"Is this what they're fond of in the capital these days?"
"Hard to say. Her appearance doesn't match what was described either—weren't we told that Miss Changsheng had a face and waist that spelled disaster? But she looks soft and delicate, just a modest little beauty at best. And her figure—compared to the girls in our establishment, where is she as slender as a willow? And that tune she played—I've never heard anything like it. None of it matches what we were told."
"Perhaps tastes in the capital have changed. My head is still spinning—what did Miss Changsheng say that piece was called?"
"She said it was called 'Braving the Typhoon.'"
"Is this what they're fond of in the capital these days?"
"Hard to say. The people from Prince Beikang's estate said the prince dotes on her immensely—it's Princess Consort Beikang who can't tolerate her, so she was sent to our establishment. Normally the prince treasures this seductive calamity like a precious jewel."
"Perhaps tastes in the capital have changed, and we here in Jinling just haven't caught up."
Xia Ji: …
It had been so long since she'd played "Braving the Typhoon" that her hands were burning—once she started, she couldn't stop.
A young girl who admired her after hearing her music called her over to sit and rest in a room where several of them were gathered. The room had terrible soundproofing, and she could clearly hear the conversation in the corridor between the madam who had received Xia Ji and another madam.
Xia Ji sat there, utterly mortified, shifting uncomfortably.
A young girl who had been serving her tea came over, pressed lightly on her waist, and raised her innocent face: "Sister Changsheng is a bit plumper than the other sisters here!"
Please stop.
Xia Ji covered her face in embarrassment.
Seductive calamity… a face that spells disaster… a waist that spells disaster…
On the dressing table across from her was a brightly polished bronze mirror.
She pressed her lips together and looked at her own honest, gentle, obedient face, feeling mortified and ashamed.
No wonder that madam had stared at her so intently since the very first time she saw her—she must have been searching her face for traces of the "disaster."
Xia Ji clutched her clothes in embarrassment, crumpling them in her fists.
That wretched Bujing Nu, that madman! This was all his fault!
The banquet at Tianfeng Hall was exceedingly lively.
Tables of food stretched on endlessly, too long to see the end. This was a welcome banquet, yet Prince Beikang, the guest of honor, had not come.
The Prince Beikang estate had, however, sent many people to receive the guests. They all sat together conversing, creating a lively atmosphere. The seat of honor that should have been Prince Beikang's had been taken by someone else—Marquis Zheng Ting, the Assistant Commissioner of the Chief Military Commission.
"Commissioner," the Prefect raised his cup to Zheng Ting and bowed in salute, "I hear that in three months, you will celebrate your fiftieth birthday. I have prepared a modest gift and will come to your residence to offer my congratulations."
Zheng Ting raised his wine cup in acknowledgment.
"Commissioner, for your fiftieth birthday, please don't forget your subordinates. My wife is on excellent terms with the Marchioness—I hope we may come to celebrate as well." Several officials spoke up in succession, all crowding around Zheng Ting.
"Everyone, quiet down. I have taken note of all your sentiments. After the banquet, I will register all your names. Elder Sima,"
Zheng Ting nodded toward the left front, "may I ask why His Highness Prince Beikang did not attend today?"
"I heard there were matters in the capital. His Highness, mindful of the Emperor's health, departed for the capital at noon today, and thus could not be present. I hope all the gentlemen will forgive him." said the Elder Sima.
Zheng Ting smiled thinly. His deeply lined face was full of profound calculation—one glance told you he was no simple man.
"I see. I had wondered whether Prince Beikang no longer wished to have dealings with me—for if not, why would the guest of honor be the only one absent from his own welcome banquet?"
With that, Zheng Ting burst into laughter, and the others joined him.
Zheng Ting's background was formidable. He was related to Noble Consort Shen, who was greatly favored by the current Emperor. And Noble Consort Shen was the cousin of Second Prince Zhong Yanli's birth mother.
Now that Zhong Yanli was under house arrest in the imperial city for conspiracy to rebel, and his birth mother had died long ago, only Noble Consort Shen occasionally, out of pity for her late cousin's son, would speak a few kind words to the Emperor about the father-son bond of years past.
The delegation from Prince Beikang's estate said nothing further. At that moment, the beauties of Tianfeng Hall entered in a line bearing dishes, and after they withdrew, a troupe of dancers in scant clothing glided in, bowing seductively to the assembled guests.
