Feudal Dregs - Chapter 33

When Lan Yu opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on a wooden footbridge. Below it floated a black-canopied boat, while women in plain clothes washed laundry along the shore.

It took him several seconds to recognize this as the path he always took home. Though his mother worked on a pleasure barge, she'd rented a small house in the city for the two of them—a modest place they could call home.

His heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly broke into a run toward home.

He nearly collided with a plump woman on the roadside, who screeched, "Running so fast—are you rushing to be reborn?"

When she recognized it was Lan Yu, she immediately patted her sleeves and said, "You little vixen! What bad luck!"

Lan Yu wasn't angered. This woman lived next door to his family, with a voice so loud she'd call his mother a "big vixen" and him a "little vixen" every single day. After all these years, Lan Yu actually found it somewhat endearing.

As he reached his small courtyard, he saw his mother hanging laundry in the yard. He froze in his tracks and called out, "Mother!"

Sang Shi looked up, smiling warmly at him. "You're back so late? Go wash your hands—it's time to eat."

Lan Yu stared at her blankly. Sang Shi walked over, touched his face, and chuckled, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Lan Yu's eyes burned. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around Sang Shi and called out hoarsely, "Mother."

"I missed you so much," he said.

Li Yuqing was awakened by Lan Yu.

He looked at the hand gripping his arm—Lan Yu's eyes were still closed, but tears had gathered at the corners, and he was murmuring incoherently. Li Yuqing leaned closer and finally made out the word "Mother" from his lips. The realization made him laugh in irritation. Someone calling for their mother in his bed—this was a first.

He thought about shaking Lan Yu awake, but as he watched him, he stayed silent. Instead, he brushed his fingertips against the wetness at Lan Yu's eyes—his tears.

Lan Yu seemed to be drowning in sorrow, his weeping stifled, his grip on Li Yuqing's arm desperate, as though afraid the person in his dream would vanish.

After a long moment, Li Yuqing scoffed. "Really? Spending one night with your Second Master, and you're this miserable?"

The more he thought about it, the more it rankled him. He gave Lan Yu's cheek a light slap. "Wake up."

Lan Yu jolted awake, eyes wide, his expression dazed as if still caught in the dream. It took him a while to recognize Li Yuqing sitting beside him.

Li Yuqing had taken him over and over until he passed out. He hadn't expected Li Yuqing to stay the night in his room. Thinking of the dream—it had been so long since he last saw his mother—Lan Yu raked a hand through his hair and said, "Why are you still here?" His voice was hoarse.

Li Yuqing snorted. "Where else would your Second Master be?"

"Go back to your own room," Lan Yu said.

Li Yuqing clicked his tongue and pinched Lan Yu's cheek. "It's not that I don't want to leave. But my little concubine clung to me so tightly— legs wrapped around me, that little mouth down below biting—how could I bear to abandon you?"

Exhausted, Lan Yu had no energy for his nonsense. He glanced at the sky, expression blank. "Dawn's almost here."

Li Yuqing didn't respond but made no move to leave. Instead, he studied Lan Yu's damp lashes, his fingers itching. "Little concubine, what were you dreaming about?"

"None of your business," Lan Yu said flatly.

Li Yuqing sighed. "I wonder who it was, crying 'Mother' over and over in their sleep, hugging me so tight my shoulder got soaked."

Lan Yu's face darkened instantly. He glared at Li Yuqing, who remained unfazed and grinned. "Away from home, missing family is only natural—“

Before he could finish speaking, Lan Yu grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. Li Yuqing caught it with a laugh, saying, "Little concubine, no need to be so angry out of shame."

"Get out," Lan Yu said coldly.

Li Yuqing's expression darkened instantly. He seized Lan Yu's wrist, pinning him beneath his body, and said with a grim face, "You little whore, don't push your luck."

Lan Yu let out a muffled groan, his icy gaze fixed on Li Yuqing. "Li Yuqing, what can you possibly do to me?" he mocked. "Do I even have any dignity left? The Li family has already trampled all over it."

Meeting Lan Yu's clear, piercing eyes, Li Yuqing felt an inexplicable tremor in his heart. The two locked in a silent standoff for a moment before Li Yuqing abruptly released him and swung his legs off the bed.

As Li Yuqing dressed and reached for the door, he found himself glancing back involuntarily. Lan Yu lay motionless on the bed, so still he might as well have been a corpse rather than a living person.

***

After that night, Lan Yu didn't see Li Yuqing for several days. Even the old master Li became a rare sight, leaving Seventh Concubine Li as the one who kept Lan Yu company.

Rumors spread through the Li mansion that Lan Yu had fallen out of favor. Already a target of scorn, his sudden neglect turned him into a spectacle for everyone—from the concubines to the servants—who reveled in his misfortune.

