Chapter 120 – Tempting the Divine

Xie Yi had just entered when Xu Chun regained his senses, lifting his eyes to look at him, eyes both surprised and delighted as he attempted to rise. “Ninth Brother?”

Xie Yi’s gaze was low and dark. He walked over, bent down, and with one hand forcefully lifted Xu Chun’s chin, lowering his head to bite Xu Chun’s lips without hesitation.

The kiss came suddenly, and Xu Chun instinctively trembled, his legs weak. One hand rested on the table beside him while the other pressed against Xie Yi’s chest, only to be caught by Xie Yi’s wrist. His eyes were misty.

Releasing Xu Chun’s chin, looking at the lover with lips stained with rouge, Xie Yi’s gentle smile carried a peculiar meaning. “Young Lin is too tempting—what were you doing?”

He looked at the painting, but it was blank, clearly showing that the painter had spent half the day agonizing over how to start.

Xu Chun was distracted. “I wanted to paint a picture for Ninth Brother as a parting gift before your departure, but I haven’t decided what to paint yet…”

He leaned on the table, remembering all the past events—the initial coldness and unattainability of Ninth Brother, the earnest teachings after they became acquainted, that night of heavy rain… the long journey carrying the carefully prepared fish lantern, arriving in Minzhou on Lantern Festival night but not seeing him.

What did Ninth Brother think that night? He paved the way to the heavens for me, yet he didn’t want to see me again. He meticulously made the fish lantern but still returned to the capital. He hesitated, fearing to ruin me.

Xie Yi glanced around and saw an enormous mirror placed in front of a screen opposite him. He came back to reality. “You wanted to paint yourself?”

Xu Chun said hesitantly, “I wanted to paint myself and Ninth Brother together, holding a lantern, but after staring at the mirror for half the day, I couldn’t figure out how to compose it. I’ve been unable to paint anything.”

Xie Yi smiled slightly. “Painting yourself does have its difficulties; let me do it.”

He moved closer to Xu Chun, his breath brushing against Xu Chun’s face, as if he was focusing solely on Xu Chun. His voice was as soft and intimate as a whisper.

The Emperor’s direct gaze was too overpowering. Xu Chun didn’t dare meet Xie Yi’s eyes, his gaze too oppressive, too predatory and intimidating. A layer of sweat broke out on his spine, as if he was back in that rainy night, in the water, with Ninth Brother looking at him, like a beast ready to devour him.

His face began to heat up, and he couldn’t help but ask Xie Yi, “Your Majesty… how do you want to paint it?”

He hadn’t realized that he had subconsciously changed his form of address. Ninth Brother’s presence was too strong, completely overwhelming him.

Xie Yi said, “Go to the short couch opposite, and I’ll paint based on that.”

Xu Chun felt completely under his control, getting up with soft hands and feet, going to the short couch by the window opposite and sitting down properly.

Xie Yi said, “No, take off your shoes and get onto the couch, also take off your socks, turn sideways, and turn your face to look at me.”

Xu Chun blankly took off his shoes and socks. Once on the couch, he could only kneel. He turned sideways and then turned his face to look at Xie Yi, his spine tense like a taut bowstring.

Xie Yi shook his head. “No… spread your legs more, put your left leg down below the couch.”

He got up and walked over, reaching out to personally guide Xu Chun’s leg to dangle off the side of the couch, while the right leg remained curled on the couch. In this position, Xu Chun couldn’t sit still anymore, so he had to place his hand on the armrest of the couch, looking at Xie Yi blankly.

Xie Yi reached out, his long fingers gently caressing Xu Chun’s delicate, slightly cool face. His eyes fixed on him, his gaze tangible. Xu Chun looked up at him, feeling as if he was being treated like prey, comforted before being devoured. The sensation of alertness and shrinking remained like needles on his back.

Xie Yi’s hand slid down, unfastening his waistband, loosening his clothes to let them fall open. Then he reached out to remove his hairpin, letting his hair fall down, running his hand through it to let it naturally hang loose. Frowning, he said, “It’s still too neat.” Then he reached out to mess it up some more.

Xu Chun: “…What is Ninth Brother trying to paint? It can’t be… something indecent…”

Xu Chun’s face was growing redder, his waist and abdomen tightly tensed, his toes moving uneasily, his body already involuntarily stirred by desire.

But Xie Yi stepped back, returning to the desk, sitting upright and taking up a brush, dipping it in ink, actually beginning to paint seriously!

