Qiao Shuyi, I Will Kill You

When Zongzheng Heng woke, he felt a soft, warm weight against the left side of his chest.

He lowered his head slightly and saw the crown of a dark-haired head resting securely in the crook of his arm.

Her breathing was slow and even. Curled up in his embrace, she slept without the slightest guard.

He froze for a moment.

Memories of last night came flooding back-

The cloying sweetness of the aphrodisiac incense, the heat that had burned away his senses, the urge that had driven him to roll over and pin her beneath him once the silk ribbons came loose... The scenes came in fragments, but they were enough for him to piece together the whole picture.

He looked down at the two of them.

The brocade quilt was in disarray, their clothes were scattered across the floor, and neither of them wore a stitch.

He looked away from her peaceful sleeping face and was about to get up-

When a flash of red on the right side of his chest caught the corner of his eye.

"Shushu."

The graceful, crimson characters were like a flower blooming on his flesh, engraved into the skin below his collarbone.

In that instant, everything from last night became utterly clear.

She had carved characters into his body.

She really had... carved them.

Zongzheng Heng's eyes abruptly darkened.

It was not ordinary anger, but a dark malice unlike anything he had ever felt before, a black mass that threatened to swallow everything.

It was as though twenty-three years of forbearance and restraint had shattered all at once, exposing the bottomless abyss beneath.

How dare she?

How dare she!

Zongzheng Heng flipped over and clamped a hand around her neck, his five fingers tightening against the slender bones of her throat.

Qiao Shuyi jolted awake.

She opened her eyes and met a pair of scarlet ones.

They held nothing but naked killing intent.

She did not struggle, nor was she even nervous.

Qiao Shuyi tilted her head back and let his hand grip her throat. Looking at his face, slightly twisted with rage, she smiled softly.

"Zhigui, if you kill me, you won't make it out of this room either. What, do you want to die with me? I'm not afraid of death. As long as I can share a quilt with you in life and a grave in death-"

She raised a hand and laid it over the one gripping her throat. She made no attempt to pry it loose, merely rested her hand there as though caressing a beloved object:

"I'll be content."

Zongzheng Heng's grip tightened further.

Her face began to flush, and her breathing grew rapid.

Yet the eyes gazing at him remained full of laughter, without a trace of fear.

How could she still smile?

Madwoman!

Was she truly unafraid of death?

His fingers were trembling.

He had seen people who did not fear death.

The deathsworn on the battlefield who had embraced certain death, the loyal ministers at court who had risked their lives to remonstrate with their ruler-they did not fear death because they had something they sought, something they protected.

But what about her? What did she seek? What did she protect?

Zongzheng Heng abruptly released her.

Qiao Shuyi broke into a violent fit of coughing, her chest heaving as she gulped down air.

But even as she coughed, she began to laugh again.

Braced above her, Zongzheng Heng gazed deeply into her eyes.

The scarlet had not yet faded from his eyes, but the frenzied killing intent had given way to a deeper, colder darkness.

"Qiao Shuyi, I will kill you. If not now, then someday, I will kill you."

Qiao Shuyi raised an eyebrow, then lifted her waist and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"All right. I'll wait for you to kill me. I'll die by your hand willingly."

Zongzheng Heng's chest heaved violently, the breath trapped in his throat, unable to rise or fall.

He truly loathed her like this.

She was the one who had deceived and humiliated him, who had carved a mark into his body that could never be erased. Yet in the end, she put on an air of unrepentant devotion, as if she were not the one in the wrong, but he for failing to appreciate it.

He was about to speak when Qiao Shuyi suddenly raised her head and kissed him on the lips.

Zongzheng Heng clenched his fists and was about to push her away, but she drew back a little on her own.

"Zhigui, you hurt me last night."

Qiao Shuyi took his hand and placed it on the soft swell of her chest.

Zongzheng Heng's hand trembled, and he instinctively tried to pull it back, but she held it firmly in place.

He had known it that day they rode horses in the woods-

This madwoman had the face of an immortal maiden untouched by a speck of dust, yet the body of a temptress.

She curved where she should curve, was slender where she should be slender, and was so soft in the right places that one could squeeze water from her.

It was no exaggeration to call her a rare beauty.

Now she lay beneath him, her eyes shimmering and her breath fragrant as an orchid.

A heat rose in Zongzheng Heng's body, seemingly beyond his control.

Qiao Shuyi swayed with her arms around his neck, acting spoiled and pitiful.

"Zhigui, you must make it up to me today. The matron said that doing that... would feel wonderful. But last night, I was tired and sore."

Zongzheng Heng stared at her, the fire in his chest burning fiercer.

That fire was not anger, but hatred.

He spoke in a low voice. "Shushu, do you know-I hate you."

He hated her innocent manner, hated her ever-clear, guileless eyes, hated that she was plainly a madwoman yet insisted on putting on an air of unrepentant devotion.

She had carved characters into his body. It was the punishment of facial tattooing, a disgrace branded into his flesh, a mark that could never be washed away.

He should push her away, put on his clothes, and get as far from this madwoman as possible.

But he did not move.

"I know. Zhigui, of course I know you hate me."

Qiao Shuyi raised her hand and placed it over the two characters on his chest.

"But so what? You hate me, but you can't kill me right now. You hate me, but your body doesn't hate me. You hate me-"

Her fingertip stopped over his heart and tapped lightly:

"But right now, you don't want to leave."

Zongzheng Heng's pupils contracted slightly.

"Zhigui, life is short, no more than a few decades. Whether you hate me or resent me, don't you still have to live through these days?"

"You want me right now. I can feel it. I want you right now too-and that's enough. Why think about all those other things? Disgrace, hatred, the future-it's all an illusion. Only this moment is real."

"Zhigui, you make life too hard for yourself. Rules, dignity, honor and disgrace, hatred-you place too much importance on them. But what can those things give you? Can they make you happy?"

"I don't want you thinking about them. All I want is for you to be happy right now."

Zongzheng Heng looked into her eyes, so clear they were almost cruel, and felt as though something were blocking his throat.

He could not think how to refute her.

He had read so many books by the sages, learned so much about governing a state, and witnessed so many worldly rises and falls, yet at this moment he could not find a single word to refute this madwoman.

Was she wrong?

Rules, dignity, honor and disgrace, hatred-could those things truly make him happy?

He had lived twenty-three years and ascended to the most exalted position under heaven, but when had he ever truly been happy?

Yet during these past dozen or so days, at this madwoman's side, he had occasionally felt... happy.

The moment the thought surfaced, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Absurd.

Utterly absurd.

Yet her fingertips were still resting against his cheek, warm and soft, gently stroking him again and again.

His body remembered that touch, remembered the wild, unrestrained moments of last night that had made him forget everything.

His body did not hate her.

His body wanted her.

Qiao Shuyi looked at the conflicting emotions in his eyes, raised her head, and kissed the corner of his lips.

"Zhigui, your hand is so hot."

As she spoke, her fingertips traced the back of the hand holding her *, then slipped bit by bit between his fingers, intertwining all ten of them.

Zongzheng Heng closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When he opened them again, most of the struggle in his eyes had faded, leaving only a bottomless darkness.

He lowered his head and kissed her fiercely.

She was the one who had come to him, so he might as well indulge himself.

Before long, he would kill her with his own hands.