Ji Zhen stood in front of the east wing door, peering through the thin window at the flickering candlelight and the hazy figure within.
A cool breeze mixed with fine rain blew past, making him shiver slightly. He gritted his teeth and pushed open the unlocked door.
Shen Yanqing was already leaning on the bed with a book in hand, not at all surprised that Ji Zhen had come looking for him. But when he looked up and saw how the other party was dressed, with his outer robe draped loosely and even his belt untied, he immediately frowned and scolded him in a low voice, “Dressed so improperly! What kind of conduct is this?”
Ji Zhen had anticipated a cold reception from Shen Yanqing, but being scolded like this still felt somewhat unfair. “There are not even outsiders in the courtyard.” He mumbled.
The eight servants who attended him closely certainly didn’t count as outsiders.
Hearing this, Shen Yanqing’s expression grew even colder, but he didn’t dwell on it. He simply asked, “What are you here for?”
Ji Zhen bit his lip in silence, his cheeks turning red.
“If you want to say more jealous things, I don’t want to hear it. Go back to your room.”
Ji Zhen, who had been ordered to leave, stood still. “This is my home, too. I’m sleeping here tonight.”
“Fine,” Shen Yanqing said, getting up. “Then I’ll go back to my room.”
Ji Zhen was so angry he couldn’t speak. “You…”
Shen Yanqing had already come to stand in front of him, giving him a glance. “What about me?”
Ji Zhen felt a sudden flush creep over him. Gathering his courage, he reached out and took Shen Yanqing’s hand, his voice trembling with uncertainty. “Don’t go.”
Shen Yanqing was silent as he met Ji Zhen’s flickering gaze.
Anyone who saw Ji Zhen in this moment would only think one word—lustful.
But Shen Yanqing remained as unyielding as wood and stone, ignoring the other party’s unspoken longing. He said flatly, “What exactly do you want?”
Ji Zhen refused to believe that Shen Yanqing was unaware of his thoughts; he simply wanted to watch him make a fool of himself. So, bracing himself against the embarrassment, he murmured, just as he had countless times before, “I want…”
He lifted his pair of watery eyes, the last word so soft it was almost inaudible. “You.”
Ji Zhen noticed the corner of Shen Yanqing’s lips twitch slightly and thought he had succeeded. He then guided Shen Yanqing’s hand toward his own clothing.
Shen Yanqing didn’t stop him, but just as he was about to press closer, he mocked in a low voice, “Shameless.”
All of Ji Zhen’s warmth instantly drained away, as if he had truly become the brazen person the other party had just called him. His hand trembled, and he tried to retreat.
But Shen Yanqing was quick and grabbed him again. They were only a few steps away from the bed, and in an instant, Ji Zhen was pressed down onto the soft bed, dazed as he looked up at the handsome face framed by the candlelight.
The red quilt shifted, revealing a flawlessly pale lychee nestled within its folds.
The white resembled mutton-fat jade, and the red like soft rouge—two contrasting colors, like a springtime painting laid out before them.
Ji Zhen couldn’t bear Shen Yanqing’s scrutinizing gaze and shyly tried to cover himself with his hands. But Shen Yanqing wouldn’t let him, caressing a spot of his smooth skin with his hand. Finally, he pinched Ji Zhen’s cheeks and shook him slightly, his tone remaining calm, “Have you been to the Huangyin Tower again?”
Huangyin Tower was a famous teahouse in the capital, which also engaged in prostitution. The singers there all had clear voices and beautiful faces.
Ji Zhen had a “friend” at the Huangyin Tower named Xiao Moli. After marrying Shen Yanqing, Xiao Moli had given him many erotic paintings. One could say that all of Ji Zhen’s knowledge of bedroom matters came from those explicit drawings. In fact, his and Shen Yanqing’s successful consummation of their marriage was also thanks to an illicit medicine Xiao Moli had acquired from the streets.
Of course, looking back now, Ji Zhen genuinely felt that his actions back then hadn’t been very kind. However, if Shen Yanqing hadn’t avoided him for two months after they married, he wouldn’t have resorted to such a desperate measure either.
Ji Zhen was a little confused as to why Shen Yanqing would bring up the Huangyin Tower at this moment, so he answered truthfully, “I haven’t.”
