PCA Chapter 144

As night deepened, the temporary palace that had been noisy all day finally quieted down. Prince Ning ordered ginger soup to be brewed in the porridge tent, with each person who had been caught in the rain receiving a bowl. Su Cen, physically exhausted, pinched his nose and finished his bowl early before returning to his room. For once indulging in luxury, he had servants bring in a tub of hot water for a proper bath.

 

Leaning against the side of the tub with his body thoroughly soaked, Su Cen still didn’t want to get out. Instead, his hands and feet gradually grew soft, making him increasingly reluctant to move.

 

Until the water began to cool, and staying in any longer would make his softened body stiff again, Su Cen reluctantly got up. Too lazy to put on clothes, he dried himself off and went straight under the covers.

 

Nestled in the soft, comfortable brocade quilt, he let out a long sigh of relief. This day was finally over.

 

Just as he was thinking about returning to meet the Duke of Zhou (going back to sleep), an untimely knock sounded at the door. Su Cen didn’t respond to the first knock, closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep. But the person outside was exceptionally persistent, following the second knock immediately with a third, clearly intending not to rest until he woke Su Cen up.

 

Lord Su rarely became angry, but now he shouted at the door: “Who is it?”

 

Qi Lin’s voice came from outside: “The master wants you to come over.”

 

Su Cen muttered something under his breath, certainly not anything pleasant. He was extremely tired today and really had no desire to attend to the master’s bedchamber. With furrowed brows, he protested: “Can I not go?”

 

The outside fell silent for a moment. Just as Su Cen was about to celebrate victory, he heard unhurried footsteps approaching again, stopping outside his door, followed by a command: “Break the door.”

 

The tightly fastened door bolt actually began to move bit by bit.

 

Seeing that the people outside were about to break in, Su Cen sprang up, cursed not too lightly, and reluctantly put on some clothes to go out.

 

Su Cen cursed all the way, calling out “old lecher” and “old fox.” The mountain wind was wild at night, and it had just rained. Having just thoroughly soaked in the bath, he now felt chilled by the cool breeze. Wrapping his robe tightly around himself, he finally reached his destination. Pushing the door open, he was about to accuse with “old fox,” but as soon as the word “old” left his mouth, he saw Liang Fang standing in the room and hurriedly changed his words, respectfully calling out: “Prince.”

 

“Old Prince?” Li Shi’s gaze slowly swept over to him. “Am I old?”

 

Caught by that gaze, Su Cen shuddered and hurriedly explained: “Prince is not old, it is I who am old. When one gets old, one becomes fond of sleep, and with old arms and legs, I came slowly. I hope Prince will forgive me.”

 

Lord Su, now in his early twenties, could hardly be described as “old,” and his words clearly carried anger. Before Li Shi could react, Liang Fang laughed first: “Lord Su really knows how to joke. If you’re old, how should we two old men regard ourselves? Hahaha… haha… ha?”

 

Li Shi looked over with furrowed brows, and after a few dry laughs, Liang Fang slowly sensed the mood and hurriedly said: “Prince is not old!”

 

Su Cen covered his mouth to hide his laughter, only to receive another sharp glare.

 

The tense atmosphere from a moment ago immediately dissipated.

 

Li Shi nodded his chin toward Liang Fang, “It was Zhong’an who wanted to call you over. He has some matters to discuss with you.”

 

So it was official business. Su Cen cupped his hands toward Liang Fang, “Please speak, Lord Liang.”

 

“It’s not a major issue,” Liang Fang said. “I wanted to ask how you plan to deal with the villagers of Cao Village. Originally, I came to ask the Prince, but the Prince said this was your case and that he needed to consult your opinion. I’m an impatient person who can’t sleep without clear answers, which is why I’ve disturbed you late at night. Please don’t take offense, Lord Su.”

 

Su Cen’s irritation at being woken up was considerably soothed. After glancing at Li Shi, he turned his attention to Liang Fang and said: “Since Lord Liang has come to ask, you must have some thoughts on the matter.”

 

“After all, Cao Village is under my jurisdiction, and for such a thing to happen, I cannot escape blame even if I died ten thousand times,” Liang Fang shook his head and sighed. “I have inquired, and their helping the Secret Door was actually out of desperation. Cao Village faces annual floods, and with crops failing, they were still forced to pay rent. It was truly because they had no alternative that they cooperated with the Secret Door. I’ve also asked, and most of them don’t understand the specifics of the operation. They weren’t directly involved in the robbery of the official silver—they only kept watch and stood guard. The ones who actually took action were Song Fan’s group. Many of them didn’t even know they were stopping government officials or stealing official silver. So I wondered if Lord Su could show leniency and give them a way out. That such a thing happened under my governance is due to my negligence, or perhaps I could bear the punishment on their behalf. After all, if I had detected it earlier, the consequences wouldn’t have been like this.”

