After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Xie Qinglan was awakened by the clanging and clattering sounds of moving things outside the courtyard.

The dull ache of a hangover burrowed into his skull from his temples, wave after wave, making his eyes feel heavy. He raised his hand to his forehead, his knuckles turning white. With a little force, the pain spread throughout his body, a tingling and numb sensation shooting up his spine, causing him to furrow his brow deeply.

He lay there with his eyes closed for a while, and only after the dizziness subsided slightly did he slowly open his eyelids.

The first thing he saw was the plain white curtains of Tingxue Pavilion, the sparse bamboo pattern embroidered with silver thread shimmering with a faint, cold light in the morning. He tried to sit up, but as soon as his waist was off the brocade mattress, an indescribable soreness washed over him, and his arm trembled, causing him to fall back down.

The quilt slipped off his shoulders, and the morning light slanted across his bare skin, revealing the mottled red marks. New marks covered the old ones, varying in shade, winding from his collarbone to his waist, disappearing beneath the mattress. The pale blue finger mark on his waist had faded to a light yellow, and next to the pale red mole below his collarbone, a ring of fresh, neat teeth marks had appeared, still showing signs of swelling.

His eyelashes drooped, and as he glanced at the marks, his fingertips paused for a moment at the ties of his nightgown. Then, expressionless, he tightened the nightgown, tying the ties meticulously.

He cursed Xiao Jingyuan inwardly for his lack of restraint. He had been pestering him for days on end, and last night he was clearly drunk and had no memory of what was happening, yet this man still took advantage of him.

What exactly happened last night?

He tried hard to recall, but his memory was like rice paper soaked in wine, the writing blurred and indistinct, leaving only a few chaotic patches of color—the splashed moonlight, the cold glint of a sword, and Xiao Jingyuan's bloodshot eyes…

Xie Qinglan pinched the bridge of her nose. If she couldn't remember, she wouldn't think about it anymore. Anyway, he wasn't a bad person when drunk; at most, he'd say a few nonsense words, which shouldn't be a big deal.

As for the soreness and weakness all over his body—his thoughts paused for a very short moment, then he expressionlessly pulled the quilt up to his chest, deciding not to dwell on it.

The palace doors were gently pushed open.

"woke up?"

Xiao Jingyuan's voice was gentler than usual, with an undisguised joy in the last syllable. He walked in carrying a celadon bowl, dressed in a black casual robe, his dark hair neatly tied back with a jade crown. He was radiant and his steps were light, a stark contrast to the person on the couch who seemed too tired to even move a finger.

Xie Qinglan glanced at him, her gaze lingering for a moment on his smug face before looking away.

"Um."

Xiao Jingyuan sat down by the bed, placed the celadon bowl on the low table beside the bed, and reached out to touch Xie Qinglan's forehead. His palm, still warm from holding the bowl, touched Xie Qinglan's forehead, and Xie Qinglan's eyelashes trembled violently as if burned, turning his head away.

He braced himself against the bed frame and slowly sat up against the headboard. His movements were slow, and with each inch he moved, his waist and abdomen protested silently, but he didn't show a single expression on his face, not even a furrowed brow.

Xiao Jingyuan's hand paused in mid-air, but he wasn't annoyed. He simply smiled and handed over the porcelain bowl: "I had the Imperial Kitchen prepare this hangover soup. Drink it while it's hot."

"Will I feed you?"

"No need." Xie Qinglan took the bowl and drank it spoonful by spoonful. The soup was at the perfect temperature, and the slight sweetness of the licorice overpowered the spiciness of the ginger. As it slid down her throat, the nausea from the hangover was indeed relieved a bit.

Xiao Jingyuan sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him, his gaze fixed on his face, the more he looked, the more itchy he felt.

This person is like a completely different person when he's awake and when he's drunk. The Xie Qinglan who was all starry-eyed last night, saying "You're so amazing," tugging at his sleeve with a pitiful look and saying "Why did you leave?", and burying his face in his neck and muttering "I've liked you for a long, long time," is nothing like the Xie Xiang in front of me, who has a cold expression and doesn't even bother to lift his eyelids.

"Qinglan".

"Um."

Do you remember what happened last night?

Xie Qinglan's hand holding the spoon suddenly froze, the rim of the spoon hitting the bowl with a very soft, crisp sound. The pause was extremely brief, but it did not escape Xiao Jingyuan's eyes.

He then continued to scoop soup and put it in his mouth, his tone as calm as ever: "I don't remember very well."

He glanced up at Xiao Jingyuan, a hint of wariness and uncertainty in his eyes, as if afraid to hear something shameful from the other: "Last night, I didn't do anything out of line, did I?"

Xiao Jingyuan's lips curled into a meaningful smile. He had long anticipated the potent aftereffects of the Pear Blossom White wine, and Xie Qinglan couldn't possibly remember it clearly.

It's good that he doesn't remember; that's how he can tease him.

"It wasn't exactly a loss of composure," he said slowly, tapping the edge of the bed with his fingertips. "He just insisted on dancing with me, snatched my sword and started dancing, but before he could take three steps, he crashed into my arms, saying his legs wouldn't obey him."

