294: Chapter 294 Morning!

A sliver of white light just began to appear on the horizon. The rumble of the volcano group came from far away, filtered through layers of palace walls, leaving only a very low and deep background sound, like the earth breathing in its sleep.

Qing Yanjing woke up first. She opened her eyes, and what came into view were the plain white gauze curtains of the guest room—this was the room she had been staying in for many days in the Imperial City, but today was different from the past. Today, there was someone else beside her pillow.

Hun Feng was still sleeping. He lay on his side facing her, his breathing even, his long hair scattered over the pillow. That face, which usually looked down upon the world, currently had no defenses; his brows were relaxed, and a faint, almost imperceptible curve hung at the corners of his mouth. Her hand was held in his palm, fingers interlaced—she didn't know if he had refused to let go before falling asleep, or if she had taken the initiative to hold onto him in her sleep.

Memories flooded back like a tide. Last night's family banquet, the girls holding back laughter while offering toasts, the ointment Yao Yao smeared on the rim of the cup, her being supported by Hun Feng as they walked through the quiet corridor, the very light "click" when the door was locked from the inside. Then came his slightly trembling fingertips when he leaned over, and his frozen expression when she opened her eyes. Those eyes—usually silver on the left and gold on the right, looking down upon the world—had widened at that moment like a young boy caught in the act of doing something wrong.

She couldn't help but curl her lips. She was only a few decades old, yet she felt she had experienced too much in this life—the halo of a Goddess, the sweetness of falling in love and having a child with Mu Feng, the loneliness of being imprisoned for over a decade, the confusion after regaining freedom. She thought she no longer had the ability to have her heart stirred. Yet last night, she was clearly not drunk, but she cooperated with the girls' schemes, letting a man carry her to bed while he was in a state of trepidation, thinking he was "taking advantage of the situation." She even remembered his fingers trembling slightly as he undid her sash, his breathing hot and rapid, and the kisses falling on her collarbone so lightly as if afraid of breaking some precious porcelain. At that time, she almost couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"What are you thinking about?" Hun Feng had woken up at some point and was looking at her with his head turned. His voice still carried the huskiness of just waking up, and her flushed face was reflected in his heterochromatic pupils.

"I was thinking about how your expression looked like you had seen a ghost when you realized last night that I wasn't drunk." Qing Yanjing mimicked his usual tone, though the end of her sentence rose slightly.

Hun Feng's expression indeed froze for an instant, then he rolled over and pressed her back into the brocade quilt, supporting himself with both hands on either side of her head, looking down at her. The morning light filtered through the window lattice, outlining the lines of his strong shoulders and back; his long hair hung down and fell against her cheek, feeling ticklish. He narrowed his eyes, his voice low and dangerous: "You still have the nerve to bring that up? You scared the life out of me. You clearly weren't drunk, why didn't you say so earlier? You made me anxious the whole way, thinking I was bullying a woman who was dead drunk."

"If I had exposed you, would you have had the courage to continue?" Qing Yanjing looked up at him. Her scattered long hair spread out on the pillow like splashed ink, and there was no hint of timidity in those amber phoenix eyes, only a trace of faint provocation. The shoulder strap of her undergarment had slipped to one side during the movements last night, revealing a large expanse of her lustrous shoulder and half of her delicate collarbone, with the morning light plating a layer of soft golden brilliance onto her ivory skin. She looked at his expression—half angry, half amused—and the curve of her lips deepened. Then she raised her hand, and her fingertips traced his Adam's apple very lightly and slowly. "Besides, the dignified Hall Master of the Spirit Hall, Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign, and Sixth Elder of the Great Thousand Palace—early in the morning, do you even have the guts to do it again?"

Hun Feng's pupils constricted slightly. When her fingertips brushed across his Adam's apple, his muscles tensed for an instant. He looked at this audacious woman beneath him—her phoenix eyes were filled with laughter and provocation, and that faint curve still hung at the corners of her lips; she was clearly provoking him on purpose. He said nothing, simply leaning down.