 

After listening to Liang Fang’s explanation, Su Cen smiled knowingly. He had also been worrying about the Cao Village matter, and now he could use Liang Fang’s words to gracefully back down: “I’ve been troubled by this too. The villagers of Cao Village are numerous, and it’s not practical to bring them all back to the capital. Since Lord Liang is concerned about this, we might as well entrust this matter to Lord Liang.” He then turned to look at Li Shi: “I wonder what the Prince thinks?”

 

“You’ve already said everything, what else can I say?” Li Shi relinquished his authority with great magnanimity, indulging their little behind-the-scenes arrangement. At the same time, he added: “I ask only one thing—the ignorant may be pardoned, but not indiscriminately. The guilty must be punished. Without establishing law, punishment is unnecessary. Keep this in mind.”

 

Liang Fang hurriedly stood up and agreed.

 

After Liang Fang left, Su Cen felt that a weight had been lifted from his heart. His mood greatly improved, and the earlier unpleasantness completely vanished. Now he was putting on airs about wanting to stay, reluctant to leave since he didn’t want to face the cold wind again on his return journey.

 

However, Li Shi did not accept his gesture. He neither asked him to leave nor invited him to stay, but sat at his desk reading a book, not even giving him a glance.

 

Su Cen wasn’t sure which words had offended the royal dignity. He cautiously approached with tea, testing the waters: “Prince, aren’t you going to rest yet?”

 

Li Shi didn’t even look up, turning a page in his book: “There’s nothing more for you to do. You may withdraw.”

 

Su Cen was taken aback, looking at the pitch-black window outside, reluctant to leave. So he shamelessly stepped forward again: “It’s late. Let me help Prince to bed.”

 

Li Shi kept his eyelids lowered, saying unhurriedly: “This Prince is old now, willing in spirit but lacking in strength.”

 

Su Cen burst out laughing. So the old fox was still dwelling on that comment—no wonder he was being so cool toward him.

 

Prince Ning was currently at most approaching forty years of age, nowhere near old. Add to that his years of battlefield experience, his sharp features, and imposing manner—even men in their twenties couldn’t compare. But because of his high position and authority, others dared not be presumptuous, showing him respect and inadvertently placing him in a category above others. Being struck by this “old” label twice in one evening, and even being lumped together with the half-gray-haired Liang Fang into the category of old men, was undoubtedly adding insult to injury.

 

“Prince is not old, not at all old,” Su Cen forced back his laughter as he reassured him. “Anyone who dares say Prince is old is spreading false rumors and should be arrested and prosecuted as a warning to others!”

 

Li Shi ignored him.

 

Finding himself rebuffed, Su Cen circled the desk several times undeterred. Seeing that Li Shi continued to ignore him, he pouted and muttered to himself, what book could be more interesting than him?

 

He leaned in to look at Li Shi’s book and made conversation: “Lord Shang’s laws, though effective for their time, were too harsh—respecting only heavenly principles without human compassion. He punished Prince Qian, deceived General Ang of Wei, ignored Zhao Liang’s advice, did not exempt nobles from punishment even executing high officials. In the end, people dispersed from him, and he met a tragic fate.”

 

Li Shi finally looked up at him: “Without Lord Shang, there would be no Qin. Though Shang Yang died, his new laws were not abolished. Both the state of Qin and later the Qin dynasty followed his laws, achieving greatness, with merit as vast as mountains.”

 

“But he died,” Su Cen slowly frowned, looking at Li Shi’s features hidden in the shadows of the lamplight, feeling inexplicably anxious. “Once dead, he’s gone, leaving only a reputation as a cruel official. Whether the state of Qin or the Qin dynasty, what does that have to do with him anymore?”

 

“All men must die.”

 

Su Cen snatched “The Biography of Lord Shang” from Li Shi’s hands: “No more reading.”

 

“I am not Shang Yang,” Li Shi was startled before laughing, pulling the sulking little fox into his arms and rubbing him. “Why are you having such an inexplicable fit?”

 

Leaning against the warm embrace, Su Cen gradually calmed down, lowering his eyes to hide his emotions. Seeing Li Shi holding that book about Lord Shang had made him anxious and uneasy. The phrases in the book: “Prohibit evil at its root, equalize weights and measures, strict punishments, rigorous governance”—he suddenly couldn’t tell if they were describing Lord Shang or Li Shi.

