Ji Zhen entered Huangying Tower and, upon hearing the familiar voice of his favorite singer, felt a surge of delight.
“Young Master Ji!” a melodious voice called.
It was early afternoon, and most of the singers in the Huangying Tower were resting, so it was very quiet.
Ji Zhen made a shushing gesture. “Is Xiao Moli in his room?”
After getting a response, he went upstairs with a familiarity born of frequent visits, turned down the left hallway, and stopped at the last room. He tapped on the door.
A soft, gentle voice from inside asked, “Who is it?”
Ji Zhen didn’t answer and knocked twice more.
Xiao Moli, flustered by the urgent knocking, opened the door with one hand holding up his uncombed hair bun. When he saw the person standing outside, his mouth dropped open in surprise.
Ji Zhen stepped into the room, turned, and smiled. “What, are you overjoyed?”
Xiao Moli quickly finished putting up his hair and closed the door. His voice was filled with joy. “Of course I am! It’s been so long since you’ve been here.”
Ji Zhen sat down in a chair and poured himself a cup of tea. He thought about it and realized it had been a full three months since he had last set foot in the Huangyin Tower.
Before he and Shen Yanqing were married, he used to come here every few days. One reason was to listen to the performances, and the other was to make sure Xiao Moli was not being bullied without his protection.
When he was thirteen, he snuck out of his home to play. As his carriage passed the back door of Huangyin Tower, he heard crying and couldn’t help but peek out the curtain. He saw a frail young boy being beaten with a rod until he was vomiting blood and couldn’t even stand up.
Though Ji Zhen was no great hero, he couldn’t stand by and watch someone be bullied like that. He immediately got out of the carriage to find out what was happening.
His carriage bore the Ji family’s jade plaque, so no one dared to be disrespectful to him. After he pressed for an explanation, he learned that the boy being beaten was Xiao Moli, a singer at the Huangyin Tower, who was about to be beaten to death for offending a customer.
Singers were considered a low-class profession in every dynasty, with lives cheaper than ants. But Ji Zhen couldn’t bear it and, on a whim, spent three hundred taels to save Xiao Moli. With Ji Zhen’s protection, Xiao Moli no longer had to endure abuse.
As he got older, Ji Zhen had even suggested to his elder brother that he wanted to take Xiao Moli back to the Ji Mansion, but Xiao Moli himself was unwilling. No matter how much Ji Zhen asked, he wouldn’t agree.
Ji Zhen later learned that the singers at the Huangyin Tower not only sang but also sold their bodies. Xiao Moli was the same age as him, but he was already familiar with intimate matters. The reason he refused to return to the Ji Mansion was that he was worried his identity would cause Ji Zhen to be scolded by his father and elder brother.
After that, Ji Zhen redeemed Xiao Moli from his position, but he continued to live at the Huangyin Tower. He only had to perform on stage and did not have to serve customers.
Before Ji Zhen’s wedding, Xiao Moli gave him a lot of erotic pictures, telling him mysteriously that they would be very useful.
He secretly hid in his room and looked through the books, his face flushing red. But on his wedding night, they were of no use.
Shen Yanqing was slightly drunk, but his handsome face held not a shred of affection at all. In the dim candlelight, he looked coldly at the shy and bashful Ji Zhen. He didn’t even drink the marital wine, simply gifting Ji Zhen with the words, “Fend for yourself,” before he flicked his sleeves and left.
For two full months after that, Shen Yanqing not only refused to consummate the marriage with Ji Zhen, but he never even set foot inside the main bedroom.
At the time, Ji Zhen was still young and naive, with a face thinner than a cicada’s wing. When Shen Yanqing refused to sleep with him, he felt anxious but couldn’t bring himself to offer himself to his husband.
Xiao Moli, having spent years in the entertainment world, was bold and sharp-tongued. In just a few words, he got the truth out of Ji Zhen.
“How could he do that?”
Ji Zhen quickly covered Xiao Moli’s mouth. “Lower your voice!” He mumbled. “If anyone hears, I don’t know what they’ll say about me.”
As Ji Zhen was Xiao Moli’s savior and had never looked down on his background, Xiao Moli couldn’t bear to see him upset. A few days later, he gave him a bottle of a colorless and odorless potion.