Languid, decadent music drifted through the hall. In these unstable times, when the realm was in chaos, there were those of extraordinary talent who upheld the state—but there were equally those given to indulgence and pleasure, empty-headed hedonists. Even the popular music of the day was steeped in licentious, vulgar sentiment.
Such banquets happened almost daily. Zheng Ting was bored beyond measure. His aged gaze drifted past the dancers' snow-white, supple waists and landed on a youth seated in the corner on the left.
Although Prince Beikang himself had not come, all those in his household who held official positions or were his trusted associates had come—which was why the left side was quite crowded. By now, as people drank, the noise had grown steadily louder.
But that youth simply sat in the corner.
What was strange was that his ink-black hair was unbound, hanging loose over his shoulders. Because his head was lowered, the dark strands fell in disheveled cascades. In these times, that was the mark of a man bearing a criminal sentence.
Only a pale, jade-like sliver of skin was faintly visible. A dancer came by to offer wine, and only then did the youth lift his head.
He revealed an extraordinarily beautiful face, difficult to describe. His brows curved gently as he smiled and shook his head.
Marquis Zheng Ting stared at him, momentarily stunned. It wasn't until the youth turned toward him, holding a half-braided red cord in his hand, phoenix eyes curved, that he noticed—in this hall bright as daylight, the youth's pitch-black pupils seemed to admit no light at all.
Bujing Nu tilted his head, but his gaze drifted slightly downward, fixing on Marquis Zheng Ting's aged neck. His eyes curved even deeper.
Downstairs, the banquet seemed to have already begun.
The girls on the second floor had all gone down. For a moment, the second floor was even quieter than it had been that afternoon when she'd played the war-horse melody. The madam called for her, wanting her to come down and show off her skills. Xia Ji wouldn't go—she made excuses, saying she was tired.
Hearing this, the madam had a young servant bring her water for a bath.
Xia Ji loved bathing.
And the bathhouse here was fragrant, nothing like when she'd been at Bujing Nu's place. The water Shanu poured for her was either too hot or too cold, and there was only one piece of bath bean. That bath bean seemed to have been used to wash off Bujing Nu's blood—every time Xia Ji used it, the bean was still bloody on top.
It was truly terrifying. Every time before bathing, Xia Ji had to specially wash that bath bean first.
She soaked comfortably in the bath, her whole body feeling relaxed and refreshed. The establishment had assigned a young girl to look after her—one of the girls raised from childhood in Tianfeng Hall.
Xia Ji had never seen such an obedient, well-behaved child. This chance encounter stirred a feeling of pity in her. That night, she played with the girl named Xiao Pei for a long time, even taught her to play the guzheng, and shared all the food the madam had prepared for her with Xiao Pei.
Xiao Pei was delighted, calling her "Sister Changsheng" with every breath. The little girl had a neat, proper face, and the way she curved her brows and smiled was utterly endearing.
It was also because of Xiao Pei that Xia Ji learned more about this banquet.
It turned out to be a welcome banquet for Prince Beikang. Xia Ji confirmed it several times before she was certain—this Prince Beikang was the male lead's rival in the original novel, the one who mentally tormented the female lead while his jealous wife secretly beat her black and blue.
The female lead's days by his side could have been written as a Yu Hua novel. And in the end, this Prince Beikang still claimed to love her.
It was like he'd developed feelings from being her master—probably because he'd never met a woman so obedient.
"Is Prince Beikang downstairs right now?"
"Sister Changsheng, Xiao Pei doesn't know," Xiao Pei said, dutifully drying her hair even though Xia Ji had already bathed. Even if Xia Ji didn't need her help, she absolutely wouldn't rest. "For the adults' welcome banquet, the prince must surely be there."
That made sense.
She wasn't going downstairs, then.
Besides, it seemed Bujing Nu had a deep connection with Prince Beikang. Could it be that Bujing Nu served Prince Beikang?
That was the only possibility—otherwise, how would he have gotten gold leaves from Prince Beikang's estate?
Xia Ji thought about the original novel while Xiao Pei swiftly made the bed—a thick quilt of pink silk embroidered with gold thread, looking warm and cozy just from how Xiao Pei arranged it.
"Sister Changsheng must be tired today. Xiao Pei won't disturb you—please rest soon."
"Thank you, Xiao Pei."
What a well-behaved ancient child. Xiao Pei blew out all the candles in the room, leaving only one lantern lit.
"Tonight, Sister Changsheng has been arranged to stay in the guest room. No other sisters will come to sleep here, but there may be some noise from sisters coming upstairs at night. Sister Changsheng, sleep peacefully."
