Uncontrolled Madness

Zongzheng Heng set Qiao Shuyi down and straightened her clothes, which had nearly slipped down to her waist.

"Shushu..." His voice was hoarse. "It's raining. We should go back."

Once Qiao Shuyi was dressed, he put his own robes in order.

Little by little, he tucked away the loss of control he had shown just now.

But Qiao Shuyi did not move.

She leaned against the tree trunk at her leisure, head tilted back, letting the cold rain strike her face.

The rain blurred her features.

"Zhigui, don't you like the rain?"

Zongzheng Heng stood a few steps away, watching her.

"I do, because the rain brought us to our senses. Shushu... today, I crossed the line."

Rain could bring people to their senses.

Rain could also wash away many things-blood, for instance, one's own and other people's, as well as the filth that could not bear the light of day.

So he really did like the rain.

Qiao Shuyi, however, laughed.

"Crossed the line?"

"Zhigui, I happen to like defying convention, not following rules to the letter. I want to shock the world, not put on a respectable human face."

A flicker passed through Zongzheng Heng's eyes.

"What are rules? They're made for servants. What are rites and propriety? They're chains for tethering dogs."

"And we stand above other people. We're the ones holding the leash."

She looked at him, her beautiful, glasslike eyes astonishingly bright, like two flames burning in the rainy night:

"I hate restraint, I hate good breeding, I hate respectability."

"Those are for other people."

She walked up to him and looked up at him:

"Between you and me, we should cross the line."

She suddenly looped both arms around his neck, rose on tiptoe, and leaned close to him.

"The world wants us to observe propriety, but I insist on stepping out of line. Just like a moment ago, when you held me with killing intent, I felt alive as I suffocated."

Zongzheng Heng's pupils contracted slightly.

She had sensed his killing intent?

Then why wasn't she afraid?

How could she still smile?

As though she had not seen the astonishment in his eyes, Qiao Shuyi raised a hand and stroked his face:

"Zhigui, I love rainy days, and I love even more... someone who goes mad with me on rainy days."

Zongzheng Heng gazed at her fairy-like face, then at her eyes, so unlike her face and brimming with madness. Wave after wave of shock surged through him.

She liked madness?

What a coincidence.

He liked it too.

The conventions of the world, rules, rites and propriety-he loathed them too.

But he was the emperor.

He had to obey, had to endure, had to be the "enlightened ruler" everyone saw.

But why should he, an emperor, live less freely than she, a woman?

Zongzheng Heng lowered his eyes.

When he raised them again, the mildness in them had completely vanished.

In its place was the self he had hidden for twenty-three years-his mad self.

Then-

He pressed her against the tree trunk again.

Rain poured down on them, soaking their entwined lips and tongues and their burning skin.

But they did not care.

They threw all restraint aside.

So completely that-

At some point, their clothes had all come off, soaked by the rain and heaped in disarray at their feet.

So completely that-

His hands traced every inch of her skin, every curve, every soft place.

She wrapped herself around his waist and tilted her head back.

She let the rain pour over her face, let his hands roam her body, let his burning breath fall on her neck.

And at that moment, Zongzheng Heng actually wanted to make her his woman in broad daylight, in the pouring rain.

What ordinary woman would have been willing?

Who would not want a bridal chamber lit with wedding candles, a sedan chair borne by eight men, the most formal ceremony to turn a maiden into a wife?

But she was different.

She wanted only this moment, only him, only to do as she pleased.

Just as they were about to cross that final boundary-

"Miss-!"

A voice carried from afar, piercing the curtain of rain.

"Miss, are you and Young Master Zhigui there-?"

It was Qingyan.

Qiao Shuyi lifted her eyes and met Zongzheng Heng's deep, dark gaze.

The madness in his eyes was fading little by little at Qingyan's calls.

But this time, she did not stop it.

It was her first time.

It was his first time too.

If they gave each other their first time in these conditions, her body would be the one to suffer in the end.

She gave his chest a gentle push and climbed down from him.

She bent down, picked up her rain-soaked clothes, and put them back on one piece at a time.

Her movements were unhurried, her expression composed.

Zongzheng Heng silently picked up his own robes, his movements as stiff as a string puppet's.

His eyes were lowered, and no emotion showed on his handsome face, which was as calm as a pool of stagnant water.

But in his heart, raging waves were crashing.

Absurd!

Utterly absurd!

How could he... how could he have nearly done that with her in broad daylight...?

How could he have let himself show that side of himself?

He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

Qiao Shuyi did not look at him. She simply lowered her head and tied her sash at an unhurried pace.

But the corners of her lips curved up slightly.

She knew only one thing-

Zongzheng Heng and she were the same kind of person.

She knew what Zongzheng Heng had been through in the book.

He had been oppressed and neglected since childhood. Later, when he gained power, he was still bound by "rules" and "rites and propriety." Later still, he became emperor and was constrained by that position.

Who wouldn't want to go mad without restraint just once?

It had been ten days.

From locking him in the water dungeon, to slapping him, to being entwined with him in the rain now-

She had been waiting for this moment.

Waiting for him to reach the brink of losing control, for the undercurrents surging in his eyes to burst through the dam, for the ruthlessness with which he wanted to tear her apart and devour her to show itself without disguise, for her to hear his burning breaths.

She was taming him.

And bringing him around to her way.

Letting him have a taste of unrestrained abandon such as he had never known before.

Once he had tasted it, he would never forget it.

Zongzheng Heng, can you still go back?

Can you still look at this world with those restrained eyes as you once did?

Can you still put on that deeply devoted act for your white moonlight?

The rain blurred her vision, but it could not blur the light in Qiao Shuyi's eyes, the certainty that she would have what she wanted.

Today, she was very satisfied, and very... excited.

Because she too liked this madness, this loss of control, these moments teetering on the edge of reason.

When Qingyan hurried over with an umbrella, she spotted two drenched figures from a distance.

Her heart tightened. She ran up to them and handed her spare umbrella to Zongzheng Heng, then held her own over her mistress.

"Miss, this rain came so suddenly. I came too late and let you and Young Master Zhigui get soaked like this. Sorry for the wait."

Qiao Shuyi gave Zongzheng Heng a meaningful look and said:

"Not late."

Qingyan kept working with her hands as she lowered her voice and said:

"Miss, someone came from the prince's residence just now."

"They said... Concubine Song suddenly fell gravely ill and can't even get out of bed. Several physicians took turns going in to examine her, and they all said... said Concubine Song won't live past three days. The prince wants you to return to the residence at once."

Qiao Shuyi listened without the slightest change in expression.

She raised a hand to straighten her cuff and said casually:

"Mm, then let's go back. It's time we did."

Zongzheng Heng stood a few steps away beneath his umbrella, his brows drawn together slightly.

For the past three days, he had hardly left her side.

She had seen no outsiders, sent no messages, and had not even released a single carrier pigeon.

If Song Chengyin's "grave illness" had anything to do with her, it could only mean she had arranged everything before leaving the prince's residence.

Then how much control did she have over the prince's residence?

He suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

This woman was far more inscrutable than he had imagined.

Qiao Shuyi.

He silently repeated those three words in his heart.

A woman like this should not be allowed to live.

How could he let someone who could so easily tug at his emotions live?

But deep in his heart, a trace of fear was spreading, one he himself was unwilling to acknowledge.

He did not fear her methods or her cunning.

What he feared was that he was sinking into it-and that he did not want to save himself.