Chapter 76#

Playing a Part: Young Pei in Shang’en Prefecture (16)#

When Yu Shaoyun followed Zong Suiyang into the Baimei Fang, You Zong entered the rear corridor as well. But before he could approach the room, he sensed someone inside Xianyin’s chamber, forcing him to abandon his plan to enter and instead observe from a distance.

Xianyin had come down from the private room upstairs, moving carefully to avoid drawing attention. The person in the room was likely a cult member of higher status—most likely that Immortal Envoy Huo.

The next day was rainy. The carriage stopped in front of Baimei Fang, and a waiter held an umbrella to shield Yuan Fang as he stepped forward.

Yuan Fang pushed open the carriage door and helped Pei Xiting down.

“Gentlemen, welcome.” The madam smiled as she greeted them, leading them inside. She turned sideways as she walked. “Miss Xianyin said you two are honored guests, so she’s reserved a private room in the back courtyard for your use. It’s secluded, so you won’t be disturbed if you need to talk or do business.”

“You’re too kind.” Pei Xiting walked side by side with Yuan Fang into the room. After they sat down, he said, “I wonder what business Miss Xianyin has with me today?”

“It must be something important, but we’ll have to wait for her to arrive to know the specifics.” Madam Liu poured tea for both of them and smiled. “Please make yourselves comfortable. I’ll go attend to guests out front. Miss Xianyin will be here shortly.”

Pei Xiting nodded and took a sip of tea.

Madam Liu gently closed the door. Yuan Fang reached over and put an arm around Pei Xiting’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear: “There’s a gap in the window on the left.”

That was the camera position. Pei Xiting smiled and whispered back, “Put on a good performance when the time comes.”

“You’re the lead.” Yuan Fang patted Pei Xiting’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

“It’s all acting—what’s there to be lucky about?” Pei Xiting looked at Yuan Fang with confusion. Yuan Fang was about to say something when his eyes sharpened and he barked, “Who’s there!”

The door blew open with the wind. Yuan Fang darted out, leaving Pei Xiting alone. Pei Xiting turned to face the wide-open door and instinctively moved to follow—only to have a figure appear right in front of him the moment he stepped over the threshold.

A familiar face came into view. Pei Xiting’s expression shifted dramatically, and he stepped back in shock. He seemed terrified to the point of speechlessness, his lips trembling soundlessly as he shook his head in disbelief, staring at the nightmare that had descended upon him without warning.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Zong Suiyang stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him with one hand. He advanced step by step, forcing Pei Xiting backward. With a loud crash, Pei Xiting’s shin knocked over a stool, and he fell to the ground.

Zong Suiyang frowned, then abruptly reached out, hooked an arm around Pei Xiting’s waist, twisted him around, and pressed him against the table. The tea tray clattered to the floor. Taking advantage of the moment, he leaned close to Pei Xiting’s ear and whispered, “Did you hurt yourself falling?”

Pei Xiting made a show of struggling, but Zong Suiyang pinned his hands behind his back and gripped his throat. Pei Xiting tilted his head up and murmured, “We have to make the act convincing.”

That meant yes, he did hurt himself. Zong Suiyang reached under the right slit of Pei Xiting’s robe, slid his hand up his thigh to his buttock, and gently massaged it, testing the spot. “Here?”

When that large hand touched him, Pei Xiting instinctively jerked upward, but Zong Suiyang easily pressed him back down. His ears burning, Pei Xiting realized the Crown Prince was alarmingly dedicated to the role. He gritted his teeth and muttered, “Don’t take the chance to molest me.”

“I assumed you came prepared.” Zong Suiyang continued rubbing the sore spot, his gaze flickering. He turned his head and brushed his cheek against Pei Xiting’s ear. “Your audience has arrived, Xiting. Give it your best.”

Pei Xiting suddenly remembered that dangerous yet beautiful smile Zong Suiyang had worn the night before. He suspected the man was settling a private score—demanding payment for that “Dad” remark. A chill ran through him, but before he could deliver his line, a sharp slap landed on his buttock.

The dull thud of flesh hitting flesh leaked through the crack in the window. Immortal Envoy Huo held his breath, standing outside the rear window, his gaze piercing through the gap and past the side of the folding screen, landing on that round table. From this angle, he could only see the profiles of Zong Suiyang and Pei Xiting. Their lower bodies were pressed together, so intimate.

“I never imagined you’d dare leave Yeijing on your own—and elope with some wild man, no less.” Zong Suiyang’s tone was casual, his words unhurried as he delivered his lines. But his hand was rough, kneading the flesh beneath his palm. “Xiting, you never cease to surprise me.”

