Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Wardrobe is Stuffy
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"P-practice? What are you trying to do?"
Yeonhwa tried to back away, but her back was already pressed against the wall. Cheonwi dropped to one knee and approached her. An overwhelming wave of masculine allure washed over her.
"Excuse me."
"Wait, that's for putting on your lips..."
"There's no rule saying it has to be only on the lips."
Cheonwi's rouge-stained finger approached the spot behind Yeonhwa's earlobe.
Tok.
The cold rouge and his hot finger touched her at the same time.
"Hngh!"
Yeonhwa's shoulders jerked upward. The stimulation on the sensitive skin behind her ear stung like a jolt. Cheonwi pressed a red dot there, then slowly trailed his finger down along her neckline.
"This is near the Fengchi Acupoint. Nerves leading to the head converge here. A gentle scratch or a puff of breath, and most women will feel their legs go weak."
Cheonwi's voice was low and calm. But his touch was persistent, like a snake. The red line traced Yeonhwa's pale nape down to her collarbone.
"And here, the hollow dip in the collarbone."
Press.
Cheonwi firmly pressed the inside of her collarbone.
"Ah, ngh..."
A stifled moan escaped between Yeonhwa's lips. It wasn't a simple touch. A subtle flow of internal energy seeped from his finger, stimulating the nerves hidden beneath her skin.
"Good reaction. Once this opens, the qi and blood flow down to the chest."
Cheonwi's finger moved past her collarbone to the upper part of her chest. The heat from his finger transmitted directly through her thin silk robe. Yeonhwa could barely breathe. Her heart pounded like it would burst.
His finger stopped at the center between her breasts—the Tanzhong Acupoint.
"The most important spot."
Cheonwi stared straight into Yeonhwa's eyes.
"Your Majesty suffers from qi stagnation, so this is completely blocked. Unless we release it, any pleasure will turn to pain."
He applied pressure to his fingertip and circled over the Tanzhong Acupoint. A red circle formed on her silk robe, like a bullseye or a lewd brand.
He watched her reaction, adjusting the pressure. Yeonhwa's pupils dilated, her lips parted.
"Haa...! S-such a place... no one's ever touched..."
"That's why it was never any fun."
Cheonwi smirked and lifted his finger. But it wasn't over. His gaze drifted downward.
"That's enough for the upper body... now the lower."
"L-lower body?! No, absolutely not there..."
Yeonhwa clutched her skirt in horror. But Cheonwi ignored her. He lightly tapped the inside of her thigh, about a handspan above her knee.
"Just marking over the clothes. Relax."
Cheonwi pressed firmly into the deep inner thigh over her skirt.
"Xuehai Acupoint. 'Sea of Blood.' Directly linked to a woman's womb. Stimulating here..."
He rubbed the spot with his finger.
"Hyaaang!"
Yeonhwa's head snapped back. Even through her clothes, an electric jolt slammed into her lower abdomen. Her legs instinctively clamped together.
"It's just like an instrument. Tune it right, and you get a masterful performance."
Cheonwi assessed coolly as he dotted red marks all over her body.
Behind the ear, nape, collarbone, cleavage, side, and inner thigh.
Moments later, red rouge spots dotted Yeonhwa's white silk robe and exposed skin. Like scattered petals or post-coital kiss marks.
The sight was depraved and visually shocking. The noble Empress looked utterly lascivious covered in those red dots.
Yeonhwa stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror.
'Is this... me?'
Shame crashed over her like waves, but beneath it, hot excitement writhed. She'd never known her body was this sensitive. Everywhere he marked burned like fire.
"Today's lesson ends here."
Cheonwi finally withdrew his hand. Rouge still stained his index finger.
Yeonhwa slumped to the floor, gasping. Her eyes were unfocused, her clothes disheveled. Anyone would think she'd just finished an affair.
Cheonwi looked down at her and brought his rouge-stained finger to his mouth.
Lick.
He extended his tongue and licked off the rouge. A primal, erotic gesture. Yeonhwa swallowed dryly. The image of that finger—which had roamed her body—disappearing into his mouth burned into her mind.
"Sweet."
Cheonwi said curtly. Yeonhwa's face flushed crimson.
"Y-you...!"
"Review thoroughly. Your Majesty's body is just starting to awaken."
Cheonwi stood and brushed off his robes. His expression returned to that of a serene eunuch. The wild sexiness from moments ago was gone.
As he headed for the door, he paused as if remembering something and turned back.
"Oh, almost forgot."
"...What is it?"
Yeonhwa asked in a voice still unsteady.
Cheonwi's lip curled meaningfully.
