Xue Yunyi froze for a moment, her palm hovering stiffly in place.
The youth didn’t dare move again. He tilted his head up to gaze at her face, his clear eyes brimming with cautious, fawning care.
A strange sensation welled up in Xue Yunyi’s heart.
Her cheeks suddenly grew warm, but she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him a little longer. “Call it again. Would that be alright?”
At her words, the youth’s usually aloof eyes sparkled with delight, as though he’d received some priceless reward. Mustering his courage, he called out softly once more.
His voice was a touch louder this time—loud enough for Xue Yunyi to hear clearly.
“Good boy.” She couldn’t help ruffling Wu Lang’s hair again.
Remembering she still had some scolding to deliver, she cleared her throat lightly and schooled her expression into sternness. “From now on, no more keeping things from This Palace. If there’s a next time, This Palace won’t go easy on you. Eat more when you get back, recover your strength soon, and don’t make This Palace worry anymore.”
As Xue Yunyi’s hand lifted from his head, a shadow dimmed Wu Lang’s eyes. He lowered his gaze, reluctance plain in the gesture.
“Yes. This slave will remember Your Highness’s teachings.”
Wu Lang felt lightheaded as he left the bedchamber. He had spent nearly half an hour alone with the Eldest Princess—no one else, just the two of them.
The Eldest Princess had ordered him to strip. He had knelt before her utterly bare, letting her see every inch of him.
She had punished him in anger. But Wu Lang knew she was only upset that he had hidden his wound and failed to care for his body properly.
The ebony ruler had felt cold and heavy in her hand, but its strikes had been feather-light. A fleeting sting, and now there wasn’t even a mark left.
As for those two pearls—
He hadn’t dared remove them himself before. Though they pained him a little, they had helped him restrain himself. For one thing, he wouldn’t have to trouble Zhao Xi so often. For another, the meals from the small kitchen arrived too lavish every day. He had to fight temptation constantly just to keep from growing plump. He’d never tasted food so clean and appetizing before—letting go would have been all too easy. He feared putting on unsightly flesh. What if the Eldest Princess ever deigned to favor him, only to lose interest while toying with his body?
They were badges of shame, symbols of his lowly birth and ruined past.
Yet when the Eldest Princess had seen them moments ago, her eyes held only heartache—no trace of revulsion. She had even removed them herself, with gentle hands.
Such benevolence was something he had only ever dreamed of in secret.
Wu Lang pressed his lips together. Unbidden, memories flooded his mind: every instant spent with the Eldest Princess. The faint furrow of her brows in concern, the tenderness of her touch. Her fragrance, the sway of her skirts, the soft rustle of pages turning beneath her fingers.
Everything about her.
Only when the stone steps of the side room came into view did Wu Lang pull himself from his reverie.
Liu Yin was pacing anxiously back and forth inside the room. The moment she saw Wu Lang return, she rushed forward, her eyes scanning the face Wu Hanyu had struck. Most of the marks had faded already, and she let out a breath of relief. “This is all my fault for being so careless today,” she said apologetically. “I never imagined that Wu young master would have the nerve to barge into Your Highness’s quarters.”
With that, she drew a medicine bottle from the warmth of her bosom and offered it to him. “I got this swelling salve from Sister Qiu He. She served in Ninghua Palace before and always keeps some on hand. They say it works wonders.”
Wu Lang stood silently in the doorway, flustered by this unexpected kindness.
Liu Yin’s eyes shone with sincerity as she extended the bottle again. “Go on, take it. Your face is the most delicate part of you—it needs proper care.”
“. . . No need. Your Highness already gave me some medicine just now. It’s . . . much better already.”
It was probably the longest thing Wu Lang had ever said to anyone besides Xue Yunyi.
“Oh—” Liu Yin drew out the syllable, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I forgot. With Your Highness looking after you, what need is there for my concern?”
A faint blush colored Wu Lang’s cheeks.
Just then, Zhao Xi came dashing into the room. He doubled over at the threshold, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. Liu Yin twisted to tease him. “I’ve told you to eat less. Carrying that big belly around, no wonder you’re winded after a few steps.”
