“Insolent! What are you doing?!”
Li Guangzong froze. He seemed unable to believe what he had just heard, as a layer of eerie, deep crimson rapidly spread from the corners of his eyes to his pupils. He slowly raised his gaze, staring fixedly at Jingzhao with a complex, gloomy look that held both obvious shock and a hidden, imperceptible desire.
It was as if a beast that had been suppressed for a long time was lurking beneath the film of his eyes, about to burst out.
Jingzhao seemed to realize what outrageous words he had just blurted out. He had simply wanted to humiliate Li Guangzong, but his mouth had been too fast, speaking without thinking.
Coming back to his senses, he felt something was not quite right. “Forget it.”
He attempted to retract his foot, but instantly, his ankle was caught by a large hand. The other person’s grip was immensely strong, like an iron vice, leaving him completely unable to move.
This really frightened Jingzhao, and the intoxicated flush on his small face instantly drained of all color. “What are you doing?” He mustered his strength and pulled his foot back hard, but despite struggling several times, that foot remained firmly in Li Guangzong’s grasp.
“To wipe the young prince’s feet.” Li Guangzong’s voice was low and hoarse. With a devout gaze, he pulled that jade-like foot right before his eyes.
The warm breath brushed against the bridge of his foot. Jingzhao’s pupils constricted sharply. He bit his lower lip and said angrily, “No need, let go!”
Ignoring him completely, Li Guangzong stared intently with bloodshot eyes at that snow-white foot. He looked like a small, humble mortal in the mortal world who desperately needed to find his faith. With an addictive fascination, he slowly opened his mouth.
“You.” Jingzhao was so startled that his heartbeat skipped a beat. “Mm.” He wanted to say more, but a low moan escaped from his throat. He hurriedly raised his hand to cover his mouth, his pure eyes wide and glaring straight at Li Guangzong.
How perverted. Li Guangzong, you.
Damn your living Buddha!
He had known of Li Guangzong since he could remember, but Li Guangzong had left home at age six to spend eight years at the Shaolin Temple, and upon returning at fourteen, he went abroad for another six years, only coming back two years ago. They were not very close, but he truly never expected him to be such a pervert.
Jingzhao’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his little heart beating wildly. He felt as though ten thousand ants were crawling along the nerves of his foot straight to his heart, circling, biting, and rubbing against that spot, gently and softly stirring up a tingling, numb itch that made his waist and hips tremble, suddenly giving rise to an intense, unspeakable impulse.
At this moment, he seemed to have a new understanding of his hidden ailment.
His heart panicked. He watched Li Guangzong’s pair of righteous yet evil black eyes staring at him provokingly, just like a beast toying with a trophy controlled beneath its paws. The prey’s reaction filled the man’s eyes with a trace of excitement.
“Dog of a servant!” Stung by Li Guangzong’s gaze, Jingzhao flew into a rage, picked up the jade pillow behind him, and fiercely hurled it at him. “Clatter!” The jade pillow flew past the side of Li Guangzong’s head. Realizing the young prince was genuinely angered, Li Guangzong quickly let go, his body and gaze retreating together as he lowered his eyes to kneel properly once more.
“Apologies.”
Jingzhao no longer wanted his feet wiped. He pulled back his foot, crawled onto the bed, pulled the quilt over his head, and issued a fierce, angry command: “Get out and stand guard for the night!”
Li Guangzong picked up the fallen pillow from the floor, stood up to put it back, and looked at the bulging figure wrapped in the thin silk quilt. He raised a hand to brush away the wetness from the corner of his lips, turned around, and a hard-to-hide hint of interest welled up in his dark eyes, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile.
Perhaps he too found it interesting.
Early in the morning, just as dawn was breaking.
The prince’s residence was still immersed in silence, but the servants of the eastern courtyard were already busy amidst the morning mist.
Jingzhao seemed to have had a wonderful dream last night; upon waking up, a handsome smile hung on his face. “Someone come.”
Li Guangzong had spent the entire night in the outdoor corridor feeding mosquitoes, practically without closing his eyes. Hearing the young prince’s summons, he rose from the base of the wall, straightened his back, and walked inside.
The moment Jingzhao saw him, he recalled the perverted scene from last night. Feeling as though he had been desecrated, his smile instantly vanished.
“Dress me.”
Li Guangzong fetched the new shoes and socks prepared by the maidservants. Jingzhao lazily sat up and extended his foot for Li Guangzong to dress him, but fearing the man might harbor some bad intentions, he retracted his foot and commanded: “Turn your head away!”
