Feudal Dregs - Chapter 23

Li Mingzheng looked at Lan Yu, the corner of his mouth lifting in mockery. "But seducing me is proper?"

Lan Yu blinked, tilting his head up at Li Mingzheng. "When it comes to matters of the heart, even if I'm branded a seducer, I'd gladly bear the shame."

Li Mingzheng's expression remained indifferent. "Liar."

Lan Yu sighed. "How strange. When I lie, people believe me. Yet when I speak the truth, no one does."

Li Mingzheng said nothing.

Lan Yu smiled again. "Young Master, if you don't leave, do you intend to watch me dress?"

Li Mingzheng studied the fox-like smirk on his face, laced with a hint of provocation. He hung the clothes on the nearby screen and then stood still, arms crossed, watching Lan Yu as if waiting for him to step out of the tub. Lan Yu was taken aback. "You're not leaving?"

Li Mingzheng replied coolly, "This is my place."

Lan Yu stared at him incredulously. "Young Master, are you... being a rogue?"

Li Mingzheng met his gaze. "Don't you like me?"

Lan Yu's eyes widened. Li Mingzheng's gaze trailed slowly down his face, as if with tangible weight, scrutinizing his neck, collarbones, and shoulders. Visible to the naked eye, Lan Yu's ears reddened, the flush spreading down his neck and chest. He smacked the water in frustration. "Li Mingzheng!"

Unfazed, Li Mingzheng remained composed, his demeanor so detached he hardly resembled a lecher ogling his stepmother. It seemed the Li family had a natural talent for such matters.

Li Mingzheng said, "With such meager skills, you'd do well to abandon any improper thoughts."

With that, he turned to leave—only for his sleeve to be caught by Lan Yu.

Their eyes locked.

Lan Yu laughed at himself. "Of course, my meager skills wouldn't catch Young Master Li's eye."

He released his grip, his damp fingers leaving wrinkled creases on Li Mingzheng's sleeve. Then, without hesitation, Lan Yu stood up and stepped out of the tub right in front of him. The young man's figure was exquisite—skin like snow, his chest adorned with rosy peaks, faint finger marks lingering on his waist. As he lifted a leg, the inner thighs revealed a scattering of bite marks and bruises, stark against the pale, dewy flesh, exuding an undeniable sensuality.

A naked, unashamed male body.

Li Mingzheng watched as Lan Yu stepped barefoot onto the water-splashed wooden floor, as he picked up a dry cloth to wipe himself down. His gaze never wavered, tracing the elegant curve of the young man's spine before settling on the plump swell of his backside.

Perhaps from years of sitting and playing the pipa, Lan Yu had developed full, voluptuous hips—ripe for being grasped and spanked in someone's palm.

Suddenly, a violet bolt of lightning split the sky outside, followed by the low rumble of thunder rolling in. The air in the room grew damp and stifling.

The shopkeeper, ever sharp-eyed, had picked out the finest fabric—a dark blue standing-collar robe. But as it was shaken out, a piece of white fabric slipped from its folds. Lan Yu glanced at it and realized it was a fashionable pair of triangular underpants.

He froze, heat instantly flooding his body, his hands and feet flustered. For the first time, he felt a genuine pang of shame.

The floor was wet, and the underpants were already soiled—unwearable now.

Li Mingzheng stood silently beside him, saying nothing, yet his presence was impossible to ignore.

Lan Yu's palms grew clammy as he hastily pulled on the robe. But when it came time to fasten the buttons, an inexplicable nervousness took hold, and his fingers fumbled uselessly. Frustrated, he clenched the button and snapped, "Li Mingzheng, how much longer are you going to stare?"

The polished facade finally cracked, revealing sharp edges he couldn't conceal.

Like a fox unable to hide the tip of its tail.

A hand reached over—slender, strong fingers with distinct knuckles. Li Mingzheng deftly fastened two buttons before pausing at the collar. "Look up," he said coolly.

Li Mingzheng was tall, and standing this close, his imposing aura was overwhelming. Lan Yu lifted his gaze in a daze, his eyes landing on the man's sharply defined jawline. His fingers were warm, brushing against Lan Yu's damp skin as he worked, making his entire body tense.

Their breaths were audible in the quiet.