"Thank you, Xiao Pei." Xia Ji was about to get into bed when she thought of something and gave Xiao Pei all the remaining pastries in her room.
Xiao Pei lifted her face, smiling happily, her eyes already a bit drowsy. The ancient child clearly wasn't used to staying up late—even the children of Tianfeng Hall slept early and grew sleepy quickly. Xiao Pei bowed to Xia Ji before leaving.
Now only Xia Ji remained in this elegant room.
She lay down in the soft, plush bedding. Coming out here, she felt the outside world was truly much better than Bujing Nu's place—like a vacation. Though she couldn't stay long.
Mm…
She still needed to hurry and complete her task.
Wait—would she even be able to see Bujing Nu these next two days?
If Bujing Nu didn't show up and she failed her task, her Luck Value would be deducted.
And right now, her Luck Value was already dangerously low.
If it got deducted again, she might step outside, get caught by a gust of wind, and because her luck was so low, be blown down the stairs to her death.
Thinking about her Luck Value, Xia Ji immediately couldn't sleep. She lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, deeply worried.
She was also genuinely tired.
Even with her heart full of worry, she fell asleep—but she slept restlessly, having several dreams. One moment she was in the modern world, the next in the present, and she even dreamed of Bujing Nu. In the dream, they were having breakfast together. She sat down beside him and gently pressed her lips toward his face.
All she had to do was touch his face with her lips! Just one touch!
The obsession in her dream was profound, so intense that Xia Ji could even clearly see Bujing Nu's fair cheek. She strained her head forward, desperately trying to press her mouth against the youth's face—just one touch would be enough!
Just then, footsteps sounded again.
"Mmm…"
She furrowed her brows, her eyelids fluttering several times before she woke.
The room that had been dark now had light filtering in from outside. A series of footsteps came from beyond, someone was coming up the stairs, and the voices of women could be heard. Dim light seeped through the paper-paned sliding door. Xia Ji's head was a bit dizzy, and she felt cold—she couldn't even tell what era she was in anymore.
She had no idea what time it was.
Her gaze drifted to the corner, but even now she still couldn't figure out how to read time from that ancient water clock. Every time, she'd have to catch Bujing Nu off guard and casually ask him.
Cold…
If she'd known, she would have agreed when Xiao Pei asked if she wanted an extra hot water bottle earlier. She'd never seen one before and didn't know if it would leak water—if it spilled on her blankets and scalded her in the middle of the night, that would be terrible.
Who knew it would be so cold here.
The sash at her chest had somehow come loose while she slept, exposing a large expanse of fair skin. Xia Ji's head spun as she instinctively gathered the lapels of her robe together, when suddenly she felt something strange.
She glanced sideways, her gaze steadying. On the floor where warm, golden light streamed in from outside, she caught sight of a tall, slender silhouette—right beside her.
Xia Ji's scalp went numb. She sucked in a sharp breath and whipped her head around, as if in a dream, meeting Bujing Nu's face in shock.
The disorientation of not knowing what era she was in, brought on by her earlier dream, was instantly yanked away the moment her eyes landed on the young man's face.
Wide awake.
Utterly wide awake.
Bujing Nu had that effect.
After all, modern society couldn't produce a madman so utterly devoid of moral principles.
He was still wearing the same sapphire-blue round-collar brocade robe from the daytime. Now, he sat cross-legged with one knee bent at the edge of Xia Ji's bed, ink-black hair cascading loose. Somehow, his seductive eyes were bewitching, like a gorgeous flower laced with poison.
The cloying scent of cosmetics in the room wasn't his, yet it seemed to seep out from his fair, smooth skin.
His phoenix eyes curved slightly, his dark pupils brighter than usual, reflecting the warm light from outside. A faint sheen of moisture glistened on his crimson lips.
Xia Ji stared at him, still shaken, thinking he seemed a little off—when he crawled over.
Yes… crawled over.
The young man's lean waist was cinched by a belt. He pressed close, wrapping his arms around her.
"Ah…!"
Xia Ji froze completely.
Because he lowered himself, his face pressed against her chest.
Xia Ji didn't know how to describe what she felt inside, but after all these days of being around him, she knew Bujing Nu was someone who hadn't "woken up" yet. And in modern society, Xia Ji had never met a man so utterly oblivious either.
Bujing Nu held her now, his face against her chest. Even the small, faint mole on Xia Ji's chest was hidden from view, pressed flat by his weight.