Ji Zhen took a sniff and asked, puzzled, “What is this?”
“It’s a wonderful thing to help you and Lord Shen become a true couple, of course.”
He then leaned in and whispered a few words to Ji Zhen, who was so shocked he nearly threw the bottle away.
“How could I do that?” Ji Zhen stuffed the bottle back into Xiao Moli’s arms. “I don’t want it.”
Xiao Moli spread his hands. “This won’t do, and that won’t do either. Do you really want to live as a widow?”
Ji Zhen lowered his eyes and shook his head. He was afraid that if he did this, Shen Yanqing would resent him.
But just two days later, the matter of the pink jade beads[mfn]This could imply a sudden dramatic event or significant incident[/mfn] occurred.
The servant’s words, “The Young Master didn’t truly want to marry the Young Madam,” and Madam Shen’s remark, “No talent, no virtue, how can you even compare?” echoed in his mind day and night. They created a sudden compulsion in him, an urgent desire to solidify his identity as Shen Yanqing’s wife.
This is why Ji Zhen gave in to a bad idea and accepted the forbidden potion from Xiao Moli.
With the moon high in the branches, he stood in front of the eastern wing’s door, holding a fresh pot of tea from a servant, hesitating.
Shen Yanqing sensed someone outside and quietly told him to come in.
The moment Ji Zhen heard Shen Yanqing’s voice, all his hesitation vanished, leaving only the courage of a moth drawn to a flame. He forced himself to look normal and pushed the door open.
Shen Yanqing was reading. Seeing that it was him, he frowned slightly but didn’t say anything more.
But sometimes, being ignored is far more hurtful than any other form of treatment.
“I… I came to change your tea.”
Ji Zhen’s throat was tight, and his words came out awkwardly, immediately revealing his unease.
Shen Yanqing knew something was up but didn’t stop Ji Zhen from entering. He simply turned a page in his book with a calm expression.
Ji Zhen set the teapot down, his hands trembling slightly, then picked up a porcelain cup to pour the tea. He was so guilty he didn’t dare look at Shen Yanqing. He stammered, “Are you thirsty? Have some tea.”
Just as he was about to carry the cup over, Shen Yanqing remained unmoved. “I’m not thirsty. You can leave now.”
Ji Zhen stood awkwardly, not knowing whether to stay or go. His palms were slick with cold sweat from his nervousness. He stiffly took two steps forward. “You should have a little. It’s excellent Longjing tea…”
Only then did Shen Yanqing put down his book. “Why are you so insistent that I drink it?”
Ji Zhen’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest, and his tongue got tangled. “I, I didn’t…”
Shen Yanqing stood up, and the candlelight stretched his shadow. He fixed his gaze on the porcelain cup. “Is this just ordinary tea?”
Ji Zhen nodded frantically.
Shen Yanqing seemed to believe him. He walked toward him with a leisurely stride and took the porcelain cup from his hand.
Just as Ji Zhen was about to sigh in relief, the other person raised the cup to his lips and said calmly, “Drink it.”
He was dumbfounded. “What?”
Shen Yanqing moved the cup an inch closer, and the warm rim touched Ji Zhen’s lips.
“It’s just ordinary tea. You can’t drink it?”
Ji Zhen looked into his ink-dark eyes, his heart pounding like a drum. He suspected Shen Yanqing had seen through him, but at this point, he had no choice but to play it well. Besides, let alone a cup of drug-laced tea, he was afraid that he would even drink poison if Shen Yanqing gave it to him.
At worst, he’d just make a fool of himself again.
Ji Zhen closed his eyes, parted his lips to take in the porcelain cup, and, following Shen Yanqing’s posture, gulped the tea down.
After drinking, he wanted to slip away. “Well, I’m going now.” He mumbled.
“Wait,” Shen Yanqing called out to him at that moment. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
Ji Zhen was more than happy to spend a little more time with Shen Yanqing. He felt no strange symptoms in his body, and his heart relaxed a little, muttering to himself that the legendary forbidden drug “Hibiscus Fragrance” was nothing special.