Pei Xiting was burning all over, but he had to stay in character. He shook his head and protested, “I didn’t! I didn’t! Your Highness must be mistaken!”

“Mistaken? Even now you refuse to confess. It seems I’ve indulged you too much, emboldened you far beyond your station.” Worried that Pei Xiting might be uncomfortable in this position for too long, Zong Suiyang forcefully turned him around. Then, thinking the hard table would be unpleasant no matter how he twisted, he simply pulled Pei Xiting upright and pushed him a few steps toward the bed.

Pei Xiting tumbled onto the mattress, struggled to his knees, and tried to turn over—but his belt was yanked off before he could. His plain white undergarment came loose, revealing his slender, pale back and waist as he struggled.

He cried out as a hand pressed down on his shoulder, shoving his face into the bedding. Slaps landed on his lower back. Pei Xiting’s grip on the quilt tightened as he pleaded pitifully, but the hand showed no mercy. Each subsequent blow landed squarely on his buttocks.

This damn dog was doing it on purpose. But Pei Xiting was mortified to realize he was reacting—far too quickly.

A young person’s arousal couldn’t be hidden for long. Zong Suiyang leaned down, turned his head, and brushed his nose against Pei Xiting’s burning cheek. “You like it when I treat you like this?”

There was a hint of amusement in his tone, and it sounded unbearably pleasant. Pei Xiting turned his face slightly, gazing at him with infatuation.

“I do…” Pei Xiting didn’t deny it. He rubbed back against Zong Suiyang’s nose and cheek, his eyes half-lidded and already moist.

Suddenly, his earlobe stung as Zong Suiyang bit down. The force wasn’t particularly gentle. Pei Xiting grunted in pain and reached out to grab Zong Suiyang’s sleeve. Zong Suiyang ignored him. Even after tasting blood, he didn’t let go, sucking gently with warm lips.

“Don’t bite…” Pei Xiting’s words were cut off as if something had seized his throat. He collapsed forward, his forehead rubbing against the quilt as fire spread across his back, from his neck to his lower back, flushed a deep red.

The fire leaped to Zong Suiyang. His palm seemed to grip a red-hot iron, but he didn’t let go—instead, he tightened his hold.

Pei Xiting felt as if he had fallen into a cloud, his whole body soft and limp. Even when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t make out the embroidery on the quilt, just a blur of crimson. He panted, cried out, and blindly reached out one hand.

Zong Suiyang caught his hand, covering it with his own, palm over palm, restraining and dominating, yet somehow comforting.

Immortal Envoy Huo watched unblinkingly at the scene by the bed curtain. He saw Pei Xiting’s calf rub restlessly against the edge of the bed, and just as it seemed about to slip off, a hand reached out and grasped it, making the legs kneel properly again—trembling, shaking… until finally, the legs twitched violently twice and went limp.

“Your Highness, spare me…” Pei Xiting’s face was flushed. Dazedly, he kissed the fingers Zong Suiyang was rubbing over his lips, his brows slightly furrowed. He opened his eyes, and his plea wasn’t an act—he truly couldn’t take it anymore.

Zong Suiyang couldn’t bear that look either. He reached out and stroked Pei Xiting’s face, his touch tender, but his tone dangerous. “How do you want me to spare you?”

“I won’t do it again, I won’t run anymore…” Pei Xiting kissed the tips of Zong Suiyang’s fingers, his gaze pitiful. He said he’d never dare make Zong Suiyang call him “Dad” again.

Zong Suiyang let out a short laugh, but his words were ruthless. “Take off your pants.”

“What is Your Highness doing?” Pei Xiting shook his head, his voice pained and tearful. “I truly won’t do it again. Please, forgive me just this once…”

Zong Suiyang wiped the white stain from those ruddy lips, his tone hardening. “You’ve been out here alone with some wild man for days, night and day in each other’s company. What do you think I’m going to do?”

The Crown Prince’s acting was impressive. Pei Xiting could actually detect a chilling murderous intent. He quickly said, “I haven’t done anything improper with him. Please believe me, Your Highness. Don’t humiliate me like this…”

Zong Suiyang said nothing. Pei Xiting saw his hesitation and coached quietly, “Hurry up and curse me.”

Words like “slut” or “can’t live without a man”—even harsher ones—Zong Suiyang couldn’t bring himself to say them, and certainly not to Pei Xiting. He reached out and rubbed Pei Xiting’s lips gently. “I won’t curse.”

