"Miss Changsheng is truly lovely—no wonder she's someone His Highness Prince Beikang holds in high regard!"
After Xia Ji finished her makeup, the madam came over to chat with her. Xia Ji lowered her eyes to the bronze mirror and lightly licked her lips.
So ancient lip balm really was sweet—no wonder Bujing Nu kept licking it back then.
"It's not that Prince Beikang holds me in high regard—it's the styling you all arranged for me."
Too good at playing up strengths and hiding weaknesses. What does that have to do with that foolish lecher of a second male lead?
"Styling? What styling?" The madam clearly didn't understand.
"Nothing. Mother—Mother, I'll follow you out."
Calling the madam "Mother" still felt a bit awkward.
The madam smiled and led Xia Ji and seven or eight other girls from the establishment downstairs, where they boarded palanquins to head toward Dream Court Lake.
The wind was strong and cold at night. In the pitch darkness, she hunched her body and gazed at this world.
Unfamiliar clothing and adornments, shouts she'd never heard before, no towering skyscrapers or electronic devices she knew—this was an extremely bustling market district, its ancient ten-thousand household lanterns still burning bright even at night.
The palanquin carried her, swaying to and fro. Xia Ji gathered the clothes at her chest and looked around, when suddenly, an immense sense of loneliness enveloped her.
She wasn't a person of this era. In her era, ordinary people didn't have it easy either, but there were always many kind-hearted people trying their best to help others who were even more pitiful, or cats and dogs.
There were no slave traders selling people into prostitution. No wretched elderly performers putting on acrobatic shows in the market at night to drum up business. No old beggars with broken legs who looked like they were about to starve to death, yet were ignored by everyone.
In the era she lived in, there wouldn't be people like this. Even if exhausted ordinary people in society had grown so cold they could barely look after themselves, the humanistic compassion cultivated through years of education was still deeply etched into everyone's hearts.
Xia Ji couldn't bear it. She didn't dare look too closely at the aberrations beneath this bustling market. Passing several beggars, all on the verge of dying from illness or starvation, Xia Ji hastily took out the pouch of small gold beads engraved with flowers that Bujing Nu had casually given her before, and handed a few to each of them.
The beggars knelt and kowtowed repeatedly, thanking her. Their hoarse voices of gratitude carried far into the distance. Even as Xia Ji's palanquin moved away, the sound still echoed in her heart.
She wasn't a person of this era.
Before, she'd been cooped up in Bujing Nu's residence the whole time, stuck with that madman Bujing Nu, so she could hardly think of anything.
That was why these two times going out had made Xia Ji feel so uncomfortable—a bloody, visceral sense of alienation that spanned across eras.
The girls boarded the painted pleasure boat. Xia Ji lagged behind, then also stepped aboard. The feeling here was completely different from before—the boat was extremely elegant and exquisite, yet could hold quite a number of people. Several gentlemen inside were chatting about something unknown, and the girls fluttered over like chirping orioles, plucking pipas and singing songs.
Xia Ji sat in the forward cabin, feeling somewhat melancholy. Her worried expression only added to her soft beauty. The Heavenly Wind Hall favored exactly this type of delicate beauty. The madam came out of the cabin, glanced up, and with her discerning eye, how could she bear to let Xia Ji just sit off to the side?
"Changsheng, what are you doing sitting outside? Go on in!"
With that, she grabbed Xia Ji and pulled her up. Xia Ji was slightly stunned and reluctant, but was still pushed and shoved into the inner chamber.
Suddenly, a stunning beauty in peach-pink entered. The madam's face flushed red as she sang out in a voice like a melody: "Gentlemen! This is our Heavenly Wind Hall's future new top courtesan, Miss Changsheng! Her qin playing is unparalleled!"
Xia Ji felt like she was at a company annual meeting and had been drawn by lot to perform a talent show. She was mortified inside.
Stiffly, she imitated Xiao Pei and bent at the waist in a bow. Her fair, delicate skin revealed large swaths of soft-looking shoulders. With her eyes lowered, she could still feel many gazes clinging to her, as if casually, yet not.
