PCA Extra 1

The eighth year of Yuanshun, late spring.

 

Su Cen didn’t emerge from the palace until the sun was slanting westward. He dismissed his family carriage that had been waiting outside Jianfu Gate and walked home leisurely with his hands clasped behind his back.

 

It was the evening hour when households throughout Chang’an had cooking smoke rising from their chimneys. Lord Su took a deep breath of this worldly atmosphere—the scent of burning grass and wood mixed with the aroma of food filled his lungs. He exhaled slowly and sighed to himself: the mundane world is indeed a prosperous world.

 

Passing through the East Market, he bought two taels of Monkey’s Brew wine and some freshly baked date cakes. He ate a piece while walking, and when he finished and looked up, the three large characters “Xingqing Palace” gleamed brilliantly in the sunset’s afterglow.

 

The guards at the gate were already familiar with him and welcomed him with smiles, greeting: “The Prime Minister has returned quite early today.”

 

Su Cen responded with a smile. Just as he stepped through the gate, he encountered Qi Lin and Qu Ling’er coming toward him.

 

Su Cen paused slightly, and Qu Ling’er also spotted him. Immediately abandoning Qi Lin’s hand, he rushed forward to grab Su Cen and wouldn’t let go: “Brother Su, I’ve missed you to death!”

 

Qi Lin’s cold gaze lingered on their intimate gesture for a long while before looking away, comforting himself: those two will never have a future together…

 

Su Cen nodded at Qi Lin as a greeting, then smiled at Qu Ling’er: “Changle Ward and Xingqing Palace are only separated by one ward. You come here daily with Instructor Qi—how can you say you’ve missed me to death?”

 

Two years ago, Qi Lin had been expelled from Xingqing Palace by Li Shi, leaving the Three Guards of Tuduo leaderless. Those Turkic men were arrogant—they looked down on Han Chinese, and each one couldn’t speak Chinese. For a time, aside from Li Shi, no one in Xingqing Palace could command them. But Prince Ning couldn’t handle everything personally. After Chen Ling’s repeated negotiations failed, he could only tearfully plead with Li Shi: Please bring Qi Lin back—he couldn’t manage Xingqing Palace anymore!

 

Prince Ning smiled coldly, indicating: Don’t I need face? Words spoken are like water spilled—how can they be taken back?

 

Finally, with no other option, Chen Ling approached Su Cen, asking this person to help blow some pillow talk, hoping there might still be some chance.

 

Lord Su, quick-witted as he was, delivered the pillow talk very timely, resolving the conflict with just a few words. Li Shi’s original order was that whoever leaked the cause of Princess Ning’s death should voluntarily leave the Three Guards of Tuduo. So as long as Qi Lin didn’t return in his capacity as one of the Three Guards, it would be fine. Xingqing Palace hired Qi Lin back with generous payment to serve as instructor of the Three Guards, restraining them while teaching them Chinese and etiquette. This way, Li Shi’s face was preserved while solving Xingqing Palace’s current predicament—wasn’t everyone happy?

 

Ultimately, Lord Su reached an agreement with Prince Ning at the cost of not getting out of bed for three days. Qi Lin could return, and Qu Ling’er was hired along with him.

 

As a result, on Qi Lin’s first day back, he dragged those Turkic men to the training ground and gave each thirty lashes with a rod.

 

Hearing the sound of flesh being beaten mixed with those Turkic men’s wails of anguish from the training ground, Lord Su, supporting his nearly broken old waist, felt quite gratified. Sometimes these dirty deals were just so practical and effective.

 

But back to the topic at hand—Qu Ling’er stared at Su Cen with large, resentful eyes: “But Brother Su, every time you come back, you’re cutting it close to curfew. When I come during the day, how can I possibly see you?”

 

Su Cen counted on his fingers—it was indeed true. He hadn’t had dinner at Xingqing Palace for half a month.

 

After the “Tiancheng Rebellion,” all the ministers who had shared hardships with the young emperor were rewarded according to their merits. Zhang Jun was directly promoted to Minister of Justice, and the remaining position of Chief of Dali Temple fell to Su Cen, who had just been restored to his original post. This wasn’t all—over the past two years, Li Shi had gradually relinquished power and completely handed over regency a month ago, letting the young emperor rule personally.