Helplessly, Li Guangzong had no choice but to comply. Turning his head sideways, Jingzhao extended his foot once more. Relying purely on intuition, Li Guangzong blindly put the socks on him. Only after they were on did he dare turn his head back to put on his shoes.
When it was time to get down, Jingzhao made Li Guangzong lie flat on the floor to serve as a stepping stone, insisting on stepping on Li Guangzong’s back before being willing to get out of bed. Li Guangzong endured the humiliation and obeyed, crawling like a dog to let the young prince step and trample upon his back.
His dignity was clearly being ground and rubbed against the floor. Presumably, that four-vessel vase was of utmost importance to him.
Jingzhao granted Li Guangzong a two-hour break to rest.
However, he did not let him go home to rest, sending him to the woodshed instead.
As for Jingzhao himself, he hurried off to the western courtyard to fulfill his filial duties.
Jingzhao stepped into the main hall of the Lanbi Studio. Wearing a high Manchu head-dress and exquisite Manchu court attire, his mother looked dignified and elegant as she sat in the side parlor partaking in breakfast.
“Your son greets Niangniang.” Jingzhao stepped forward and properly performed the Manchu court greeting to the primary wife.
The primary wife glanced at him sideways and continued eating the porridge before her, not telling him to rise for quite a while. Jingzhao knew right away that his mother found his hair offensive once more. He said, “Mother, the imperial court is no longer holding things together; you don’t need to keep staring at your son’s scalp.”
“Silence! Cough, cough.” The primary wife broke into a violent fit of coughing. Only after managing to catch her breath did she wheeze weakly, “We Manchus shave our heads and wear queues; that is the tradition left by our ancestors. Look at you, you look like a brothel gigolo, what kind of system is this!”
Last year, a foreign child had mocked Jingzhao’s queue, calling it a dog’s tail. In a fit of anger, he had cut it off. The primary wife and the prince had almost been angered to death, forcing him to attach a fake queue and grow his hair out. He had resisted desperately through a hunger strike, and in the end, the primary wife’s heart softened, leaving things as they were. Fortunately, the Empress Dowager had passed away, and the Prince was powerful, so no one dared say anything to him.
“Oh, mother, anger harms the body.” Before the primary wife could tell him to rise, he grew tired of holding the pose and stood up on his own. Catching sight of the white rice porridge on the table, he smiled and leaned closer. “Why is mother eating so lightly today?” With that, he naturally joined the table, picked up a piece of pea flour cake, and popped it into his mouth. A maidservant, showing quick wit, promptly added a bowl and set of chopsticks for him.
The primary wife sighed. “The national situation is tense, and the imperial court cannot issue salaries. With our entire household, if that day truly comes.” She didn’t finish, turning her spearhead back toward Jingzhao.
“Your monthly allowance is halved. The total monthly expenses of your three older sisters don’t even add up to yours. Tell me, where on earth do you spend all your money?”
“Mother, your son only collects a few antiques and calligraphy pieces. When those things are sold, they turn into bright, shining silver.” Jingzhao was adept at coaxing his mother. He had no objection to the halved allowance, nor did he dare have any, for fear that the primary wife would inquire too closely about where his money actually went.
He drank, ate, whored, and gambled, only stopping short of smoking opium; how could he dare tell her?
With mother and son being affectionate and filial after some light conversation, Jingzhao finished breakfast with the primary wife and left.
On his way back, he instructed Ji Quan not to let anyone from the eastern courtyard leak the matter of him bringing Li Guangzong back, or else they would be sold off as bondservants.
For several days in a row, Li Guangzong docilely allowed himself to be ordered about by the young prince like a beast of burden. He ate poorly, subsisting on spoiled soup and leftovers. He slept poorly in a damp, gloomy woodshed. He was worn to a frailty by the torment; it was only due to his robust constitution that he hadn’t fallen ill.
On the night of the seventh day, after finishing a novel titled Pear Clouds by the Pillow, Jingzhao suddenly summoned Li Guangzong to wash his feet.
One had to know that ever since the first time Li Guangzong washed his feet, Jingzhao hadn’t even let Li Guangzong look at them. Today, goodness knows what had gotten into him.
The room was perfumed with dragon’s saliva incense, and the windows were half-shut. Water-like moonlight wrapped in a warm breeze poured in, causing the candlelight on the stand to flicker unsteadily.
With his knees pressed against the floor, Li Guangzong earnestly massaged Jingzhao’s feet with his large hands. Suddenly, whether Li Guangzong pressed on a certain acupoint, Jingzhao’s body tightened. He immediately opened his eyes, breathing rapidly with an aura carrying a trace of unexplainable feverish heat: “Li Guangzong.”
