Feudal Dregs - Chapter 29

Amidst the chaos in Beijing, their late return went unnoticed. Only Li Ming'an's mother, Madam Zhao, was waiting at the gate. The moment she saw her son, she briefly locked eyes with Lan Yu before immediately turning her attention to Li Ming'an, grasping his hands and looking him over while complaining, "Why didn't you come home? What were you doing at the porridge kitchen?"

Li Ming'an said, "I just went to take a look. Mother, you're not well yet. Why are you up?"

Madam Zhao said, "Your eldest brother specifically sent someone to tell us to stay inside these days. When I saw you hadn't returned so late, how could I not worry?"

She rambled on, coughing twice. Li Ming'an patted her back and instinctively glanced at Lan Yu. Lan Yu nodded politely and quietly headed toward his own courtyard.

Li Ming'an wanted to say something but didn't know what. Supporting Madam Zhao, he said, "Mother, the wind is strong outside. Let me take you back."

Madam Zhao smiled and nodded. As mother and son walked hand in hand, she asked, "Why were you with the Ninth Concubine?"

Li Ming'an answered vaguely, "We happened to run into each other."

Madam Zhao didn't think much of it and said, "No matter what, he is your father's concubine. Even though he's a man, you still need to maintain propriety."

The words "your father's concubine" made Li Ming'an feel as if his hidden feelings were exposed to the world, filling him with shame and discomfort. He pressed his lips together and remained silent. Not hearing a response, Madam Zhao looked up curiously at her spirited young son. Li Ming'an hurriedly said, "I understand, Mother."

Madam Zhao sighed helplessly. "You—stop thinking about unnecessary things." She murmured, "Everyone has their own fate, determined by heaven. Entering this Li family mansion was his destiny, even though he's a man..."

Thinking of Lan Yu, Li Ming'an fell silent.

The mother and son walked back into the courtyard when Li Ming'an suddenly said, "Mother, there's no such thing as predestined fate. As long as one refuses to be controlled, there's always a way."

Madam Zhao paused, then shook her head. "Don't speak such childish words in front of your father, lest you anger him again."

Li Ming'an smiled. "I understand."

An expression of helplessness crossed Madam Zhao's face as she cautioned, "Stay home these days and don't go wandering about."

Li Ming'an agreed, and Madam Zhao sighed. "The capital changes by the day—who knows when this will end? The other day, your aunt wrote saying your uncle has fallen ill."

"Uncle is ill? What did the doctor say?"

Madam Zhao sighed again. "Back then, your uncle finally passed the imperial examinations, only for the Qing court to collapse. He felt his ambitions had nowhere to take root, and he's been depressed all these years..."

Li Ming'an said, "If you ask me, Uncle should open his eyes and see the world as it is now. This is the Republic era—why cling to that feudal court?"

Madam Zhao glared at him. He fell silent and smiled at her. She then asked, "Do you remember Qingyue from your uncle's household?"

Li Ming'an answered absentmindedly. Madam Zhao continued, "Your aunt wants to send her to Beijing—”

"To Beijing? For what?"

Madam Zhao chuckled. "Silly child, what else? Your aunt means to strengthen family ties through marriage."

Li Ming'an's eyes widened. "My eldest brother?" He shook his head vehemently. "Stepmother would never agree."

Madam Zhao laughed in exasperation. "It's you. In the Zhao family's current state, how could we aspire to your eldest brother?" She sighed softly. "The Zhao family declines by the day. I have no great expectations for you, only that you stay well. Qingyue is a gentle girl, though two years your senior..."

Li Ming'an interrupted her. "Mother—what are you saying? She's just my cousin. How could we marry? Besides, neither my eldest nor second brother are married yet. How could I precede them?"

Madam Zhao frowned slightly. "No one said you must marry now, only to have her come—"

"I won't marry her," Li Ming'an declared firmly, his brows tightly knit.

Madam Zhao looked at him without anger, covering her lips as she coughed twice. "I merely asked. You resist so strongly," she observed him with a faint smile. "Could it be you've set your heart on someone?"

Li Ming'an froze, his ears turning red as his gaze wavered. "Nonsense... I just don't want to marry someone I don't love."

Madam Zhao said, "A mother knows her son. Ming'an, which family's daughter has caught your eye?"

Which family's daughter?

No family's daughter—but his father's ninth concubine, his young stepmother.

The thought filled Li Ming'an with shame and guilt, tangled with melancholy, a tumult of emotions. "Mother... oh, don't ask. There's no girl I fancy."

