From CEO to Concubine

The emperor didn't stop summoning him. Even after a week, when Hua Zhixuan's had more or less made a full recovery and they could no longer remain absent from the petty politicking of the morning assemblies, the same messenger eunuch waited outside Changchun Palace to present the same invitation to him again and again. 

Yan Zheyun tried to pretend he couldn't feel the jealous eyes glaring holes into his back every time he departed in the direction of Tianlu Pavilion. Once there, nothing had changed. When he wasn't grinding ink, he was lounging on the divan, white robes cascading onto the floor as he poured over books and scrolls about the past military conquests of the imperial forefathers or interesting travel annals that painted a colourful picture of the Ye Empire. 

He'd been delighted to discover that the shelves of scrolls and books that surrounded them weren't just dry collections of philosophical texts and had been more than happy to sit around like an ornament if it meant he could enjoy them. Reading was one of his biggest hobbies but entering high school, the amount of time he'd had to dedicate to it had dwindled to next to nothing. It was nice to be able to pick it up once again, even if he had to endure the admiring glances the maids and eunuchs sneaked at him whenever they entered to perform little tasks like changing the tea. 

As for the emperor, he never once mentioned that conversation that they'd shared outside on the bridge and Yan Zheyun wasn't dumb enough to bring it up. The subject was taboo in the first place; the inner palace was not to interfere with government affairs. Testing the emperor's limits incessantly wasn't the way to convince the emperor that he had his best interests at heart, which Yan Zheyun technically did. They just so happened to coincide with Yan Zheyun's best interests too. 

Today was the eve of Yuanxiao, the Lantern Festival that took place on the 15th day of the first month of the year. Yan Zheyun had started to get used to thinking about the passage of time in terms of the lunar instead of the Gregorian calendar that had been so convenient back in modern days. In the days leading up to the Lantern Festival, the tepid atmosphere in the inner palace finally took on a spark of life again, as the various palaces hung up decorations and planned their own little celebrations. Stuck behind the walls of the imperial city, these concubines wouldn't be able to participate in the festivities that would brighten up the capital. More than one young girl and boy would think wistfully about their carefree younger selves visiting the market stores at night with their friends or childhood sweethearts. 

The emperor remained unaffected by the jubilation of the surrounding palaces. Unlike everyone else, his work was endless. Shrouded within the faint mistiness of incense smoke, he felt distant and untouchable even though he was right next to Yan Zheyun. 

"This is ridiculous." The script bearing the official's memorial clattered back onto the table where it was tossed. "Have a look." 

Yan Zheyun would have dropped to his knees if the emperor hadn't predicted his reaction and caught him before they could touch the floor. 

"Is Yan Yun going to add to this sovereign's troubles by insisting on adhering to mindless formalities too?" the emperor said irritably, removing the ink stick from Yan Zheyun's slack fingers to prevent it from dripping black spots all over Yan Zheyun's pristine robes. "This sovereign told you to dispense with all formalities upon your greeting just now." 

"This isn't the same, Your Majesty," was Yan Zheyun's quiet reply. "Yan Yun is frightened." The emperor had to be kidding. So what if he'd told Yan Zheyun to be at ease? They'd been in the midst of a romantically ambiguous moment that day on the bridge and it hadn't stopped the emperor from scaring the hell out of him after hearing something he potentially didn't like. Yan Zheyun wasn't an idiot. 'Dispense with formalities' coming from the emperor was the same as 'I'll just rub a little and won't put it in' coming from a man in bed. In other words, they were convenient lies that were not to be believed. 

"Don't be. You have this sovereign's permission to read it." The emperor rolled his eyes, so quickly that Yan Zheyun wasn't certain whether he'd imagined it. "If you manage to decipher this fool's main point, this sovereign will reward you." 

Yan Zheyun worried his lower lip, lashes quivering as he looked uneasily at the script. "If Your Majesty insists," he said after a while. With his slight shoulders hunched in on itself, he looked helpless, had no choice but to obey, and the emperor's eyes darkened with a possessiveness that neither of them noticed. 

He inched closer to the table and peered down at the minister's writing. Yan Zheyun's tutor had once told him that beautiful calligraphy was a prerequisite to passing the imperial examinations. Although it didn't form part of the formal marking criteria, poor penmanship meant that a candidate's submission would be disregarded altogether by tired examiners who couldn't be bothered to decipher their chicken scratches. Now that Yan Zheyun was forced to read the most long-winded introduction he'd ever had the misfortune to come across in his life, he could see why it was necessary to chuck out everyone with bad writing from the court. 

It was also immediately evident why the emperor was complaining that he couldn't tell what this minister wanted to say. The opening niceties stretched on forever and were essentially the classical language version of "Hi, Emperor, how are you? This subject is fine, thank you, not that you asked but I'm sure you would want to know. This subject's wife, second wife, third wife, and other concubines are also fine. How is your wife, second wife, third wife, and other concubines?" So on and so forth. It didn't help that both parties had a lot of relatives. 