 

With dynastic changes, Lord Shang ultimately suffered the punishment of being torn apart by chariots. When the young emperor takes power, how would Prince Ning be treated?

 

“I don’t want you to be like Shang Yang, sacrificing yourself for your laws, nor do I care about achievements as weighty as Mount Tai. I want you to live well!” Su Cen gripped the book tightly, looking up with a gaze that was both stubborn and resolute: “Can we burn it?”

 

Li Shi’s hand paused on his back, his eyes slightly narrowed as he observed him, as if weighing his words, or perhaps simply looking at him. After a long while, he smiled and said: “As you wish.”

 

Su Cen raised his hand and used the candlestick to set the book alight. The rising flames danced in his dark eyes, illuminating his somewhat pale face. He felt inexplicably satisfied and vindicated. Lord Shang was gone, his revolutionary laws were gone, and the punishment of being torn apart by chariots was gone.

 

The heat of the flames approached his fingertips. Just as it was about to burn his fingers, Su Cen still showed no intention of letting go. Li Shi snatched it away and threw it out.

 

“How reckless!” Li Shi frowned.

 

Su Cen knew he was at fault. Having been lost in thought earlier, he now came back to his senses, sheepishly rubbing his nose and defending himself in a small voice: “I was just about to throw it.”

 

Li Shi gripped his neck and stroked downward, intending to soothe him, but as his hand went down, he suddenly froze.

 

Li Shi was stunned, and so was Su Cen. Having gotten up in anger earlier, he hadn’t dressed properly, with only an outer robe wrapped around his body, not even wearing an inner garment.

 

This hand encountered no barrier, directly touching bare skin. His back was slightly hot, with the vigor characteristic of youth, trembling slightly at the touch of Li Shi’s calloused hand—passionate and sensitive.

 

Li Shi inwardly sighed “youth is good,” while without delay, he scooped up the person in a single arm, placing him on the desk facing him. When the sash came undone, a limitless vista was revealed.

 

And his aroused state was gradually rising.

 

Prince Ning narrowed his eyes, only looking without moving, but his scorching gaze seemed to have substance, carving like an axe or knife, making Su Cen’s throat tighten and his face flush red.

 

Su Cen, embarrassed and angry, cursed “old fox” and was about to close his robe and jump off the desk, but was warned: “Don’t move.”

 

He immediately dared not move.

 

Li Shi raised his hand to take a brush, leveraging the moment to paint a winter plum blossom, using only black ink, with spots of deep red where the flower bloomed.

 

The soft brush hairs carrying cool thick ink moved across his body. His skin, rarely exposed to sunlight, was pale, and the black ink against it was more stunning than on white paper. Su Cen didn’t dare look down, knowing his response, like those two plum blossoms, was fragrant and blooming, too wilted to look at directly.

 

The brush turned, using reverse techniques—up before down, right before left—exposing the hard wolf-hair brush’s edge, passing over sensitive areas like acupuncture.

 

Su Cen’s shoulders contracted slightly, and when he opened his mouth, he startled himself.

 

His tone sounded more like invitation than refusal.

 

“Can we stop painting?” Su Cen found his state, with robes open for anyone to pluck, embarrassing, but didn’t want to directly oppose Li Shi. Cautious and timid, he looked like a little fox begging for mercy.

 

“Almost done,” Prince Ning was unmoved. He raised his hand to dip in ink again and made a final vigorous stroke from collarbone to chest to abdomen, connecting everything with an old branch, completed in one breath with an air of aged authority.

What had started as a playful act became something one couldn’t bear to look away from.

 

Su Cen even forgot to breathe.

 

Until Li Shi’s sandalwood scent slowly approached, awakening him with a kiss. Su Cen frowned, his anxiety evident: “Why paint on my body? What if it washes away?”

 

Li Shi’s voice was deep, carrying a bewitching quality: “You are more beautiful than the painting.”

 

Lord Su’s defenses crumbled completely, his heart melting. He gave a dragonfly-skimming-water-like kiss, which consumed the last bit of reason between them.

 

Prince Ning’s gaze suddenly turned fierce, lifting his robes without delay.

 

Outside, the mountain wind howled; inside, hot sweat poured, blurring the decadent plum blossoms, transforming them into mountain shapes, into rainfall patterns, until finally, all dissolved with the fierce trembling.

 

“Don’t be afraid, there’s no need to fear,” Su Cen only remembered Li Shi whispering in his ear. He convulsed, trembled, his heavy breathing almost drowning out such a soft voice. Li Shi kissed his earlobe, giving him one final push with all his might, almost speaking in unison with Su Cen’s distorted cry: “I am here, I have always been here.”

 

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