342: Chapter 342 The Night of the Coronation

In the corridor, the figures of Nangong Mei and Baili Qiao appeared.

Nangong Mei glanced at Baili Qiao beside her, her tone carrying a hint of frustration at her lack of initiative.

"I told you there was no need to be so hesitant. See, you've missed the opportunity, haven't you?"

"Can't I just catch up now?"

"Look at the direction the Sect Master is heading."

Baili Qiao's gaze followed the direction Nangong Mei pointed, which led straight to the core area of Moon Shadow Palace. Her eyes flickered slightly.

"The central sleeping quarters... that's the Empress's. The Sect Master... went to Gu Qingyao's?"

"Exactly."

Nangong Mei rolled her eyes.

Baili Qiao lowered her head, her long lashes trembling, her voice faint as a mosquito's buzz: "Next time... if you say so, I will follow you."

...

Inside the sleeping quarters, warm jade paved the floor, and merfolk silk hung as curtains. In the incense burner, an elegant calming incense burned, diffusing a relaxing atmosphere.

Ling Hao stepped into the hall, his gaze sweeping across the room before landing on the sandalwood writing desk by the window.

Xuelang paper was spread across the desk, the ink on a Duan ink slab was not yet dry, and a wolf-hair brush rested beside it. The paper was drenched in ink, boldly inscribed with a line of poetry.

"Beneath the silk tree's boughs, I seek a shared nest, melting into your embrace as a single thread of fragrance."

Ling Hao's fingertips brushed over the ink, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

Just then, the door to the side hall was gently pushed open.

Gu Qingyao walked out wrapped in a plain-colored bath towel. Her wet, black hair was draped casually over her shoulders, with a few strands still dripping crystal water droplets that slid down her delicate neck and into the depths of the towel.

The hem of the towel barely covered her thighs, revealing a pair of straight, well-proportioned, and smooth jade-like legs. Her bare feet stepped onto the warm floor, leaving behind faint water marks.

Her cheeks were flushed pink from the steam, and her eyes were misty, looking like a lotus emerging from the water.

Ling Hao's gaze lingered on her for a moment as he smirked, "Did you call me here just to watch you emerge from your bath?"

Gu Qingyao's heart trembled under his gaze. Various past images surged in her mind, eventually transforming into a strong impulse.

She took a step forward and spoke.

"The Supreme Lord, Your Majesty, the Revered Master, and the Eldest Senior Sisters..."

Ling Hao was slightly taken aback.

Your Majesty, Revered Master, Eldest Senior Sister... it seemed she knew.

Glancing at the poem on the desk, Ling Hao's smile deepened.

"The Concept of this poem is quite good, but as for the calligraphy..."

He paused intentionally and beckoned to her, "There is still room for improvement. Come here."

Gu Qingyao was somewhat dazed. In her current state, did he still not understand? While she was feeling anxious, she was gently pulled by Ling Hao to the writing desk.

When his chest pressed against her back and his warm breath enveloped her, that solid sense of presence made her instantly understand his intentions, and her cheeks suddenly burned like fire.

"Hold it."

Ling Hao embraced her from behind, guiding her soft hand down to grasp the brush and teaching her how to adjust her grip.

"The brush must be held steadily, with firm fingers and a hollow palm, as if holding a jade pillar."

His low voice rang in Gu Qingyao's ear, making the tips of her ears burn and leaving her unable to move.

Ling Hao took a fresh sheet of Xuelang paper and spread it out. Holding her trembling hand, he guided the soft tip of the wolf-hair brush, which was soaked in thick ink, to gently probe deep into the ink slab, letting the brush tip slowly soak in the ink until it was saturated with the dark, glossy liquid.

"The brush must be thoroughly soaked for the ink to be full."

The moment the brush tip touched the paper, it made a soft squelch, which was exceptionally clear in the silent sleeping quarters.

Penetrating the paper, the ink quickly bloomed into a dark patch on the white surface.

"Relax."

Ling Hao felt the tension in her body and comforted her in a low voice.

"Am I gripping you too hard?"

Gu Qingyao's face was flushed, her brow slightly furrowed as she endured the palpitations brought by the strange and unfamiliar sensations of their contact.

"No... you aren't gripping me too hard. Please... continue teaching me."

"Good."

"Then let's first write a line of poetry."

Ling Hao guided Gu Qingyao's hand, the brush tip moving slowly across the paper.

"Moisture descends from the Milky Way; flowers are forced open by the brilliant sun."

While writing, Ling Hao whispered an explanation in her ear.

"The Milky Way in the sky sprinkles down moist water vapor, and the flowers on the earth, under the pressure of the brilliant sun, have no choice but to bloom in competition..."

The brush tip either lifted or pressed on the paper, sometimes moving with resistant reverse strokes and sometimes sliding smoothly forward.

Gu Qingyao felt as if the brush had a life of its own. Every rise and fall of his suspended wrist, every weight of the lifting and pressing, and every grind of the reverse strokes sent waves of tingling ripples deep into her body.

...

"The thick strings rattle like pattering rain, the fine strings hum like whispered words..." Ling Hao continued to guide the brush, the ink beneath it becoming more and more fluid and uninhibited.

"The sound of the thick strings is heavy and undulating..."

The more they wrote, the more Gu Qingyao felt the brush in her hand becoming difficult to control. The brush tip trembled, and under Ling Hao's forceful guidance, the soft bristles gradually began to splay.