To his surprise, Shen Yanqing began to make small talk. Ji Zhen was overjoyed. One moment he was talking about the flowers that had bloomed in the courtyard, and the next, he was mentioning the new screen that had been placed in the room… He was the one doing all the rambling, but Shen Yanqing’s occasional replies were enough to fill him with joy.
But in less than fifteen minutes, Ji Zhen felt something was wrong.
“En, that peony painting, I had a court artist do it. It’s so lifelike…”
Stars danced before his eyes, his limbs grew increasingly hot, and a fiery current surged through him from chest to lower abdomen, making it hard to speak.
The moment he stopped, Shen Yanqing said, “Continue.”
Ji Zhen’s mouth was dry, and his cheeks were flushed red from the drug. Unaware of his state, he shook his head and mumbled hoarsely, “Peonies, I like peonies…”
He could no longer continue.
The fire burned ever brighter, and an unprecedented heat consumed him. He propped himself up on the table with both hands and said blankly, “I think… I feel a little strange…”
He then raised a pair of watery eyes to look at Shen Yanqing in front of him.
Like an immortal from the moon, Shen Yanqing was within his reach.
Ji Zhen had never felt such a strong urge to get closer to him. He even forgot how much Shen Yanqing despised him and instinctively stumbled toward him.
Unexpectedly, the other party deftly dodged, and he grabbed nothing, instead falling limply to the floor. Shen Yanqing used his foot to stop him, preventing him from falling completely and hurting himself.
Ji Zhen’s discomfort made breathing difficult. Clinging to Shen Yanqing’s leg, his face flushed, he sobbed, pleading, “I feel terrible… so terrible…”
Shen Yanqing looked coldly at his spouse who was in heat coldly, his voice like cold steel. “Who gave you the drug?”
Ji Zhen couldn’t hear clearly and just shook his head blankly, only able to say that he felt terrible.
The fire seemed to be scorching his internal organs, and the pain was mixed with an endless emptiness, as if he needed to be filled completely to be free from his suffering.
And at this moment, only Shen Yanqing could save him.
Ji Zhen clung desperately to Shen Yanqing, his breath hot. “Help me, Shen Yanqing, help me.”
Shen Yanqing watched Ji Zhen’s pathetic and wanton state with cold eyes, his voice laced with frost. “You brought this upon yourself.”
Ji Zhen also felt ashamed, but his urgent need for relief made him struggle to his feet and try to embrace Shen Yanqing. The erotic pictures he had looked at served their purpose well at this moment; he awkwardly pouted his lips, but Shen Yanqing moved away.
Shen Yanqing wouldn’t let him kiss him.
The realization that Shen Yanqing refused him hurt so much that it felt like his heart and lungs were turning to ash.
He couldn’t even stand steadily, his eyes filled with tears, a lump in his throat. “Why don’t you want me?”
His dark hair, damp with sweat, was sticking to his cheeks, and hot beads of sweat clung to his pale neck. The front of his robe was half-damp as well, and his eyes were glistening and watery, as if they had just been pulled from the water, exuding a sultry dampness.
In the face of this scene, Shen Yanqing remained composed and did not answer his question.
Ji Zhen was both miserable and aggrieved. He abandoned the last shred of his dignity to embrace Shen Yanqing, but Shen Yanqing pushed him away again, saying in a low, composed voice, “Your mind is unclear. Calm down.”
The other party was avoiding him like he was the plague. Ji Zhen felt utterly humiliated, how could he be calm? The Hibiscus Fragrance was burning him up; if he waited any longer, he feared he would melt away completely.
If Shen Yanqing wouldn’t save him, who could?
A thought suddenly flashed in Ji Zhen’s mind. He stumbled toward the door, muttering, “I don’t want to consummate the marriage anymore. I don’t want it…”
But before his hand could even touch the door, Shen Yanqing blocked his path.
Shen Yanqing’s voice held a hint of an almost imperceptible roughness. “Where are you going?”
Ji Zhen only knew that if he walked out this door, he would be saved. He cried, “If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone else…”
Shen Yanqing’s expression changed dramatically, his eyes instantly turning into a thousand sharp blades piercing through the dazed Ji Zhen.
The author has something to say:
Lord Shen, I hate you for being such a block of wood!