"B-Bujing Nu…? I haven't settled the score with you yet,"
Though Xia Ji didn't push him away, she was still furious inside. She'd been scared half to death this afternoon, and only now that she saw him did she feel at ease.
Without realizing it, she hadn't even noticed—in this unfamiliar world, only when she saw this madman Bujing Nu did she feel safe.
"How could you send me here without even telling me? At least explain a little more!"
Having him pressed against her like this was always a bit strange, and today Bujing Nu's face was warmer than usual—it was her who was cold instead. Xia Ji pushed him away. The young man's hands still held her, but his body pulled back, and he stared at her intently.
Xia Ji: "…Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm looking at what I look like in Hangiang's eyes—"
He stared into her pupils, his own reflection mirrored in her dark brown irises. He was using Xia Ji's eyes as a mirror. His hands reached up to caress her face, and since Xia Ji hadn't been sitting steadily, she let out an "Oof!" as he pushed her down onto the bed.
He leaned over her, pressing down, his breath settling upon her, his hands still cradling her face.
"Hangiang, am I handsome? What do I look like?" He stared at her, speaking softly.
"Handsome. You look like a beautiful young man. There, happy? Now answer me—you sent me here without any explanation, I was scared to death. You're not going to refuse to take me back, are you?"
Bujing Nu laughed.
His laughter was soft, catching at one's ears. Xia Ji caught a sweet fragrance from him, like flower nectar: "If it weren't for Hangiang, how would Bujing Nu ever get to see himself?"
Xia Ji: ?
She didn't understand what he meant.
"Hangiang says I'm handsome, so lately I've been doing as you said—washing my face clean and showing it to people. The strange thing is, people aren't afraid of me anymore. Today they even brought wine and offered it to me. How odd, Hangiang."
What's odd about that.
"If you wash your face clean, of course that's how it should be." Who wouldn't favor a beauty? That's how it's always been, in ancient times and modern, here and abroad.
"My face is a bloody hollow," he laughed, his expression most peculiar. "Those fools actually dared to get close to me. I washed my face, and they couldn't recognize me anymore."
His hand on her face tightened slightly. Xia Ji let out a soft "mm," and Bujing Nu curved his phoenix eyes. "Hangiang is always afraid of me. Even after I washed my face, you're still afraid. Afraid, yet you draw close to me, and let me draw close to you. Hangiang, you're even sillier than Shanu."
"You're the one sillier than Shanu!"
Xia Ji forcefully turned her head, trying to avoid his hand, but Bujing Nu pressed her into an embrace. He wasn't pinching her face anymore—instead, he held her tightly like a doll.
"I avoided the wine today, but there were pastries made with wine. I ate them and got so dizzy. I did something wrong. I deserve a beating." As he spoke, he shook his sleeve, and several pastries tumbled out.
But after all this time, the pastries had gone a bit hard, and having been stuffed in his sleeve, they looked terrible. Xia Ji hadn't expected him to have hidden so many pastries in there. Held in his arms, she stared blankly at her clean bedding, now "defiled" by the pastries.
He threw them directly—directly!—onto her bedding! The bed that Xiao Pei had just made for her not long ago!
"What are you doing!"
"What? Hangiang, don't fuss," Bujing Nu frowned. "I brought them for you. Hangiang loves pastries the most."
Oh, thank you so much! You went down for just a moment and still brought me gifts!
"I'm not hungry!"
Bujing Nu sat up. He wasn't smiling like before—instead, he looked rather displeased. "Then you won't eat them? You said yourself that you love them."
"No, I'm full."
Catching the unhappy look on Bujing Nu's face, Xia Ji felt something strange stir in her heart. How could he look like a poor abandoned cat scolded by its master? After all, they had different upbringings—who knew what kind of life Bujing Nu had lived before. Xia Ji went over and tugged at Bujing Nu's sleeve.
"Bujing Nu, thank you for thinking of me even when you went down. You're so good. Really, so good."
Only then did he turn his head.
"Really?"
"Really."
Bujing Nu curved his brows and eyes, pressing his face against hers. Xia Ji didn't know what had come over her—her heart suddenly felt warm from his gesture. It stayed warm for a while before she remembered there was still a mission to complete.
Right! The mission! That was the most important thing!
Her expression was like someone jolting awake from a dying dream as she lifted her head, staring at Bujing Nu's face—only to meet the boy's pitch-black pupils directly.
