Chapter 2#

Assistant Minister Yu was a civil official, introverted and deep. In bed, Huarong behaved with seventy percent quietness and thirty percent wildness.

This thing was actually similar to roasting meat; how rare or well-done it should be depended most importantly on the guest’s preference.

It was inconvenient to have a splint while doing things, so Huarong removed the bandage beforehand, only keeping his right hand slightly suspended.

He didn’t mind it himself, but the other party would understand how to cherish him. After the deed was done, Assistant Minister Yu personally bandaged him and even wrote a small poem next to the orchid.

Huarong was not interested in poetry; he only liked the fragrant tea on the Assistant Minister’s table, drinking the top-quality Da Hong Pao like an ox.

With no status or rank, plus loving money as much as life, such a Huarong did not make people feel vulgar, which was also a great skill.

Assistant Minister Yu looked at him from the side and sighed after a while: “I don’t know why, but I feel most relaxed and happy when I’m with you. All the tension is gone.”

Huarong turned to look at him, clearly pretending to understand.

“It’s really not easy to have a moment of relaxation now. Grand Tutor Han’s mood is unpredictable, and the Emperor can’t say two sentences in three days…” Assistant Minister Yu sighed again, a meaningless lament, not expecting Huarong to share his worries.

After lamenting, he took out a silver note. Huarong quickly gestured to say thank you.

He made this gesture very gracefully; his feelings were always most sincere when receiving payment.

Another five hundred taels earned in one evening. Huarong’s heart suddenly broadened, and he made an exception to take Huagui to Wangjiang Tower for dinner.

Wangjiang Tower was a very high-class place. The dishes were expensive and the plates were small. Huarong, dressed like a scallion as usual, ordered a table full of classic dishes like a nouveau riche.

Huagui’s voice was still as loud as ever: “You don’t need to gesture. I know rich people order dishes just to look at them. This time I definitely won’t eat myself to death trying to finish them.”

Their seat overlooked the river and was the best seat in Wangjiang Tower. Immediately, a refined scholar at the next table coughed to express dissatisfaction.

Huarong looked up and recognized the person as Minister Ding, so he quickly signaled Huagui to be quiet.

“Since you’re experiencing the life of the common people, yet you don’t allow people to speak, why bother coming here?” Someone else spoke from the side, two idle sentences, voice slightly raspy.

Minister Ding quickly cupped his hands: “What a blessing for these commoners to gaze at the moon over the river with Prince Funing.”

Prince Funing, Han Lang. As soon as this name was mentioned, the whole place fell silent, and everyone’s breathing weakened by thirty percent.

Han Lang turned back to look at the river surface, watching the bright moon coldly shining on the dead silent river water, experiencing the life of the common people amidst the fear and trepidation of the entire tower.

At this most inappropriate moment, Huarong actually made a sound, opening his folding fan with a ‘swish’.

Han Lang’s peripheral vision swept towards him. Minister Ding, trying to curry favor, quickly spoke up: “This is Huarong. I remember mentioning him to Your Highness before. He is…”

“He’s a pile of soft meat that can be put on a scale and sold for a certain amount of silver per catty.” Han Lang raised the corners of his lips, withdrawing his gaze from Huarong: “I have no interest in such goods.”

Minister Ding was embarrassed for a moment, and after an awkward pause, he said: “Your Highness is absolutely right. With Your Highness’s status, working hard for the country and sharing the Emperor’s worries…”

“Status?” Han Lang took over his words again, cold light flickering in his eyes: “Do you think this status is very good? Is it easy to be Prince Funing? As the saying goes, Fuchai was also a husband (fu), and accompanying a king is like accompanying a tiger. You try being me for a day.”

Sweat dripped down Minister Ding’s face. He chose his words with extreme caution: “Leaving aside other things, just Your Highness’s talent is extraordinary. The couplet you just started with is an absolute match; I’m afraid no one in the Hanlin Academy can match it.”

Before the flattery was finished, there was another sound in the hall. Huarong actually closed his fan with a “snap” at the most inappropriate moment again.

“Does this Young Master Hua mean you can match it?” Han Lang suddenly turned his head, looking at him with great amusement.

Mr. Scallion Huarong actually nodded. Not only did he nod, but he also stood up, opened his folding fan again, and took two very dashing steps forward.

Now even Huagui realized he was being tactless and stomped his foot behind him: “Reporting to Your Highness, my master can’t match couplets at all. He is a mute!”