Zhao Xi shot her a glare but lacked the breath to snap back. He mopped sweat from his brow and thrust the item clutched in his fist toward Wu Lang. “Here you go—I got this from my godfather. He swears it’s the best for swelling. Slather it on thick, wait an hour, and it’ll be like it never happened.”
Once he’d caught his breath, he couldn’t hold back a curse. “That Wu young master has no manners at all. Leaving that aside, isn’t he supposed to be your own brother?”
Liu Yin spat in agreement. “Exactly! That bastard looks human but acts like a dog, with a brain full of pig shit or dog turds. Daring to bully one of Your Highness’s people—he must be tired of living.”
The two of them traded barbs, cursing Wu Hanyu up one side and down the other. Liu Yin snatched the bottle from Zhao Xi’s hand, uncorked it for a sniff, and wrinkled her nose. “Tsk, your godfather’s salve isn’t half as good as mine. Take it back and keep it for yourself. The medicine from Your Highness is the best, isn’t it?”
She shot Wu Lang a cheeky grin.
Wu Lang was still reeling from her colorful description of Wu Hanyu’s intellect, but a strange sense of satisfaction bloomed inside him.
The palace servants of Azure Cypress Palace were actually standing up for him?
These past days, Liu Yin and Zhao Xi—and Chun Yu too—had tended to him, kept him company, even sat down for idle chatter now and then. They were only following the Eldest Princess’s orders, of course. But Wu Lang could feel it: they didn’t treat him like some filthy slave.
At the very least, in this little side room, everyone was equal.
They were nothing like the servants in Ninghua Palace. Those wore green palace robes and came in all shapes and sizes, but beneath the skin, every face was the same—the face of a demon, Xue Qingzhi’s face. Invoke her name, and anyone could heap abuse on him: mockery, humiliation, degradation without restraint.
Warm sunlight now poured through the open door, filling the room with brightness. Liu Yin must have said something provoking, for Zhao Xi flushed with fury and lunged after her. She stuck out her tongue and scampered giggling down the steps—right into the path of Chun Yu, who was entering with her head bowed.
The medicine bottle tumbled to the ground. Chun Yu stooped to retrieve it, then hesitated and slipped the two hot eggs she’d been holding into her sleeve. She had meant to offer them to Wu Lang for his face, but it seemed they wouldn’t be needed after all.
Hearing the commotion, Wu Lang turned. He caught the whole scene. His fingers clenched tight, a rush of warmth flooding his chest. His throat tightened, leaving him speechless.
Liu Yin had sharp eyes. She glanced at Wu Lang, then at the bulge in Chun Yu’s sleeve, and laughed as she tugged her arm to fish out the pair of steaming eggs. “Good sister, how did you know I was craving these? I haven’t had any in days. Whew, hot, hot! Peel them for me, won’t you?”
Zhao Xi seized the opening to jeer. “Can’t even peel your own egg? So delicate, milady!”
Chun Yu ducked her head bashfully and stationed herself by the table. While the other two bickered, she swiftly peeled the eggs. She handed one to Liu Yin and offered the other quite naturally to Wu Lang at her side.
Wu Lang hesitated a moment, then accepted it. The warmth of the egg seeped into his palm, suffusing his whole body with comfort.
“. . . Thank you.”
He murmured his thanks to Chun Yu—and, by extension, to Liu Yin and Zhao Xi.
The others had duties to attend to. After a bit more laughter and banter, they went their separate ways.
Wu Lang lay down on the bed as usual to rest.
His cheeks still felt tacky with ointment residue. Quietly, he decided to skip washing his face before bed tonight; he would clean up tomorrow.
With the door firmly shut, he closed his eyes. Yet he could almost feel the spring sunlight and warmth, the tree shadows dancing lightly in the breeze.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
In his dreams, no one wielded a vine whip to lash him till he bled. No one gripped his throat, sneering as they called him a wanton slut.
There was only a courtyard full of white magnolias, serene and gentle.
Marquis of Pingkang’s Residence.
