For several days in a row, Song Xiaozhou didn’t see Steward Zheng and felt puzzled. Thinking about it, he figured the man was probably scared.
After all, there were rumors outside that Jing’an Courtyard was haunted.
And indeed, Jing’an Courtyard did have ghosts.
Song Xiaozhou used to be afraid of ghosts, but for some reason, he wasn’t all that afraid of Lu Heng. Even though his instincts told him that Lu Heng was the most terrifying presence in the entire, vast Jing’an Courtyard.
In summer, the weather could change in an instant. As evening approached and the sky dimmed, the once-bright heavens were suddenly shrouded in heavy clouds, and a light drizzle began to fall.
Song Xiaozhou looked at the dense curtain of rain, then glanced at Lu Heng, who was resting with his eyes closed. As if aware of being watched, Lu Heng opened his eyes, a hint of inquiry flickering within them.
Confronted with Young Master Lu’s handsome features, Song Xiaozhou suddenly felt a tinge of embarrassment. He quietly twisted his fingers together and asked, “When you’re not in Jing’an Courtyard, where do you go?”
Lu Heng blinked and smiled faintly. “Is Xiaozhou worried that I’ll have nowhere to go if it rains at night?”
Song Xiaozhou mumbled, “It’s raining so heavily…”
Lu Heng looked at him without speaking. The young man had bold brows and large eyes. It’s not a delicate, fair appearance, but the longer he looked, the more a faint flush spread to the tips of his ears.
Lu Heng said, “Come here.”
Song Xiaozhou paused for a moment, then obediently walked over. Leaning back in his chair, Lu Heng raised his hand and grasped Song Xiaozhou’s wrist. He was a ghost, his touch was icy cold.
Song Xiaozhou shivered with his eyes widening as he looked at Lu Heng in confusion.
Lu Heng pried open his tightly clenched fingers and said, “Do you feel it?” His gaze locked onto Song Xiaozhou’s, deep and tinged with a smile. “I’m not a living person.”
Song Xiaozhou’s eyes fell to his fingers. Lu Heng’s were slender, pale, and well-defined. “I… I know.” He said haltingly. But when he thought of Lu Heng, drenched and with nowhere to go on a rainy night, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.
Song Xiaozhou’s thoughts were simple, if Lu Heng had wanted to kill him, he would have done it long ago, not waiting for a night like this. Besides, right now, Lu Heng was his greatest support for living safely in Jing’an Courtyard.
Lu Heng suddenly laughed.
That night, Lu Heng didn’t leave. The room was lit by candlelight, and outside, the summer rain had yet to stop.
Lying stiffly in bed, Song Xiaozhou suddenly realized this was the first time he and Lu Heng had shared a bed. Lu Heng was right beside him, silent and still, if not for the chilling cold radiating from him, one could almost forget he was there.
After a while, Song Xiaozhou heard Lu Heng say, “Can’t sleep?”
His tone was gentle. “If you’re afraid, I’ll leave now.”
Of course, Song Xiaozhou didn’t dare nod. Honestly, sharing a bed with a ghost was easy enough to grasp in theory, but while he wouldn’t call himself afraid, there was still a faint unease lingering in his heart.
So he simply turned over, lying on his stomach, propping his chin on his arm as he tilted his head to look at Lu Heng. “Eldest Young Master…”
“Lu Heng, courtesy name Jinzhi,” Lu Heng said. “You can call me Jinzhi.”
Song Xiaozhou pressed his lips together and softly called, “Jinzhi.”
Lu Heng smiled.
“My father gave me that name,” he said. “After he passed, no one has called me that for a long time.”
Song Xiaozhou liked hearing him speak of the past. Listening to him felt as if Lu Heng were still alive, just like himself. He couldn’t help but lift his face to look at him. Lu Heng’s eyes were lowered, his long lashes casting shadows over a face that was half gentle, half brooding, dangerous, yet beautiful.
Lu Heng reached out and touched his cheek. Song Xiaozhou said, “I’ve heard people talk about Master Lu before. They all said he was a great benefactor, and more than half the people in the north of the city had eaten the porridge he gave out.”
The north of the city had the most poor and homeless, and during festivals, Lu Heng’s father would always give out porridge to aid the people.
Lu Heng’s eyes turned distant for a moment. His father had indeed been a good man, spending his life doing good deeds, yet he had also been notoriously unrestrained, leaving behind countless affairs and, inevitably, a few illegitimate children.
Lu Xuan was the most accomplished among them—
his younger brother, Second Young Master Lu, the current head of the Lu family.
Lu Xuan—Lu Heng’s pupils faintly glimmered with a trace of crimson. Suddenly, he heard Song Xiaozhou call, “Jinzhi.” He lifted his eyes and saw the boy’s hesitant, uneasy expression, and his face quickly returned to normal.
His gaze suddenly fell on the hollow of Song Xiaozhou’s neck. The youth was wearing a plain white undergarment with the collar open, revealing thin, delicate collarbones marked with a blue brand, intricate patterns encasing the character for “slave.”
Startled, Song Xiaozhou hastily pulled his clothes tighter, hiding the brand that marked him as a slave. He was a slave from the West Market, of low status, long scorned by others.
He didn’t want Lu Heng to despise him.
After a while, Lu Heng’s cold hand gripped the back of Song Xiaozhou’s neck, forcing him to lift his head. Song Xiaozhou’s eyes wavered, but then he summoned his courage, staring at Lu Heng with wide, dark eyes.
They locked gazes.
Lu Heng chuckled, pinching his earlobe, fingers sliding down his neck. The icy fingertips pressed against the warm, ugly brand on the boy’s skin. “So you’re a little slave…”
Though the touch was cold, that patch of skin seemed to go awry, burning hot like fire.
Song Xiaozhou’s face flushed bright red. Lu Heng brushed aside a few strands of his hair, laughing softly. “Little slave, what are you hiding, hmm?”
Song Xiaozhou had never heard the words “little slave” spoken in such a… suggestive, teasing tone. His face and ears burned as he stammered, “…Don’t call me that!”
Not wanting to truly anger him, Lu Heng patted his back lightly. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. It’s late, go to sleep.”
Song Xiaozhou glared at him stiffly for a moment, then let his shoulders relax and obediently lay back down on the bed.
