The young Song Xiaozhou, with his first blush of love, couldn’t hide the passion welling up inside him. He grew up in the South, among different ethnic groups, in a poor but happy family. When his parents were still alive, he never knew hardship. That all changed after he turned twelve, when his parents met with misfortune. Song Xiaozhou had to leave his home, and after a period of wandering, he was sold as an item in a cage, experiencing the bitter realities of the world.
Perhaps it was because he was raised in a “sugar jar” as a child, but the spark of passion in his heart never died. When he met Lu Heng, that spark burst into flame.
Song Xiaozhou recalled his mother’s story: she had been the one to fall for his father first. She used her martial arts skills to climb up to the third-ranked scholar’s window, then onto the roof. When his father discovered her, she just gave him a bright, innocent smile and shamelessly pestered him until he finally gave in, and that’s how Song Xiaozhou came to be.
Back then, Song Xiaozhou didn’t understand, but now, for some reason, thinking about it made his heart ripple like a pond in spring, and every ripple was Lu Heng. Lu Heng was reading, sitting right in front of Song Xiaozhou, but Song Xiaozhou was still thinking about the time he couldn’t find Lu Heng and how much he missed him. He wanted to stick his eyes on Lu Heng.
The more he looked, the more he thought that Lu Heng is so handsome.
Song Xiaozhou knew what he looked like. He didn’t have a very good face; even in the Western market, some people found him crude, which was why he had been left on the shelf for years. He stole a glance at Lu Heng again and again, feeling greedy and infatuated.
Could Lu Heng like me? He wondered. If not, why would he be so good to me? And why would he say, ‘If you ever want to see me, I’ll come find you even in the depths of hell’?
Thinking of those words, Song Xiaozhou’s face turned beet red. He clutched the yellowed book in his hands, so shy he almost buried his face in it.
Even with his calm and collected nature, Lu Heng couldn’t help but notice Song Xiaozhou’s intense gaze. When Song Xiaozhou lifted his face to peek at him from behind the book, Lu Heng watched him with an amused expression.
Song Xiaozhou straightened up with his ears burning red. Lu Heng laughed.
Seeing him laugh, Song Xiaozhou’s heart fluttered. He scratched his head, and his two pointed little canine teeth appeared in a shy smile.
“Xiaozhou,” Lu Heng said, “are you reading the book, or are you looking at me?”
“Of course I’m looking at… you,” Song Xiaozhou mumbled. “What’s so interesting about a book? I’ve never liked reading since I was little.” Despite saying that, he held onto the book, a popular romance novel that looked quite old. As he flipped through it, he even found some small, elegant notes in the margins.
It didn’t look like Lu Heng’s handwriting.
Song Xiaozhou glanced at Lu Heng, then slowly moved from his own chair to Lu Heng’s side, squatting down and placing the book across Lu Heng’s lap. Lu Heng shifted slightly in his seat and lowered his gaze, the boy’s face mirrored in his dark pupils.
His eyes were large, and when he looked up, they held a particular focus and clarity.
“Jinzhi,” Song Xiaozhou softly called his name, his voice gentle, carrying an inexplicable hint of coquettishness.
Lu Heng: “Mm?”
Tapping the book on Lu Heng’s lap with his hand, Song Xiaozhou cautiously asked, “Are all the books in this study yours?”
Lu Heng’s gaze fell on his fingers, and he replied mildly, “Not entirely.” He looked around the room. “The one you’re holding belonged to my mother.”
Song Xiaozhou blinked. He had heard a little about the Lu family’s madam, she was said to be from a prominent family in the capital region, a refined and accomplished lady of notable talent. Seeing his interest, Lu Heng reached out to tousle Song Xiaozhou’s hair, his eyes turning distant.
“Jing’an Courtyard is far from the dust of the world, quiet and peaceful. When I was young, my mother often brought me here. My father, however, felt it was too lonely and didn’t like it. He would accompany my mother here a few times and then leave.”
“My mother was serene, but I couldn’t stand the solitude. After finishing the homework she assigned me, I would spend my days wandering in the hills and fields.”
Song Xiaozhou’s eyes widened in astonishment, his face full of disbelief. Lu Heng chuckled. “I was young then, seven or eight. The nanny—” He paused for a moment, then went on casually, “The nanny worried I might fall or get hurt, so she always followed behind me, while my mother was perfectly at ease.”