The light outside had dimmed. The girls in the building had likely all gone to sleep. In the silent darkness, Bujing Nu's gaze was hollow.
"I did something wrong. I did something wrong."
He muttered suddenly, as if his soul had been drained, startling her.
"What did you do wrong? What's wrong with you?"
"I ate that pastry."
"What about that pastry? Is it poisoned?" Xia Ji was thoroughly frightened. Her first thought was that if Bujing Nu died, what would she do in this era. "We need to find the imperial physician!"
"It had wine."
Xia Ji: ?
"My master doesn't allow me to drink. I deserve punishment. I deserve to be punished."
He murmured to himself: "That pastry had wine in it, but I ate it…"
"How could this—" Before Xia Ji could finish, her hand was seized by Bujing Nu.
"Hangiang, you punish me." He stood up, his gaze sweeping around, and picked up a thick wooden board from the corner. "Punish me."
"What are you doing?" Xia Ji didn't take it at all. She sat on the bed, backing away repeatedly. "It was just a pastry! So what if it had some wine?"
She had never noticed Bujing Nu having such self-punishing, self-flagellating tendencies before. She could only sense that Bujing Nu had a strange obsession.
His way of living was too singular, too peculiar—all signs of that strange obsession.
The boy stood in place, his expression slightly dazed. Xia Ji gathered her courage and forcibly grabbed his wrist. "Drinking a little wine is no big deal. I drink too. And you only ate that pastry because you didn't notice. Bujing Nu—"
Xia Ji tried to comfort him the way she would comfort a good student under immense pressure and terrified of making mistakes back in the modern world: "Your master isn't here right now. When you see your master again, you can go accept your punishment then, can't you?"
Her body had already developed muscle memory unconsciously.
She instinctively wrapped her arms around him, and they lay down together on the bed.
As for those pastries, Xia Ji's hand had already swept them all aside.
Bujing Nu buried himself in her arms: "Mm, Hangiang."
The boy's voice was soft and gentle, almost like a child seeking affection. His voice was naturally mild to begin with, and now buried against her chest, it was filled with clinging tenderness.
Xia Ji pursed her lips slightly, feeling it strange that she could coexist so peacefully and quietly with this madman of an era—especially since, whether intentional or not, his face was buried entirely against her chest.
Xia Ji: …
Bujing Nu simply hadn't developed that kind of awareness.
She was overthinking it.
After all the commotion of the day, Xia Ji was truly exhausted. She even forgot about the mission. With Bujing Nu there, she felt a strange sense of comfort—not afraid to sleep like before. Before long, she was fast asleep.
In the hazy night, she didn't even notice the boy in her arms sitting up.
Freed from the constraint of the arms that had been tightly holding her, the woman turned over and lay flat on her back to sleep, her delicate lips slightly parted. With each breath, her fair chest rose and fell, and in the deep of the night, her rounded, smooth, soft white bosom emanated a faint, warm feminine fragrance.
A strange hunger, utterly foreign and never before experienced, seemed to well up from within his very body. Bujing Nu sat beside Xia Ji, staring at the woman's skin. He knew her warmth, her softness—and it made him want to bite.
Drinking was a grave taboo.
Desire was an even graver taboo.
This desire was utterly alien to Bujing Nu. He had never encountered anything like it. This strange sensation made him want to devour her whole, sink his teeth into her flesh, bind her body tightly in his grip until the woman's delicate brows furrowed and she could scarcely breathe.
Acting on instinct, he gripped the dagger hidden in his sleeve. His mind numb, he unwound the white cloth from his wrist and drew the blade across the scarred, uneven skin.
Crimson blood burst forth. The youth's dark, pitch-black eyes stared at his own wrist as if looking at another person's hand—until he shifted his slender, pale wrist to hover above the woman's softness.
Blood splattered onto her full curves, just as it had the first time hunger had seized him.
The contrast of white and red was striking. She was breathing, and his blood rose and fell with her softness. To the youth, this was more absorbing than any slaughter—so thrilling that his pupils contracted slightly.
—To have a heart is to suffer; to be heartless is to be joyful. Without heart, without desire, one attains supreme bliss.
His master's words were a constant reminder. He should not be doing this.
"Mmn…"
In her sleep, the woman seemed to sense something. She stirred slightly, a faint sound escaping her lips, pulling at Bujing Nu's thoughts. The blood traced downward along the curve, sinking into the valley between.
The youth beside her gently grasped Xia Ji's wrists, pressing them together, and lowered himself.