Frustrated, Yan Zheyun tried skipping ahead, only to realise that the writing style was so convoluted—or poorly structured—that there was no separating the personal greeting from the important content. He gathered that the minister, whoever he was, was making a point about a lack of funding somewhere and that taxes played a role, but in what, he couldn't even begin to guess. If this was what the emperor had to deal with day in and day out, it was no wonder he had a perpetual headache. In fact, Yan Zheyun no longer found him bad-tempered. To be able to tolerate this for five years without firing anyone for submitting rubbish made him a saint. 

"What on earth," Yan Zheyun muttered. His previous hesitation had dissipated. Emboldened by the annoyance he felt at being confronted by such glaring inefficiency, he forgot for a split second who he was talking to. So when the emperor asked him mildly for his opinion, his criticism was cutting. "Ridiculous," he said, echoing the emperor's earlier comment. "If they can't say anything useful clearly and succinctly, they should be replaced with someone more competent." 

A low chuckle snapped Yan Zheyun out of his musings. The thin skin stretched over the soft cartilage of the shell of his ear burned from the warm breath that blew out against it as the emperor talked.  "Yan Yun speaks this sovereign's mind." 

Yan Zheyun straightened up a little to meet the emperor's eyes. The tension in the room had shifted once again. It went from the terseness that had developed when he suspected the emperor of coming up with a new test of his loyalties to an odd ambiguous vibe that made Yan Zheyun's mouth run dry. 

It was heady. He found that he was struggling to keep up with the pace the emperor dictated their interactions at and he didn't like losing the upper hand he'd always felt like he'd had when it came to the intimate aspects of their relationship. 

"Yan Yun? You've been staring at this sovereign for a very long time, is something the matter?" The emperor's tone was the epitome of serious concern. Yan Zheyun would have fallen for it if he hadn't noticed the upwards curl of the emperor's mouth. 

A pale pink flush spread across his cheeks but he pretended not to notice the change in the mood as he replied levelly, "Yan Yun was just thinking that if Your Majesty devised a template for the officials to follow, you would have to deal with a lot less nonsense." 

This sudden suggestion seemed to sober up the emperor. He didn't pull away from Yan Zheyun but some of the heavy intent in his gaze lifted. "You mean request that all court memorials should follow a strict format?" 

"Indeed. If Your Majesty were to limit the number of phatic utterances allowed, they would have no choice but to focus the bulk of their memorial on the reason why they're writing. And without a good reason, no one would dare to write memorials anymore, as it would be readily obvious that they're just wasting Your Majesty's time." Just from skimming through this one script, Yan Zheyun could tell that this official's true intention wasn't to highlight any pressing matters. Instead, under the guise of a vague report on some revenue issues, he took the chance to introduce his sons and nephews to the emperor, practically shoving their names and achievements down the imperial throat in the hopes that the emperor would remember them when it came to new appointments after the upcoming spring examinations. 

A thumb grazed over the line of Yan Zheyun's cheekbone, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "Yan Yun has a knack for this," he murmured. "Is Attendant Hua the only one whose talents would be wasted in this sovereign's inner palace?" 

That the emperor would say this was evidence enough that he was considering Yan Zheyun's words from the other day, even though he rightly shouldn't be listening to a mere boy toy. It made Yan Zheyun respect him even more, that he was neither blinded by lust and capitulating to the whims of a pretty thing straightaway nor too arrogant and conservative to recognise a feasible idea. 

But he didn't want to discuss Hua Zhixuan now. 

His lashes trembled timorously as he reached out with tentative fingers to clutch at the edge of the emperor's wide sleeves but there was a coy, lilting quality to his soft murmur. "This concubine-subject is too ignorant and weighing-in on state affairs is not what I'm here to do."

The emperor leaned back in his seat and observed Yan Zheyun amusedly. "What are you here to do?" 

[Here goes nothing.]

White robes spilt over black as Yan Zheyun wriggled into the tight space between the edge of the desk and the emperor, straddling the lap beneath him as he pressed in close and wrapped his arms around the emperor's neck. Each gesture was done measuredly, Yan Zheyun darting small, cheeky glances at the emperor's face to check for any signs of rejection. As such, he didn't miss the storm broiling in the emperor's eyes, strong hands tensing up to grip at the armrests of the chair as Yan Zheyun shifted his hips forward boldly, closing the gap between their bodies. 