"Hun Feng—you—" Qing Yanjing's voice softened abruptly, the tail end of her words drowned out by his action of taking her earlobe into his mouth. She had originally just wanted to tease him and see him look thwarted, but she hadn't expected this man to be so easily provoked. She raised her hand to push him away, but her fingers touched his chest only to be caught and pressed against the pillow, their fingers interlaced. He lowered his head to kiss the side of her neck, her collarbone, and the faint old scar on her shoulder. His kisses were rapid and dense, carrying a bit of domineering retaliation after being provoked, and also a bit of the burning passion that had been suppressed all night and could finally be released openly.

"Last night doesn't count." He whispered low in her ear, his scorching breath spraying onto the most sensitive skin behind her ear. "Last night I thought you were drunk, so I was restrained. I'm making up for it now. As for whether I have the guts—you'll know soon enough."

Qing Yanjing bit her lower lip, wanting to retort, but was rendered unable to say a single word by his subsequent actions. Her golden vine-shaped headpiece had long been removed and placed on the pillow, her long hair scattered across the entire pillow, and she was sunken into the soft brocade quilt, trembling lightly with the rhythm. She turned her head away to bite the corner of the pillow, not wanting to make a sound, but was pulled back by her chin and kissed, all those broken whimpers swallowed into his lips and teeth. Her breathing became increasingly rapid, the coldness in those phoenix eyes completely shattered, leaving only misty water and a growing, tender charm. This time he was no longer as cautious as last night; every action carried a domineering determination to succeed, making even her fingertips tremble. She went from initial provocation to complete surrender, her fingertips leaving a few shallow red marks on his back, silently telling him—you win.

After a long time, everything finally calmed down. Qing Yanjing leaned on Hun Feng's shoulder, her long hair stuck to her forehead by a thin layer of sweat, her face so red it could drip blood. Wrapped in the brocade quilt, only a section of her fair shoulder was exposed, and she closed her eyes to adjust her breathing, her fingertips still gripping his fingers without letting go. She regretted it—regretted why she had provoked him just now. This man was simply a wolf; if you bared your neck to him, he wouldn't pet your head but would bite down directly.

"Hun Feng." She spoke, her voice hoarse and languid.

"Hmm?"

"I will never provoke you again." She kept her eyes closed as she said this, her voice muffled, carrying a rare touch of coquetry.

Hun Feng lowered his head and kissed the top of her hair, the corners of his mouth curling up uncontrollably. He pulled her tighter into his embrace, his palm gently stroking her smooth back. "Know you regret it now? It's too late. From now on, every time you provoke me, I will—" He whispered something in her ear, and Qing Yanjing's face, which had not yet lost its flush, instantly turned even redder. She raised her hand to slap his chest hard, but he caught her fingers and lightly bit them at his lips.

The two lingered for a while longer before getting up. When Qing Yanjing sat before the bronze mirror to do her makeup, Hun Feng walked up behind her, clumsily gathering her long hair and picking up the comb to brush it stroke by stroke. He brushed very slowly, his movements as unskilled as a little apprentice combing a girl's hair for the first time. Qing Yanjing watched him in the mirror—he had already put on his robes himself, but his belt was tied crookedly, and his collar wasn't straightened, clearly just thrown on in his hurry to come over and comb her hair.

"Your skills are really poor." She looked at the clumsy man in the mirror.

"I'll practice every day from now on, until I learn." Hun Feng didn't even look up, gathering the combed long hair to one side. He then picked up the pair of golden vine-shaped headpieces from her jewelry box, gestured for a long time without knowing where to start, and finally honestly handed them to her. Qing Yanjing took the gold ornaments and put them on herself, watching his expression of relief in the mirror, and suddenly let out a soft laugh.

