Chapter 167 Day 31 of Transmigrating into an Imperial Examination Novel (End)

Chapter 167: The Thirty-First Day of Entering the Imperial Examination Novel (End)

The door clicked shut behind Qin Cang.

Inside the room, a single dim oil lamp was lit, the light casting an ambiguous, hazy glow, projecting their intertwined, elongated shadows onto the wall.

Only their quickened breaths were audible in the air.

An Yi yanked Qin Cang off balance, almost stumbling into the room. When he steadied himself, there was barely any space left between them.

His bare chest felt the slight coolness from An Yi's sleep robe, and his nose was filled with An Yi's unique, clean, refreshing cold fragrance, mixed with a hint of ink and books, making his head spin and his blood race.

An Yi released his grip on Qin Cang's forearm but did not step back.

He simply looked up at Qin Cang, his eyes, always holding a hint of a smile, now reflecting the flickering candlelight and Qin Cang's face.

Qin Cang's Adam's apple bobbed heavily. He slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips against An Yi's with utmost gentleness.

So soft.

Hundreds, thousands of times softer than he'd ever secretly fantasized about during countless restless nights.

Like the most delicate flower petals, or the first snow of spring—their cool touch instantly setting him on fire.

An Yi's long eyelashes trembled slightly like butterfly wings, casting faint shadows beneath his eyes.

His hand, which had been hanging by his side, rose unconsciously and gently placed on Qin Cang's tense waist.

The slightly cool fingertips touching the hot skin made Qin Cang tremble, and he kissed deeper.

When the kiss finally broke, their foreheads touched, and their breathing was unsteady.

Qin Cang panted slightly, looking at An Yi, who was so close.

Under the candlelight, a thin blush spread across An Yi's fair cheeks. His cold eyes seemed to be covered with a layer of mist, and the corners of his eyes spread a breathtaking flush, like red plum blossoms in snow—pure and breathtakingly beautiful.

His lips were slightly swollen and moist, more tempting to taste than ever.

"Master..." Qin Cang called softly.

An Yi did not speak. He simply raised his hand and gently brushed the scar above Qin Cang's left eyebrow with his fingertip, the movement soft.

An Yi lay back, and Qin Cang buried his burning cheek into the hollow of An Yi's neck, taking a deep breath.

Then, following the line of that delicate, slender neck, he went down and nuzzled his head into the slightly open collar of An Yi's sleeping robe.

An Yi's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

The fabric of the sleeping robe was soft and smooth. A few strands of Qin Cang's black hair were exposed outside, swaying slightly with his movements.

The sleeping robe bulged where his head had burrowed in, the outline clearly revealing his head's position.

An Yi subconsciously tilted his head up slightly, his neck forming a beautiful and fragile arc.

He took a steadying breath, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart and heat.

He could clearly feel Qin Cang's burning breath blowing against his skin, bringing waves of tingling sensations.

The bulging outline of the sleeping robe paused for a moment, then began to slowly move down.

An Yi lowered his head, his vision filled with Qin Cang's black hair in front of him.

A strong sensation, almost overwhelming, exploded from the place being touched and quickly spread through his limbs and bones.

His slender fingers unconsciously tightened, grabbing the hard muscles on Qin Cang's arm, his fingertips digging in slightly.

His breathing became rapid, his chest heaving.

The flush at the corner of his eyes became more intense, as if painted with the finest rouge.

As for what happened next, only the dim lamplight and the silent room knew.

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After the spring imperial exams results were announced and the Apricot Garden Feast was held, the liveliest event of all finally arrived—the day of the top scholar's street parade.

On this day in the capital, from the main gate of the imperial palace to the Imperial Academy, both sides of the main streets were already packed with surging crowds.

Golden sunlight bathed the imperial street, and the bluestone pavement swept perfectly clean.

From afar, the ceremonial guard led the way, flags fluttering, followed by the center of all attention—the new top scholar, Fang Huaixing!

He was dressed in a bright red top scholar robe, wearing a black gauze cap with dazzling golden flowers pinned to the side of his cap, riding a snow-white horse bestowed by the palace.

Still a youth, his stature was not fully developed, but sitting upright on the horse, his back straight, his face handsome, his face brimming with youthful sharpness and unbridled pride.

He kept cupping his hands and bowing to the cheering crowd on both sides of the street, his manner calm and impressive, winning wave after wave of applause and admiration.

The noise nearly lifted the roof.

Fang Huaixing smiled, accepting this glory that belonged to him, his eyes sweeping over the excited and envious faces, his heart surging with pride.

When the parade reached the middle of the busiest street in the city, Fang Huaixing's gaze casually swept over an elegantly decorated restaurant by the street.

His gaze paused slightly at an open carved window on the second floor.

There, An Yi was sitting by the window.

He was still dressed in a simple, elegant cyan long gown, out of place with the bright colors downstairs.

Sunlight filtered through the window lattice, casting a light golden edge on him, outlining his already perfect profile, making him appear even more handsome and ethereal.

In his hand, he held a wine glass. Seeing Fang Huaixing look over, An Yi slightly raised the corner of his mouth, lifted his glass, and raised it in a distant toast toward the direction downstairs.

And beside An Yi, Qin Cang was sitting almost pressed against him.

Today was his day off, so he was not in military uniform. He wore a dark, patterned casual robe, but it still could not hide his tall, fierce bearing tempered on the battlefield.

Seeing Fang Huaixing's gaze, he lazily lifted his own glass in greeting.

Fang Huaixing couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

He once again cupped his hands in a solemn salute toward the second floor, a sincere smile on his face.

For An Yi, he always held a respect for an old acquaintance. As for Qin Cang... well, although he was a hopeless "gay man," considering his relationship with An Yi, he had to give him some credit.

Although An Yi was also gay, he was different from Qin Cang.

Withdrawing his gaze, he lightly squeezed his legs against the horse's flanks, and the white horse continued its elegant pace, carrying the young top scholar toward more cheers and glory ahead.

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Inside the second-floor private room, the window was not closed. The noise and heat from downstairs surged in waves, making the peaceful tranquility of the room even more pronounced.

As soon as Fang Huaixing looked away, Qin Cang immediately seemed to go boneless, reaching out his long arm to pull An Yi into his arms from behind.

He rested his chin intimately in the hollow of An Yi's slender shoulder, greedily breathing in the crisp, pleasant scent of him, murmuring in a low voice, "Master..."

Feeling the solid warmth at his back and the powerful arms around his waist, An Yi raised his free left hand, reaching back to touch Qin Cang's cheek, his fingertips gently brushing over the slightly rough skin.

His right hand still held the wine cup he had just raised in a toast, the amber liquid inside gently rippling.

An Yi tilted his head, a seductive glint in his eyes, and naturally brought the cup he had just used to Qin Cang's lips.

Qin Cang parted his lips slightly, gently biting the rim of the cup, and from An Yi's hand, tilted his head back to drink the remaining wine in one gulp.

The wine, spicy with a lingering sweetness, slid down his throat, bringing a wave of warmth.

The scent of liquor mixed with his hot breath, gently brushing against An Yi's lips.

Then, he leaned in and gave a peck.