Wu Hanyu seethed with rage. The moment he passed through the gates, he shoved away the servant boy rushing to support him. Clutching his sore backside where the board had struck, he stormed toward the marquis’s study.
“Dad, your son suffered a huge injustice in the palace today! You have to stand up for me!” He burst through the door, his mouth twisting into a pout.
The Marquis of Pingkang, Wu Zhuo, stood by the window, stooped over a newly acquired colorful parrot. He tsked in irritation and waved Wu Hanyu to silence.
“What are you hollering about? This little fellow cost me a fortune—it’s far too precious to frighten.”
Wu Hanyu could barely contain himself. He marched forward, snatched up the bird cage, and slammed it onto the desk. “Dad! What time is it, and you’re still fussing over that damn parrot? Do you have any idea that bastard Wu Lang got me caned thirty times today? I nearly lost all face!”
Wu Zhuo lunged to cradle the cage protectively in his arms.
“What happened?” He cooed at the parrot inside while halfheartedly addressing his son.
“Do you know why the Second Princess has been so cold to our Wu family lately—why she won’t even mention the marquisate? It’s all because of Wu Lang. Somehow he pissed her off and got himself thrown out, and now she’s taking it out on us.” Wu Hanyu spat the words venomously. “That bastard’s cozied up to the Eldest Princess now, living it up at her side. All I did was give him a couple slaps today, and she flew into a rage over it. I lost every shred of dignity!”
Wu Hanyu grew angrier the more he spoke.
“This ungrateful wretch only has himself in mind—he doesn’t give a damn about the Wu family. If we’d known it would come to this, you should have strangled him as a baby back then and let him follow that lowly mother of his to the grave.”
Only then did Wu Zhuo glance his way. “That was your mother’s doing while she was still alive. Why take it out on me? I’ve treated you well enough as it is—don’t push your luck.”
Back then, Rong Niang had traded her life to let Wu Lang remain in the Marquis of Pingkang’s Residence as a bastard son. Yet Wu Zhuo had gone behind Madam Wu’s back and never added Wu Lang’s name to the Wu family register.
From the very start, he had never acknowledged the boy as his son.
He had liked Rong Niang, true enough. But in the end, she had been nothing more than a lowly plaything for his amusement. The son she bore was no different—cursed with the same cheap, ill-omened fate.
Wu Hanyu huffed in indignation. “The Eldest Princess has issued a strict order: from now on, this son isn’t to set foot within half a step of Azure Cypress Palace. If the Eldest Princess truly becomes the Crown Princess one day, I shudder to think how many good days the Wu family has left.”
Wu Zhuo dismissed it with a wave. “Haven’t you heard? There’s a massive drought in Lang Province. The Second Princess read the sovereign’s will perfectly and offered up a brilliant strategy for His Majesty. He’s over the moon about it—the whole palace is buzzing. Since the Eldest Princess’s path is completely blocked, we might as well shift our hopes back to the Second Princess.”
He paused, shooting Wu Hanyu a sidelong glance. “I was out drinking and chatting with some friends today, and word is the Second Princess has been sending people to Hidden Spring Tower these past few days to buy up a bunch of pretty young slaves.”
Wu Hanyu’s eyes lit up.
He had been so busy preparing apology gifts for Xue Yunyi that he hadn’t kept up with the gossip. Thanks to Consort Jiang’s influence, the Emperor already favored the Second Princess a bit more. Now that she had earned merit too, even someone as dense as him could see whose the Crown Princess position would be.
“Thanks for the tip, Father. This son will head to Hidden Spring Tower right away.” Wu Hanyu grinned from ear to ear. “And on the way, I’ll pick up an even prettier parrot for you.”
That morning, after Xue Yunyi finished washing up, she sat quietly at her vanity as usual, waiting for Mo Ying to comb her hair.
Mo Ying approached and gently smoothed out her cascade of raven-black tresses while chatting about the bits of palace gossip she’d picked up, just to keep her mistress entertained.
Xue Yunyi wasn’t in the mood to listen, but since Mo Ying was so animated, she didn’t interrupt.