□*□
□*□
A faint flush crept across Bujing Nu's pale cheeks. He heard her voice, and a strange "hum" resonated in his mind—like a single string vibrating softly.
He raised his hand to cover her lips, not allowing her to let out even the slightest sound.
□*□
His hand was about to pull free the sash at her chest. Bujing Nu had never seen what lay beneath a woman's garments—he had only ever glimpsed the bodies of the dead.
Toward those, he felt nothing at all—only the numbness and detachment that came with facing corpses and slaughter.
As for the living, he never interacted with anyone. Whenever he appeared before others, he was always drenched in blood, and living people fled at the sight of him. The life of a Death Soldier was utterly sealed off. He had never known curiosity, for curiosity meant a desire to reach outward—and if such a thought ever arose, that Death Soldier should chew poison and die.
Because they would no longer be of use.
But Xia Ji had been delivered directly before him, making him deeply curious—a woman he had loved from the very first touch.
"Hangiang…" The youth's soft, low voice was thick as honey.
Her fragrance filled his every breath. He had only just pulled the sash halfway loose when Xia Ji showed clear discomfort.
As if shooing a fly, she raised a hand in her sleep and waved it, then turned over in a hazy daze.
A large expanse of her chest was exposed, though not fully visible—only the soft white curve could be seen. Bujing Nu sat up, raising his arm with a slight frown, looking down at her as he licked the blood flowing from his wrist.
"Hangiang… it hurts… does it feel good…?"
A strange pleasure—he did not understand this bizarre sensation.
He frowned from the pain, his beautiful face tinged with a light flush, his dark eyes veiled in a damp, misty sheen.
Bujing Nu had always been quite sensitive to pain.
Xia Ji was awakened by light streaming in from outside.
She opened her eyes, dazed for a moment, and saw a rather cute girl in pink period clothing walk in, kneeling before her: "Elder Sister Changsheng is awake?"
"Xiao Pei."
Xia Ji snapped back to her senses. Waking up, everything felt unfamiliar—and then she remembered it was because she was at Bujing Nu's place. She hadn't seen the morning sun in a long time.
Bujing Nu didn't seem to like the daylight. The room he stayed in always had the curtains drawn, and it was located in a remote spot—the entire residence was situated where light never reached.
And he wasn't there when she woke up. She felt like something was missing.
"Xiao Pei, what time is it?"
"Just passed the hour of Chen."
Just passed the hour of Chen—so that was… well… around seven in the morning… She had a rough sense of these things by now.
Xiao Pei moved quickly, setting out a brass basin and cloth: "Mother sent me to wash Elder Sister Changsheng's face. Ah—!"
Xiao Pei stared at her, as if startled: "It's blood! Elder Sister Changsheng, what happened to you?"
Her sudden outcry thoroughly jolted Xia Ji awake. Probably because of the deep impression Bujing Nu had left on her, her first reaction was to feel her neck; her second, to touch the bedding.
No period. Neck was fine.
The bedding was clean. No blood.
Huh?
Xia Ji froze, and only then followed Xiao Pei's gaze downward.
There, on her properly tied garments, was crimson staining the fabric—she had no idea how. And why did it feel so tight? How had she tied her sash so tightly last night?
It was constricting enough to make her uncomfortable.
They were both women, so Xia Ji didn't overthink it. She lowered her head, felt herself over, found nothing, pressed down—nothing hurt anywhere.
"Has Elder Sister Changsheng been injured?"
"There's nothing there," Xia Ji said, also feeling uneasy. She didn't know what was going on. Anyone with modern common sense knew that blood was actually the most unclean thing of all. "Do you have rats here?"
Xia Ji couldn't help but speculate—maybe it was rats causing trouble. One had been bitten by a cat, and dragging its tail as it fled for its life, it had brushed past her.
She didn't suspect for a moment the Bujing Nu, who had been completely clean from head to toe last night.
When Xiao Pei nodded and said there were quite a few rats here, Xia Ji immediately felt awful. She was most afraid of things like rats and cockroaches. After all, that was the only possible explanation. She hurriedly said she wanted to bathe, and Xiao Pei went to heat water for her.
It worked out well—many of the girls in the building washed themselves during the day anyway, so using the hot water now wasn't wasting anything from Tianfeng Hall.
Xia Ji didn't even want to keep the clothes she was wearing. Although the clothes at Tianfeng Hall were a bit too brightly colored, she still forced herself to change out of the dirty garments and put on a clean set.
