After midnight, Li Sui and the other two emerged, looking utterly exhausted.
Ruan Zanxue looked grave, his brows knitted tightly together. He didn’t watch his step as he came down the stairs, tripped, and nearly fell, but Zhuang Xinan caught him from behind in time.
Shen Ling had already eaten until he was half full. He was peeling grapes, squeezing them one by one, when he saw the three men looking half-dead. Cautiously, he went over and offered Li Sui a skewer of grilled kidney.
“Your Majesty, would you like to try some?”
Li Sui glanced at the skewer, then suddenly laughed.
His laughter made Shen Ling’s scalp tingle.
Looking closely, Shen Ling noticed that the emperor’s eyes were even redder, bloodshot all over—like he had a case of pinkeye.
“I’m not eating.” Li Sui set the skewer aside and took Shen Ling’s hand, rubbing his fingers. “Spring nights are short; let’s not waste time, Beloved Consort. I’ll spend the night in your room.”
Ruan Zanxue and Zhuang Xinan stood beside them like a pair of statues, gazes fixed straight ahead, each chewing on a skewer of meat. Shen Ling had thought they’d at least compete for the emperor’s favor, but they didn’t utter a word. They just watched as the emperor was lured away by him.
Was this the bearing of a scion of a great family?
They were way too magnanimous.
Zhuang Xinan chewed on one of the meat skewers Shen Ling had grilled. Watching the two walk away together, he narrowed his eyes and leaned a little closer to the person beside him. “Brother Ruan, is His Majesty trying to get himself killed?”
Ruan Zanxue’s expression was calm. Propping his head up with one hand, he lowered his eyes halfway and slowly rubbed his temple. “An old flame burning out of control.”
Zhuang Xinan leaned even closer and whispered conspiratorially, “His Majesty’s been dealing with government affairs nonstop for half a month. A beauty’s favor is the hardest thing to withstand. Do you think his body can take it?”
Ruan Zanxue was silent for a long while. Then he reached over and tapped the young man on the forehead. “Watch your words. His Majesty knows… what he’s doing.”
Besides, Shen Ling belonged to Prince Jing’s residence. The emperor might not be sincere; perhaps he was testing him.
＊
Li Sui pushed Shen Ling down onto the bed. Luhua Palace was small and out of the way, and badly in need of repairs. It was fine when Shen Ling lay on the bed alone, but with both of them on it, the legs immediately began creaking nonstop, as if the whole thing might collapse at any moment.
The emperor wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to be doing it on purpose, rocking the bed maliciously again and again.
Shen Ling felt as if he were lying in a cradle, bobbing up and down and swaying from side to side. When the emperor’s kiss came down, he stared at Li Sui’s red eyes, restraining himself again and again, until he suddenly sat up and pounced on the emperor.
The wooden bed let out a long creak, but in the end, it held.
“Your Majesty, aren’t you tired?” Shen Ling lay on Li Sui’s chest and reached out to touch those eyes. They had a beautiful shape, but the dark circles beneath them were absurdly heavy, making him look as if he’d pulled a hundred all-nighters.
“I’m not tired.” Li Sui caught Shen Ling’s fingers and nipped at them. His long brows swept into his temples, lending him a rather wicked look. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Beloved Consort?”
His snow-white teeth closed over Shen Ling’s knuckles. Shen Ling felt that if the other man used even a little more force, he could chew his fingers to pieces and swallow them.
Li Sui had a dangerous, razor-sharp quality to him. His eyes were half-lidded, but he didn’t look relaxed so much as like a predator sizing up its prey. He smiled lazily, with a teasing edge. “Do you want to be on top tonight?”
“Your Majesty is so mean.” Shen Ling ran his fingers over Li Sui’s teeth, feeling as if he were touching the inside of a beast’s mouth. He leaned down and kissed the emperor’s eyes. “Let’s try something different tonight.”
Li Sui looked up at him. “What?”
Shen Ling pulled off his sash and used it to blindfold him. Darkness descended, and Li Sui was no longer the one in control. His senses intensified without limit: the rustle of clothes, the tickling brush of hair against his skin, the young man’s slightly heavy breathing, and the feeling of warm fingertips gently caressing his entire body.
Shen Ling was nervous, his face faintly flushed, as he reached out to touch him. This was desire wholly under his control. The other man couldn’t see him, but he could see every reaction on the young emperor’s face. Compared with being passive as before, this was much easier for him to accept.
