, her fingertips sinking into his thick hair.

She tried to push him away, but her palm only lightly touched his burning forehead.

Ultimately, considering that he was still ill, her initial resistance turned into a gentle caress.

But her body was quite honest, and the delicate pleasure from his lips and teeth climbed up her spine.

Xie Yanzhao noticed her indulgence and became increasingly demanding.

After a delay of three or four days, the official road that had been blocked by rocks was finally repaired.

As dawn broke, Shen Tinghe was still fast asleep in her room, but Xie Yanzhao was already standing on the veranda.

Jing Cang: "Young Master, a letter from Xingzhou."

He presented a strip of paper, about an inch wide, with both hands.

Xie Yanzhao unfolded the paper, revealing only two words written with a hidden drug: "Completed."

The writing gradually became visible in the wind, then faded, and finally blended into the paper texture, leaving no trace.

A slow, icy smile crept onto his lips.

From then on, this royal uncle would no longer be an obstacle for him.

Jing Cang did not retreat immediately, but instead took half a step forward, lowering his voice so as not to disturb the peace inside the house.

"There's one more thing... Song Huailing is dead."

Xie Yanzhao paused: "Dead?"

He turned his head to the side, the lingering smile in his eyes hardening into a sharp scrutiny.

Jing Cang recounted the whole story in a low voice.

Xie Yanzhao listened quietly, his initial surprise dissipating like ripples, and a deeper, more profound smile spreading from the depths of his eyes.

"It's a double celebration."

He spoke softly, his tone as if he were commenting on the end of a game of chess.

Just then, the first ray of morning light pierced through the clouds, shining obliquely on half of his face, creating a striking contrast of light and shadow, making him appear like a god or demon.

Xie Yanzhao: "That would save us trouble."

Xie Yanzhao gently pushed open the door. The person on the bed was still deeply buried in the brocade quilt, breathing evenly and soundly, fast asleep.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and waited quietly for a moment until the chill that had enveloped him was dispelled by the warmth of the room before he took off his outer robe, lifted the quilt, and lay down inside.

The moment my head hit the pillow, that soft, warm mass automatically came to me.

Shen Tinghe mumbled something in her sleep and rolled into his arms familiarly.

A hand unconsciously slipped under the hem of his undergarment, its warm palm resting against his waist.

Xie Yanzhao paused slightly, then relaxed, letting the small hand cling to him affectionately.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her cheek, and sighed softly, "You little rascal, you've really gotten addicted to touching me."

The two embraced until the daylight outside the window was fully bright and the chirping of birds pierced through the window paper, at which point Shen Tinghe slowly woke up.

She squinted her sleepy eyes and noticed a cool breeze beside her.

Turning her head, she saw Xie Yanzhao sitting against the headboard, holding a book in one hand and slowly fanning herself with a plain silk fan in the other, sending her a cool breeze.

The autumn air was dry, the meditation room was tightly closed, and the brocade quilt was heavy, so she slept with a layer of fine sweat on her face, her temples damp and clinging to her skin.

The breeze was just right, and Shen Tinghe sighed comfortably, unconsciously rubbing her cheek against the pillow, urging him softly.

"Brother, fan faster."

Xie Yanzhao lowered his eyes upon hearing the sound and saw that his beloved Jiaojiao had woken up.

Her eyes were watery, her cheeks were rosy from sleep, and a few strands of black hair clung to her neck, giving her a lazy and dazed look.

His heart softened, and he leaned down to give her a tender peck on the lips: "You're such a sweetheart."

Dissatisfied with the fleeting touch, yet still craving the cool breeze, Shen Tinghe twisted her body and drawled out her words.

"Brother—fan your fan!"

"Alright, alright, fan me."

A smile spread across Xie Yanzhao's eyes. He simply put the book aside, wrapped his long arm around her, and pulled her into his embrace.

Let her lean comfortably against his chest, then pick up the fan again and fan her.

"The road has been repaired. After breakfast, we can set off."