“I never would have expected you to be so good at waiting on people.”
The orange glow at the edge of the sky sank into the mountain ridge, and red lanterns lit up one after another in Rouge Alley, sending forth an intoxicating fragrance from the taverns and brothels.
“Ice-sugar-gourds, hey!” An old man in ragged clothes walked through the alleys carrying a straw pole, calling out his wares like singing, the tail ends of his words spinning upward.
“Hey, candy-gourd vendor.” A heavily made-up madam, dressed in bright reds and greens, was leaning against the railing on the second floor. Before she could finish speaking, her peripheral vision caught sight of three young gentlemen walking toward her Red Jade Tower. “Oh, my living gods of wealth!”
Her face beamed with a wide smile as she whipped her handkerchief and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Girls, hurry down and welcome them! Your big patrons are here!”
Seven or eight girls, like colorful butterflies, streamed out from their small rooms one after another. Every single one of them was beaming with joy, patting the silk flowers on their heads, tugging at their light, thin dresses, and pushing and shoving each other down the narrow stairs.
Rouge Alley was packed with brothels, reeking of wine and sensuality. Known as the “golden sinkhole of the mortal world,” it was one of the most famous pleasure quarters in the capital. The madam led her girls to stand in a neat row right at the entrance of the Red Jade Tower.
Aisin-Gioro Jingzhao had won some money today and was in high spirits, generously treating his two close friends to a night of revelry.
The two companions beside him wore satin horse-vests and pointed-toe boots, and a single glance made it clear they were wealthy young masters. Yet Jingzhao was distinct from them all: with a neat crop of short hair, he wore a plain white brocade robe, a Xiangfei bamboo fan hooked on his fingertips. As he gently waved it, he looked like a minor immortal who had fallen into the mortal realm, standing worlds apart from the wealthy vulgarity surrounding him.
“His lordship the Prince has graced the Red Jade Tower, and this place instantly shines with brilliance!” The madam smiled flatteringly at Jingzhao. “Right this way, please; the wine and food have already been prepared.”
“Why didn’t Lingyao come out to welcome us?” Jingzhao asked.
“Oh, what a pity, Your Lordship! That girl went back to the countryside to see her father, and she left early this morning.”
Jingzhao said nothing more.
The three young masters, surrounded by a flock of chattering maidens, swaggered into the Red Jade Tower.
Up on the Second Floor: Wanxiang Pavilion
A table was laden with fine food and wine.
Two talented young women sat opposite each other before zithers, their jade fingers gently plucking the strings. A melody titled Dreams of a Fragrant Crescent Moon flowed out like a rippling stream.
The few girls who had followed them in casually took seats beside the men, smiling as they poured wine and tea for them.
One of the companions, Zhang Han, raised his glass enthusiastically and said, “Let’s make this first cup a toast to the young prince.”
Jingzhao closed his Xiangfei fan, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “A few days ago, I ran into the most interesting thing. Do you want to hear about it?”
“What kind of interesting thing? Tell us quickly,” chimed in another companion, Wu Ruiwen.
Jingzhao picked up his cup and took a sip, deliberately whetting everyone’s appetite before speaking: “Li Guangyi, the second young master of the Li family, cornered me in a dark alley a few days ago. Guess what he wanted to do?”
“To rob you?”
“I thought so at first,” Jingzhao set down his wine cup, “but no.”
“Then what was it?”
“That punk,” Jingzhao’s face showed a trace of bashfulness, yet his irrepressible smile betrayed his eagerness to share the story, “he pulled a bottle out of his chest, said it was called the Four-Honors Bottle, and wanted to make a wager with me.”
“A wager on what?”
“Finger-guessing. He said if he lost, he would give me the bottle, and if he won, he had to give me a kiss. Hahahaha.”
“Our young prince is pure of jade and fine of gold, looking just like an immortal in a painting. A kiss from you might just grant eternal life! Whether man or woman, who wouldn’t like it? Even I like it terribly!” Zhang Han remarked.
“Go on with you!” Jingzhao scolded with a laugh.