It was like taming a spirited horse—or a tiger or leopard.
Unrestrained panting, restrained struggling, and a chest rising and falling.
He wasn’t very skilled and fumbled a little, but the pain only heightened the stimulation. Shen Ling suddenly started coughing. Li Sui pulled off the blindfold and sat up, watching Shen Ling reach for the water on the table.
The corners of the young man’s eyes were red, and his eyes glistened. After rinsing his mouth, he even remembered to give a thumbs-up. It was hard to tell whether he was teasing or praising when he said, “Your Majesty, you’re impressive!”
Li Sui: “…”
His expression complicated, he got up, grabbed Shen Ling, and pulled him back into his arms. The young man wore a thin shirt, and when his back arched, each ridge of his spine was visible. He’d actually gained a little weight lately, and a thin layer of muscle had appeared on his lower abdomen. It felt springy to the touch—better than last time.
Li Sui gripped his face and turned his head halfway around, staring into his open, bright eyes. He watched those lips move and heard Shen Ling say, “Your Majesty, you have so much to deal with every day. You really ought to get more rest. Why don’t we call it a night here? Would you like me to massage your head?”
When Li Sui didn’t answer, Shen Ling thought, No way, no way. That’s still not enough? Aren’t you afraid you’ll literally die from overindulgence?
The next moment, Li Sui kissed him.
It was their first kiss, mouth to mouth. Shen Ling went rigid, thinking, Your Majesty, you really have no standards. You’ll put your mouth on anything. Then the other man bit the tip of his tongue.
He immediately shoved all those extraneous thoughts away.
It was a long kiss. When it ended, Shen Ling was breathing unevenly and clinging to Li Sui like a koala. It was a tight embrace. Li Sui buried his head in Shen Ling’s neck and remained silent.
The room was utterly still, save for the two hearts beating against each other’s chests.
Each had their own thoughts. Their bodies were pressed close, but their souls had flown far away.
“Beloved Consort, sing me something.” Li Sui’s voice was drowsy. “Didn’t you say you were best at singing?”
Shen Ling perked up at that. After he’d sung Loyalty to the Country last time, he’d thought he’d been off-key and performed badly, which was why the emperor’s expression had been so hard to read. Could it be that he’d actually liked it?
He immediately rubbed his hands together, ready to let loose with a song, only for the emperor to continue, “I’m sleepy. Sing me to sleep. If you sing any more nonsense, I’ll make sure you can’t make a sound afterward.”
Shen Ling: “…”
So he racked his brains and finally sang Little Worms Fly softly.
As he sang, he made himself sad.
I miss home so much.
I wonder how Mom and Dad are doing now. Are they terribly sad? I’d finally done better than expected on the college entrance exams and gotten into the school I wanted. The semester was about to begin, and my college life hadn’t even started—yet my life was already over.
It was all that cup of liquor’s fault!
I’m a bad kid. Where will Mom and Dad bury me? Will they come visit me often?
Life in ancient times is so hard. Everyone here picks on me. Not a single person genuinely cares about me. The emperor doesn’t just bully me—he sleeps with me, too. He’s not even very good at it. All that size for nothing. May he become impotent.
As he sang, grief welled up in Shen Ling. He didn’t dare cry aloud; he could only let his tears drip down one after another. So he wiped them all on the emperor’s sleeping robe.
After rubbing against him for a while, he buried his face in Li Sui’s chest and fell asleep.
Li Sui: “…”
His chest felt damp and cool. He couldn’t tell whether it was Shen Ling’s tears or drool. The two of them were entwined together, like a single tree with two trunks.
Moonlight shone bright outside the window, casting even the room in a layer of silver. Li Sui stroked Shen Ling’s hair, his thoughts churning. It was as if he were addicted: he breathed in Shen Ling’s scent, wanting nothing more than to chew him up and swallow him, or to knead him, invade him, possess his entire soul—watch him scream, cry, beg for mercy, or wail.
In the end, he only closed his eyes.
Sleepy. Tired. In pain.
As on countless nights before, it felt as though countless needles were stabbing into his head. He struggled between exhaustion and pain, his very soul seeming to split in two. He couldn’t find peace in sleep.
The arm around Shen Ling tightened a little. The person in his arms let out a soft whimper. Li Sui couldn’t tell if he was in pain or half-asleep, so, out of sheer spite, he tightened his hold again. This time Shen Ling responded. He struggled twice, then patted Li Sui’s back, muttering incoherently as he did so.
