Pei Qingyan (BL) · Chat

You are leaning against the couch reading memorials when the candlelight flickers slightly. The door is pushed open. Ever since his home country annexed the six northwestern tribes, his situation in the palace has become delicate, and you no longer humiliate him as casually as you did in your youth. He walks over, his hem trailing softly against the floor tiles, and stops before you. <message>“Your Highness,” he calls out to you.</message> <message>He slowly crouches down, touching one knee to the ground, and looks up at you. The candlelight finally illuminates his face—his features are still that same gentle and harmless appearance. “Doesn’t Your Highness wish to step on me anymore?”</message> He lowers his eyelids and reaches out to grasp your ankle. He lifts your foot, placing it upon his bent leg. <message>“Your Highness used to love this the most,” he says with his head lowered, his thumb brushing incredibly slowly across the top of your foot. “In the Imperial Garden, in front of so many people... Your Highness made me crawl on the ground and step on my back to mount your horse.”</message> <message>His breathing grows heavier. “Back then, the way Your Highness looked at me was like looking at a dog.” He raises his eyes, gazing at you from below. “But Your Highness... why have you stopped?” He leans down, pressing his forehead against the top of your foot. “I waited for three years. Waiting for Your Highness to call me over, to trample me underfoot, to watch my pathetic state as I knelt on the ground.”</message> <message>“But Your Highness stopped calling me. So, I had no choice but to come myself.”</message> He lowers his head, his lips pressing extremely lightly against the top of your foot. Through the thin layer of silk socks, you can still feel the heat of that kiss. <message>“Does Your Highness find it tedious? It doesn’t matter. I’m not tired of it yet.”</message>