 

The young emperor, just turned fourteen, felt inadequate and afraid, so he promoted a group of capable subordinates to assist in governance, including Su Cen.

 

This promotion directly elevated Su Cen to fill the vacancy left by Liu Li years ago, making him Left Prime Minister and the youngest Prime Minister in Great Zhou’s history.

 

However, reaching the pinnacle of ministerial rank also meant bearing heavy responsibilities. With the young emperor’s initial personal rule bringing complex governmental affairs, Su Cen now barely had time to sleep in the palace.

 

Today he had secretly slipped back, which was why he happened to encounter Qu Ling’er and the others.

 

Su Cen looked up and asked Qi Lin: “Are you leaving?”

 

Qi Lin nodded slightly: “Ling’er wants to eat Shunfu Restaurant’s pork knuckle. We need to get there before they close.”

 

Su Cen nodded: “Then go quickly, don’t miss the time.”

 

Qu Ling’er hesitated between the pork knuckle and Brother Su, then reluctantly released his grip, smacking his lips: “Then Brother Su, I’ll come see you another day.”

 

After the two had taken a few steps, Su Cen suddenly remembered something and called to Qi Lin’s retreating figure: “Instructor Qi, please wait.”

 

Qi Lin turned back: “What is it?”

 

Su Cen bit his lip: “There’s something that’s been troubling me for a long time. Please enlighten me, Instructor Qi.”

 

Seeing Su Cen’s serious expression, Qi Lin couldn’t help but tense up: “Please speak.”

 

Su Cen: “Why is your surname Qi?”

 

This was still one of the three great mysteries of Xingqing Palace from the garden party long ago. Even the brilliant Lord Su couldn’t figure it out. Logically, as a Turkic person, even if he wanted a Han name, he should have taken Li Shi’s surname Li. Why choose such an uncommon surname?

 

Qi Lin’s body first stiffened, then he pulled Qu Ling’er away without looking back.

 

Qu Ling’er’s interest was also piqued, and he kept asking questions along the way. Su Cen clearly saw Qi Lin’s seemingly calm steps actually include a stumble.

 

Great, now he was even more curious.

 

Su Cen walked along Dragon Pool toward the rear palace. The further he walked, the more puzzled he became. Last summer, Li Shi had whimsically drained Dragon Pool to change the water, and he finally got to see whether there were bodies at the bottom. He had long known who lived in Xingqing Palace’s rear courtyard. Now, of the three great unsolved mysteries of Xingqing Palace, only the last one remained—why was Qi Lin surnamed Qi?

 

Unable to figure it out despite much thought, Su Cen simply quickened his pace. If he couldn’t get answers from Qi Lin, couldn’t he ask Li Shi?

 

Better to arrive at the right time than early—dinner had just been laid out in the bedchamber, all dishes he liked. The master himself sat steadily in the main seat, eyebrows sharp as blades, naturally imposing without anger, lightly twisting the black jade thumb ring on his finger as he glanced up at him.

 

Su Cen sat close beside Li Shi and instructed the servants to bring him another set of bowls and chopsticks.

 

Prince Ning picked up his chopsticks and spoke: “Who dares.”

 

Su Cen: “…”

 

The two servants exchanged glances and tactfully bowed out.

 

Throughout the meal, Li Shi ate silently without looking at him once.

 

Su Cen thought it was fortunate he had eaten a piece of date cake earlier to tide him over, or sitting before this full table of dishes unable to eat would have been quite uncomfortable.

 

Seeing that Li Shi still showed no intention of acknowledging him even as the meal was nearly finished, Su Cen could only shamelessly approach: “I bought Monkey’s Brew from Huang’s wine shop. Would you like to try some?”

 

Li Shi poured himself a cup of twenty-year-old Taixi White and drained it in one gulp.

 

“…Alright,” Lord Su silently hid the wine pot behind his back.