“A mute may not necessarily be unable to write.” Han Lang replied very amiably, raising his hand towards somewhere.

Immediately, a swift-footed servant brought brush and ink.

Huarong held the brush very dashingly, moving the ink with his left hand, and finished writing in a moment.

Han Lang brought the paper to his eyes. As he looked, everyone’s heartbeats collectively stopped.

After reading it, Han Lang’s expression remained normal. He just pressed a slender finger against Huarong’s folding fan, lingering on the three words “Dian Qian Huan” (Joy Before the Palace).

“Dian Qian Huan.” He read slowly, each word colder than the last: “Before which palace do you receive joy, and who taught you to be so presumptuous!”

“Beat him!” Han Lang waved his hand as he got up to leave: “Beat him until he speaks!”

The piece of paper on the table disappeared immediately, tucked into Han Lang’s sleeve.

“Fuchai was also a husband (fu), accompanying a king is like accompanying a tiger. If Junrui is a gentleman (jun), why use a ladder to cross the wall?”

So it was written on the paper.

Fuchai was a king, Junrui was a thief. This Huarong’s gall was bigger than the sky, actually mocking Prince Han for stealing the country and being a thief.

Han Lang sneered all the way, but had to admit that he had begun to take an interest in that scallion-like soft meat.

“Beat him until his legs are broken.” Thinking of this, Han Lang suddenly stopped: “I forgot for a moment, beating a mute until he speaks is just beating him to death.”

=====================

Zou Qi was a nameless small vendor in the capital. The only business he knew was selling porridge in the morning.

And the time when his heart beat the fastest every day was when he served porridge to a special customer in the early morning.

This special customer was none other than the famous Prince Funing, Han Lang.

To this day, Zou Qi still clearly remembered the scene of their first meeting: he stared foolishly as the person finished eating, collected the money in a daze, and only recovered after a long time; afterwards, he told everyone he met that he had encountered a god-like figure.

He was so excited all day, dancing with joy as he introduced him, saying he was a very beautiful, noble, and celestial god.

Finally, others couldn’t bear it and warned him very carefully that the god in his heart was actually a big villain, a big bad guy named Han Lang.

So, Zou Qi was dumbfounded for another whole night. Until the next morning, when he set up his stall in a trance and saw the beautiful big bad guy again, hearing him say “Boss, a bowl of plain porridge,” only then did he realize that he didn’t care about what others said at all. In his heart, Han Lang was the best-looking god.

And from then on, the god-like bad guy patronized his business almost every day, practically rain or shine.

Slowly, he also grasped Han Lang’s routine.

Han Lang had two personal servants who also served as guards, one named Liunian and the other named Liuyun.

They took turns on duty, one day each.

Liunian would sit beside Han Lang and accompany him to eat porridge, while Liuyun would only stand behind Han Lang and wait.

Han Lang only ordered plain porridge, paired with the homemade pickles from his stall.

The common people who came to eat breakfast here would give up their seats when they saw this official coming. Some left sensibly, while others found a corner to watch and whisper.

Han Lang never greeted anyone warmly, nor did he order people to avoid him. He ate his breakfast slowly and methodically.

When paying the bill, he would also give extra silver based on the number of customers he had scared away.

Gradually, Zou Qi had fewer customers in the morning, but the silver Han Lang gave never decreased.

Today the weather was clear. He got up early and had just set up his stall when he heard someone ask: “Excuse me, which porridge is the cheapest here?”

“Plain porridge.” Zou Qi answered casually, glancing at a man whose clothes were a bit tattered but whose appearance was handsome.

“If it’s cheap, bring a few more bowls!”

Zou Qi looked at the sky; it was still early, so he busily invited the man to sit down.

However, the result was beyond his expectations…

“My Lord, this… the plain porridge has all been eaten by this young brother; how about I serve you a bowl of red bean sweet porridge?”

When Han Lang stood in front of the porridge shop with an ashen face, Zou Qi realized what had happened and could only reply with fear and trepidation.

Han Lang waved his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary. He sat down in front of the person who had snatched his breakfast, looked at him askance, and asked: “You are from out of town, right? What is your name?”

“I am from out of town.” The man didn’t even lift his head at first: “My name is Lin Luoyin.”

“Lin Luoyin…” Han Lang repeated, murmuring low, looking him up and down: “Good name. It must be hard work being away from home. do you usually use your left hand or right hand?”