"Shameless." The emperor's voice was so rough that Yan Zheyun imagined he could feel it dragging against the sensitive skin near his jaw, which started to tingle. "In the light of day—"

"As bright as the sun and moon, this concubine-subject's impropriety knows no bounds." Yan Zheyun completed the lecture for him, his words no less hoarse. "It's Your Majesty's fault for teasing Yan Yun first. Is Your Majesty going to deny it?" He could still feel a phantom sensation on his face, on his ears, like every cell that had come into contact with the emperor's skin earlier had been branded by his touch. His throat felt parched no matter how much he swallowed. He'd never experienced such a primal desire for anyone before. As a healthy young man, it hadn't been uncommon for him to have urges, especially in the mornings, but he'd always taken care of that by himself, confident that he would only develop sexual relations for someone he had romantic feelings for. 

But whatever this was between the emperor and him, it was as muddy and deadly as quicksand and he'd been the one to drag His Majesty in with him but now he was discovering that he was drowning just as rapidly. 

The emperor didn't deny it. He didn't stop Yan Zheyun from tugging on one of his arms to wrap it around his slender waist, going weak when he felt the emperor tighten his grip and now he supposed he should be grateful this host body was so petite it could slot together so perfectly in the emperor's embrace like he was made to be held. Considering the genre of the novel he was stuck in, he technically was. 

It didn't take long before Yan Zheyun felt the emperor grow hard against the inside of his thigh. Encouraged by this flattering response, he rubbed against it, earning himself a quiet hiss as large hands reached out to seize him by the hips, giving him a warning squeeze. 

"This sovereign is working," the emperor gritted out. "Have you no discipline?"

Instead of appearing suitably chastised, Yan Zheyun squirmed against the emperor's touch, leaning forward to trace the terse clench of the emperor's defined jaw with coquettish, sloppy kisses. He remembered the emperor avoiding his mouth last time and the ensuing frisson of annoyance made him decide to suck a small bruise into the smooth skin just on the underside of the emperor's chin. 

The emperor drew in a slow breath. Satisfied with his masterpiece, Yan Zheyun sat back and admired the faint red mark that was his handiwork. "Yan Yun isn't the one without discipline," he answered innocently, as though he hadn't been the one to leave a hickey on the dragon body. "Yan Yun is just fulfilling his duties and Your Majesty should fulfil yours." 

He twisted around to grab the brush from off its holder, dipping it in the little remaining ink and getting it nice and wet before presenting it to the emperor respectfully with both hands. 

"If, Your, Majesty, pleases." He punctuated every word with a little goading circle of his hips. 

The world spun on itself. 

Through the sudden disorientation, Yan Zheyun heard the brush rattle as it bounced onto the floor, the noise quickly covered with the loud thud of memorials following close behind as the emperor swept them off the table, knocking over the precarious stack of books in the process as well. 

"Your Majesty?!" Head Eunuch Cao's worried call filtered in through the closed doors. 

"Don't come in," the emperor shouted and the sound of approaching footsteps ended abruptly. 

Yan Zheyun winced as his back slammed onto the tabletop, the emperor pinning him down as he ground their hips together, eliciting a breathless moan from Yan Zheyun's slack lips. When the emperor had stood up suddenly, he'd thought that he'd gone too far and was about to be tossed out of Tianlu Pavilion for being a distracting menace but this was a much more enjoyable outcome. 

"You're such a handful," he heard the emperor mutter before lips crashed down upon his. 

The emperor was unrelenting. Yan Zheyun felt his chest burn as his breath was robbed from him, the emperor's arms caging him in and keeping him pinned with an immovable pressure that made his head spin. This didn't feel the same as the previous time they'd helped each other out. In comparison, that had felt like a farce, two actors following a script for a routine performance that was expected of them, and even though the emperor had given in at the end, self-control wavering long enough for him to leave little marks all over Yan Zheyun's body, it'd been a mimicry of passion as compared to this—

"Focus." Yan Zheyun felt a sharp punishing sting on the plump bottom of his lower lip and the gasp he let out was devoured as a tongue took advantage of that lapse in his defences to plunder his mouth. It brought with it a faintly metallic tang, and the bite hurt but the pain wasn't so distinguishable from the pleasure in the chaotic haze that was his mind. He gave in to instinct, hips straining upwards to shift against the strong waist that kept his legs parted, curling one calf around its side to rub against the emperor's hip cajolingly, emitting a quiet moan when he felt the emperor press down impossibly close, delicious friction spreading out from where their bodies were seamlessly melded to each other. 

To think they were still fully clothed. 

To think he'd managed to chink off a corner of that ironclad discipline, such that in the 'light of day, as bright as the sun and moon', this most powerful man in the country had abandoned reason for once to rut mindlessly with Yan Zheyun, making a mess of their robes in a place where he attended to matters of the state. 

He wasn't sure how they'd ended up like this, whether he'd been the one to seduce or be seduced, but he wasn't complaining. 

He was just doing his job, right?