Shen Ling’s father had once served as a Censor-in-Chief, a third-rank official. He was neither corrupt nor lecherous, and never abused his power—a stern, upright old man. As a young man, he had farmed by day and studied by night, relying on his remarkable memory to pass the imperial examinations. Later, he married his childhood sweetheart from his hometown, and they had two sons. His wife died when he was thirty, and he never remarried or took concubines. Though the household was somewhat impoverished, he was very strict in raising his sons and enjoyed a fine reputation in the capital.
That fine reputation had now been ruined by his two unworthy sons.
Shen Mei was obsequious and craven, clinging to the Prince Jing and framing the He Family, which led to the He Family being exterminated down to the third degree. Chancellor He had been the foremost among the civil officials, a senior yuanlao who had served three imperial reigns. Great Yu had always held its civil officials in high regard, so the extermination of the He clan drew considerable criticism. Those scholars didn’t dare criticize the ruler, so all they could do was curse Shen Mei, the treacherous villain.
As for Shen Ling, there was even less to say. He was a male favorite sold into the palace by his older brother. Though he was a fool, one still had to have some dignity. Submitting himself to another man and currying favor with the powerful made him an object of contempt among scholars throughout the realm.
So even after the family bought their residence back, the Shen household remained deserted. Whenever Shen Ling went out for tea, he could hear people gossiping about him, calling him a treacherous minister and saying even filthier things. Before he could listen closely, Shen Mei would cover his ears and pull him away.
Shen Mei’s official career hadn’t gone particularly smoothly, either. He had rendered great service and should have been granted a post far higher than a subordinate sixth-rank position. It was said that several senior ministers had urged the court that Shen Mei was young and impetuous, and had been arrogant in his youth; he still needed more experience, and his ambition had to be tempered. Of course, there was also a rumor that the accounts Shen Mei brought back were problematic, which was why the post of Deputy Imperial Censor that should have been his was withheld—the Emperor was deliberately putting him in his place.
In short, the Shen family’s once-pristine reputation had become tainted in the hands of the two brothers—and not just tainted, but downright foul.
Still, having a bad reputation had its advantages. Since Shen Ling had returned, for instance, it kept unrelated people from coming over to make a fuss and claim kinship. They could shut the front gate, refuse visitors, then slip out the back door to buy something tasty.
The capital was bustling, and Shen Ling barely had a chance to explore it. Great Yu had no curfew, and the city was lively day and night. Shen Mei took Shen Ling out for a stroll. As he watched the people coming and going, listened to the vendors’ cries, and breathed in the jumble of scents in the air, he felt grounded—as if he had returned to the world of the living.
The palace was enormous, but because it was so vast and so sparsely populated, it felt desolate. Though Li Sui was beside him in bed much of the time, there were plenty of times when he was alone in his room, surrounded by silence. At those moments, he felt like an ant trapped in a little box and cast adrift on the sea. Countless beautiful fish swam past him, yet not one could understand the little ant nest in his dreams.
During the day, Zhuang Xinan would chat and play with him, but it still wasn’t the same. No one understood his jokes or some of the references he made.
He could get by, but it still wasn’t the same.
In the dead of night, there were moments when Shen Ling lay in bed and felt lonely. He hadn’t lied to Li Sui when he said he missed home.
It was just another home he missed.
Shen Mei had three days off for the Mid-Autumn Festival. First, they went to the Outskirts of the capital to visit their father’s grave. They made offerings, cleared away the weeds, and burned paper money. Shen Mei knelt before the grave for a very long time—so long that Shen Ling thought he had fainted. When he gave him a gentle push, Shen Mei toppled over onto the ground, eyes closed, and said he was exhausted to death and needed to sleep for ages. He wouldn’t be accompanying Shen Ling out that evening.
Shen Ling noticed the faint dampness at the corners of Shen Mei’s eyes, but didn’t call him out. Everyone had their vulnerable moments. He simply took Shen Mei’s hand as though nothing were amiss and asked whether he wanted Shen Ling to bring back some food for him.