“Good boy, go to sleep.”
Li Sui felt his headache ease a little. Looking at Shen Ling’s dazed appearance, he asked quietly, “And if I’m not good?”
“If you’re not good, you get a spanking.” Shen Ling swung a hand back and smacked him.
Li Sui: “…”
If Shen Ling’s breathing hadn’t been so steady, he would almost have thought the fellow was pretending to be asleep.
“Little liar.” As he said this, he shifted Shen Ling a little higher in his arms, held him close, and closed his eyes.
The next day.
By the time Shen Ling woke, Li Sui had already gone to court, and word of how he had snatched him away from Zhaoyang Hall the night before had spread through the Imperial Harem.
Li Shi and the others were jubilant, as if they’d won a battle. They could hardly wait to hold a victory banquet. The exception was Jiang Xinbai—he’d sprained his ankle climbing down from a tree and wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for at least half a month.
As for Shen Ling, he waited anxiously for several days, but Zhuang Xinan never came to make things difficult for him. Instead, the Empress Dowager did.
The Empress Dowager issued an edict, saying that the Imperial Harem had become a disgraceful mess lately and that all the consorts were to be summoned to learn proper conduct. Everyone was called, except Jiang Xinbai, who couldn’t get out of bed.
Then came the infamous lesson in standing at attention. The six of them stood for a full hour before the Empress Dowager finally got out of bed and appeared before them.
“Old hag,” Zhuang Xinan muttered.
Shen Ling: “…” Buddy, you’ve got some nerve.
He sneaked a glance at the Empress Dowager. She looked to be in her thirties or forties, with an extremely pale complexion and a well-maintained appearance. She wore dark robes and was imposing even at rest. She didn’t resemble Li Sui at all.
“Raise your heads, all of you.”
Everyone raised their heads in unison. Shen Ling stood behind Ruan Zanxue and suddenly realized that the Eldest Young Master of the Ruan Family looked delicate and scholarly, but was actually very tall—he stood head and shoulders above the rest.
“Which one of you is Shen Ling?”
The Empress Dowager suddenly called his name. Shen Ling froze, and then two matrons approached him.
They hauled him out in front of everyone. The Empress Dowager scrutinized him from head to toe for a long while, then suddenly hurled her teacup and said with disgust, “What kind of seductress are you? You can’t stand properly or sit properly. A thoroughly ill-mannered thing. Punish him!”
Shen Ling was given ten strikes across the palms. The matrons didn’t hold back at all. After ten blows, his palms were swollen by more than an inch, burning with pain; even curling his fingers was difficult.
“His Majesty is His Majesty, but you are his consorts—and his subjects as well. How can you watch him indulge in male beauty without admonishing him? Men can’t bear children, so how is the Great Yu dynasty to have an heir?” The Empress Dowager still remembered how someone had thwarted her last arrangement. Her gaze cut over Shen Ling like a knife, again and again, her voice icy. “What use are you all?”
She was a devout Buddhist who disliked killing, so she had several tables set up beneath the sun and made them kneel there to copy scriptures. The others had all studied at the Imperial Academy; copying one scroll of scripture was easy for them. But Shen Ling couldn’t use a brush, much less understand Sanskrit.
The densely packed, twisted little characters were impossible to recognize once he looked away, even if he copied them by sight. From early morning until sunset, until he could no longer see the booklet, he still hadn’t managed to produce a scripture scroll that satisfied the Empress Dowager.
The Empress Dowager had wanted to make an example of someone, and had chosen Shen Ling, who had neither power nor influence but was rather favored. Unfortunately, there was another equally hopeless fool beside him: Zhuang Xinan gripped his brush and scribbled away in a daze, his writing crawling across the page like a swarm of flies. Just looking at it made one frown.
In the end, the two of them were branded talentless and immoral, forbidden to attend the emperor’s bedchamber, confined to their quarters to reflect on their conduct, and ordered to copy the scriptures a hundred times.
Shen Ling was locked up in Luhua Palace. His original body had never been particularly robust, and after being exposed to the sun, made to kneel, and beaten, he didn’t even last until the next day. That very night, he was burning with fever and delirious, unable to tell east from west.
When Li Sui came over, he saw Shen Ling curled up, his head buried in the pillow as he cried and called for Mom.