Wu Ruiwen chimed in: “Brother Zhang, you’ve got that wrong. I’ll bet you anything the Second Young Master Li’s older brother definitely wouldn’t like it!”
Zhang Han wore a look of disdain. “Bah, is he even a man? If you ask me, he’s like a eunuch who made a mistake in the palace and got kicked out, missing that thing!”
Jingzhao interrupted, “All right, you two, are you going to listen or not?”
Wu Ruiwen: “Listening, of course we’re listening. Did you take the bet?”
Jingzhao said proudly, “Naturally! With this sharp eye of mine, I could tell at a glance that the bottle was a treasure from the previous dynasty. How could I let such a good thing slip past my eyes? This prince has never lost at finger-guessing; I won two rounds in a row. The punk puffed out his cheeks and ran off in a huff!”
“Hahaha.” Roars of laughter filled the room.
Wu Ruiwen touched his wine cup and muttered, “Well, won’t his father beat him half to death if he finds out? I heard his family ran into huge trouble recently. They were doing business with foreigners, and a million taels of bright silver went down the drain. With such a precious antique from the previous dynasty, instead of pawning it to cover the shortfall, he lost it to you. Does he even value his life?”
“What’s that got to do with me? I’d be overjoyed if his whole family dropped dead. When that time comes, our Prince Rui’s Mansion will definitely set off firecrackers for three whole days and nights to celebrate!” Jingzhao said resentfully.
Wu Ruiwen had only been settled in the capital for two or three years. Though close with Zhang Han, his relationship with Jingzhao was merely polite, and he felt somewhat puzzled. “Why is that? Aren’t you good neighbors living right across from each other?”
“Brother Ruiwen, you wouldn’t understand.” Zhang Han started to explain, but catching a warning look from Jingzhao, he changed the subject: “Let’s just drink for now. Come, come, drink.”
The girls waited on the young lords as they drank late into the night.
Jingzhao’s cheeks were flushed, the intoxication already creeping into his eyes. Zhang Han and Wu Ruiwen were no better: one was hugging a girl and nibbling her neck, while the other was leeringly reading a girl’s palm. Waves of drunken laughter filled the room.
The madam waddled in, her voice sweet enough to make one’s skin crawl: “Oh, three masters, you’re in such high spirits today. Why don’t you stay the night? The beds here are soft, and the serving girls are very attentive.”
“Crap! When have we ever stayed overnight in a brothel!” Zhang Han suddenly raised his voice, startling the girls.
“Oh my, look at my rotten tongue!” The madam pretended to slap her own face, her eyes sweeping over the girl beside Jingzhao. She filled Zhang Han’s cup and immediately resumed her flattering smile. “My slip of the tongue! Then what about a few moments of brief relaxation with the young lords?”
A rosy-cheeked girl, moving like a slippery little fish, naturally pressed herself against Jingzhao’s side, wrapping her hands around his arm and speaking in a coy voice: “Young Prince, why don’t you let Cuiling wait on you tonight?”
Jingzhao gazed at Cuiling through hazy, drunken eyes. She wasn’t ugly, just loud with her makeup. His heart softened just a fraction; after all, he couldn’t bring himself to be mean to a woman who threw herself at him, so he nodded.
Cuiling helped him back to her room, pressed him to sit at the eight-immortal table, and poured a cup of hangover tea. Inside, she couldn’t help fluttering with anticipation. This young prince was of noble birth, fair and handsome, with a pair of peach-blossom eyes full of charm. Intimacy with him would surely have a special flavor to it. Seizing the moment to hand him the tea, she leaned straight into his lap.
Jingzhao frowned, shoved her away, and then pulled a heavy, substantial silver ingot from his chest, slamming it onto the table with a loud clank. “Do not come near me! You just sit right there honestly. Wake me up in an hour, and if you dare harbor any untoward thoughts about me, watch your head!”
Cuiling had been a bit annoyed at first, but when she scooped up that heavy ingot of silver, the corners of her mouth shot up into a wide smile, and her irritation vanished completely. “Yes, yes, yes, Your Lordship, don’t you worry. This servant will just sit right here and won’t come near you. Get some rest.”
