Chapter 631: Who Awakens First from the Great Dream, I Know My Own Life

Chapter 631: Who First Awakens from the Great Dream? I Know My Own Life All Along

Zhao Changhe carried Tang Wanzhuang openly all the way into the inner palace.

Within the inner palace lay the emperor's private hot spring bath, though Xia Longyuan had never once used it himself—he was free of dust and grime, with no need for bathing. The only one who had ever used this bath was the long-executed empress; even Huangfu Qing had never done so, and in theory, she could not come without an imperial summons.

Yet even though it was rarely used, a large staff still tended it daily, cleaning and changing the water. Everywhere, steam and mist swirled, making the place feel like a fairyland—far more impressive than the Huaqing Pool one might see on a modern tour.

The palace maids, all clad in sheer gauze, watched timidly as Zhao Changhe carried Tang Wanzhuang inside. They knelt in the misty haze, waiting in reverence, while fruits and refreshments were laid out by the pool—a scene of decadent luxury.

This was why people wanted to be emperor.

Now, Zhao Changhe was practically the emperor within the palace, perhaps even more so than Xia Chichi. After all, the "Dowager Empress" would never obey Xia Chichi; with her mask on, she might as well order Xia Chichi to copy books, but the Dowager Empress belonged to him.

But Xia Longyuan, who seemed like an NPC in this world, had no such desires, and neither did Zhao Changhe. Without love, it was meaningless. If he wanted women, why would he need the palace? Countless renowned chivalrous ladies across the land would gladly throw themselves at him.

Glancing at the timid, gauze-clad maids, Zhao Changhe felt not a flicker of interest. He simply said, "All of you, leave."

The maids, unsure whether they were relieved or slightly disappointed, bowed and withdrew.

In his arms, Tang Wanzhuang secretly glanced up at him, then turned her head and said, "Go and summon Baoqin for me..."

A voice from outside replied, "Yes."

Zhao Changhe chuckled. "What, afraid I'll be corrupt? Even if I were, I wouldn't do it in front of you."

Tang Wanzhuang didn't fully grasp the word "corrupt," but she understood from the context. She said, "You must not fall into depravity... Huangfu Qing's hand hasn't reached every corner of the palace yet. There are countless hidden agents from various families here..."

"Alright, alright..." Zhao Changhe laughed helplessly, teasing her on purpose. "Now there's no one to serve us. What do we do?"

Tang Wanzhuang bit her lower lip, turned her head away, and said, "Put me down... I... I will serve you..."

Seeing her shy, blushing face as she spoke those shameful words was utterly captivating. Zhao Changhe sat by the pool, holding her sideways on his lap, and whispered in her ear, "I think... it's better if this subordinate serves the Chief..."

Sure enough, this was even more embarrassing than ordering her to serve. In the mist of the hot spring, Tang Wanzhuang's face flushed all the way to the base of her neck. She squirmed and struggled, "You... you... at a time like this, you still mock me with those words..."

Her feeble struggles were no match for his iron grip. As she struggled, she realized her belt had been deftly undone.

Tang Wanzhuang angrily reached to cover it, thinking to herself, You're far too skilled at this...

Her slender hand was caught, and his lips brushed her ear as he murmured, "Are you hot? Let your disciple help the master undress."

Tang Wanzhuang: "..."

Hadn't he had enough of this?

She was still wearing a thick fur coat, and in the steam of the hot spring, she was indeed beginning to feel warm. Her pretty face was flushed, and it was hard to tell how much was from shyness and how much from the heat.

Her hand was weakly pushed aside, and the fur coat fell open, revealing the plain white garments beneath.

"Rebellious disciple..." Tang Wanzhuang's heart inexplicably fluttered with panic. Her slender fingers clenched tightly at her side, but she obediently offered no resistance as he continued to unfasten her clothes.

Zhao Changhe couldn't take his eyes off her.

He had tasted both the carefree chivalrous woman and the seductive enchantress, but Tang Wanzhuang was the most unique sight of all. And in this moment, she was especially beautiful...

She was, after all, widely acknowledged as the most beautiful woman in the world. Though that title might have been bolstered by her frailty and status, the greatest charm lay in her unparalleled temperament in the martial world.

And when that temperament was being defiled, it stirred the heart most deeply.

His fingers parted her garments, gliding over her skin—cool, smooth, like jade or lard. At that single touch, Tang Wanzhuang couldn't help but tremble. She whispered, "Don't toy with me, please..."

She knew he was savoring her, like a work of art.

Zhao Changhe couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just checking if you're clean enough..."

Tang Wanzhuang choked with frustration. "You..."

The next moment, her clothes flew through the air, landing who knows where. Zhao Changhe carried her and plunged into the water with a splash.