Shen Mei sprang right up and said he wanted the braised pork knuckle from Baiweiju, roast goose, roast squab, a stir-fried seasonal vegetable, and a pot of light wine. He wanted rice, and no mooncakes for dessert.
Shen Ling: “…”
Shen Mei drew out his words: “Little brother~”
And so Shen Ling headed back into the city to find Baiweiju.
It wasn’t until he stood at the entrance that he realized just how enormous the restaurant was. The crowds were overwhelming, too. As soon as he stopped at the door, a waiter came over with a towel draped over his shoulder and warmly greeted him as “young master,” as though he were coming home.
“Are you here to enjoy the view or have a meal today, young master?” The waiter sounded so familiar, as if Shen Ling were a regular. He was almost too friendly.
Shen Ling looked at the brightly lit restaurant, curious. “What view?”
“The Mid-Autumn lantern fair! There’s a procession through the streets, musicians singing, performers dancing,fish-and-dragon lanterns, and spectacular showers of molten iron.1Translator’s Note: Molten-Iron Flower (打铁花, dǎ tiě huā) Da tie hua, literally “striking iron flowers,” is a traditional Chinese folk performance in which performers splash molten iron against a hard surface or into the air, creating spectacular showers of glowing sparks that resemble blooming flowers or fireworks. The practice dates back centuries and is especially associated with festive celebrations, temple fairs, and traditional lantern festivals. The brilliant sparks illuminate the night sky, creating a dazzling display that resembles a shower of golden light. Pick a good seat and you can see the whole thing.”
The scene the waiter described caught Shen Ling’s imagination. He had a little purse of gold that Li Sui had given him before he left the palace, so he would have spending money. He wasn’t short of cash, so he immediately said, “I want to enjoy the view and have a meal. Give me the best seat you have!”
He was wearing a soft, pale lotus-pink outfit, his hair tied high, his lips red and his teeth white. Two attendants with imposing strides followed behind him. Anyone could tell he was a young master from a wealthy family, out for a good time, so naturally no one dared neglect him. The waiter praised his generosity and promptly led Shen Ling to the finest private room.
Shen Ling unfolded Baiweiju’s menu. The next second, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Sichuan cuisine, Cantonese cuisine, Huaiyang cuisine… It seemed to have all eight major regional cuisines, and even hot pot and barbecue on separate menus. This place was unbelievably well-stocked.
He studied the menu again and again, then looked up at the waiter. “Is your boss’s surname Xie?”
The waiter gave him a very friendly smile. “You guessed right. Our head proprietor’s surname is indeed Xie.”
Shen Ling’s fingers curled around the menu. “…Is your boss here?”
The waiter kept smiling. “Our head proprietor loves good food and beautiful scenery, and doesn’t like being confined to one place. He’s off traveling the world and hasn’t been in the capital for several years.”
Shen Ling was a little disappointed by the answer, but did the waiter’s words mean Xie Zhen was still alive? If he was, then perhaps Shen Ling wasn’t the only transmigrator in this world.
An inexplicable sense of anticipation rose in Shen Ling’s heart.
But his attention was soon drawn back to the mouthwatering menu. He first ordered Shen Mei’s food and asked the restaurant to set it aside. Then he invited the guards at the door to come in and eat with him, but the two men declined. Shen Ling didn’t press them and ordered several dishes he had been wanting to try for a long time.
“Would you like some wine, young master?”
“No.”
“Then our establishment also serves milk tea.”
Shen Ling: “…I’ll have a cup!”
He had a hearty appetite, but it wasn’t bottomless. He ordered three dishes and a soup, specially asking the restaurant to make smaller portions. Once everything had been served, he looked at the milk tea beside him, with a reed straw sticking out of it, and suddenly felt as if he were eating out during a holiday back home.
Dusk settled, but the room was not dark. In fact, the whole capital seemed brilliantly lit. Shen Ling liked a lively atmosphere, so he opened the window.
The heat that had soaked into the streets and alleys under the sun mingled with the autumn breeze, making for a perfectly comfortable temperature. The air was dry and crisp; the wind billowed his robe, and the city’s lights seemed to drift right into his eyes. He saw the fish-and-dragon lantern in the middle of the street. Gold and red, with a huge body and a large mouth, it was carried high above the crowd by more than a dozen men, seeming to fly through the air. Its ribbons fluttered in the wind like swimming fins, so lifelike it seemed real.
