Having grown up in the humid south, the Princess of Pingjing, even at sixteen, had rarely seen snow, let alone enough to blanket the ground. Wonder filled Yao Ji. She tried to sit up, but a wave of weakness washed over her, and she collapsed back onto the furs.

Just then, Zong Jun entered, pulling back the tent flap. He rushed to her side, supporting her gently. “You were exhausted last night. Stay in bed and rest some more.”

You brute, Yao Ji thought, glancing at him with a mixture of reproach and shyness. If I’m so tired, it’s your fault. He hadn’t been satisfied with just once. He’d carried her, making love as they walked, his arovsal deep within her. She'd been filled with him, stretched to the limit, pleasure washing over her again and again until she’d fainted in his arms.

Zong Jun, in his own way, had been tender. Seeing his wife unconscious, he’d held her against the wall, driving into her one last time before finally releasing her.

Sated, he’d risen early, refreshed and ready for the day’s business in the golden tent. Before leaving, he’d instructed the servants not to disturb the Great Khatun. Later, they’d quietly entered, intending to tidy the tent, but stopped short, faces flushing at the sight of the damp patches on the wool carpet and the lingering scent of passion.

Approaching the bed cautiously, they saw their mistress still asleep. Several braziers and the heated floor kept the tent warm as spring. Perhaps too warm, as Yao Ji’s blanket had slipped, revealing one bare shoulder and the creamy skin of her chest, covered in vivid marks, red and purple, a testament to their lovemaking. Even the exposed part of her leg bore similar traces of his ardent attention.

Compared to the state of the room, the dried stains on the sheets, the discarded remnants of her torn gown; the overall disarray, these marks seemed almost insignificant.

The servants, stifling their embarrassment, cleaned the tent. By the time Yao Ji woke, the sun was high in the sky. She felt languid and weak, leaning against Zong Jun. She playfully swatted his hand away as he reached for her br3ast. “Stop it! Don’t touch!”

Zong Jun obediently withdrew his hand, but cupped her face and kissed her.  "You're so quick to turn cold after having your fun, you heartless little thing."

Yao Ji blushed crimson. “Don’t say such things! If you keep this up, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Zong Jun raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips.

“I’ll…” she stammered, then, seeing his amusement grow, she kicked him lightly in the waist. “I’ll never let you… touch me again!”

The words were out before she could stop them. Zong Jun burst out laughing, pulling her close. “You little minx, you know how to hit me where it hurts! Alright, alright,” he relented, his gaze softening. “I won’t tease you anymore. I’m too afraid you’ll…” He nuzzled her ear. “…deny me your sweet little pvssy.”

Flustered and defenseless against his teasing, Yao Ji was a mixture of embarrassment and anger, yet she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. A secret sweetness bloomed in her heart as she nestled against him, pouting silently.

Zong Jun held her close, showering her with kisses before finally releasing her. “I won’t tease you anymore. I was wrong earlier, and I want to apologize.” He clapped his hands, signaling the servants to bring in a basket.

Yao Ji, surprised by his apology, was immediately captivated by the basket’s contents. Nestled on a bed of soft wool lay a tiny, fluffy wolf cub. Its eyes were still closed, and its small pink nose twitched.

“This is…”

“Remember the wolves that attacked you?” Zong Jun lifted the cub from the basket. “The alpha is dead. This is its pup.” He offered the tiny creature to Yao Ji. “It’s for you. Do you like it?”