Chapter Twenty-Three: Stirring the Imagination

After much deliberation, Jasmine could only choose three barely presentable garments to layer upon herself, but even so, her curves remained unmistakable, her spring-like beauty impossible to conceal, inviting endless imagination.

Lie Chang’an had repaired the boat with effortless ease, and waited outside the pavilion for over half an hour before finally hearing the door open behind him.

Turning around, his eyes suddenly narrowed and his heart trembled violently.

By the door stood a woman of enchanting grace, dressed in a sheer pink silk gauze, beneath which was a translucent blue-and-white patterned skirt. In the moonlight, her porcelain-white skin seemed to shimmer through the delicate fabric; as for her upper body, it was scarcely concealed—a scarlet peony bodice left little to the imagination, its perfect curve all but revealed.

Lie Chang’an’s heartbeat quickened and his whole body tensed; instinctively, he lowered his head, struggling to suppress the sound of his heated breath.

Though he was inexperienced in matters of intimacy, years in the army had left him no stranger to coarse jesting among the soldiers. For such attire to appear in this pavilion—a place strictly forbidden by imperial decree for any to enter without permission—one could well imagine the ambiguous scenes that might unfold within...

He understood that the princess had no choice but to dress this way; it was not her intention. Yet he was a young man in the flush of youth, and his thoughts inevitably wandered. Fearing he might lose composure, he hastily removed his outer robe and offered it to her, turning his face aside to avoid impropriety.

“Princess, the night air is cool. If you do not mind, please wrap yourself in my cloak for now.”

Gu Li, cheeks already flushed with embarrassment, bit her lip at the low timbre of his voice, quickly accepting the robe with a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

She had expected the moment to be awkward—for ever since meeting this man, their interactions had grown inexplicably close, and this time too was forced by circumstance. Yet, as a woman, she had summoned all her courage to step out, but in the end could not even raise her head to meet his gaze, wondering what he thought of her.

Would he see her as shameless, lacking all feminine reserve?

Or would he think her frivolous in demeanor, so unlike Princess Jian’an with her dignified, gentle, and gracious air?

Gu Li had never envied Jian’an’s temperament or poise, but now, for reasons she could not name, she found herself drawing constant comparisons, each thought weighing heavier on her heart, her head bowed, trembling, on the verge of tears.

Yet he did not place her in a humiliating position; instead, he thoughtfully spared her further discomfort.

Gu Li’s fingers traced the rough fabric of the cloak—so unlike the smooth silk she wore—yet she felt no disdain. Breathing in the faint, clean scent, reminiscent of soapberries, her cheeks flushed deeper and a sweet warmth blossomed in her heart.

Only after sensing her maid had helped her dress did Lie Chang’an dare look at her again.

Indeed, she was a beauty beyond compare. Even wrapped in his coarse cloak, her noble elegance could not be hidden; rather, it set off her snow-white skin and rosy cheeks, making her resemble a ripe peach, inviting a taste.

Lie Chang’an’s breath caught, his fists clenched tight, yet a bitter ache welled up inside him.

She was, after all, a flower of royal blood—never someone a mere commoner like him could ever hope to reach.

But in an instant, his expression returned to its usual cool detachment. “Princess, please board the boat.”

With General Chang’an steering, they reached the shore in less than a quarter of an hour.

After disembarking, General Chang’an, still uneasy, escorted them all the way back to the “Spring Dawn Residence.”

Only at the entrance to the garden did he finally take his leave.

Back in her room, Jasmine soon returned the cloak, her face wreathed in smiles as she thanked him repeatedly.

Lie Chang’an accepted it with only a nod, saying nothing more.

He gripped the rough fabric, watching the maid’s silhouette fade into the distance, and only then brought it slowly to his nose, breathing in the faint fragrance left behind—a scent that conjured all the heart-pounding images he had seen in the pavilion.

Lie Chang’an squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the robe in his hands, a burning sensation coursing through his chest, bittersweet and lingering.