A beautiful person, tightly bound, was lying on his dragon bed. The beauty’s phoenix eyes were deep and dark, with a hidden murderous intent.

Brian Clark instinctively glanced at the beauty’s chest, and his face instantly turned pale—it was a man.

Author’s note:

Brian Clark: It’s true, I haven’t finished growing hair yet :) but I’m still better than you

There’s one more update!

Some readers said they didn’t understand the last chapter. I’ll try to write more clearly next time!

Chapter 7

Adam Brooks’s face was grim, anger smoldering in his phoenix eyes, but the Brian Clark who lifted the bed curtains looked even worse than he did. In fact, after just one glance, Brian Clark immediately flung his sleeve and left.

It was the first time Adam Brooks had been tied up on a bed at someone’s mercy, and also the first time he’d seen such obvious disdain in someone’s eyes. He saw it clearly: this emperor, whom he’d always thought of as muddle-headed and incompetent, looked at him with unmistakable shock and disgust.

It was as if Adam Brooks was something filthy, and just one look would sully his eyes.

The emperor had no intention of laying a hand on him, but the anger in Adam Brooks’s heart only grew. He stared hard at the gauzy bed curtains, looking at the hazy golden figure outside.

Brian Clark sat outside on a soft chair, face dark, waiting for Samuel Grant’s explanation.

After learning that the person lying on his bed was the novel’s male lead, Adam Brooks, Brian Clark slammed his hand down on the armrest, the dull thud making everyone’s heart tremble. He gripped the armrest tightly, his fingertips turning white.

Samuel Grant had never seen the emperor so angry. His heart trembled—he knew he was in trouble.

“Samuel Grant,” the emperor’s voice was already distorted by the time it reached the inner hall, “Just what kind of licentious image do you have of me in your mind, cough…!”

With the emperor’s anger, everyone in the bedchamber dropped to their knees.

Adam Brooks, still tied up on the bed, heard this and saw the crowd kneeling. His eyes were cold, tinged with mockery. After a moment, a palace servant came in and lit the lamps, and the dim bedchamber was suddenly as bright as day.

Adam Brooks blinked uncomfortably. Outside the bed curtains, that golden figure was bent over the soft chair, coughing, the sound muffled, urgent and rapid.

The emperor wore only his inner garments, his figure tall and slender. The anger in Adam Brooks’s heart gradually faded, replaced by an unfathomable icy calm.

When he finally managed to stop coughing, Brian Clark straightened up with effort and slowly walked to the bedside.

Adam Brooks stared at him through the curtains. If the emperor truly hadn’t known about him being tied up here, then his control over the inner court was truly weak. How had such an emperor managed to bring down the powerful minister Lu Feng?

Adam Brooks had been studying abroad for seven years. Though far from the court, he’d heard some news from his father. But his father held a low rank and had no ambition for officialdom, so Adam Brooks didn’t know much about court affairs.

A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, but a hand suddenly reaching into the bed curtains cut them all off.

That hand was beautiful—slender and pale. In a blink, the emperor lifted the curtains with a swish.

Brian Clark was not a selfish person, nor had power gone to his head after becoming emperor. He put himself in the other’s shoes for a moment—if he’d been forcibly tied to another man’s bed, he’d be filled with murderous intent too.

No matter what, no matter who, he’d want to kill them.

So he quickly forgave Adam Brooks for the murderous intent he’d shown him. In fact, to comfort this male lead who’d been dragged into this by Samuel Grant, his voice softened considerably.

“No one will ever know about this…” Halfway through, an itch rose in his throat. Brian Clark pressed a fist to his lips, turning his head to cough.

His long black hair was disheveled, trembling slightly with the motion. Outside, the palace servants were all kneeling, bodies shaking—no one dared step forward to help the emperor at this moment.

The coughing wouldn’t stop, growing so violent it was heart-wrenching. Brian Clark bent over, hand trembling as he pressed weakly against the edge of the dragon bed.

The bright yellow silk embroidered with dragons was wrinkled under his pale hand. For a moment, there was an illusion of lingering, poignant intimacy.

Adam Brooks slowly furrowed his brows, only now remembering that this emperor had just come of age last year—and not only that, but was extremely frail.

……

Truly useless.

“Your Majesty,” a voice as cold as water falling into a pond sounded, “are you all right?”

Brian Clark suddenly clenched the sheet in his hand.

Blue veins bulged on the back of his pale hand, like the delicate lines carved on a jade pendant. Leaning against the bed, Brian Clark’s coughing finally began to subside.

The coughing stopped, but his heavy breathing remained. Brian Clark closed his eyes, gulping in fresh air. After a while, he shakily pressed against the bed and sat up.

He was already used to this kind of body.

He struggled to his feet—clearly in a sorry state, yet he calmly continued the conversation with Adam Brooks from before: “Don’t worry, no one else will know. I’ll have someone secretly send you home, and those servants who dared to tie you up will be punished.”

Adam Brooks watched him quietly.