Song Xiaozhou asked, “Why?”
Lu Heng replied, “She said that if I fell, I’d remember it. No matter how much others told me, it could never compare to the impact of experiencing it myself. In truth, she always had someone secretly watching over me.”
Song Xiaozhou said, “Madam Lu must have been a very good person.”
Lu Heng looked at him, then suddenly lowered his head, leaned closer, and kissed his eye. His voice grew deep. “Xiaozhou.”
Song Xiaozhou’s heart gave a sudden jolt.
Lu Heng said, “What should you call my mother?”
Song Xiaozhou’s face turned bright red. He stammered, “Call… call what…” As he spoke, he realized what was happening and became even more flustered. “What are you doing… teasing me!”
Lu Heng smiled and reached out to touch Song Xiaozhou’s cheek. He said, “If Mother were here, she would have liked you a lot.”
Song Xiaozhou remembered something and immediately grabbed Lu Heng’s hand. “Then… do you like me?” His eyes were astonishingly bright, filled with both apprehension and urgency. His breathing was rapid, his chest heaving up and down as he repeated, “Jinzhi, do you like me?”
Lu Heng’s icy hand pressed against the youth’s hot, sweaty palm. That warmth seemed to want to penetrate his solid, Yin-energy-condensed body. He thought to himself, Song Xiaozhou said he was teasing him, but it was clearly this boy who was teasing him.
Lu Heng picked Song Xiaozhou up and had him straddle his lap. They faced each other, and he said slowly, “I like.”
“Of course I like you.”
Song Xiaozhou’s eyelashes trembled. He wrapped both arms tightly around Lu Heng’s neck, nuzzling him like a small animal, rubbing his nose and lips against his, and repeating, “This is so good… Jinzhi, how can you be so good?”
They kissed softly, almost aimlessly, in the dark study. A summer breeze passed by, making the bamboo blinds rustle.
Lu Heng felt a rush of tension at the boy’s devoted, trusting gaze that his temples beginning to throb. He gripped the back of Song Xiaozhou’s neck, stroking it. “Xiaozhou.”
Song Xiaozhou lifted his eyes. Young people are easily aroused, and the corners of his eyes are red, showing a hint of desire. As a ghost, Lu Heng’s emotions were amplified, and the constraints of the human world were trampled underfoot. For a moment, he almost wanted to devour Song Xiaozhou alive.
Song Xiaozhou was sitting with his legs apart, close to Lu Heng. He shivered, but it was because of a reaction below. He instinctively nudged against Lu Heng. Suddenly, he threw his head back and gasped. Lu Heng bit his neck. It stung a little, but it only made his whole body feel hotter. Song Xiaozhou shamefully tried to close his legs, but Lu Heng wouldn’t let him.
Confused with desire, he pressed his lips to Lu Heng’s, whimpering out the name Jinzhi.
The two words, uttered from his lips, came out slurred and clingy, as if carrying a trace of the youth’s own fervor. Lu Heng couldn’t help but wrap his arms tightly around Song Xiaozhou’s waist, hungrily kissing him with his lips and teeth.
Song Xiaozhou didn’t answer. Lu Heng squeezed a little harder, and the boy, whose feet weren’t touching the ground, kicked his legs, wrapping them around Lu Heng. He panted and said, “No, no.”
He had once been a slave. There were many young male slaves his age in the West Market. When they weren’t being paraded for people to choose from, they were confined in iron cages, sorted into three grades: upper, middle, and lower. He was in the lower grade.
They were young, but their energy was abundant, so desire was inevitable. At night, after the lamps were extinguished, the boys would furtively huddle together and touch each other.
Sometimes, Song Xiaozhou would listen from his corner. He wasn’t immune to excitement, but after years of being influenced by his father, he still retained a shred of pointless dignity, even after falling into the mud.
Lu Heng asked him again, “Do you like it?” His cold hand was now sticky and wet with the youth’s clear fluid. He was doing this, yet his tone was calm and steady.
Song Xiaozhou’s breathing became even more rapid. Suddenly, he tensed his calves and hooked them tightly around Lu Heng.