"Word is... His Majesty will summon Your Majesty tomorrow."
"...!!"
Silence fell. Yeonhwa's eyes widened in shock.
"What... did you say?!"
A year. The Emperor, who hadn't visited in a full year, was coming tomorrow?
"Baek Noble Consort must have tattled about today. His Majesty is proud, so he'll come check himself. Whether the Empress banished to the Cold Palace dared defile the Noble Consort."
Cheonwi spoke casually, like it was someone else's business. To Yeonhwa, it was thunder from a clear sky.
"W-what do I do... I'm not mentally prepared..."
As flustered Yeonhwa flailed, Cheonwi winked reassuringly.
"Don't worry. Isn't it actually perfect?"
Cheonwi smiled, scanning the red dots on her body.
"A chance to put what you learned to use. Of course, I'll be your live coach."
With those loaded words, Cheonwi vanished like smoke.
Yeonhwa stood dazed, alternating between her dotted body and the closed door. Night breeze slipped through the cracks, cooling her hot cheeks, but the fire in her chest blazed fiercer.
"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor arrives!"
The eunuch's sharp cry shattered the Cold Palace's silence.
It hit Yeonhwa's eardrums like a death sentence. Her hand trembled as she held her teacup, spilling hot tea on her skin without feeling the burn.
It's real.
He really came.
"W-what do we do? If he finds you here..."
Yeonhwa paled and jumped up, trying to hide Cheonwi, who had come to coach her. The Emperor visiting the Cold Palace was a miracle, but having an outsider—a eunuch, no less—in the midst of that miracle spelled disaster.
"Calm down, Your Majesty. Your breathing is too ragged."
Cheonwi was unflappable. No, he seemed amused. He glanced around like he was on a picnic, then pointed to the imperial daybed where Yeonhwa usually slept. There was space under it for a grown man, perfectly hidden by the long hanging bedding.
"I'll go there."
"What? Under the bed, of all places! The wardrobe would be..."
"The wardrobe's too stuffy. And didn't I promise?"
Cheonwi grinned slyly. The smirk was so roguish, Yeonhwa was momentarily speechless.
"To give you 'live coaching' from below."
"You madman...!"
Creak. The door slid open. Cheonwi dove to the floor with agile grace, slithering under like a serpent.
"Don't give it away. Enjoy yourself."
His whisper came from the darkness under the bed. Before Yeonhwa could reply, the door flew open.
"......"
Emperor Hyeonjong stood there.
Clad in splendid dragon robes, his face was that of an overworked office worker trudging home—exhaustion, boredom, and a touch of irritation mixed.
Yeonhwa hastily straightened her robes and bowed.
"I greet Your Majesty. Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand..."
"Enough. Skip the formalities."
Hyeonjong waved dismissively and entered. Instead of gazing fondly at Yeonhwa, he checked if the room's temperature was right and if the bed was soft.
His purpose was clear. Not love or romance. To verify rumors of the Empress's stunning transformation and stamp approval on the imperial house's biggest issue: producing an heir.
Flop.
Hyeonjong roughly shed his outer robes—the crown and dragon gown tumbling to the floor before eunuchs could catch them.
"It's been a while, Empress. Have you prepared your body cleanly?"
No pleasantries—just straight to business. Mood setting? Sweet whispers? Luxuries he skipped. He seemed like a student rushing overdue homework.
Yeonhwa bit her lip. She'd expected it, but facing it brought waves of misery.
"Yes... I have prepared."
"Then no need to delay. I have early court tomorrow."
Hyeonjong strode over and sat on the daybed. Yeonhwa hesitantly sat beside him.
At that moment, under the bed.
Cheonwi propped his chin, eyeing the Emperor's feet before him.
'Look at those ankles. Classic weak lower body.'
Cheonwi clicked his tongue. The frailty he'd sensed in the gait was confirmed here. How could legs like that rule a nation or handle night duties? From a martial expert's view, the Emperor's lower half was a sandcastle.
'Her Majesty will have a rough night.'
Rustling came from above. Clothes shedding, dull flesh slapping.
"Lie down."
The Emperor's dry command fell.
Yeonhwa lay stiff as a wooden plank, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.
Soon, heavy weight covered her. Hyeonjong mounted her.
"Mm, I'm in good form tonight."
His delusion alone. He buried his nose in her nape, sniffed, then roughly smashed his lips against hers. Less a kiss, more a headbutt.
'It hurts...'
Yeonhwa squeezed her eyes shut.
The foreplay and warm-up Cheonwi taught yesterday didn't exist in the Emperor's dictionary. He went straight for her legs. Her unprepared body screamed, but he pushed in regardless.