Liuyun behind him sighed. Human life is really cheap, and Heaven has no eyes. If the master knows the answer, this Lin Luoyin will definitely not be able to keep one hand.

When he took over the shift last night, he heard Liunian say that the master was in a bad mood. And judging from past experience, the more the master liked to pretend to be thoughtful, the more he was being petty and calculating.

But getting blood on one’s hands early in the morning is always bad. He pondered and took a small step forward: “Master, it’s almost time for court. The Emperor is still waiting.”

Han Lang glared at him fiercely, returned to the sedan chair with regret, and deliberately sighed: “Forget it, let’s go.”

Even confidants have times when they don’t understand their master’s heart. When he asked that question just now, he didn’t intend to make things difficult for Lin Luoyin.

This person had a grand vision and high martial arts skills, and was accustomed to using a left-handed sword. This was the information he had gleaned from Lin Luoyin.

That question just now was merely a confirmation.

Prince Funing’s Study.

Liuyun knelt on a cushion beside the Go table in the corner of the study, concentrating on stacking the Go pieces. One after another, black and white alternating.

His master had been in a bad mood from the end of court until now because of a bowl of porridge.

“Your Highness, a man named Zou Qi asks to see you, saying… he’s delivering porridge to you.” Someone reported from outside the door.

After a long time, Liuyun finally saw his master smile.

Unexpectedly, the porridge stall owner was so thoughtful that he personally delivered porridge to the door afterwards; and there was actually someone willing to report it, which showed that he had given the servants a lot of benefits to get in.

After Han Lang ordered Zou Qi to come in, he didn’t wait for him to speak before saying: “I don’t eat outside food except in the morning.”

The originally enthusiastic Zou Qi was stunned after hearing this. He really is a bad guy afraid of being poisoned. And to think I’ve been worrying about the morning’s incident until now.

“Porridge boss, you spent a lot of silver to get in, right?” Han Lang rested his chin on his hand and glanced at the porridge, which was still steaming.

“Yes…” He was so nervous he couldn’t speak. He actually remembered his surname, really… his eyes felt a bit hot.

“Are you willing to stay and be a cook in my mansion? If you live in the Prince’s mansion and are only responsible for my breakfast, the treatment will definitely be better than before.” Han Lang fiddled with his fingers and made an offer.

Sitting in the corner, Liuyun lost his concentration and didn’t control his center of gravity well, causing the stacked chess pieces to scatter on the board. Indeed, he still held a grudge and was so petty.

“You can think about it, no rush.”

Zou Qi clenched his fist, took a step forward, and was just about to agree when he suddenly heard a wailing cry from outside the room: “Your Highness, you must uphold justice for us.”

The corners of Han Lang’s mouth slowly rose, forming a beautiful arc, “Porridge boss, look at what my official residence looks like. Anyone can come if they want; cry if they want.”

Before Zou Qi could excuse himself, the crying person had already barged in. A burst of fragrance wafted in. The pear blossom-like tears were all bringing rain, but unfortunately, it was overdone, making one’s hair stand on end.

With Han Lang’s permission, Zou Qi had the right to watch a big show for free.

Boss Zou listened for a long time before realizing that the visitors were a group of official prostitutes. Official prostitutes could come to this Prince Funing’s mansion; Prince Han Lang really didn’t stick to trifles.

With his mouth half open, he painstakingly digested what he heard.

Something about three-two-one mottos, something about private prostitutes being favored…

In the clouds and mist, he didn’t know what was being said.

“You have already complained about him.” Han Lang yawned with extreme impatience: “You’ve complained at least twice this year.”

“Your Highness, every year our Jiuchong Courtyard sends out invitations, and many officials grace us with their presence, but this year…”

“Enough! A brothel with both men and women can’t compare to him, Huarong alone? Then close down.”

“Your Highness, actually our loss of face is a small matter. We just can’t stand that Huarong relying on his charm to get pillow talk and spreading it everywhere. Saying something like…”

“What can a mute who can’t speak spread everywhere?” Han Lang laughed loudly.

The official prostitute was originally complacent, but at this moment, she finally heard the sarcasm in Han Lang’s words and fell silent for a while.

“But Your Highness, precisely because he is a mute, he knows a lot of things he shouldn’t know.” Someone inserted a sentence that shouldn’t have been inserted.

Han Lang narrowed his eyes and made a decision. Since there was nothing to do for amusement, he might as well use this to make an example.

Huarong, private prostitute, let’s play with him today.

“Liuyun, prepare the horse.”