Chapter 2#
“Good Dog.”#
The servants quickly parted to make way, and three young men dressed in splendid brocade robes approached.
The youth at the center was dressed in a long robe of ice-blue brocade patterned with qilin, cinched at the waist with a tea-green belt that made his waist appear slim and delicate. A lustrous ring-shaped jade pendant hung at his side. He carried himself with the air of a graceful young gentleman.
His features were extraordinarily handsome, his eyes bright and clear. With every flicker of his gaze, there lay a hint of innocent naïveté, along with a vibrant, carefree vigor—a youth as pure and striking as polished jade.
He exuded a warm aura as radiant and captivating as the sun.
As he walked by, every servant looked at him with undisguised reverence and admiration. The other young masters clustered around him, unwilling to stray even half a step away.
This person was Rong Yu’s half-brother, the second young master Rong Yue, one year his senior. His mother was the current matriarch of the Rong household, née Bai. As for Rong Yu’s own mother, she had died three years ago in a mountain bandit attack while returning with Rong Yu to visit his maternal grandfather’s Yang family.
Within half a year of Lady Yang’s death, Lady Bai had been elevated from concubine to lawful wife.
This went against all convention. Whenever the matriarch of a noble house in the capital passed away, if the lord were to marry again, he ought to choose a proper miss from another distinguished family of equal standing.
The kind of thing the Rong household had done—raising a concubine to wife—was rare indeed, and could hardly escape criticism and ridicule from outsiders.
But Rong Yu’s father, Rong Xiuyong, paid it no mind. After all, Lady Bai was his one true love.
If not for the Bai family being too small and insignificant to amount to anything, and if not for the Yang family being the famed imperial merchants of Yangzhou whose wealth could aid his official career, how could Rong Xiuyong have borne to make his beloved a concubine?
Now that he held the rank of a third-rank official and his career was proceeding smoothly, the moment Lady Yang died and his restraints were gone, he immediately elevated Lady Bai to wife.
Rong Yue too had gone from a concubine’s son to a legitimate son.
But even before, as a concubine’s son, he had enjoyed treatment little worse than a legitimate heir’s. Rong Xiuyong, loving the mother and thus the child, doted on Rong Yue with the tenderness of an affectionate father. Toward Rong Yu, however, he was cold and repulsed, never deigning to discipline him personally.
Nor was it only Rong Xiuyong who doted on him.
Rong Yue—the second young master of the Rong family—was a name renowned throughout the capital.
The world said he had the bearing of an immortal and the heart of a bodhisattva.
Every winter, he set up a porridge station west of the city, bringing food and warmth to the poor. In the height of summer, he would distribute free herbal tea so the beggars of the western quarter could find relief from the scorching heat.
And the lively scene of him calling upon friends in spring, riding through the streets on horseback, was passed from mouth to mouth among the common folk—a handsome youth so bright and fierce that one fleeting glimpse was enough to leave an unforgettable impression.
Countless young men and women in the capital harbored feelings of admiration for Rong Yue. Even the Crown Prince, the Third Prince, the young general of Zhenyuan General’s Estate, and the young commandery princess of Rongning Princess’s Estate all secretly cherished some hidden affection for him.
Why was Rong Yu so clear on all this?
Because, of course, Rong Yue was the group-doted, universally adored male lead of this book.
Rong Yu looked at the newcomer, raised an eyebrow, and broke into a smile. “Second Brother has arrived.”
Rong Yue wore no fur coat even in winter. His frame was slender, standing proud and full of life like a green bamboo in the snow.
In contrast, Rong Yu was curled up in his wheelchair, draped in a thick fox-fur robe, a blanket over his legs, a hand warmer clutched in his arms. His face was pale and sickly, giving one the impression he hadn’t long to live.
Rong Yue glanced at Chu Tan, who was kneeling in the snow, and furrowed his brows. “Is Third Brother punishing a servant?”
Rong Yu nodded.
“May I ask what offense he committed, to make Third Brother fly into such a rage?”
Rong Yu toyed with the whip handle in his hand, smiled, and turned to say, “Lü’e, tell Second Brother what he did wrong.”
Lü’e knelt on the ground, her hands already red from the cold. Stammering, she said, “Reporting to Second Young Master, Chu Tan broke our young master’s gold-thread glass cup, and he won’t admit it.”
Rong Yue frowned.
Before he could speak, one of the young masters beside him could not hold back. “It’s only a cup. Is it worth flaying someone’s skin open?”
The speaker was Li Zonghan, the legitimate third son of the Grand Court of Sacrifices minister. He studied together with several other young masters at the Rong family’s private school.
Rong Yu gave a soft laugh. “Only a cup?”
He lowered his gaze and called, “Mo Shu.”
Rong Yu’s personal attendant, who had been standing silently at his side, bowed his head. “Yes.”
Mo Shu turned, offered a bow to Li Zonghan, and said in a measured voice, “In reply to Young Master Li, my young master’s gold-thread engraved openwork glass cup was brought back by Duobao Pavilion from the Southern Seas via sea trade and canal shipping, a journey of a year and a half. A renowned craftsman was then commissioned to carve my young master’s name into the base of the cup. The total cost was nine thousand three hundred taels of gold.”
When he mentioned that the craftsman’s name was carved at the base of the cup, the kneeling Lü’e trembled all over. Her terrified gaze shot to Rong Yu before she quickly lowered her head, her face pale as paper.
Li Zonghan’s face filled with shock. “Nine thousand taels of gold?”
He had always known that Rong Yu’s late mother was from the Yang family of Yangzhou, and that the Yang family was enormously wealthy. But he had never expected Rong Yu to casually produce nine thousand taels of gold for a useless glass cup.
With that much gold, one could buy hundreds or thousands of servants. If something so precious were broken on his watch, he too would want to beat the servant to death to vent his fury!