Jingzhao lay down on the bed, which he found slightly distasteful, closed his eyes, and felt a wave of bitterness wash over him. He suffered from a hidden affliction of a sexual nature; he didn’t even know what kind of illness he had. He had lost count of how many times he’d visited brothels on his ten fingers, yet he simply couldn’t perform. Faced with all sorts of women, he felt nothing; it was a pure physiological rejection. It wasn’t that his body didn’t work—he could take care of it himself—it just failed entirely when it came to women. It was freakishly bizarre.
He didn’t want anyone to know about this. Every time he came, he simply threw down silver and made the women sit idly by, strictly warning them never to leak a word about his impotence, lest they lose their heads.
Ironically, outsiders had no idea and assumed the wealthy and powerful young prince was dissolute by nature, sinking into soft, tender traps night after night. Whenever people mentioned him, it was always with a mouth full of envy.
Downstairs, Zhang Han and Wu Ruiwen had finished their romantic escapades and were now leisurely sipping tea in the public seating area.
Wu Ruiwen couldn’t help marveling, “The young prince is truly formidable. Every single time, he manages a full hour. That stamina makes one green with envy.”
Zhang Han remarked, “Appearances can be deceiving, you know. The young prince is still young after all. Youth brings vigor. Look at your age and mine; there’s just no comparing.”
Before long, Jingzhao came strutting down the stairs step by step, brandishing his fan and deliberately putting on an air of arrogance and satisfaction.
“Let’s go.”
The household servants had already prepared the sedan chair, waiting respectfully at the entrance of the Red Jade Tower. Jingzhao got inside, the other two men cupped their hands in farewell, and they parted ways.
The moon was bright and the stars were sparse; the evening breeze brought a refreshing coolness.
The four-bearer tin-topped sedan swayed and jolted as it approached Prince Rui’s Mansion.
“Your Lordship, someone is kneeling up ahead!” cried Ji Quan, his personal young eunuch.
Jingzhao lifted the sedan curtain, squinted, and found that the person kneeling with such an unyielding, straight spine looked somewhat familiar.
“Lower the sedan, lower the sedan,” he muttered, stepping out. With a swish, he snapped open his fan, walked closer, and scoffed, “Well, well, if it isn’t the Eldest Young Master of the Li family. What are you doing kneeling at my front door?”
The kneeling man also had short hair, wore a black Western-style suit, kept his neck rigid with his head lowered, and spoke in a cold, deep voice: “May the Prince be well. My younger brother was young and ignorant; I beg the Prince not to hold it against him, and I humbly request the return of my mother’s heirloom, the Four-Honors Bottle.”
Li Guangzong, the eldest young master of the Li family, held himself in high self-regard and kept away from both men and women. People often called him the “Jade Bodhisattva” in a waveless well. Normally, this man treated him with cold indifference and never even offered a greeting. Today, this lowered head and submissive posture felt quite novel. Jingzhao’s eyes rolled as he thought about tossing a pebble into that stagnant well.
With a click, he folded his fan, using the bone to gently lift Li Guangzong’s chin. The moonlight illuminated the man’s handsome profile: thick eyebrows, phoenix eyes, and a high bridge of the nose. He truly was handsome, and Jingzhao felt a twinge of jealousy. “Be a servant in my residence for seven days, and if this prince is in a good mood, I’ll return your crappy bottle!”
A flash of fire, bright as a torch, streaked across the depths of Li Guangzong’s eyes, vanishing in an instant.
He stared straight back at Aisin-Gioro Jingzhao, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. There seemed to be tremendous force hidden within his gaze, yet it was masked by a layer of frost that made him impossible to read. Perhaps the moment he chose to kneel here, he had already let go of so-called human dignity.
He agreed.
Entering the main gates of the prince’s mansion, Jingzhao had Ji Quan take Li Guangzong to change into suitable clothing, while he hurried off toward the western courtyard. He couldn’t forget to wish his mother a peaceful night.
Yet he arrived a step too late; Lady Jin had already gone to bed. He could only plan to come pay his respects earlier tomorrow morning.