So the Crown Prince wasn’t good at dirty talk. But Director Pei was strict. “Then we’re missing the atmosphere!”

Zong Suiyang said, “I can’t.”

Pei Xiting’s voice suddenly turned shrill, carrying out along with the sound of tearing fabric. Immortal Envoy Huo’s grip on the windowsill had long gone white. He listened as Pei Xiting struggled desperately, unable to resist, screamed for mercy. Then the Prince must have examined what he wanted to see and disliked the result—because from the bed curtains came the sharp crack of slaps, mixed with tearful moans, ambiguous and obscene. The last one was particularly loud, but laced with desire, so much that it stirred the blood just hearing it.

Pei Xiting had said he didn’t want to be humiliated by the Prince, but his body had clearly been tamed… The slut.

The gaze fixed on them grew more resentful. Zong Suiyang’s brows twitched slightly. He gently squeezed the red, hot flesh in his hand, staring at Pei Xiting’s heaving chest, and smiled. “Can’t take it anymore? Xiting, we fit so perfectly. You were born to be…”

He leaned down and whispered a word in Pei Xiting’s ear, hot breath warming it. He meant it.

Pei Xiting trembled all over, instinctively rubbing his nose against Zong Suiyang’s face. He murmured, “Your robe is dirty…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zong Suiyang said, looking at him from the side. “You’ll owe me a new set later.”

Pei Xiting was happy to agree, but said, “It’s your fault.”

“You were the one who was impulsive and impatient. How can you blame me?” Zong Suiyang said.

Pei Xiting had no retort. “It was my first time with someone else… I’ve always done it myself before. It feels different.”

His eyes were bright, staring straight at Zong Suiyang, a little shy as he said, “And your hands feel really good.”

Even his shyness couldn’t stop the filth coming out of his mouth. Zong Suiyang squeezed harder, making Pei Xiting cry out without warning. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Seems you do enjoy it.”

Pei Xiting, having been verbally skewered, opened his mouth to bite Zong Suiyang’s face, but Zong Suiyang dodged.

Pei Xiting frowned in displeasure, about to throw a tantrum. Only then did Zong Suiyang seem reluctant as he leaned in, letting Pei Xiting bite him once, giving him what he wanted.

Pei Xiting rubbed against his cheek and moved to kiss downward, but Zong Suiyang pressed his nose against Pei Xiting’s lips. Pei Xiting blinked. “What?”

“According to the script, we can’t kiss.” Zong Suiyang said.

The Crown Prince truly wouldn’t kiss the little plaything he kept. Pei Xiting laughed. “You’re really strict. But you didn’t follow the script completely either. I told you to curse me, but you didn’t. You didn’t hit me either. You ate up all the essential parts of this scene.”

Zong Suiyang had indeed taken the chance to settle a private score, planning to give this little fox a thorough lesson. But beating and cursing were going too far. He reached out, pulled Pei Xiting’s pants up to his waist, and said, “Your belt is inlaid with jade pieces. If I hit you with that, you’d really suffer. We’re just playing a part—why go that far?”

Pei Xiting said, “But when you hit me just now, you didn’t hold back at all.”

“Would you have stopped crying if I didn’t hit you? But you kept crying and crying.” Zong Suiyang looked at Pei Xiting’s face, which was shifting from embarrassment to anger. He smiled, brushed his nose against Pei Xiting’s lips, and suddenly asked, “Does it taste fishy?”

Pei Xiting’s eyes burned. “It’s my own stuff. I’m not disgusted.”

Zong Suiyang smiled again. “Does it taste fishy?”

Pei Xiting licked his lips and muttered, “A little… but I can handle it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Zong Suiyang’s gaze deepened.

Pei Xiting shot back, “And what do you mean by that?”

They understood each other perfectly, their words filthy with implication. Zong Suiyang’s gaze darkened. He reached out and pressed on Pei Xiting’s lips. “You’re asking for death.”

“You wouldn’t really kill me.” Pei Xiting took the chance to lean up and kiss Zong Suiyang on the nose, grinning. “Even if you did kill me, it wouldn’t matter. Dying under a beauty—I’d be a lusty ghost in the next life, and I’d haunt you night and day.”

The door crashed open. Zong Suiyang’s dark eyes were still fixed on Pei Xiting. Pei Xiting’s eyes flared, and he turned his head slightly, avoiding his gaze. He saw Yuan Fang lying on the ground.

Immortal Envoy Huo leaned back slightly, hearing Pei Xiting’s frightened cry. Two legs kicked violently, but they were still pinned by the Prince, unable to escape.