Madam Zhao smiled. "Very well, none then."

Li Ming'an's ears burned redder as he took her arm to steady her. "Exactly. I haven't even completed my studies—how could I think of romance?"

After a pause, he couldn't help asking, "Mother, if the one I loved... were of humble origins..."

Madam Zhao laughed. "As long as she's a good, caring girl, her background matters not—though she may not aid your future prospects."

Li Ming'an muttered, "I didn't marry for profit."

"The person I love, I just want us to spend a lifetime happily together."

***

Lan Yu saw Li Mingzheng again three days later. Beijing finally showed signs of clearing up, as if after the storm, the world had settled, the clouds gradually dispersing to reveal a stretch of clear sky.

After the prolonged rain, Old Master Li felt sore and weary, reclining on the luohan bed with his gold-inlaid opium pipe. Lan Yu knelt beside him, massaging his paralyzed legs. Li Mingzheng sat on a mahogany drum stool as father and son idly discussed the situation in Beijing and the family business. Li Mingzheng was aloof and composed, even in front of his father, speaking succinctly. Their interaction lacked the warmth of father and son, carrying instead an air of superior and subordinate.

The power in Beijing had shifted once more, with the ensuing changes in influence like tides—some drowned in the waves, others rode the wind to new heights. The Li family dealt in textiles and fabrics. Though they suffered considerable losses in the prolonged floods, Li Yuqing's shrewd management secured them a place under the Fengtian clique, their influence growing even stronger, making the Li family more sought-after than ever.

A flicker of regret passed through Lan Yu's heart. When he raised his eyes, they met Li Mingzheng's gaze, and his chest tightened with the unsettling feeling of being seen through.

Lan Yu blinked at Li Mingzheng, his fox-like eyes carrying a hint of affection. Li Mingzheng regarded him impassively. Lan Yu wore a white changshan, his sideburns grown long enough to cover his ears, his slender wrists exposed, his feet pale and delicate, toes slightly flexed. Kneeling, he revealed the graceful line of his shoulders and neck, like a lotus unfurling its petals in the waters of Jiangnan.

For some reason, Li Mingzheng suddenly recalled the lotus flowers in the pond, battered and scattered by the rain. At their peak, a lotus- picking girl had once plucked one to tuck behind her ear —a vision of blossoms and beauty reflecting each other.

If Lan Yu were to wear one in his hair...

"Tired?" Li Mingzheng looked up to see Old Master Li holding Lan Yu's hand, squeezing his palm. "Rest for a while."

Lan Yu responded with a smile, straightening to refill the old man's teacup before tilting the pot to pour for Li Mingzheng. Face to face, their gazes brushed faintly, not a word spoken, yet the air between them was thick with unspoken allure.

Lan Yu said, "Eldest Young Master, have some tea."

Li Mingzheng looked at the slender curve of his neck, rubbed his fingertips, and responded indifferently before raising the teacup to take a sip.

As Li Mingzheng stepped out of Old Master Li's courtyard, he spotted Lan Yu waiting by the arched gate, having left earlier.

Their eyes met, and Lan Yu smiled brightly. "Eldest Young Master, the master's birthday is approaching. I was thinking of commissioning a craftsman to make a new opium pipe as a gift, but I'm not familiar with Peking. Would you be willing to help me with this?"

Mingzheng replied coolly, "What kind of design?"

Lan Yu said, "I've drawn a draft—it's in my room."

His voice was soft, his gaze brazenly direct. Li Mingzheng studied the young man before him and thought, What a little slut.

The moment they entered Lan Yu's bedroom, Lan Yu pulled out a sketch from his desk. When Li Mingzheng reached for it, Lan Yu didn't let go, instead pinching the paper between two fingers. Their bodies were close, and Lan Yu murmured, "Do I look good today?"

Li Mingzheng regarded him impassively. Lan Yu tilted his head, exposing his neck, his smile sly as a fox. He chuckled softly, "My neck is practically burning."

Li Mingzheng's gaze lingered on that pale stretch of skin before he suddenly gripped it and yanked Lan Yu closer. "Flirting with me right in front of my father—Ninth Concubine, you've got some nerve."

Lan Yu showed no fear of the man's strong, slender fingers. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Li Mingzheng's lips. When Li Mingzheng didn't react, Lan Yu kissed him again, whispering, "If you don't miss me, can't I miss you?"

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