Until one pair of eyes was too direct, carrying a bizarre, bone-chilling intensity.
Only then did Xia Ji raise her head.
She met the gaze of the brocade-clad youth sitting across from her.
The youth wore dark crimson brocade robes, with fair skin and red lips. His ink-black hair was unbound, simply hanging loose—eerily beautiful enough to stir the soul. His large phoenix eyes stared straight at her, unblinking.
His hands were still braiding a cord.
Xia Ji: …
Wait, why are you here?
The moment she saw Bujing Nu, the loneliness from before dissipated like smoke. Her mind was filled with only three thoughts: Wait, why are you here? Wait, why are you still braiding cords? How many are you planning to put on my wrist?
"Too ugly. Send her away." The youth's voice had never been colder. He stared at the madam with a sinister air.
"Ugly—ugly?"
Since just now, the madam had never heard this Young Master Chen speak. And when he finally did, it was to say this. Where had she ever seen anything like this?
The madam forced a smile: "Young master is so handsome that he doesn't recognize a woman's beauty. Miss Changsheng is a true beauty."
She was going to be the top courtesan in the future—if she were publicly dismissed from the stage, how could that work? To send someone away so easily was to smash one's own signboard.
"Ugly. Send her away."
"But—"
"Just send her away,"
At this moment, an honored elder seated not far from Bujing Nu spoke up. One look at this elder and it was clear he was someone of considerable standing. His gaze swept over Xia Ji's face and figure before he said, "Young Master Chen is displeased. Have them all withdraw."
Young Master Chen?
Xia Ji looked at Bujing Nu.
Bujing Nu's expression was dark and gloomy. Dressed in red robes, seated beneath the lamplight, his countenance was bleak, devoid of any smile—cold as a vengeful spirit.
"Old Marquis has been coming to our Tianfeng Hall for so long, and nothing like this has ever happened…" If the headliner girl was called ugly, how would she continue from here?
"I'll withdraw. I'll withdraw."
Seeing Bujing Nu turn his gaze toward the madam, Xia Ji grew frantic. She had no idea why Bujing Nu was so angry, but she feared that if she lingered even a moment longer, the madam's blood would splatter on the spot.
She hurried out, remaining in the forward cabin, listening to the music and dancing continue within.
She touched her hair.
Was she really that ugly? She thought she looked rather nice.
Xia Ji didn't pay much attention to dressing up. Though she'd never been praised much for her beauty, she'd also never been directly called ugly before.
Was she that ugly with makeup on? Xia Ji leaned out slightly, gazing at the shimmering river surface along the bank. She looked down at herself, but the rippling water made it impossible to see her reflection clearly, and she felt somewhat disheartened.
If she was so ugly that looking at her annoyed him, could she still kiss him? Would he still let her?
If she couldn't kiss him, what would happen to her fortune?
Worrying herself to death.
There weren't many people in the cabin. In fact, only five officials from Tianfeng Hall had come aboard this painted pleasure boat; the rest were on other vessels.
Marquis Zheng Ting had brought along several close acquaintances—a group of old cronies who were always the most adept at flattering him. At present, they were teasing a minor secretary in charge of grain supplies.
"Secretary Li was born with a measure of good fortune—an old wife at home, two or three concubines besides. The other day he took a fancy to some little seductress who sings opera, coaxed her over, and then some days later, she ran off with a sturdy kitchen hand from the household, taking Secretary Li's gold and silver along with a small chest of his old wife's jewelry."
The officials surrounded Secretary Li, laughing without cease.
"I hear what the old wife had stolen was part of her dowry. Secretary Li dotes on his concubines and never sets foot in his wife's chambers—how does his face hold up now? Has that little seductress been found?"
This matter was brought up again and again. There were two major events in Jinling City at present—one that could be spoken of loudly, and one that required sealed lips and cautious words. The first was Secretary Li's embarrassment, which was amusing to discuss and good for one's health. The second was the Xia family massacre, which would bring misfortune upon anyone who spoke of it.