Li Mingzheng's hands were steady, his movements unhurried, exuding an effortless grace. Lan Yu's ears burned as he fixed his gaze on the intricate patterns woven into Li Mingzheng's robe. Why am I so nervous? he wondered.

It was all just pretense anyway. Hadn't he done enough of that to get this far? Why the turmoil? Why the panic?

A shadow of gloom crept into Lan Yu's heart. Slowly, he raised his head and met Li Mingzheng's eyes. The man before him remained composed and indifferent, as if dressing a concubine—something so scandalous, so against propriety—was nothing out of the ordinary.

Lan Yu suddenly laughed, cold and humorless. "Young Master, you're so dull."

Li Mingzheng watched him.

Eyes locked, Lan Yu continued, "You don't even like me, yet you keep giving me hope before crushing it." He sighed, his voice weary. "You're worse than that bastard Li Yuqing."

Li Mingzheng adjusted his collar, tone even. "Then what do you want?"

Lan Yu smirked. "It's not about what I want—it's about what you want."

"If you don't like me, then pretend I don't exist. Don't look at me, don't spare me any kindness. And if you—" He bit his lip and turned away. "Never mind. Just the delusions of a fool, inviting humiliation."

Li Mingzheng seemed to listen, yet not at all, meticulously smoothing out the robe on Lan Yu's frame. The shopkeeper had a keen eye—the size was right, but Lan Yu was too thin, leaving the waist loose and hollow.

Just like the emptiness beneath.

Li Mingzheng glanced at the abandoned underpants on the floor.

When his hand settled on Lan Yu's waist, Lan Yu shuddered, glaring at him. "The robe's too big," Li Mingzheng remarked.

Lan Yu frowned, irritation flaring. Every ounce of his resistance felt like punching cotton—no impact, no resolution.

Li Mingzheng withdrew his hand and turned to walk toward the wardrobe in the inner room, casually instructing Lan Yu, "Come here."

Lan Yu watched his retreating figure, refusing to move. Li Mingzheng showed no urgency, leisurely opening the wardrobe where his clothes hung neatly in rows.

Li Mingzheng said calmly, "If you want to walk out bare-legged, go ahead."

Lan Yu retorted sharply, "If I walk out like this, even with ten mouths, the young master wouldn't be able to explain himself."

Unfazed, Li Mingzheng took out a pair of white cotton underwear from the drawer. The moment Lan Yu's gaze landed on the item in the man's hand, his words evaporated as if scorched by fire.

Lan Yu muttered, "...I won't wear it."

Without even looking up, Li Mingzheng said, "Will you come over yourself, or shall I throw you out?"

As if to emphasize his words, thunder rumbled outside, casting the room into dimness as wind and rain relentlessly battered the window. After a brief standoff, Lan Yu strode over barefoot and sneered coldly, "Who would've thought the proper young master harbors such peculiar tastes."

Li Mingzheng neither confirmed nor denied.

Gesturing to the nearby bed, Li Mingzheng commanded, "Sit."

He treated Lan Yu like a clay doll to be molded at will, or perhaps a three-year-old child. An unfamiliar sense of shame rose in Lan Yu—even his late mother had rarely cared for him so intimately.

Resting his hands on the bed—Li Mingzheng's bed, faintly scented with the same woody fragrance that clung to the man—Lan Yu studied him, uncertain whether he had taken the bait or was drawing boundaries.

But what kind of boundary was this? As for the bait... Lan Yu himself couldn't be sure.

When Li Mingzheng grasped his calf, Lan Yu curled his toes. His feet were well-proportioned, and though Li Mingzheng had glimpsed them before, this was the first time he held one so close. Guiding the underwear over Lan Yu's foot, he slowly pulled it upward. Lan Yu watched him, then pressed a foot against his knee.

Meeting Li Mingzheng's gaze, Lan Yu tilted his head with a bright smile. "Young master, do you know what you're doing?"

"I'm your father's woman—your stepmother."

Li Mingzheng remained unruffled. Gripping Lan Yu's calf firmly, he tugged him forward, supporting his buttocks as his hand slipped beneath the robe. The underwear settled snugly over the plump, pert curves.

"I know," he said.

Li Mingzheng said, "Ninth Concubine."

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