Yu Shaoyun wiped his blade as he stood in the doorway. “Your Highness, how shall we deal this scoundrel?”

“He’s not a scoundrel! Your Highness, I was wrong, I was wrong. I’ll go back with you, I swear I’ll never run again. Please spare him. I’ll do anything you say, I beg you…”

Pei Xiting reached out and grabbed Zong Suiyang’s wrist, pleading desperately. Zong Suiyang looked at his face, streaked with tears like pear blossoms in the rain. Something pricked his heart—not just pity, but also jealousy, even though this whole scene of eloping with a wild man and begging for his life at death’s door was fake.

“You can’t even save yourself, yet you plead for him—truly… deep in your feelings. Fine,” Zong Suiyang said. “I can spare his life.”

Joy flickered in Pei Xiting’s eyes, and he was about to thank the Prince, but Zong Suiyang continued in a gentle tone, “You two are so devoted to each other. I’m happy to accommodate you. Why don’t I take him back to the Eastern Palace? Let him stay in your quarters as a personal attendant. What do you think?”

Only four kinds of people could reside permanently in the Eastern Palace: the master, his aides, guards, and servants. Since Pei Xiting belonged to the Crown Prince, no other man could serve him closely unless he was a eunuch.

The Crown Prince meant to geld the lover. Immortal Envoy Huo’s eyelids twitched as he heard Pei Xiting begin to sob uncontrollably, begging the Prince for mercy in a broken voice.

Fool, Immortal Envoy Huo thought. The more she begs, the less the Prince will forgive. She doesn’t even understand such basic logic. But it’s fine this way—humiliated, her lover castrated, Pei Xiting will hate the Prince even more. The deeper the hatred, the sharper the blade.

The Prince paid no heed to Pei Xiting’s pleas. He waved his sleeve, and Yu Shaoyun swiftly approached Chen Shi’an, driving his blade down toward the man’s groin. Blood spurted out. Chen Shi’an screamed in agony before the excruciating pain knocked him unconscious.

“Fang ge!” Pei Xiting shrieked. With strength he didn’t know he had, he shoved the Prince aside, rolled off the bed, and threw himself onto his lover, wailing as if pouring out all his pain—so heart-wrenchingly that it raised goosebumps all over.

Immortal Envoy Huo watched the man kneeling on the ground, weeping, unsure whether to feel sorry or respectful. Daring to cuckold the Crown Prince—such a fate was only to be expected.

The Prince walked up behind Pei Xiting, looking down at his wretched state. Then he abruptly grabbed Pei Xiting, yanked him up, and shoved him out of the room. Pei Xiting turned to reach for the man on the ground, but the Prince struck him unconscious with a single palm blow, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and left the premises.

Yu Shaoyun roughly carried the man on the ground. A guard then brought a basin of water to wash away the blood, left a pouch of silver, turned, and quickly departed.

Immortal Envoy Huo stood outside the window for a moment before circling around to the door and entering. He didn’t mind the dirty floor; he stepped through the bloody water to the round table, then walked to the bed. He stared at it for a long time without moving.

Finally, Xianyin entered and whispered, “The Prince took the man back to the carriage and left. How do we explain this to Pei Xiting later?”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll make up some excuse. He’s already blinded by hatred. Compared to investigating what happened today, allying with us to kill the Prince is far more urgent.” Immortal Envoy Huo’s gaze was gloomy. “I didn’t expect the Prince to be so fixated on Pei Xiting.”

“In the Eastern Palace, birds only fly out on the Prince’s permission. They don’t dare fly out on their own.” Xianyin said. “It’s just that one.”

“But there are so many birds in the world—how many can enter the Eastern Palace?” Immortal Envoy Huo said. “Love and desire are one. Where there is love, there must be desire. Desire doesn’t always lead to love, but at least it shows they fit together perfectly. Otherwise, given the Prince’s status and temperament, he could have sent killers to hunt them to the ends of the earth with just one word. Why come personally?”

Xianyin glanced at Immortal Envoy Huo but said nothing.

Zong Suiyang carried Pei Xiting onto the carriage and set him on the main seat. Pei Xiting immediately scrambled upright and wiped his face.

Zong Suiyang, seeing him not sitting properly, asked, “Does it hurt?”

“If I slap you, will it hurt?” Pei Xiting rubbed his butt and glared at Zong Suiyang. “You settled a personal score. I’ll remember this.”

“You’re something else,” Zong Suiyang said.

“What about me?” Pei Xiting raised an eyebrow. “Say it clearly if you’ve got the guts.”

“Enjoyed it when it was happening, but now you’re complaining as if you’ve been wronged,” Zong Suiyang said.