"You... you're using too much force."

"The brush... the bristles are splaying..."

Her voice carried a hint of a sob, as if she were being pinched painfully. She could barely hold the brush, and her body relied entirely on Ling Hao's support to continue.

Ling Hao chuckled low, holding her even tighter, his burning lips pressed against her earlobe.

"Grasping the brush requires strength. It isn't necessarily a bad thing for the bristles to splay. Don't you feel that through this practice, your calligraphy skills... have deepened?"

"In all pursuits, there is always a price to be paid."

The brush tip continued to move wildly across the paper, the ink surging.

"Rattling and humming in a tangled mix, like large and small pearls falling onto a jade plate..."

Ling Hao wrote more and more smoothly. The brush moved back and forth between the ink slab and the paper, and as the strokes flowed like flying dragons and dancing snakes, the force became increasingly wild and unrestrained.

Finally, as Ling Hao's excitement rose, he made a casual sweep of his hand, forgetting about the ink slab nearby.

With a soft "thud," the ink slab was swept aside, and thick ink splashed out, spreading into large stains on the desk and the carpet.

"Ah..."

This sudden scene made Gu Qingyao let out an involuntary cry.

Disregarding it, Ling Hao took her sweat-dampened hand and steadily wrote the first line of the inscription in the blank space amidst the messy ink stains.

"The boat in the sea of ink finally reaches the shore,"

The brush tip suddenly turned, continuing the second line in wild and unrestrained cursive script.

"Only by probing the ravine with the brush tip does one know its depth."

The final stroke of the word "depth" was so forceful that it penetrated the paper, the ink mark soaking deep into the sandalwood desk, nearly three-tenths of the way through.

The warmth in the sleeping quarters grew even more intense, and both of them were covered in fine beads of sweat.

Gu Qingyao, who had been dignified and majestic during the day's coronation and admired by thousands, was now nearly unable to stand in Ling Hao's arms.

Seeing her blurred with passion and her eyes shimmering, Ling Hao lowered his head and gently licked away a crystal drop of sweat from the corner of her forehead, suggesting:

"Since we are drenched in sweat, why don't we... go wash up together?"

"Mm..." Gu Qingyao's entire body was already limp, and she could barely stand. She could only lean into his embrace and give a muffled response.

...

Inside the bath hall, the mist was thick.

A massive white jade bath pool was set into the floor, its edges carved with winding lotus patterns. Warm spring water slowly flowed in from a hidden channel, and a few freshly picked snow-white spiritual gardenia petals floated on the surface, their fragrance mixing with the warm, moist steam that filled the space.

Ling Hao carried Gu Qingyao through the silk screen and entered the bath pool.

"Is... it still not enough?"

Gu Qingyao's faint voice came from behind the screen.

At the bottom of the screen, a pair of jade-like feet were visible, suspended in the air.

The ankles were delicate, and the arches were tensed like bowstrings. Her five toes, round and smooth like pearls and jade, trembled slightly in the hazy light, as if trying to grasp some support, yet they could only hang suspended in the warm air.

A crystal drop of water quietly gathered on those tensed toes, threatening to fall but lingering there.

The sound of water splashed softly.

The light and shadows rippled, causing the intertwined silhouettes to become blurred, elongated, and distorted before merging again, like a dynamic ink painting performing an endless display of passion on the silk.

The ripples grew more intense, and the light and shadows became more chaotic. The murmuring sound of water covered the faint sobs, lingering in the warm mist.

The suspended jade feet suddenly tensed straight, the toes curling like shells, before going limp and stretching out again. They trembled slightly and slowly dropped, vanishing into the shadows and steam behind the screen, leaving only the heavy strokes of ink-like shadows on the silk that were indistinguishable from one another, along with the increasingly rich and humid scent of gardenias and steam in the room.

...

The first light of dawn filtered through the window lattice and onto the large bed in the center of the sleeping quarters.

From beneath the brocade quilt, a pair of jade feet poked out, reflecting a delicate and soft light in the morning sun.

Following those graceful ankles upward, Ling Hao's strong arm was wrapped around Gu Qingyao's smooth shoulders and back. They embraced naked, their breathing long and steady.

[Ding! Detected that Gu Qingyao's loyalty has reached 100%. Triggering Heaven-Defying Fate Change! The Kunyuan Holy Body has evolved into the Myriad Manifestations World-Suppressing Body!]

Ling Hao suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze flashing like lightning.

His figure moved slightly, and in an instant, he appeared silently outside the door of the sleeping quarters.

Inside the hall, Gu Qingyao's long eyelashes flickered, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking toward the door.

A moment later, Ling Hao's figure reappeared by the bed. He gazed at the beauty on the bed, seeing her eyes tightly closed and her breathing even as if she were still fast asleep, yet her slightly trembling eyelashes and the flush on her ear tips betrayed her secret.

Ling Hao smiled and leaned over to gently tuck in the corner of her quilt. He placed a soft kiss on her smooth forehead.

"There's business at the Sect; I'll head back first."

"If you still want to... discuss the essentials of calligraphy, you can come find me when you're free. Moonshadow Sect doesn't have that many rules."

The sound of footsteps gradually faded, and the hall door closed silently.

Gu Qingyao slowly opened her eyes, her gaze clear and without a trace of sleepiness.

She raised her hand, her fingertips gently brushing the spot he had just kissed, as if she could still feel the burning temperature. A captivating curve unconsciously formed on her lips.