She put down the comb and turned to face him. The morning light filtered through the window lattice behind her, plating her plain white dress with a layer of soft golden brilliance. She raised those amber phoenix eyes to look at him, her voice very soft, yet every word was as clear as if carved on a stone tablet: "Hun Feng, I never regret what I do. Last night was, and this morning is too. Mu Feng gave me Chen'er and the past; I will treasure those memories forever, but the living cannot be trapped by the past. From today on, I will live well with the memories of him, and at the same time, give you—give this new relationship—a future."

She paused, raised her hand to cover the back of his hand, and her fingertips gently hooked into the gaps between his fingers: "From now on, you are first in my heart."

Hun Feng was silent for a long while. He didn't say any flowery words, just turned his hand to hold hers, his grip a bit tighter than usual. Outside the window, the volcanoes rumbled as before, and the morning light fell on his face, making the light in his heterochromatic pupils appear exceptionally deep.

When the two walked out of the guest room side by side, the fragrance of breakfast had already drifted over from the flower hall. The seven wives and seven daughters were gathered together—Cai Lin sat in the main seat, Yao Yao lounged on a soft couch playing with a bone whip, Xun'er sat by the window wiping an ancient zither, Yun Yun and Cao Ying were whispering about something, Xiao Yi Xian was curled up in a corner flipping through a medical book, and Qing Yanjing's seat was arranged next to Cai Lin, with bowl and chopsticks already prepared. The seven daughters, from Hun Muxiao to Hun Mulan, sat in order on the other side of the long table, chattering and whispering to each other. Xue Wei leaned against the door frame, her deep purple eyes carrying a hint of amusement, as if watching a show.

No one pointed out what happened last night, but when everyone saw Qing Yanjing walk in, a flash of knowing amusement crossed their eyes. Yao Yao had the sharpest peach-blossom eyes; she caught a glimpse of the marks on Qing Yanjing's neck that couldn't be covered, and hurriedly lowered her head to sip tea, her shoulders trembling slightly—that was from holding back laughter.

Qing Yanjing did not sit down. She walked straight to Cai Lin, folded her hands in front of her, and bowed solemnly. She bent low, her plain white dress fluttering slightly in the morning light, and the golden vine-shaped headpiece exuded a warm luster.

"Sister Cai Lin, please take care of me in the future. If there is anything I do that is inappropriate, please speak frankly, Sister, and do not hesitate." Her voice remained as cold and calm as ever, but every word was spoken with great solemnity.

Cai Lin stood up, reached out with both hands to support her arms and lifted her up. Those purple snake eyes looked calmly at Qing Yanjing, and a faint smile appeared at the corners of her lips: "Sister is too polite. We are family, no need for this. From today on, you are a part of this Imperial City." She paused and added, "Your seat is next to me. The bowl and chopsticks have already been prepared."

Qing Yanjing took her seat beside Cai Lin. The seven daughters had already stood in a row in front of the table, coming forward one by one to offer tea and change their address. From Hun Muxiao to Hun Mulan, seven cups of tea were passed into Qing Yanjing's hands one by one. She took each cup, took a sip, and then softly called out that daughter's name. When it came to the youngest, Hun Mulan, the girl held the teacup with both hands and called out "Mother" in a crisp voice. Qing Yanjing took the teacup, raised her hand to gently stroke her head, her eyes slightly reddened, but she smiled and replied, "Good girl."

The family sat around the rosewood long table having breakfast. In front of Qing Yanjing, the dishes her sisters had served her were piled up—braised pork belly from Yao Yao, steamed fish from Xun'er, silver ear soup served by Yun Yun, spiritual fruit peeled by Cao Ying, and even Xiao Yi Xian silently pushed a plate of medicinal pastries to her side.

Yao Yao lounged in her chair with her legs crossed, spinning her bone whip in her hand twice. When her peach-blossom eyes fell on Qing Yanjing, that wicked smile grew deeper: "From now on, we are sisters in the same family; calling you Sister Qing would be too distant. From now on, I'll call you Sister Jing, how about that?"