Li Zonghan’s expression turned awkward. Having just been pleading for justice, he now flushed red, unsure how to react.
Rong Yue frowned, glanced at Lü’e, and then calmly looked away.
He said, “Third Brother’s belongings are naturally precious. But although Chu Tan is a servant, he is still a human life. The glass cup is already broken—beating him to death would change nothing. Besides, from what I hear, it isn’t certain that he was the one who broke it.”
Rong Yu raised an eyebrow, slowly winding the red tassel of the whip handle around his fingers. The tassel was crimson, making his already pale fingers seem even more slender and bloodless.
“Is Second Brother saying I’ve wronged him?”
Rong Yue pressed his lips together, then said sternly, “Father has taught us to be kind to others and to hold compassion for all living beings. Even ants and worms struggle and strive in this world, seeking a chance to live—how much more so a human life? Even if they are servants and menial laborers, their lives cannot be treated as if they were worth nothing. The truth must be gotten to the bottom of.”
Rong Yue’s words made the servants around them feel a surge of warmth in their chests, tears welling in their eyes. What a kind master! One so noble and precious, yet willing to spare a thought for the lowly lives of servants. Truly, a bodhisattva’s heart.
Li Zonghan and the others looked at Rong Yue with blazing admiration and appreciation in their eyes.
The atmosphere was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Then, abruptly, a low laugh broke the silence. Rong Yu’s laugh was slow, soft, and gentle—yet it made one’s back run cold for no reason.
“Second Brother is truly righteous. Then perhaps Second Brother could pay it off for him instead?”
Rong Yue was taken aback. Of course, he couldn’t produce that much money—but he had no choice but to save Chu Tan.
After a moment’s deliberation, he said, “Put aside the question of whether Chu Tan truly broke the glass cup. Even if he did, what if I find a skilled craftsman to restore it? Hand him over to me, and spare his life.”
Rong Yu folded the whip in half, bent down slightly, and used the tip to lift Chu Tan’s chin. “Did you hear that? My Second Brother wants to save you.”
Only now did Chu Tan’s full face come into view before Rong Yu’s eyes. Just as the book had described—brows like ink-painted strokes, eyes like lacquered dots, features sharp and distinct as if carved by a knife. It was an extraordinarily handsome youth’s face, belonging to the most beautiful male lead in the entire book.
At this moment, his eyes were lowered, his thick dark lashes trembling slightly from enduring pain. His thin lips were pressed into a straight line, and a thread of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, making his handsome face seem even paler.
A flash of determined confidence passed through Rong Yue’s eyes.
“Unfortunately, in this courtyard, what I say goes.” Rong Yu’s smile vanished abruptly. He shoved Chu Tan away hard and delivered another lash of the whip, making Chu Tan let out a muffled grunt, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Rong Yue looked anxious. “Rong Yu! Why must you be so cruel? Keep beating him and he’ll die! When Father returns and learns you’ve killed a servant on a whim, he will be furious.”
“Second Brother, don’t try to use Father to pressure me.” Rong Yu looked at Rong Yue, a hint of amusement curling at his lips. “He’s just a dog I keep. Why would that make Second Brother so worried?”
Rong Yue composed himself and said with feigned calm, “There are outsiders present. I simply don’t wish to air the family’s dirty laundry. There’s no need for you to fly into such a rage—it wouldn’t do to harm your own health. If you think he lacks discipline, why not hand him over to Second Brother? I’ll discipline him for you. That would be better than earning yourself a reputation for cruelty.”
A gust of cold wind swept by. Rong Yu lowered his head and coughed twice. His face grew even paler, a watery sheen rising in his peach-blossom eyes, and his lips turned redder still.
He curled his alluring lips. “Second Brother has thought of everything.”
Mo Shu stepped forward to replace Rong Yu’s hand warmer with a carved one, then drew the fox-fur robe more tightly around him. He said in a low voice, “Young master, it’s time to return to your room.”
Rong Yu waved him off, then lifted the whip and gave Chu Tan a light tap on the back. “Come here.”
The veins on the back of Chu Tan’s hands bulged. Using every ounce of strength he had, he straightened his back and crawled to Rong Yu’s feet.
Rong Yu seized Chu Tan’s chin in one hand. “Raise your eyes. Look at me.”
Chu Tan slowly lifted his eyelids. A pair of deep, pitch-black eyes, profound as an ancient pool, stared directly at Rong Yu. In their depths lurked a bone-chilling coldness that sent a shiver down the spine.
But Rong Yu only smiled all the more brightly. The corners of his bewitching peach-blossom eyes tinged with a hint of rouge color, and his vivid red lips curved into a mocking smirk. “Second Brother has a bodhisattva’s heart. He wants to save you. I’ll give you a choice—will you go with him?”
Chu Tan’s gaze did not shift, like the surface of a lake frozen for a thousand years. No one could guess what lurked beneath.
He parted his lips slightly, his voice hoarse and parched. “No.”
Rong Yue was stunned, apparently not expecting Chu Tan to refuse him. Confusion also flickered in his eyes—he couldn’t understand why Chu Tan, after being beaten so brutally, would still choose to remain at Biying Pavilion.
Rong Yu laughed louder. His thumb pressed hard against the bleeding corner of Chu Tan’s mouth, rubbing it roughly, smearing the bright red blood across his pale, cracked lips until the color was worked into them.
Rong Yu narrowed his eyes, his peach-blossom gaze shimmering with allure, and leaned in until he was almost intimately close to Chu Tan’s lips. He uttered two syllables: “Good dog.”
He shoved Chu Tan away, then called for Mo Shu to push him back to his room.
Without looking back, Rong Yu said, “Since he’s so ungrateful and has disgraced Second Brother, let him keep kneeling.”