Hurrying back to his own eastern courtyard, the moment he reached the entrance of Fuguang Garden, he spotted Li Guangzong dressed in coarse cloth robes, waiting there alongside the other servants. Even in rough cloth, Li Guangzong’s back remained straight. Dressed as a servant, he could still hardly mask the natural aloofness in his bones; he really did look like a jade bodhisattva.
Jingzhao glanced at him casually and announced loudly, “All of you are granted the night off. Let this Li servant stay behind to wait on this prince.”
Upon hearing this, the servants were overjoyed, offered their thanks for the master’s grace, and retreated.
Jingzhao walked toward his sleeping quarters.
Li Guangzong followed him with composed ease, looking less like a servant and more like a hero.
Jingzhao stepped into the room, stopped, and stood with his back to him. “Undress.”
Li Guangzong had a tall and sturdy build, standing nearly six feet, a full half-head taller than Jingzhao. No matter how much he hunched his back, standing before Jingzhao to cautiously strip away his garments felt awkward, stiff, and tense.
Stepping behind him, the plain white robe slowly slipped from Jingzhao’s shoulders, releasing a faint, spicy fragrance that was refreshing to the senses. Li Guangzong closed his eyes, secretly savoring the scent. When he opened them again, his gaze was deep and burning. Lowering his gaze slowly, his line of sight landed on the prince’s slender, narrow lower back. His expression was complex and hard to discern, partly stunned, partly harboring other emotions.
At that moment, the young eunuch Ji Quan walked in carrying a bronze basin. Recovering his wits, Li Guangzong hurried forward to take it. Jingzhao sat casually on the edge of the bed, lifting his eyelids with a lofty posture.
Li Guangzong crouched before him, using his large hands to gently remove his shoes and socks.
A pair of snow-white feet came into view. Li Guangzong couldn’t help slowing his breathing; he had never seen a man’s feet look so exquisite. The insteps were as delicate as porcelain, the arches curved like the moon, and the tips of the toes blushed with the color of begonia blossoms. Calling them delicate jade feet was no exaggeration at all.
Li Guangzong cradled one of Jingzhao’s feet in one hand while his other hand scooped up lukewarm water, pouring it over the instep. Repeating this several times until it was completely wet, he placed the foot into the basin, using his fingers to gently trace circles and massage the soles and between the toes.
“I never would have expected you to be so good at waiting on people.”
From start to finish, Li Guangzong didn’t dare raise his head, replying flatly with a single word: “Yes.”
“Have you ever been a servant before?”
“No.”
“Then where did you learn this trick of waiting on people?”
“I never learned it.”
“Hmph, you actually have quite a natural talent for being a foot-washing servant.”
Li Guangzong didn’t reply, maintaining a blank expression as he continued to tend to that pair of jade feet.
Seeing that he wouldn’t engage, Jingzhao didn’t press further. He propped his hands behind himself on the bed, tilted his head back slightly, closed his eyes comfortably, and gave himself over entirely to the foot-bath experience, occasionally letting out soft, relaxed sighs of breath.
Only then did Li Guangzong dare to lift his head slightly to look at the young prince.
The young prince’s face was flushed like a peach blossom, showing three parts intoxication and seven parts haughty delicacy. His slender neck connected to a collarbone with an extraordinary curve, and his small Adam’s apple drifted into view, trembling slightly with each breath like a tempting pearl nestled within oyster meat, breeding a greedy desire in one’s heart to pluck it away.
For some reason, as Li Guangzong watched, his body gave a sudden jolt, as though struck in some spot by lightning, sending a tremor straight to his heart. The strength in his hand momentarily lost its accuracy, and he unconsciously gripped too tightly.
“Ah.” Jingzhao yelped in pain, kicking out at him and snapping, “That pinched!”
With lightning-fast reflexes, Li Guangzong didn’t flinch even after being kicked in the chest. He immediately withdrew his gaze and knelt properly. “Apologies.”
Jingzhao was displeased and irritable. He thrust his dripping wet right foot right in front of him: “I’m done washing, wipe it dry!”
Just as Li Guangzong reached for the brocade towel beside the basin, Jingzhao lifted his eyelids. “Use your mouth!”