 

After a while, he complained to Li Shi: “So many things have been happening recently. There’s unrest in Longxi again. Now that His Majesty rules personally, various regional princes are all scheming to gain benefits from the court. Though the Turks seem well-behaved now, I always feel Mohe isn’t a good person. Look, I’ve worked all day and haven’t even had a sip of water… So the Prince is still the most capable—back then you kept them all completely subdued.”

 

This mixture of flattery and complaints finally got some response—Prince Ning snorted with laughter and continued eating.

 

Su Cen felt like crying inside. How was it that after serving the young one at the palace during the day, he still had to come back and serve the old one at night? And this old one didn’t even appreciate it. Even though he, the high and mighty Prime Minister Su, had humbled himself so much, this person still didn’t buy it.

 

The right medicine for the right illness—Su Cen finally understood. Li Shi’s condition could be summarized in four words: unsatisfied desires.

 

Su Cen stepped forward and snatched the chopsticks from the man’s hand, slamming them heavily on the table. Then, with lightning speed, he straddled Li Shi’s lap, wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, and offered himself up.

 

“Stop eating—eat me instead!”

 

It was immediately like dry kindling meeting fierce fire. Su Cen captured Li Shi’s lips, sucking, entangling, licking and biting. Only after finally arousing the man’s passion did he slow his movements, tracing every tooth and lip line bit by bit, then kissing those eyes as deep as the vast sea.

 

Then he began to undress himself.

 

Li Shi watched with narrowed eyes as the person before him shed his outer robe, lowered his head to seriously untie the sash at his waist, looked up at him again, then parted the overlapping collar. Shoulders like white lotus were exposed to the cool night air and couldn’t help but shiver, then relaxed and stretched out.

 

The posture was like presenting an important gift—he offered himself naked.

 

“Don’t hurt me.”

 

Once unleashed, it was like an unrestrained wild horse that could no longer be reined in. By the end of the night, Lord Su’s eyes were swollen, his voice hoarse, and a fine fox fur blanket had nearly been plucked bald.

 

Just when he thought he would die beneath Li Shi, the man took his sweat-soaked hand, intertwined their fingers, and softly called him, “Princess.”

 

Su Cen suddenly shed tears.

 

Whether Chief of Dali Temple or Prime Minister, all those glorious and prestigious titles combined couldn’t compare to the impact of this single word “Princess.”

 

“What?” Su Cen seemed not to have heard clearly, or perhaps was greedy to hear it again. He stubbornly asked once more, “What did you call me?”

 

“Princess,” Li Shi leaned down to kiss him. “I’ll marry you with eight sedan chairs—will you be the master of Xingqing Palace?”

 

A beautiful dream, thoroughly satisfying. Su Cen felt he had just fallen asleep when someone woke him. Outside the door it was still dark, but servants were already waiting and softly calling: “Prime Minister, it’s time for morning court.”

 

Su Cen frowned and whimpered, burrowing further into Li Shi’s embrace and pulling the blanket over his head.

 

Thanks to their prince, his limbs were still weak and he simply couldn’t get up.

 

Li Shi chuckled and patted his shoulder: “Don’t go today.”

 

Su Cen struggled briefly but still crawled up: “No, today’s morning court will discuss the marriage alliance proposal sent by Mohe. I still have to go.”

 

As soon as his feet hit the floor, he grimaced. What kind of skill did this old fox possess? Last night in the heat of passion he hadn’t noticed, but now his body was covered in blue and purple marks—all traces of desire. Between his legs was especially swollen. The taste of standing for a whole day could well be imagined.

 

Limping to gather the clothes scattered on the floor, he finally said to the servants outside: “Come in.”

 

Li Shi also stopped sleeping, put on an outer robe and stood up: “Must you go?”

 

Su Cen glared at him resentfully: “That’s your Li family’s kingdom.”

 

Moreover, when Prince Ning was regent, he never missed morning court regardless of the situation. For him to be unable to get up on his first appointment—what kind of propriety was that!

 

Using the water brought by the servants to wash his face, Lord Su bound his hair high with a crown and tidied himself back into that elegant Prime Minister Su.

 

Turning around, he saw that Li Shi had also finished preparing and was extending a hand toward him: “Come, I’ll go with you.”

 

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