"Sister Jing sounds good." Cao Ying took over the conversation, her phoenix eyes filled with smiles, "It doesn't sound distant. Sister Jing, if you need anything in the future, just ask."

Qing Yanjing curled her lips slightly: "Okay."

Yao Yao tilted her head to look at Hun Feng, her peach-blossom eyes filled with mischief: "Husband, you now have seven wives—Sister Cai Lin, me, Xun'er, Sister Yun Yun, Cao Ying, Xian'er, plus Sister Jing. Seven wives, seven daughters, you are now like a complete decadent emperor, sitting in the main hall with beauties in your arms, just missing a sign at the city gate that says 'Harem Restricted Area, No Unauthorized Entry'."

"Isn't that just perfect?" Hun Feng put down his porridge bowl and leaned back in his chair, his left arm around Cai Lin's shoulder, his right hand holding Qing Yanjing's hand resting on the table. His eyes and brows were filled with smug satisfaction, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the seven wives one by one, "Seven people, exactly one week, one person per day. Fair and reasonable, no one loses out."

The whole table went quiet for a moment. Then Cao Ying's chopsticks clattered onto the table, Yun Yun lowered her head and covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly, and Xun'er's hand holding the teacup shook, almost spilling the tea on her newly changed moon-white long dress. Cai Lin expressionlessly pinched him hard on the waist. Qing Yanjing lowered her eyelids, her earlobes quickly dyeing a layer of crimson, and when she tried to pull her hand out of his palm, he held it even tighter.

"Shameless." Xiao Yi Xian didn't even look up, turning a page of her book.

"Wife." Hun Feng turned to look at her and called her again, his tone as righteous as if he had discovered some truth, "How nice it sounds to call you wife. From now on, I'll call everyone wife—Wife Cai Lin, Wife Yao Yao, Wife Xun'er, Wife Yun Yun, Wife Cao Ying, Wife Xian'er, Wife Jing'er."

"Cheesy." Xiao Yi Xian's fingertips paused for a very brief moment on the page, then continued to turn the page, but the speed was noticeably slower by half a beat. Cao Ying, sitting beside her, secretly glanced at her flushed earlobes and, knowing better, said nothing.

"One person a day, you've arranged it quite neatly." Yao Yao laughed so hard her peach-blossom eyes curved into crescent moons, "Then who are you going to tonight? Yesterday was Sister Jing, today should be Sister Cai Lin's turn, right—no, does today count from yesterday? If yesterday was a family banquet and doesn't count, then let's rearrange tonight."

"Tonight I'm going to Wife Jing'er's." Hun Feng was dead serious, holding Qing Yanjing's hand and shaking it, "Yesterday wasn't an official schedule; today is the first day, starting with Wife Jing'er."

Qing Yanjing took a sip of tea amidst the laughter of the crowd, her face still maintaining that calm and indifferent expression, but the blush on her earlobes deepened another layer. After putting down the teacup, she tilted her head slightly and lowered her voice to say something to Hun Feng that only the two could hear: "Tonight you won't be as lucky as last night—I won't pretend to be drunk to cooperate with you again."

"Then I'll come openly." Hun Feng replied, also lowering his voice.

The others at the table didn't hear clearly what the two were whispering about, but seeing the slightly upward curve of Qing Yanjing's lips after she finished speaking, they all knew that this newly joined sister had already completely integrated into this lively, big family.

Laughter continued in the flower hall. The volcano group of the Burning Heaven Mountain Range spewed dark red magma in the morning light, and the battle flags of the Spirit Hall fluttered and snapped on the city walls. Qing Yanjing sat in the middle of everyone, surrounded by her sisters, called "Mother" by her daughters, and held by the hand by Hun Feng as he called her "Wife." Outside the window, volcanic ash drifted down slowly. She lowered her head and looked at her hand being held in his palm, her fingers tightening slightly to hold him back. This city built on the crater was already her home.