Pei Xiting said nothing, but his eyes knocked and pounded against Zong Suiyang’s forehead. Zong Suiyang let him glare for a while, then suddenly reached out and patted his lower back. “Does it really hurt?”

This time, Pei Xiting didn’t complain. He rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Not much.”

Pei Xiting was thin, with a bit of flesh only in that place. After the beating, it looked like a ripe peach. Zong Suiyang pressed his lips together, his gaze turning heavy as he looked at Pei Xiting. Pei Xiting seemed to sense it, glancing away to avoid meeting his eyes.

Zong Suiyang was slightly displeased.

The carriage paused. The door opened, and You Zong quickly climbed in and sat on the other side.

Noticing the Crown Prince wasn’t in the main seat, You Zong paused, then turned his head toward the opposite side. “Xianyin’s room does have a hidden chamber. Following the secret passage straight, there are two forks. The left path leads to a door that’s closed with a mechanism. I didn’t dare touch it, but based on distance and orientation, it’s definitely the Li residence. The right path leads to a courtyard; I’ve already sent people to the area around it.”

Zong Suiyang took out a blanket and handed it to Pei Xiting. “Move again tonight.”

You Zong nodded, then turned to see Pei Xiting wrapped in the blanket on the main seat, still mumbling something unintelligible. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” Zong Suiyang reached out and poked Pei Xiting’s cheek. “Commander You is asking you.”

“I’m having a fit. Poke me again and I’ll bite you.” Pei Xiting glared at Zong Suiyang, then turned to You Zong with a much friendlier tone. “Sir, your dark circles look like earthworms.”

“It’s fine. Once this matter is settled, I’ll rest for a day.” You Zong said. “When we traveled before, sometimes we’d be chased for over ten days without proper sleep. A quick nap counted as rest. Compared to those days, being busy now is nothing.”

Pei Xiting glanced at Zong Suiyang. “Sir, what was His Highness like back then?”

You Zong smiled warmly. “He was just a teenager, naturally more immature.”

“I’ve never seen that.” Pei Xiting tugged at Zong Suiyang’s sleeve. “Hey, act young for me.”

Zong Suiyang looked at him. “Do you want a slap?”

“Huh?” Pei Xiting deliberately misinterpreted, looking coy. “In front of Commander You? How embarrassing. Your Highness has no shame at all.”

You Zong: “…”

Zong Suiyang: “…”

Zong Suiyang shook his head, reached out, and ruffled Pei Xiting’s hair. “It’s raining today. Don’t go running around outside. Rest at the inn for half a day. Once everything here is settled, we’ll return to Yeijing.”

Pei Xiting obediently agreed. When they returned, he changed into comfortable clothes, just draping a robe over himself, and sat by the window teaching the young imperial grandson to paint the rain.

Zong Lu’s problem was the same as Zong Suiyang’s—his heart was bound, not open enough, making his brushstrokes a bit stiff. But he was far more clear and pure than Zong Suiyang.

“The autumn rain is bleak, passersby hurry, eaves drip, the sky darkens—but trees sway, passersby smile, wind chimes tinkle under the eaves. Even when the scenery is still, there’s life moving within it.” Pei Xiting held Zong Lu’s hand and said softly, “No matter if you’re writing or painting, hold the brush straight and steady. Relax your shoulders. Don’t hold tension.”

Zong Lu stared at the marks left by the brush. “Secretary Pei is the first person to hold my hand and teach me to write and paint. All these years, the one with a knot in his heart wasn’t me—it was Fifth Uncle.”

Pei Xiting said, “You’re the one precious treasure Prince Yuanhe left to His Highness. The Crown Prince cherishes you, so he dares not get too close. Perhaps only when you’re asleep does he dare gaze at you secretly, quietly marveling at how much taller you’ve grown since last year.”

Pei Xiting let go of his hand. Zong Lu switched to a new brush and dipped it in ink, starting to paint the camellia on the street. “Will Secretary Pei become my Fifth Aunt?”

“I’d like to.” Pei Xiting smiled. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“If Secretary Pei doesn’t, then no one in the world will.” Zong Lu was young but perceptive. “Fifth Uncle is taciturn and cold, his thoughts deep. Understanding him takes effort; seeing through him takes great effort. But he’s already revealed a lot—at least when it comes to matters involving Secretary Pei, Fifth Uncle is easy to read.”

He turned his head to look at Pei Xiting. “Secretary Pei, right now, between you and Fifth Uncle, all that’s missing is a catalyst—one that will make him break through his chains and run to you.”