After that incident with the illicit medicine, Shen Yanqing had strictly forbidden him from seeing Xiao Moli again. Although he had snuck away a few times, he was always caught by the other party, and since then, he hadn’t dared to act so recklessly.
Fortunately, he had long since bought Xiao Moli’s freedom, so he didn’t have to worry too much about him being bullied.
Shen Yanqing’s slightly cool palm rested on his chest. “Where did you learn that?”
It took Ji Zhen a moment to realize he was referring to what had just happened—reaching into the clothes. He stammered, “Before, I saw… I saw them…”
Shen Yanqing knew full well what he was doing and asked, “Saw what?”
Ji Zhen’s face was as red as a charcoal fire. He bit his lip and leaned in to try and kiss Shen Yanqing’s lips.
As expected, Shen Yanqing moved away.
For three years, no matter how passionate they were in bed, Shen Yanqing seemed to deliberately remind him that it was all one-sided. There had never been a single kiss, not even a touch of lips. Ji Zhen had tried many ways to steal a kiss, but he was always discovered first. This time, his sneak attack was naturally unsuccessful as well.
He was so upset that the tip of his nose felt sore. Fortunately, Shen Yanqing didn’t press him on what he had seen.
He changed his target to other parts of Shen Yanqing’s body: the prominent adam apple, the long neck, and the smooth shoulders…
Ji Zhen didn’t get to kiss for long before Shen Yanqing applied intense pressure, and before long, Ji Zhen was like a willow in the wind, completely overwhelmed by desire, losing all sense of himself.
He looked up at the beautiful face with its tense jawline dazedly. His heart twisted and churned, its sole destination bound to this one man.
—
Back then, he had been young, wearing a light spring tunic, riding his horse and leaning against a slanting bridge, while red-sleeved maidens waved from the buildings.
It was a bright spring day, and the streets and alleys were bustling with a sea of people.
The top scholar of the new imperial examinations, Shen Yanqing, was parading on horseback today, and everyone wanted a glimpse of this exceptionally gifted young man.
Early in the morning, the teahouses along the streets were crowded with patrons, each stretching their necks for fear of being pushed aside. Waves of praise rose and fell, one louder than the last.
Shen Yanqing, the only son of the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Censors, could recognize a thousand characters at the age of three, was well-versed in classical texts by the age of five, wrote poetry at eight, and completed his studies at thirteen. He was the top graduate of the provincial examination at eighteen, the top graduate of the metropolitan examination the following spring, and was personally appointed the top scholar by the emperor after the palace examination, who praised him endlessly.
In the hundred years since the founding of the Great Heng Empire, only the late Grand Tutor of the former emperor had won all three top-level examinations. Now, Shen Yanqing, who was barely twenty, had achieved this feat two years earlier than the Grand Tutor. How could people not be completely in awe?
Suddenly, the Shen Mansion was bustling with guests daily, and matchmakers had worn out their welcome at the doorstep. Shen Yanqing became the most sought-after bachelor in the capital.
It was said that the founding general, Wang Meng, who was nearly eighty, intended to give his great-granddaughter to Shen Yanqing. The old general was a famous hero who commanded an army of fifty thousand elite soldiers. His son and grandson were also high-ranking officials in the court. If Shen Yanqing could truly marry into the Wang family, he would surely rise in rank and become the next great figure of the Great Heng Empire.
“They’re coming! They’re here!”
Amid the sharp clang of gongs, the crowd caught sight of a white horse, decorated with a red flower, trotting down the length of the street. Seated on its back was none other than the new top scholar, Shen Yanqing.
He wore a black scholar’s hat with a red agate in the center, and the black-and-gold hat wings on either side glittered in the sunlight. He wore a red brocade robe, adorned with red silk ribbons, and a pair of golden-threaded boots. He had a stately and majestic presence, a dignified bearing, and a divine, ethereal look.
On both sides, soldiers beat drums and gongs while shouting, “The new top scholar, Shen Yanqing, has arrived! Everyone make way—”
A woman exclaimed, “What a handsome scholar!”