Only then did she go up to the third floor to bathe.
The bathhouse at Tianfeng Hall was very large, and on the third floor, the entire room was filled with the fragrance of women—powder, hair, warm and soft cosmetics, and floral scents. When Xia Ji entered the bathhouse, no one was inside, and her small bucket of hot water was already prepared.
Tianfeng Hall was generous enough, though Xia Ji had heard that in ancient times, a whole family would share one bucket of bathwater. But then again, it was Bujing Nu who had always been the wasteful one—whenever she wanted water, however much she wanted, it didn't matter.
At Tianfeng Hall, it was the young attendants and the nameless dancers and musicians who had to take turns using a single bucket of bathwater.
Not like Bujing Nu. He lived like a death-row prisoner with no tomorrow. He had no idea how much grain cost or how tiring labor was, wasting things every single day. Xia Ji had asked Shanu what happened to the leftover food he threw out every day, thinking it might have been given to Shanu to eat.
But it turned out Shanu also ate meals delivered from the restaurant every day, cooked separately just for him.
As for the leftovers, Shanu had caught a glimpse—since the residence was in a remote location, the discarded food was eaten by dogs.
In this chaotic world, some people could eat until they burst, and some could starve to death. Some were human, and some weren't even as good as a dog on the road.
Xia Ji sat in the bath bucket, taking clean soap beans and washing herself carefully. The inexplicable blood on her body disgusted her, and it also reminded her of her period.
Ever since she had transmigrated here, for some unknown reason—probably because her original body wasn't in great health—she hadn't had her period for nearly two whole months.
Xia Ji had been keeping track of this, because ancient times had no sanitary pads, and she figured her period would be genuinely miserable for a few days.
She thought about this while bathing, and didn't even look up when someone came in.
Xia Ji was from the north originally, and when she went to bathhouses, she instinctively didn't look up at other people.
She finished washing and sat to the side, rinsing herself with hot water from the bucket, when she suddenly felt something strange. She glanced at her wrist and let out an "Hm?"
Yesterday she'd only had one bracelet—the one Bujing Nu had woven for her.
Today, she was wearing three, all red.
He'd woven more? And come over to put them on her? How strange.
The bracelets were woven beautifully. Xia Ji was about to get up when she felt the person who had just come in sit down beside her.
Um…
A bit awkward. Xia Ji was about to stand and leave when she heard the woman beside her say, "Miss Xia Qiu?"
Xia Ji: ?
She turned her head in shock, as if seeing a ghost. Through the hazy water vapor sat a rather unremarkable woman, covering herself with a long cloth.
She was slightly plump, with plain features—not ugly, not pretty, just very forgettable.
"Who are you?" Xia Ji quickly covered her mouth. No wait, why was she asking who the woman was?
Xia Ji, afraid something might happen, quickly grabbed a cloth to cover herself too, then scrambled backward repeatedly.
No.
Why was she backing away!
Xia Ji absolutely hated this instinctive slip of hers. Modern people instinctively lacked so much vigilance! Why did her body always act differently from what her mind wanted! She hated herself!
Jin Cai stared at the woman who kept backing away. She hadn't expected that while lying in wait at Tianfeng Hall, where Prince Beikang often came, she would one day run into Miss Xia Qiu. No mistake—she looked exactly like the portrait.
And seeing how flustered she was…
Jin Cai: …
Jin Cai watched as Xia Qiu nearly retreated all the way to the wall, covering herself, her face looking like she'd seen a ghost.
Wasn't Miss Xia Qiu supposed to be an introverted, gloomy young lady of a noble family, always melancholy and delicate?
"It's Miss Xia Qiu… right?"
"I'm not!"
Xia Ji knew she needed to stay calm, but she had no way to control her facial expression. She stared wide-eyed with her apricot-shaped eyes, looking like she'd smash the water basin beside her at Jin Cai if she dared take another step forward.
"You've mistaken me for someone else!"
Jin Cai: …
"I haven't mistaken you, have I? Miss Xia Qiu, I saw you the moment you entered the building yesterday. It's just that the song you played yesterday was too…"
Too inconsistent with Jin Cai's idea of a delicate, gentle young lady.
"Too stirring. That's why I didn't dare come up to greet you."
"What? I don't know anything about that!"
Xia Ji clenched her teeth. If this strange woman dared to take another step forward, she would call for Bujing Nu!
"Miss, don't be afraid. I'm not here to harm you—I'm one of the Second Prince's people."