The heat of the hot spring made Tang Wanzhuang gasp, stifling any words she might have spoken.

His palm radiated warmth, hotter than the spring, channeling directly into her meridians.

Tang Wanzhuang's heart stirred. Even now, Zhao Changhe hadn't forgotten his true purpose—to heal her injuries.

She turned her eyes, which had been stubbornly averted, and saw the tender, pitying look in Zhao Changhe's gaze.

They gazed at each other for a long moment, and Tang Wanzhuang's eyes gradually grew misty, more hazy than the steaming pool.

She mustered a little strength, leaning back into his embrace, and reached out her slender hand to wash him in return, muttering, "You're the one who's not clean..."

Zhao Changhe laughed. "Then help me wash."

Tang Wanzhuang gently scrubbed him, then slowly pressed her red lips to his neck. "You insisted on playing... it's only right that I serve my lord..."

In the hazy mist, the atmosphere grew increasingly languid.

Zhao Changhe drifted into thought—did this scene feel like a dream? More unreal than the dreams he'd had in class back then, more surreal than the VR illusions of the Heavenly Book.

It could make a person sink into it, never wanting to wake.

He even feared that when he woke, he'd be back in that classroom.

...Why think so much? Wasn't Tang Wanzhuang here, solidly in his arms, his to savor?

He lowered his head, found her lips, and kissed her fiercely.

Tang Wanzhuang stopped moving and closed her eyes.

She could feel his muscles tense up more than before, his embrace tightening as if he wanted to crush her into himself. Inexperienced, she thought it was just his passion rising, his intent to press forward. She whispered nervously, "Wanzhuang is frail, my lord... please be gentle..."

Zhao Changhe panted softly and murmured, "Wanzhuang..."

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes I'm afraid... that all this is but a dream."

Tang Wanzhuang was startled for a moment, then reached up to gently wrap her arms around his neck. She said softly, "Once you possess it, it becomes real."

Baoqin stood outside, scratching her head, listening to the sounds within. She didn't know whether she should enter. It felt strange—why was it so quiet in there?

Could it be that the big dumb bear was actually useless?

Just as she thought that, she heard her mistress let out a pained cry, as melodious as an oriole's song.

Baoqin stepped back a few paces, sat down on the couch where the maids usually waited, hugged her knees, and stared up at the ceiling.

The young mistress had finally grown up. What a worry she'd been for Baoqin.

It seemed there was nothing to do tonight. Time to sleep.

Surely they wouldn't call Baoqin in to clean up. The young mistress had never ordered anyone to do that. She wondered if that big dumb bear would be that disgusting.

...

The big dumb bear wasn't that disgusting. In fact, the two of them never left the hot spring pool that night.

No matter how many twists and turns, how much tender affection, the core of that night was still healing.

When true yin-yang union was achieved through dual cultivation, with both sides opening their hearts and working in harmony, the effect was incomparable to the earlier, superficial kisses and breath transfers.

Of course, even if they had used dual cultivation earlier, it wouldn't have done much good. Back then, the medicinal ingredients weren't complete, and Zhao Changhe's own Spring Return Art wasn't advanced enough.

After the Tianya Island incident, Zhao Changhe's Spring Return Art had reached a very high level, almost capable of reviving the dead. With the manifestation of faith power, he had pulled San Niang back from the brink of soul annihilation and rapidly healed a body ravaged by a divine weapon like the Sea King's Trident. In truth, Tang Wanzhuang's illness was far less severe than San Niang's injuries at that time.

But Tang Wanzhuang's condition was a chronic, deep-seated illness that had reached an incurable stage, affecting every aspect of her being. Even her constitution had been severely damaged. A top-tier expert like her now feared the cold, and countless hidden ailments lurked within her body, each needing to be addressed one by one... To completely cure and reverse this would be relatively more tedious and time-consuming, but the difficulty wasn't too high—just a matter of patient, persistent effort.

Patient, persistent effort—in the physical sense.

The two of them lingered in the water from afternoon until nightfall, and at last, both utterly exhausted, fell into a deep sleep right there in the pool.

This was the first time Zhao Changhe had ever ended a dual cultivation session not invigorated but instead completely drained alongside his partner, yet even in their dreams they held each other tightly, each wearing a sweet smile.

They awoke with a start in the dead of night; opening their eyes, they saw the pool was still warm—a geothermal hot spring that would never grow cold.

The soft jade in his arms remained, curled up and sleeping sweetly... This was perhaps the deepest sleep Tang Wanzhuang had enjoyed in years.

Zhao Changhe gazed down at her, and could not help but lightly peck her lips once more: "Awakening from a great dream, still the same—how wonderful."

At that moment, he even forgot that his foremost goal after crossing over had been to return.

Like a drop of water falling from the sky into the pool, merging with it, no longer any different.