Xie Qinglan's fingertips stiffened again.

"And he insisted on teaching me how to tame wolves," Xiao Jingyuan's smile deepened, "calling me a wolfhound, with his ears perked up like this, and even gesturing to show me."

Her ears turned red first. The blush was like snow melting into rouge, burning down her neck, even tinging her fingertips holding the porcelain spoon with pink. Xie Qinglan lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes concealing the embarrassment in them, and stirred the bowl with the porcelain spoon faster and faster.

"Oh, by the way, you also—"

"Stop, stop talking."

Xie Qinglan suddenly raised her hand, her slightly cool fingertips hastily pressing against his lips, the force not strong, but with a hint of panic as she tried to stop him.

Her voice was strained, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor, and the corners of her usually cool eyes were reddened. Her fingertips trembled slightly as they touched his warm lips, as if burned.

Xiao Jingyuan took the hand in his hand and gently stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, the corners of his mouth curving up even higher.

"Qinglan was really clingy last night." He lowered his head, his lips brushing against Xie Qinglan's knuckles, his voice low and tinged with a mischievous smile, "She wouldn't let go of my neck no matter what I did to coax her. It wasn't that I took advantage of her—you were the one who started it."

Xie Qinglan abruptly pulled his hand back, his knuckles gripping the rim of the bowl tightly. A rare look of helplessness appeared on his usually composed face—he truly didn't remember doing such a thing, yet Xiao Jingyuan's expression didn't seem feigned. He would never do such a thing when sober, but when drunk… it was hard to say.

"H-How could this be?" His voice stammered for once, then he took a deep breath, trying to suppress the panic in his heart, and resumed his usual calm and indifferent tone, "Your Majesty, are you perhaps teasing me?"

Xiao Jingyuan chuckled inwardly, but his face remained serious, even slightly furrowing his brows to show a hint of grievance: "I'm not lying to you. Qinglan praised me as 'amazing' last night, and every word she said on the bed was sincere."

Xie Qinglan's face flushed even more. He vaguely remembered speaking to Xiao Jingyuan on the couch with wet eyes, but he couldn't recall exactly what he said... Would he really say such shameful things?

I dare not think about it too much.

"What's all the commotion outside?" He quickly changed the subject, his gaze passing over Xiao Jingyuan and landing on the tightly closed palace doors. The faint sounds of heavy objects being moved could be heard from outside the courtyard, and someone was giving instructions in a low voice.

"Oh." Xiao Jingyuan glanced back, his tone light. "It's Ye Qi who's back. I sent him to Nanyue on some business a few days ago, and he brought some things back with him."

"What is it?"

"These are your old belongings that you used to use. Books, tea sets, clothes, writing brushes, ink, paper and inkstones—you won't need that Prime Minister's residence in Nanyue anymore, so I had them all moved here to save you the trouble of making that trip again."

Xie Qinglan was silent for a moment, not quite believing the "by the way" explanation.

He threw back the quilt and tried to get out of bed, bracing himself against the bed frame. His knees buckled the moment his feet touched the ground, and he lurched forward uncontrollably. Xiao Jingyuan reacted swiftly, his arms firmly encircling his waist and pulling him into his embrace.

"I will help you."

"No need, I can do it myself—"

"Your back is still sore, why are you trying to be strong?" Xiao Jingyuan's tone left no room for argument. He held Xiao Jingyuan's waist firmly with one hand, while the other hand reached for the neatly folded moon-white brocade robe at the foot of the bed.

He unfolded his robe and expertly draped it over Xie Qinglan's shoulders, then gently pulled his long hair out from the collar. As his fingertips brushed against the delicate skin on the back of Xie Qinglan's neck, he deliberately rubbed it lightly with his fingertips.

While helping him dress, the man groped him all over. Xie Qinglan remained stiff, letting him do as he pleased.

He glanced at Xiao Jingyuan's ever-smirking lips and suddenly had a bad feeling—this man's attitude towards him seemed to have become even more presumptuous than before.

She used to be clingy, but at least there was a hint of cautious testing. Now she's so intimate, as if it's perfectly natural, as if she's certain he won't refuse. What exactly did he say to her yesterday?

He raised his hand and pressed down on Xiao Jingyuan's hand, which was still lingering on his waist, his tone somewhat helpless: "Your Majesty, that's enough."

Xiao Jingyuan reluctantly withdrew his hand and picked up the comb to tie Xie Qinglan's hair. The jet-black hair slipped through his fingers, cool and smooth like the finest silk. After tying his hair, he couldn't help but gently pinch Xie Qinglan's reddened ear tips.

Xie Qinglan turned his head away from his hand, straightened his back, and walked out. The soreness in his waist and abdomen was still surging up, and every step felt like walking on cotton, but his back was straight, and his steps were so calm that there was no sign of anything amiss. His face was covered with that layer of icy demeanor that kept people at a distance.

Xiao Jingyuan followed behind him, his gaze fixed on the tips of his reddened ears, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

This usually cold and sharp little cat was still stubbornly maintaining its aloof and proud demeanor, unaware that it had already exposed its softest belly to him completely last night.