The courtesans in the flowery pavilions leaned on their railings and smiled charmingly, holding baskets of flowers. As Shen Yanqing rode past their building, they showered him with fragrant herbs and elegant flowers.
Amid the laughter and cheers, a nimble figure darted through the layers of people, squeezing to the very front. The servants trailing behind him were scattered, calling out, “Young Master, wait for us!”
Ji Zhen paid them no mind. He went wherever the crowd was densest. He turned back with a smile. “You’re too slow. I’m not waiting for you.”
He had heard that Shen Yanqing was parading today. He had rushed as fast as he could but still arrived late. His carriage couldn’t get through the crowds, so he had to walk.
Ji Zhen had heard of Shen Yanqing’s name and had occasionally caught a glimpse of him from a distance. At the time, he only had a vague impression that the man was strikingly handsome, with a face like a lotus beneath the moon and a figure like jade, yet they had never truly spoken.
Shen Yanqing’s father was a fourth-rank official. Although Shen Yanqing had already made a name for himself in the capital due to his talent, he still couldn’t meet the standard to enter the Imperial Academy. Meanwhile, Ji Zhen’s father was the Grand Secretariat of the current court, and Ji Zhen, at a young age, was already studying with members of the imperial family’s side branches due to his prominent family background.
Both their fathers served as officials in the imperial court, but they attended different academies and socialized with different circles, so naturally, they had no interaction.
However, Ji Zhen strangely remembered this Shen Yanqing, whom he had only met a few times. He even believed that Shen Yanqing’s success in the top imperial examinations was inevitable, as if he were a dragon born among men, fated to shake the world.
When Shen Yanqing paraded through the streets, he was determined to push his way to the very front to get a clear look.
“Excuse me.” Ji Zhen put his all into pushing past the people in front of him with his shoulder. He was breathless, and a thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead, but he finally broke free from the crowd.
The gongs clanged deafeningly in Ji Zhen’s ears as the soldier shouted again, “The new top scholar, Shen Yanqing, has arrived! Everyone make way—”
Ji Zhen looked toward Shen Yanqing, who was just a few steps away, bathed in the spring sunlight. The light fell on his figure on horseback, making him look like a banished immortal descending to the mortal world.
Shen Yanqing held a vibrant peony in his hand. It had been thrown by a courtesan from one of the teahouses. He lowered his head slightly to smell the flower, then looked up and gave a small smile.
Ji Zhen felt that the man was more beautiful than the flower. Shen Yanqing’s red robe reflected in his eyes, and it was as if a colorful butterfly had flown into his heart, cracking open its innocent shell. A thousand strands of fragrance poured out.
Amidst the clamor of the crowd, he could only hear his own heart beating like a drum, so loudly that he had to raise a hand to cover his chest, for fear that his leaping heart would run out in front of everyone.
Perhaps his gaze was too intense, because it caught Shen Yanqing’s attention.
Shen Yanqing’s eyes met his, and a fleeting hint of admiration flashed within them. Whether he recognized him or not, he gave him a slight nod and then tossed the beautiful peony toward him.
Ji Zhen was stunned and raised his hand to catch it, feeling the same kind of joy one would feel after being hit by a wedding ball.
He blinked, and Shen Yanqing had already turned his gaze, riding his white horse toward the front of the street.
Ji Zhen stood frozen in place. He lowered his head to smell the flower, just as Shen Yanqing had, and a scent of blossoms filled his nose.
He felt as if in a trance, staring blankly at Shen Yanqing, now reduced to nothing but a retreating back. The evening clouds were brilliant in the sky, but all he could see was a fiery red.
It burned, burning through his very soul.
Ji An and the other servants finally caught up and, seeing him standing motionless, were so scared they waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Young Master, what’s wrong?”
Ji Zhen was dazed and couldn’t collect himself. He didn’t know what was wrong with him either.
He was born into an aristocratic family; even the world’s most precious jewels were just stones to him.
But Shen Yanqing had managed to captivate his soul with just a single peony, leaving him with an endless yearning, a desire that filled his every waking and sleeping moment.
It could only be attributed to the beauty of that spring day, which so effortlessly sparked a longing for love and a sudden rush of emotion.
The author has something to say:
Who started it first ah, Lord Shen?
