TSLSILMH Ch 50

Chapter 50

“…I like you.”

Xie Shu heard the sound—low, vibrating—from his chest and throat, filling his ears.

It was then he realized—it was his own voice.

Without hesitation. No pause, no doubt.

His heart had already given the answer.

Though he knew it all might be nothing but a dream—fleeting as mist. Though they were born in utterly different times, separated by an entire world and space, still—he liked him.

He could no longer deceive himself, nor the Young Lord before him. And when he heard in turn that wavering voice declare affection—it pierced his very core.

He thought he would never forget this moment.

Tears shimmered unshed in Yu Chuxi’s eyes, but his gaze was bright, steady as light.

He was braver. More resolute.

Xie Shu wrapped arms tight around him, unable to let go. Yet he knew—some truths must be spoken.

His lips parted, ready to begin.

But then Yu pressed his head against Xie Shu’s neck, rubbing gently, leaving behind warmth.

Xie Shu stiffened, shaken from marrow. So it was real. Yu truly liked him.

When Yu lifted his face again, lashes trembling wet, tears now like scattered starlight, his lips curved alive with brilliance, as everything else seemed to fall away—“Xie Shu, that is enough. I don’t want to hear anything more.”

Xie Shu gazed at him—helpless, touched. He let out a long sigh. “Yes… I do like you.”

Yet before he could continue, Yu looked up, smiling, red staining his eyes like rouge, beauty flickering bright and sharp, lips parted, warm breath scented.

Sitting in his lap, arms still curled around his neck, his breath clinging upon Xie Shu’s chest, his form soft, delicate.

Xie Shu’s throat dried. Words failed him. When he fell silent, Yu tilted his head puzzled, softly humming a questioning “Mm?”

The sound trembled like water ripples in spring.

Xie Shu’s gaze deepened instantly, struck aflame within. Breath rose hot, crawling over skin where their warmth touched.

In the next heartbeat, he bent down, pressing his lips against Yu’s.

At first, gentle, slow, lips brushing with restrained care.

But the moment Yu’s lips parted faintly—a voiceless invitation—the blaze surged, restraint breaking like thunder. He dove deeper, conquering, overwhelming, devouring.

It struck Yu like crashing waves. Only now he realized the peril of igniting such fire. His body panicked, wanting escape, to breathe.

Yet his struggle was weak. For Xie Shu needed no force. His hand pressed the back of Yu’s neck lightly, warm, rough palm sending shivers, guiding him deeper, steadier.

Until Yu let slip a muffled whimper, pitiful as a cub’s cry, laced faint with plea.

Then Xie Shu slowed, tongue tracing softly, tenderly, while Yu trembled within his grasp, limp, flushed, breath faint.

Xie Shu finally pulled back.

Yu gasped, body weak as water, sagging into him.

Looking up, he saw sweat streaking along Xie Shu’s temple and hairline, brows knit, eyes like storm-tossed sea—barely, desperately restrained.

Then Xie Shu guided him straight, seating him upright.

Yu blinked in confusion.

Xie Shu closed his eyes once, voice hoarse and raw: “Young Lord… don’t move.”

Pouting faintly, Yu obeyed, though hurt flickered in his chest. Why push him away, after such devoted kiss?

But how could Xie Shu bear it? He had felt before the fever’s tide within him, but never so fierce.

Yu’s lashes lifted, eyes wide as realization dawned. For a moment he averted, shy, but gaze slid downward, cheeks flushed, ears red.

Beads of sweat slid down Xie Shu’s face. He buried his head against Yu’s hair, whispering low, taut with restraint: “Young Lord… wait till later. Let us wed anew.”

For he would not harm him in haste, nor act in deceit. He was not the same Xie Shu Yu had once wed. He needed to give him a truer bond, a vow. A true wedding, his heart pledged, for all his days.

Yu’s eyes stung, bittersweetness flooding his chest. He had never thought Xie Shu would speak such words—so precious, so sincere, so moving.

To be loved by him—was such joy.

Yu lay nestled quiet, breath gentle, daring not disturb. And Xie Shu pressed closer, nose lost in the fragrance of his hair, eyes falling shut.

Only long after did the fire within him ebb.

He straightened Yu’s clothes, setting him gently down—and turned to the matter at hand.

The work of the palace.

Three months. Choice of the grounds. So many details and risks.

“Gonggong gave us twenty thousand taels,” Xie Shu remarked darkly.

Yu only nodded, unsurprised. Still sufficient—so long as handled well, risks might birth profit. The praise of Emperor, the rise of Yu’s house to unmatched standing among merchants—if the palace showed splendid…

But haste was danger. The choosing of site was crucial.

“Longtan must be refused,” Yu reasoned. “Though scenic by the lake, too far, too exposed. The Emperor’s safety outweighed beauty.”

Other sites were dismissed too, one by one. Precision, caution, care—all must be flawless for court.

Finally Yu asked: “And—you inquired of His Majesty’s pleasures?”

“I did.” Xie Shu’s eyes softened, rare intimacy shown. “Poetry, ink, music most of all. He indulges luxury yet fears reproach, prefers grandeur yet fears being seen too greedy. A man of contradictions, even with Throne.”

Yu laughed faintly at the image. For the first time, he saw—imperial power, too, was human frailty.

Eyes lit warm, mind alive with thought, a plan forming. His smile curved, cunning, like a hidden jewel. He leaned close against Xie Shu’s ear, whispering with glittering eyes:

“I have an idea. Will you hear it?”