Having finally gotten a glimpse of the current "man of the hour"—one who could lose even his wife's dowry—the officials pretended not to gossip, but in truth, they were all terribly nosy and vicious-tongued. Secretary Li sat rooted to the spot, his old face flushed red, his long beard trembling slightly.
Seeing Marquis Zheng Ting seated across from him, Secretary Li smiled through his embarrassment: "Haven't found her. My wife's dowry—I've already made it up."
"See to it that your wife's dowry never suffers such harm again."
The crowd listened to the music and the jokes, watching Secretary Li stew in his fury while daring not to speak—it was all highly entertaining. At this moment, the young man across from them, whom everyone was seeing for the first time, opened his mouth to ask.
"Secretary Li treats his wife poorly—why didn't she run off as well?"
At these words, the crowd burst into even louder laughter.
Bujing Nu's face held no smile. He looked around, then raised a hand to cover his own mouth, not understanding what he'd said wrong this time.
In his daily affairs, he was always told not to speak, to speak less. But he felt his speech was perfectly fine wherever he went—yet every time he had business to conduct, he was ordered thus.
"Gentlemen, what was improper about my question? I was merely curious."
He asked honestly, but no one answered him.
Secretary Li was left nearly fainting from rage. Favoring a concubine over one's wife was a small matter—but favoring a concubine to the point of losing one's wife's dowry, with the concubine running off besides, was a great matter. And now he was being asked why his wife hadn't run off too.
Run off with whom? With that kitchen hand as well?
Secretary Li nearly died of fury.
The Prince Beikang's household had sent many people this time, all from the capital—unfamiliar new faces. This youth in particular was young, unknown, and possessed of such a countenance—who knew what he did?
And he'd managed to curry favor with Marquis Zheng Ting, getting the marquis to bring him along onto this painted boat.
Moreover, just now, he'd opened his mouth to call that beautiful woman ugly and have her dismissed—clearly a man of extreme jealousy, absolutely a base-born wretch. Everyone on this boat knew exactly what he was the moment they saw him.
Secretary Li glared at him viciously, looking down on him: "I don't see what business my household affairs are of Young Master Chen's. We're neither kin nor acquaintance. You're not even from Jinling City—do I know you? Pah!"
"Secretary Li."
"Y-yes!"
Hearing Marquis Zheng Ting's voice, Secretary Li immediately ceased his insolence, his old face paling again and again.
The Young Master Chen sat across from him, staring at him blankly. Those phoenix eyes were quite beautiful, but his pupils were exceedingly sinister—pitch black—and when they fixed on a person, they sent chills running through one's heart.
Young Master Chen tilted his head slightly, staring at him for a good long while before speaking in a gentle, tender voice: "Forgive me, my lord. Have I displeased you?"
Pretending!
Secretary Li shot him a vicious glare.
"Enough, let's not dwell on this," the boat captain was about to make contact with the other vessel. Marquis Zheng Ting glanced over and halted both boats. "Young Master Chen, you may go over first."
"Thank you, my lord."
The Young Master Chen was about to leave, but as he rose, he turned his head and said: "My lord, when I go, I'll be taking the women on this boat with me as well."
What does he intend to do with them?
Secretary Li couldn't help but glare at him.
Marquis Zheng Ting merely smiled: "If you're not satisfied, have them all leave, then."
"Thank you, Marquis. The Marquis is too kind."
Secretary Li immediately wore a look of disdain. So that was it after all—jealousy, not wanting the brothel women to remain.
Xia Ji was waiting in the forward cabin, her arms chilled by the cold wind. The women came up to comfort her, and the madam also climbed aboard.
"This Young Master Chen is beautiful and currently favored by Marquis Zheng Ting. He was likely someone who served by Prince Beikang's side before—quite jealous by nature. Changsheng, you're beautiful, so don't stoop to his level. These male consorts all have terrible tempers."
Xia Ji: ?
They were talking about Bujing Nu, weren't they.