Li Guangzong raised his gaze: “Young Prince.”
Jingzhao stared deeply at the handsome eldest young master of the Li family. That pair of cold, dark eyes seemed to hide countless unknown secrets, making one unable to help wanting to explore them. Acting on a sudden whim, he raised his foot and extended it right before Li Guangzong’s eyes.
“Wipe it clean.”
“Yes.”
Li Guangzong picked up the brocade handkerchief from the edge of the basin and placed it over the bridge of his foot. Just as he was about to wipe, Jingzhao kicked the handkerchief away. “I want your mouth.”
Hearing the young prince’s demand, besides a twitch of his ear, Li Guangzong’s face remained utterly devoid of a single ripple, as calm as if he had long known the young prince would make this demand again.
He quietly looked back at the little prince. Their gazes met, secretly exchanging information, neither knowing who had seen through whose heart, making the atmosphere increasingly bizarre and subtle. He raised his hand to grip the young prince’s ankle and slowly turned his head to the side.
The warm, damp tip of a feather brushed past the contour of the moon. Jingzhao’s scalp tingled, his breathing tightened, and he instinctively bit his lower lip, tilting his head slightly backward. “Mm. Li Guangzong.”
A wave of crimson flush spread across his fair neck. Jingzhao’s expression gradually grew hazy, his lips parting and closing continuously. One alluring, low moan after another unconsciously spilled out: “Li Guangzong.” His brain felt empty, all reason had flown away, and he couldn’t control his mouth from calling out the man’s name. Right in the prime age of youthful awakening, all that remained were intolerable urges of eager anticipation toward a man.
He wanted to figure out whether his hidden ailment was truly like what was written in novels, that he was a cut-sleeve, and why he had such a reaction toward Li Guangzong, who was also a man.
“Insolent!” A thunderous roar exploded from the beaded curtains. “What are you doing?!”
This thick, rough voice gave Jingzhao a violent start. He suddenly opened his eyes, so nervous that his tongue tied itself up: “Ah, Ah-ma, why have you returned.” Panicking to the extreme, he kicked Li Guangzong away, not even caring about his shoes, and got off the bed to hurry over. He dropped to his knees and performed a deep kowtow: “Peace to Ah-ma.”
“What, is this prince returning at a bad time?”
“Yes, no, it is a good time.”
Prince Rui possessed a robust physique, with a thick queue hanging behind his black robe and riding jacket. His fierce gaze shot toward Li Guangzong, who had his back turned to him. “Turn your head around.”
Li Guangzong raised a hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, standing up unhurriedly. As he turned around, he carried an air of dark and malevolent severity. Abandoning the humble posture he had maintained before the young prince, he lifted his chin slightly, his eyes cold and arrogant, shimmering with a chilling frost of hatred as he blinked.
“You! Li, Li Guangzong?” The Prince was shocked.
“I beg the young prince to show mercy and return my late mother’s heirloom, the Four-Vessel Vase.” Li Guangzong spoke with a ringing voice, stressing the four words “late mother’s heirloom” heavily. His words were addressed to Jingzhao, but his gaze was nailed fiercely onto the Prince’s face.
The Prince’s expression flickered as he looked at Jingzhao, who was still kneeling. “What is the meaning of this?”
Jingzhao felt somewhat aggrieved and muttered, “Li Guangyi used the Four-Vessel Vase to gamble with me in a guessing game, and I won. He came to demand it back.” Casting a sidelong glance at Li Guangzong, Jingzhao stood up and hurried in small steps to his father’s ear, lowering his voice to explain: “Ah-ma, don’t misunderstand. I was just teaching this dog of a servant from the Li family a lesson, venting some pent-up frustration for mother.”
“Return the vase to him!” the Prince commanded.
Reluctant and unwilling, yet not daring to defy the Prince’s command, Jingzhao dragged his feet, putting on his shoes and shuffling out the door step by step.
The moment Jingzhao left, the Prince’s expression instantly shifted. He stepped forward and grabbed Li Guangzong by the collar with a rough movement, his eyes wide with anger: “If you dare harbor any crooked thoughts toward Jingzhao, I’ll take your life!”
Li Guangzong half-closed his eyes, coldly looking down at the crude man. Reaching out, he grabbed the man’s wrist, exerting fierce force as if his five fingers were about to embed themselves into the flesh, his knuckles taut and turning pale. With absolute youthful and superior strength, he pried the Prince’s hand open, bit by bit.
“Aisin Gioro Fengshan, don’t ever fall into my hands, or else I will make you wish you were dead.” With a look of disdain, he shook off the Prince’s hand and strode out.