Hot flashes

The coronation ceremony is scheduled for the ninth day of the third month.

The Imperial Astronomical Bureau declared it an auspicious day, suitable for sacrifices, ascensions to the throne, and investitures. Xiao Jue merely grunted in response, then wrote "Approved" on the memorial with his vermilion brush.

That day, Zhou Heng stood on Chengtian Gate, looking down at the dark mass of civil and military officials kneeling below.

The sun was shining brightly, the spring was in full bloom, and the figure in the twelve-stamped crown, dressed in black robes and crimson skirts, walked step by step up the imperial steps, a figure both familiar and strange.

The man walked to the throne, turned around, and sat down.

They shouted "Long live the Emperor!"

Zhou Heng knelt down with the officials, his forehead pressed against the back of his hand, listening to the voices surge like a tide, one wave higher than the next.

The ceremony lasted a full day. It included sacrifices to Heaven, Earth, and the Imperial Ancestral Temple; receiving the congratulations of the officials; the investiture of the Empress—since there was no Empress, the investiture was temporarily vacant—and then the investiture of the meritorious officials.

Zhao Ting was enfeoffed as Duke of Zhenguo and appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Palace Guards. Wang Ben was enfeoffed as Marquis of Wuwei and appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guards (cavalry and infantry).

Shen Yu was appointed Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion and concurrently served as Chancellor of the Secretariat. One name after another was read out, and one title after another was bestowed.

Finally, they read Zhou Heng's name.

"Zhou Heng was promoted to Hanlin Academician and Imperial Secretary, concurrently serving as a drafter of imperial edicts and Chancellor, and was granted the title of Earl of Wen'an County."

Zhou Heng knelt there, listening to the long list of official titles, somewhat bewildered.

The Hanlin Academician is a second-rank official, the Imperial Edict Drafter is responsible for drafting imperial edicts, and the Chancellor is the prime minister... How did he become the prime minister?

He kowtowed to express his gratitude.

"Your subject, Zhou Heng, thanks Your Majesty for your great kindness."

The person on the throne looked at him, a faint smile in their eyes.

Nighttime, East Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.

When Zhou Heng was pulled in by Xiao Jue, he thought they were going to discuss state affairs. After all, it was his first day on the throne, and there must be a lot of things to deal with. But as soon as the door closed, he was pressed down onto the imperial desk.

There were still unfinished memorials lying on the desk, which made his back ache.

"What are you doing...?" He struggled to sit up.

Xiao Jue didn't speak. His eyes glowed red in the candlelight, like two dark flames burning. His hand was on Zhou Heng's shoulder, not with much force, but enough to immobilize him.

"I have waited for three months," Xiao Jue said, his voice low and hoarse. "From the day I found you until now, three months."

Zhou Heng opened his mouth.

For the past three months, he has been recovering from his injuries. His left shoulder injury has healed, his head injury has healed, and his fever persisted for half a month before it finally subsided completely.

Xiao Jue forbade him to do anything, not to stay up late, not to eat raw or cold food, and not even to walk for too long. Every night, he would just hold him, kiss his forehead, kiss the corner of his mouth, and then turn off the lights and go to sleep.

Three months.

He forgot who Xiao Jue was. He forgot how long this man had been starving.

"Now," Xiao Jue leaned down, his nose touching his, "are you still going to dodge?"

Zhou Heng's face flushed, and he turned his head away, not daring to look at him. But Xiao Jue's lips landed on his ear, on his neck, on the patch of skin exposed when he turned his head. Light yet hot, like setting fire.

"I...I didn't dodge..." His voice trembled.

Xiao Jue chuckled softly. The laughter reverberated from his chest, sending a shiver down Zhou Heng's spine.

"Didn't dodge?" Xiao Jue's hand landed on his waist, slowly untying the belt. "Then look at me."

Zhou Heng dared not look.

Xiao Jue stopped.

Zhou Heng waited for a while, but nothing came of it. Finally, he couldn't help but turn his head. As soon as he turned, he met those red eyes, so close they were inches apart.

"What are you looking at..." he muttered.

Xiao Jue didn't answer. He just looked at Zhou Heng, at the face that he had gradually nurtured over the past three months—it was rosy, plump, and its eyes were bright, no longer as thin and bony as when he first found him.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then he lowered his head and kissed those lips.

Carrying all the pent-up emotions of the past three months, he conquered territory, advancing inch by inch. Zhou Heng was breathless from his kisses, her hands clutching his clothes, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

The memorials on the emperor's desk were swept to the ground with a loud crash.

Zhou Heng's back pressed against the cold tabletop, making him shiver. But Xiao Jue's body covered him, burning hot, enveloping him completely.

"Xiao Jue..." he called his name, his voice so soft it was almost unbelievable.

Xiao Jue responded with an even deeper kiss and hands that no longer held back on his body.

The candlelight flickered, casting their shadows on the wall, intertwined and inseparable.

Zhou Heng's consciousness gradually blurred, leaving only the burning body temperature of the person beside him, their rapid breathing, and those red eyes that had been staring at him.

After an unknown amount of time, he was turned over and pressed face down on the throne.

That was the seat Xiao Jue had sat in during the day; his scent still lingered. Zhou Heng's face was pressed against the cold chair back, his whole body trembling.

Xiao Jue pressed down on him from behind, biting his ear, his voice so low it sounded like it was being ground from his chest:

"I'll give you half of my dragon throne."

Zhou Heng wanted to curse him, but the words that came out were all broken into groans.

The candles in the Qianqing Palace burned all night.

The next morning, when the eunuch came to request the morning court session, Chen Shen stopped him at the door.

"His Majesty has declared that court will be adjourned today."

The eunuch nodded and withdrew.

In the East Warm Pavilion, Zhou Heng was curled up in bed, his whole body sore and weak that he didn't want to move. Xiao Jue's arm was still around his waist, holding him tightly in his arms.

He opened his eyes and stared at the face so close to his.

Xiao Jue didn't open his eyes, but as if he could sense his gaze, the corners of his lips curved slightly.

"Let's see again," he said, his voice low and hoarse from just waking up, "let's do it one more time."

Zhou Heng immediately closed his eyes.

Xiao Jue chuckled softly, tightened his arms, and pulled him closer to his chest.

Outside the window, the sky was bright with daylight. On the imperial road outside Chengtian Gate, officials were gradually dispersing. Thus began the second day of the new dynasty.