Xia Ji wasn't a fool—she understood what they meant the moment she heard it. She felt as if she'd been struck by lightning, her expression stunned and blank.
"What—"
"Madam, they're making all of us disembark!"
"What?" The madam had been comforting her, but now she turned around hurriedly and asked, "Why? The boat hasn't even reached Moon Bridge Pool yet!"
"Don't even mention it! That Young Master Chen can't stand us! He wants us all gone! Being a male consort sure makes you domineering!"
Xia Ji: …
No… wait, what?
Before Xia Ji could ask a single question, she was shoved to her feet by the cursing madam, and the girls filed out one by one, grumbling complaints as they went.
To leave, they first had to board another vessel and depart from that one. The girls walked ahead, muttering quiet curses under their breath, until they saw what was ahead—as if they'd seen a ghost, they shoved each other, pushed each other, exchanged panicked glances, and dared not speak another word.
Xia Ji was freezing cold. She kept her head down and walked at the very back, stepping onto the deck with utmost care, not daring to misstep even half an inch.
The river water was deep and dark, its bottom invisible. She didn't dare look at it, only felt how dangerous it was, inching her way forward bit by bit. The girls and the madam had long since crossed over.
Her heart raced with anxiety as she stood there at a loss. Then, from the darkness ahead, a pair of pale, jade-white hands reached out.
Such beautiful hands—Xia Ji had only ever seen them on one person.
She looked up. The youth she'd seen just moments ago stood on the opposite side, both hands extended to receive her.
The two locked eyes for a moment before Xia Ji slowly offered her hand. Bujing Nu seized her wrist in an instant and yanked her forward. Xia Ji let out a short cry as he grabbed both her arms, hoisted her up, and carried her straight across.
When her feet touched the ground, her legs went weak. She hurriedly crouched down in a deserted corner of the deck, her heart pounding wildly. Bujing Nu stood before her, his dark red robes embroidered with white plum blossoms, his waist sash cinching a lean, narrow waist. He stood there.
Then he lowered his hand and patted her head.
Xia Ji couldn't put words to the feelings in her heart. She tugged at Bujing Nu's sleeve. The wind was strong that night, and the women of the pleasure boat had all gone into the cabins to entertain guests. Bujing Nu glanced around, then actually crouched down to face her.
The red robes made his beauty all the more striking, the silver thread trimming his collar lending him an air of nobility. His face was cold and pale, his dark eyes fixed unblinkingly on her.
Xia Ji curled up in the corner, still in her earlier attire—a pinkish-green dress, layers of mist-like skirts piled around her, her cloud-like hair slightly loose, adorned with gold hairpins and pearl clasps, light makeup on her face. Her apricot eyes were like those of a fawn in the forest, looking up at him now with a pitiful, endearing charm.
Especially her lips.
Moist and red, as if one could still catch the faint fragrance of flower nectar.
Being this close, Bujing Nu stared at her all the more.
So beautiful.
He didn't know what "beautiful" meant, but he simply felt that his woman was beautiful—the most beautiful of all. He'd felt that way from the very first time he saw her.
Xia Ji pressed her lips together, gazing at him. She shuffled closer, clutching her skirts, and leaned against Bujing Nu's side.
The wind howled fiercely. Bujing Nu snapped back to reality—and the moment he did, he grew angry.
"Cold?"
Xia Ji blinked her moist, glistening apricot eyes and nodded.
"That damned old woman. I'll kill her."
Bujing Nu actually wanted to go kill someone.
Killing was always just work. No one enjoys work—that's been true since ancient times. Even a lunatic, a sociopath, an emotionless madman grows numb to the job. This was likely the first time Bujing Nu had ever wanted to kill someone out of genuine desire, and the emotion felt utterly foreign to him.
His instinct was to protect the pitiful Xia Ji first. He was about to drag her over and kick those people out so she could warm herself, when Xia Ji tilted her head up, inching her body closer and closer to him.
Then, those soft lips—so moist and tender in Bujing Nu's eyes—pressed against his cheek.