Xu Chun: “…”

Ninth Brother lit the fire and then left, what was this?

He wanted to cry but couldn’t shed tears. As soon as he moved, Xie Yi raised his head and looked at him sternly. “Don’t move.”

Xu Chun: “…”

The wind blew outside the window, and cicadas continued to chirp, with a faint scent of osmanthus in the air.

Xu Chun wasn’t usually quiet, and he started feeling uncomfortable after holding this pose for a while. Moreover, being stared at by Ninth Brother from time to time, his gaze measuring him inch by inch, made him even more imaginative. He could only be grateful that although his clothes today were thin, they were very loose. This pose wasn’t very obvious, otherwise, he would have embarrassed himself in front of Ninth Brother.

But what was Ninth Brother painting?

He painted very seriously, holding the brush and moving it across the large desk. This painting should be quite large, spanning the entire paper. But it was also very detailed; he often switched to smaller brushes to carefully outline and color, frequently glancing at Xu Chun. Whenever Xu Chun moved slightly, Ninth Brother’s gaze would fall on him, disapproving, leaving Xu Chun no choice but to grit his teeth and endure.

But what was he painting?

He was painting very attentively, holding the brush and moving it across the wide desk. This painting should be quite large, spanning the whole paper. But it was also very meticulous; he would often switch to small brushes, carefully outlining and coloring, his gaze frequently sweeping over Xu Chun. If Xu Chun moved slightly, Ninth Brother’s eyes would fall on him, disapproving, forcing him to clench his teeth and persevere.

But whatever it was, the more suppressed it was, the more he wanted it. Especially when Ninth Brother was serious, every feature—his brows, eyes, nose, and lips—was noble and cold, solemn and detached. This coldness and dignity were precisely what he adored the most, causing his emotions to surge uncontrollably, his face burning like fire, his lips dry and parched.

He didn’t know that his obedient yet seductive appearance was also a test for Xie Yi. After looking at Xu Chun a few times, he finally sighed, “The expression isn’t right.”

Xu Chun was lost in his fantasies, unable to extricate himself. Now, he looked at him blankly, his face flushed like peach blossoms, his eyes misty. “What expression?”

Xie Yi put down the brush, walked over, and placed his palm down, lifting Xu Chun’s face, looking into his eyes, whispering, “Not enough.”

He reached down with one hand, gently pulling at the sash of his inner robe, the sash loosened, the robe fell open, the light too bright, leaving Xu Chun exposed, still immersed in the depths of Xie Yi’s affectionate eyes, then suddenly overwhelmed by a deep kiss, the only sound the last cicada cries of autumn.

Chun Xi and the others were downstairs playing mahjong. Xia Chao looked at the sky and said, “Isn’t the Emperor and young master having lunch?”

Chun Xi said, “If they don’t call, don’t go in.”

Xia Chao said, “How big is this painting going to be, taking so long to paint.”

Qiu Hu said, “Some people take years to paint.”

Upstairs, Xu Chun’s eyes and eyelashes were wet with tears, his lips red, his hair in disarray, his shoulders covered with thin skin marks, the dragon scale bracelet on his left arm shining like gold.

He hugged the large cushion on the couch, the cushion covered with Xie Yi’s outer robe, bunched up under Xu Chun. One foot hung loosely off the couch, his thigh numb, his voice low and hoarse. “Has Ninth Brother finished painting?”

Xie Yi was bare-chested and barefoot, his face solemn, kneeling in front of the table, his brush flying. “Almost done, hold on a bit longer.” His voice carried soothing gentleness, yet also satisfaction and pleasure.

This painting wasn’t completed until the sun set behind the mountains.

Xu Chun sat in Xie Yi’s arms, lowering his eyes to look at the painting, his heart and mind moved at once.

In the painting, a giant dragon spanned the entire canvas. The dragon lifted its head, its eyes gleaming with divine light, its scales prominent, its whiskers fierce, its sharp claws and body winding through the clouds. Dark clouds filled the paper, the heavens above thundering and lightning flashing, the dragon seeming to burst forth from the paper.

Amidst the surging winds and thunder, there was a touch of splendor. On the dragon’s back, a beautiful youth lay on the rough scales, his waist slender, his bare feet and arms exposed, one hand gripping the dragon’s horn, his long hair and the crimson ribbon at his waist fluttering in the fierce wind. The dragon flew fiercely, the strong wind howling, its claws flailing, but the youth turned his face to look at the viewer, his eyes burning with temptation, as if luring a deity down to earth.