For a moment, he almost felt as though he had met the fish-dragon’s gaze.
It was beautiful.
But the fish-dragon soon swam past the street, and all Shen Ling could see was its tail. His excitement ebbed a little, and he bent his head to eat.
The chef was excellent. The flavors were almost exactly like the food from back home. What a shame that eating alone felt a little dull; this was the sort of scene where he should have invited good friends along to join in the fun.
As if something somewhere were answering his thoughts, someone gently knocked on the door of Shen Ling’s private room and asked, “Would you like some wine, young master?”
Shen Ling wondered why a big restaurant like this would have people going around trying to sell drinks, then replied, “No.”
He was allergic to alcohol. He didn’t know whether this body would be allergic, too, but he wasn’t about to risk it.
There was a brief silence outside. Then the person asked again, “Young master, would you like to listen to some music?”
Shen Ling: “No.”
There was another knock at the door. “Young master—”
Shen Ling set down his milk tea, wondering why the guards outside weren’t stopping them. He strode angrily to the door and yanked it open. “I said I don’t want any. Go sell it somewhere else! Your Maj—”
A cold finger pressed against his lips, pushing the rest of his words—and Shen Ling himself—back into the room.
The glass palace lanterns turned, brightening every corner. Even the patterns on the Emperor’s clothes shimmered with tiny flecks of light. Li Sui nudged the door shut with his foot, lifted Shen Ling in his arms, and gave him a little bounce. “Mm, your belly’s round from eating, and you’ve got quite the appetite. Looks like Tingting hasn’t missed Zhen much lately.”
Shen Ling: “…”
There was no way he could throw up everything he’d already eaten, so Shen Ling could only wrap his arms around Li Sui’s waist and say, “I have, I have. I missed you so much that my heart felt empty, and I could only fill it up with food.”
Li Sui touched the space between his brows with a finger. “That silver tongue of yours is no good.”
Shen Ling rested his chin against Li Sui’s chest and tilted his head with a smile. “Then do you like it, Your Majesty?”
Li Sui certainly did, so he pinched Shen Ling’s cheek. “Zhen is traveling incognito. Don’t call me ‘Your Majesty’ today. Use another name.”
Shen Ling readily changed his form of address. “Husband.”
Li Sui’s lips curved. “Does Tingting want to be Empress?”
Shen Ling: “I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare. Then what should I call you… Gege?”
Looking at Li Sui’s face, Shen Ling thought that the Emperor was only four years older than him, and two years younger than Shen Mei. He was indeed old enough to be called older brother. He was so young, and his face was so devastatingly handsome. When he smiled, his brows and eyes were like a misty spring mountain, and the red mole between his brows was like a spot of morning sun through the clouds. He looked both ethereal and bewitching—far too beautiful.
So, as if he were a little drunk, he called him again. “Beautiful Gege.”
He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.
Beauty makes a man lose his senses. Shen Ling, Shen Ling, how dare you flirt with the Emperor? Be careful he doesn’t turn you into a pincushion with arrows.
Li Sui, however, remained calm. He sat by the window and looked out at the street. “Looks like Tingting really likes pretty people. If someone even better-looking than me showed up, would you leave me for him?”
Shen Ling hurried to cover himself. “How could I? Looks are only skin-deep. Inner beauty is what really matters.”
Li Sui picked up Shen Ling’s milk tea and took a sip. “Oh? So you wouldn’t like someone with a heart as venomous as a snake or scorpion, then?”
Shen Ling: “…”
Looking at Li Sui’s half-smiling eyes, Shen Ling decided there was no point pretending otherwise. He rushed forward with an ‘Ah-yah-yah!’ and showered the Emperor’s head with kisses. “I like Your Majesty more than anyone in the whole world. I like you good or bad, beautiful or ugly. You’re the only one I like—you’re one of a kind, Your Majesty.”
Li Sui wiped the saliva off his face and pronounced, “Barely acceptable. Your older brother will accompany you to the lantern fair tonight.”