Xia Ji blinked.
The Second Prince.
The one from the original novel—the man who used the female lead throughout, who only ascended the throne at the end thanks to her immense sacrifices, who left her—broken in both mind and body—without even the rank of a consort, forced to live outside the palace with her daughter, suffering miserably while he remained ill?
Jin Cai watched as the delicate, elegant face of the woman before her shifted to another expression.
One of unmistakable disgust.
Yet the words she spoke were perfectly courteous.
"So you're one of His Highness's people."
"Yes, Miss Xia Qiu." Just as expected—Miss Xia Qiu still cherished old ties. As everyone knew, Miss Xia Qiu was deeply infatuated with the Second Prince.
"To encounter you here—have you already entered Prince Beikang's residence?"
Xia Ji: ?
She knew she couldn't hide anything on her face—any inner thought tended to show plainly. She simply closed her eyes, scrunched up her face, pressed her lips tightly together, and nodded at Jin Cai.
Jin Cai didn't know why she wore such an expression. She was about to step forward when she saw Xia Ji, naked as she was, shuffle backward as if Jin Cai might do something to her. Jin Cai could only place the letter on a clean wooden stool.
"Miss, His Highness is currently facing great hardship and urgently needs your help. He thinks of you every day, and truly adores you."
Bullshit.
If I hadn't read the original novel, I might actually have believed that.
Xia Ji kept the same expression—eyes closed, face scrunched, lips pressed tight—and nodded. Seeing her nod so emphatically, Jin Cai felt completely at ease. She bowed and quickly took her leave.
Leaving Xia Ji alone, sitting there, taking a long moment to recover before she wrapped a cloth around herself and stepped forward.
She stood there, staring at the letter on the stool. She didn't want to take it, but she couldn't just leave it either. After hesitating for a long while, she snatched it up quickly.
Hmm…
Let me read it!
She unfolded the paper in a hurry and looked down.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Seriously, why does everyone in this dynasty love writing in blood?
Also, she couldn't fully read this dynasty's characters anyway—she could only make out a few, and even those were difficult.
Xia Ji glanced around, then tossed the letter straight into her bathwater. She rubbed it a few times with her hands, and the thin paper dissolved completely, leaving only bits of shredded pulp drifting at the bottom of the tub.
Having never read the original novel carefully, how could she know that this letter had been written with the Second Prince's own fingertip blood? In the original story, the female lead took one look at this letter and lost her very soul, immediately willing to walk through fire and water for the male lead.
She pulled the wooden plug at the bottom of the tub, and the letter that had driven the original body to a lifetime of hardship and misery turned to pulp, flowing out with the bathwater in a gurgling rush. She stood there, calmly drying herself off.
Ah, nothing happened. I know nothing.
The open-air banquet had been going on for two days. That night, they were to go boating on the lake. The girls of the establishment had all gone down, and the madam came to fetch Xia Ji to go down as well.
Xia Ji didn't want to go at all—she was terrified of being recognized again. How frightening would that be?
"If you haven't fully rested, miss, you may rest a while longer. But what fun is there in staying inside the building? Miss Changsheng can come along and get familiar with how we at Tianfeng Hall receive our guests."
She understood—this was about bringing the new employee to familiarize herself with the work environment.
There was no way around it. Xia Ji could understand; she couldn't just refuse to give that much face. She nodded in agreement.
As night fell, all the girls of any standing in the establishment changed into light, flowing garments for the pleasure boat. Though Xia Ji had made it clear she wouldn't dance, sing, or entertain guests, several young attendants still surrounded her, dressing her hair and applying her makeup.
Since arriving here, Xia Ji had never worn makeup. Though Bujing Nu had bought her everything she might need, she'd never touched the cosmetics on the table—only glanced at them out of curiosity.
She'd assumed the styling wouldn't match her tastes, but after they finished, the one staring blankly at the bronze mirror was herself.
Tianfeng Hall knew well that each of its girls had her own unique beauty, and every one of them was styled to suit her own temperament.
Xia Ji was soft and delicate in appearance, so they'd chosen for her a pale pink dress with a light green sash, the skirt made of layers of sheer cloud-like gauze.
Her hair was arranged in a lovely style, with a golden hairpin set at an angle, and red bead jewelry adorning her. The makeup focused on bringing out her complexion—rosy cheeks, crimson lips, and a luminous, watery sheen.
Xia Ji looked at herself and almost didn't recognize the person in the mirror.