Feudal Dregs - Chapter 14

The bed in Guanyin Temple was crude—hard planks with a bamboo mat, and situated in the mountains, it wasn't overly hot. Outside, the cacophony of cicadas mingled with croaking frogs, an unending chorus of noise.

For once, Li Mingzheng found himself unable to sleep. He lay awake, staring at the temple's rafters.

Li Mingzheng's mind conjured up the image of Lan Yu—Lan Yu pushing his father's wheelchair, brushing past him, the scent lingering in his nostrils. There was no cloying opium smell, only sandalwood and a light fragrance, like the delicate sweetness of a ripe lychee, its rough peel peeled away to reveal the tender flesh within.

Overripe. With just a squeeze, the juice would spill over his palm.

Lan Yu said he liked him. Li Mingzheng didn't believe a word of it.

Though aloof by nature, since childhood, men and women alike had flocked to him, the young master of the Li family, vying for his favor. Li Mingzheng didn't trust Lan Yu's so-called affection.

The fact that Lan Yu could wrap his father around his finger proved he was no ordinary man.

Yet here was this very person, whispering sweet nothings to him, professing love as if deeply smitten—his acting flawless, but his intentions crude and shallow, transparent to anyone who looked.

A contradiction so infuriating.

Li Mingzheng closed his eyes, but unbidden, the image of that slender ankle surfaced—a man's foot, yet delicate and well-proportioned, tensed slightly, revealing a faint red mole on the left ankle.

These days, many men favored the bound feet of women, those tiny "three-inch golden lotuses" that could be cradled in the palm. Li Mingzheng had seen them, but he had no such fetish. Even the crescent-shaped feet of women had never held his gaze.

Yet somehow, he remembered Lan Yu's bare feet.

Li Mingzheng's fingers twitched before he snapped back to reality. He lifted his eyes, expressionless, staring at the tent in his trousers. He had gotten hard thinking about Lan Yu.

The Li family stayed at the Guanyin Temple for five days. On the day of their descent, the sun blazed mercilessly, heat waves piercing through the dense forest, leaving everyone restless and irritable.

By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, the Li family's carriage was already waiting.

Lan Yu sat inside, watching as the city gates of Beijing slowly came into view. For some reason, he felt an inexplicable, growing heat within him.

Old Master Li said, "We'll be home soon."

Lan Yu smiled at him, then let the carriage curtain fall. Leaning against the wall of the compartment, his fingers unconsciously twisted together. He thought of Li Yuqing, of the many eyes watching him in the Li household, of the stifling oppression of the Li residence—and suddenly, he felt as though he were stepping into a cage.

Like a bird fluttering into a gilded cage, only for the door to slam shut behind it the moment it entered.

Before long, the gates of the Li mansion came into sight, and the carriage halted.

Lan Yu stepped out and immediately spotted Li Mingzheng standing beside another carriage—tall, composed, his face as cold as ever. Their eyes met, but Li Mingzheng remained unreadable.

Lan Yu curved his lips into a faint smile before slowly turning away. His gaze landed on the concubines and servants gathered outside the mansion, their heavy perfumes assaulting his senses like flowers in full, desperate bloom.

Bloomed past their prime, soon to wither.

Lan Yu couldn't quite name the emotion in his chest. He averted his eyes, glancing at the servant waiting beside him, who immediately bowed and pushed the wheelchair forward, calling out, "Master."

Three months into his relationship with Old Master Li, the old man had suggested he move into the Li mansion. Lan Yu had refused.

Lan Yu had once thought that Old Master Li was just toying with him out of curiosity—men were all like that, chasing novelty until the thrill faded. He might even be able to return to playing his pipa someday, or at worst, walk away with a sum of money. But he never expected that on a night after their intimacy, Old Master Li would say to him, "Lan Yu, come home with me."

Lan Yu froze for a moment before forcing a smile. "How could that be? I'm a man... If word got out, people would laugh at you."

At that time, Old Master Li wasn't yet paralyzed. He fixed Lan Yu with a deep gaze and asked, "You don't want to?"

Lan Yu slowly sat up and murmured, "How could you say such a thing? To have your favor is something many would beg for."

Old Master Li reached out to stroke Lan Yu's cheek. Lowering his eyes, Lan Yu whispered, "I know you care for me, and I'd like to stay with you too. But how could I let you become the laughingstock of the world because of me?"

Old Master Li replied, "What laughingstock? You're my little bodhisattva."

Lan Yu shot him a sidelong glance. "Only you would treasure this incomplete body of mine. Others would probably burn me as a demon if they saw."

Old Master Li pulled Lan Yu close, caressing his sweat-dampened buttocks, cupping the slick entrance in his palm like a lotus bud before giving in to his wicked urge to defile it, parting and kneading it with his fingers. Pressing close to Lan Yu's ear, he murmured, "You are my little bodhisattva, stealing my soul away."

His breathing grew ragged. Lan Yu gasped, his waist going weak as he collapsed into Old Master Li's arms.

After that, the matter of entering the Li residence was left unsettled—until Old Master Li became paralyzed. Then, the Li family's steward arrived at Lan Yu's doorstep with attendants, politely addressing him as "Ninth Concubine."

Lan Yu had no choice left.

No, he had never had a choice.

From the moment he stepped out of the carriage, Lan Yu dreaded seeing Li Yuqing. He feared Li Yuqing's unrestrained madness. Fortunately, the man wasn't home.

The summer heat was unbearable. After a brief appearance, Old Master Li dismissed the other concubines and took Lan Yu back to the main courtyard.

Lan Yu exhaled in relief.

Exhausted from the journey, Old Master Li grew drowsy as evening fell. After Lan Yu and the servants helped him wash up and he smoked a pipe of opium, he drifted into a heavy slumber.

Rubbing his sore neck, Lan Yu instructed the servants to prepare hot water for his room. The Li household had already lit lanterns, casting a warm glow everywhere. Though the family had electricity, they still preferred old customs—once night fell, lanterns would burn until dawn.

Lan Yu descended the steps at a leisurely pace, but before he could take two steps, a hand seized his arm and yanked him into the shadows of the trees. Caught off guard, he let out a startled cry—only for his mouth to be swiftly muffled by a strong palm.

"Shut up," came a man's low voice, laced with menace.

Lan Yu froze. The man asked, "What's your relationship with that old bastard from the Li family?"

Lan Yu struggled to steady his nerves and replied in a low voice, "...Who are you? What do you want?"

"What do I want—"The man sneered. "What do you think I want? With your delicate skin and tender flesh, you must be that old bastard's newly wedded male concubine, huh?"

Lan Yu pressed his lips together, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. The man had him pinned against a tree trunk, and as they pressed closer, Lan Yu caught the scent of alcohol on him.

The man nuzzled his ear and said with ill intent, "Only women become concubines. You're a man... unless you're actually a woman?"

As he spoke, his hand actually groped downward. Lan Yu gritted his teeth before suddenly realizing—he hissed, "Li Yuqing!"

The man paused, then burst into laughter. Who else could it be but that scoundrel Li Yuqing? He pressed a sloppy kiss to Lan Yu's ear and murmured, "So clever, little concubine. You figured it out so quickly."

"I've missed you to death," Li Yuqing murmured, biting his earlobe. Lan Yu let out a low groan and cursed, "You bastard, let me go."

Li Yuqing chuckled. "No. Little concubine, don't you see how much I've missed you? The moment I heard you were back, I came straight to see you."

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