The green gauze curtain hung low in the quiet bedchamber.
Ji Yanqing lay exhausted on the bed, a damp towel over his forehead. His princely python robe was gone, replaced by plain silk pajamas.
Changing the Heir’s clothes was typically a maid’s duty, but Lady Xie, deeming them too clumsy and fearing further harm, had personally dressed him.
Ji Yanqing, having fainted yet again, was oblivious.
Half-dreaming, he found himself by a boundless lake, its surface mirror-like, without a ripple.
Walking along the shore, the water—seemingly miles deep—didn’t touch his boots. Looking down, he saw only his reflection and a pair of dark green vertical pupils.
The pupils, dozens of meters wide, were near-oval, cold and sharp as unsheathed blades.
They gazed at him silently, unmoving.
His appearance, aura, heartbeat—everything was under their scrutiny.
No fear, no surprise, only an inexplicable closeness, as if the colossal creature beneath the lake was part of him.
Suddenly—
Roar!
A piercing dragon’s cry shook the skies, the mirror-like surface erupting into towering waves, threatening to engulf everything.
Ji Yanqing instinctively struggled, but his limbs felt bound by thousand-jin chains, powerless. He was swept into the lake’s depths.
The icy water enveloped him, bone-chilling.
His vision blurred.
In the final moment before losing consciousness, Ji Yanqing glimpsed the creature lurking below.
A jet-black, five-clawed true dragon.
…
Pain!
Agony!
The surreal dream shattered, Ji Yanqing’s mind slowly returning from the endless lake to reality.
His vision, first hazy, then cleared.
Before him was Auntie Xie’s breathtakingly beautiful face.
Pale, Xie Lingwan sat carefully on the edge of the soft couch, her hips brushing Ji Yanqing’s waist. Her inky hair fell gently, her head resting quietly on his chest, her flushed face adorable.
Ji Yanqing’s playful side stirred. He poked her dimple, her skin smooth as jade.
As the legitimate daughter of the Gusu Xie clan, Xie Lingwan, widowed for years, maintained herself impeccably. Though a mature beauty in her mid-twenties, her skin was smoother than a fifteen-year-old’s.
Her figure was fuller, with a wasp waist, rounded hips, and soft, lively curves under her tight crimson palace gown, accentuating her feminine allure.
Xie Lingwan let out a soft moan, her lashes fluttering, murmuring sleepily, “Yanqing, be gentle~ I’m your aunt!”
Feeling something odd at her hip, she rubbed her eyes, waking from a dreamy haze.
Their gazes met.
Awkwardness spread through the room.
“Yanqing, I was worried about you… and fell asleep,” Xie Lingwan said, her face rosy as dawn, biting her lip to suppress panic. If Yanqing had heard her dream-talk, how could she, his aunt, live with herself?
Noble families were already tangled. If word got out, she’d be branded a seductress ruining the Gusu Xie clan’s century-long honor.
‘Doomed, doomed, doomed…’
“Um… Yanqing, I might’ve mumbled nonsense in my sleep. Don’t take it to heart,” she probed, voice faltering, hands gripping her skirt, practically screaming guilt.
“I just woke up, didn’t hear any dream-talk,” Ji Yanqing said with a smile, his filial heart sparing her embarrassment.
“Good, I was worried you’d misunderstand,” she said.
No real misunderstanding—her dream involved disheveled clothes, saccharine words, and fallen morals…
But as a noble lady with thin skin, Xie Lingwan needed saving face, and Ji Yanqing played along.
“By the way, Auntie Xie, you haven’t answered if you’ll join me at Nanshan Temple for a marriage reading. You’re so beautiful—countless suitors must await Rouge List’s ninth-ranked Xie Lingwan to remarry,” he teased.
“Such a smooth talker~” Xie Lingwan chided, but her fox-like eyes flicked to her nephew, betraying complex emotions beyond mere affection.
“I’ll go with you to Nanshan when the weather clears,” she said, her cherry lips curving into a smile.
Yet, her heart was heavy.
Yanqing, the Wei King’s Heir in his prime, thinking of romance was natural.
If the girl was from a noble family, on the Rouge List, poised, virtuous, and deeply bonded with him, she wouldn’t interfere.
But by her standards, only one candidate fit.
A marriage reading was fine, but why drag a widow along for such a sensitive matter? It defied reason.
Unless Yanqing…
Her head lowered, her face burned scarlet.
“Yanqing, I have a question,” she said.
“Speak freely, Auntie,” he replied.
With a soft hum, Xie Lingwan spun a tale. “I have a friend, also from a noble clan, widowed young. She’s guarded her chastity for years but fell for her sworn sister’s son. Is there hope for them?”
Faced with such a direct hint, Ji Yanqing was speechless. Love makes fools of even the sharpest minds, he thought. Otherwise, clever Auntie Xie wouldn’t hint so blatantly.
Or maybe she was just pent-up.
“It’s possible. They’re not blood-related, just nominal aunt and nephew—not truly unethical,” he said.
“Good, good,” Xie Lingwan said, her hand on her chest, secretly elated.
She pressed, “Could my friend be a consort? Or even a concubine?”
“Auntie, if I were that friend’s nephew, I wouldn’t make her a consort or concubine,” Ji Yanqing said.
“Why? What’s wrong with… my friend?” Xie Lingwan asked anxiously, trembling.
As a noble, Xie Lingwan valued status. Concubine was her last stand. If Ji Yanqing refused even that…
She’d take what she wanted her way.
“No, I mean a peerless, noble beauty like your friend deserves at least a side consort in the Wei King’s Mansion,” he clarified.
Xie Lingwan’s face lit up, her fingers tucking hair behind her ear, exuding charm. Her legs pressed together, she shyly glanced at him.
Before he could react, she cupped his longed-for face and boldly kissed him.
Their lips met, cool and soft…
Bro the aunt made the mc into a pervert way before he screwed the empress and led her through 30 odd positions.