As Mo Ying twisted her hair into an elegant updo, she suddenly remembered something and leaned in closer. “Your Highness, this servant heard that a few days ago, Wu Hanyu sent over a dozen handsome young lads he’d bought from outside to Ninghua Palace. Seems he really won the Second Princess over—she showered him with silver rewards.”
Xue Yunyi’s expression remained impassive; she wasn’t surprised. After she’d humiliated Wu Hanyu so publicly that day, it was only natural for a weather vane like him to pivot his ambitions back to Xue Qingzhi.
Then Mo Ying lowered her voice even further. “Yesterday, this servant saw with her own eyes a dead body being carried out of the Second Princess’s palace. I slipped some silver to the guards at the gate, and they said… the Second Princess has been in a foul mood lately, so her methods have been a bit harsh. The poor young slave was too frail and just couldn’t take it.”
Xue Yunyi looked up in shock. She hadn’t expected Xue Qingzhi to go that far—to cause a death over something as frivolous as bedroom games.
She gazed into the bronze mirror as Mo Ying slowly inserted a lustrous, translucent emerald hairpin into her hair.
After a brief silence, she asked, “Does Father Emperor know about this?”
Mo Ying thought for a moment and shook her head. “Even if His Majesty knows, he probably won’t hold the Second Princess accountable. It’s only some slave bought from outside the palace, after all, and she’s always been spoiled rotten. What’s one dead nobody?”
Having uttered the word “dead” twice, Mo Ying felt a chill of bad luck and fell silent.
Xue Yunyi lowered her eyes without a word. After breakfast, she picked up the history miscellany she hadn’t finished the night before, hesitated, then set it down. She instructed Mo Ying to wheel her to Wu Lang’s room.
The door slid open. Zhao Xi was standing by the bed, applying medicine to Wu Lang’s back. When he saw Xue Yunyi enter, he dropped to his knees at once to pay his respects.
With Zhao Xi out of the way, Xue Yunyi’s gaze fell immediately on the youth kneeling on the bed with his back to her. Her expression shifted.
After all these days of care, the whip marks on his back had mostly healed. To prevent scarring, she had specially sent someone to the Imperial Hospital for the precious Hibiscus Ointment.
Now, that expanse of bare skin gleamed with the emollient under the sunlight, accentuating the delicate lines of his slender shoulder blades. His lean back muscles, thin yet taut, shimmered with an enticing sheen.
Lower still was a narrow, toned waist, loosely cinched with a white silk cord that held up his trousers—making that waist look all the more tantalizing.
Xue Yunyi had not expected to walk in on such a seductive sight. For a moment, she was entranced.
Only when Wu Lang started to slide off the bed to bow did her eyes refocus. She gestured for Mo Ying to wheel her forward.
Zhao Xi tactfully withdrew, leaving the rest of the Hibiscus Ointment on the table.
Xue Yunyi spoke up in time to stop the youth from getting down. Composing herself, she asked, “Are you feeling better? Did you use the ointment Liu Yin brought you last time?”
It was a special salve she had privately obtained from Judge Wu for injuries to more intimate areas. Judge Wu had given her any number of strange looks over it.
“In response to Your Highness, this slave… has used it. It’s almost healed. Thank you for the medicine, Your Highness.”
Xue Yunyi usually visited in the afternoon. Her early arrival today caught Wu Lang off guard. He tried to turn around to answer her properly, but her palm hovered lightly against his waist, holding him in place.
“Don’t move. Haven’t you finished applying the medicine yet?” Xue Yunyi said softly.
She picked up the Hibiscus Ointment at hand, scooped some onto her fingertip, and spread it over the patches of his back that were still bare.
Wu Lang’s body went rigid in an instant.
The familiar medicinal effect surged through him with her touch. In mere moments, it overwhelmed him.
He didn’t know why this kept happening. It had been the same last time when she was measuring him for clothes. Whenever the Eldest Princess’s hand made contact with his body, he just… he…
Wu Lang glanced down at the unmistakable evidence between his legs.
Just then, her gentle voice came from behind him.
“All done. Now turn around.”