"That shameless half-man still thought he could be a concubine? Just wait till the master tires of him and throws him out."

"A lowborn whore from the brothels dreaming of becoming a phoenix? What a joke."

"Won't be long before he's kicked out."

Such words were endless. When the gossip reached Lan Yu's ears, he said nothing, only feeling a bitter sense of irony. The old master Li hadn't entirely forgotten him, though—he sent over several bolts of fine brocade, saying that with autumn approaching, the tailor should make Lan Yu some new clothes.

Lan Yu accepted them calmly, unperturbed. But Li Ming'an, unable to bear the injustice, thought it made no sense for his father to bring Lan Yu home only to treat him this way. If his father didn't care for Lan Yu, he should let him leave the estate rather than waste his youth here.

Li Ming'an's heart burned with indignation on Lan Yu's behalf, yet it also secretly swelled with a selfish joy—one so shameful he couldn't even admit it to himself. Lan Yu was a man, his father's concubine, who treated him with sincerity, yet here he was, harboring filthy thoughts that felt like a desecration.

Tossing and turning, sleepless night after night, Li Ming'an happened upon a fine pipa in a music shop while accompanying a classmate. On impulse, he bought it.

His classmate raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Since when did you learn to play the pipa?"

Li Ming'an evaded the question. His classmate smirked knowingly. "If not for yourself, then it must be a gift. For a sweetheart, perhaps?"

Li Ming'an's face flushed scarlet. "Don't talk nonsense," he said stiffly. "What sweetheart?"

"No sweetheart, huh?" His classmate, young and mischievous, grinned wider. "Then why are you blushing?"

Li Ming'an left in a fluster, clutching the pipa, too embarrassed to let anyone know it was meant for his father's concubine. Having bought the instrument, he hesitated—how could he present it to Lan Yu without raising suspicions? It would be tantamount to admitting his improper intentions.

—Utterly disgraceful.

Gazing at the pipa nestled in its brocade case, Li Ming'an recalled seeing Lan Yu play once. The memory surfaced vividly: Lan Yu sitting beside his father in blue robes, head slightly bowed, fingers dancing across the strings to produce melodies as graceful as flowing water, like a scene from a painting.

He couldn't help imagining Lan Yu playing for him, and the thought made him so flustered that even his spectacles seemed fogged with heat. After two days of internal struggle, he could resist no longer and rushed to Lan Yu's courtyard with the case.

When Lan Yu saw the rosewood pipa—the very one he'd admired before—he paused in surprise. Li Ming'an studied his expression anxiously. "Don't you like it? I know nothing about pipas, but the shopkeeper said even masters praise this one," he babbled.

"The pipa is exquisite," Lan Yu replied, "but unearned gifts are improper. This is too generous, Third Young Master. I cannot accept."

"It's nothing, really just a pipa," Li Ming'an blurted, then immediately regretted his transparent eagerness, pressing his lips shut in chagrin.

The early autumn afternoon remained sultry, sunlight filtering through the lattice windows. Lan Yu reclined in a wicker chair, exhaustion lining his features, his slender, pale hands resting listlessly on the armrests—dazzlingly white.

Since that dream, Lan Yu had longed to see his mother again, but she refused to visit his sleep. Instead, memories surfaced of her teaching him to read and write. Educated herself, she'd been his first teacher. In those days before the imperial exams were abolished, people mocked her: "A prostitute trying to raise a scholar?"

Unfazed, Sang Shi had told him, "I teach you not for fame or rank, but so you may understand propriety and honor, to live uprightly with clean hands."

The words echoed in his mind. Perhaps she stayed away because he'd betrayed her hopes.

He'd disappointed her.

When she'd learned he sold himself to a pleasure boat for money, his chronically ill mother had nearly hanged herself in rage. Later, discovering he only played the pipa, she'd said after a long silence, "I've burdened you."

If she knew he'd become a man's concubine, using his malformed body to please another, she'd surely regret not taking him with her.

A bone-deep weariness suddenly overwhelmed Lan Yu, draining him of all vitality, leaving even life and death indifferent.

The young man stood stiffly in place. Lan Yu raised his eyes to look at Li Ming'an and asked calmly, "Third Young Master, why did you gift me this pipa?"

His gaze was transparent, and with just one glance, Li Ming'an felt as if all his hidden thoughts were laid bare. He clenched his fingers and stammered, "I... I just saw this pipa and thought it looked lonely in the music shop. It would be better off with someone who truly appreciates it..."

Li Ming'an's words were clumsy, but Lan Yu remained unmoved. Slowly, he closed his eyes and said, "Third Young Master, I am but a vulgar man, born into the lowest class. I am unworthy of such a fine pipa."

Li Ming'an, however, insisted firmly, "You are worthy."

"If even you are unworthy," Li Ming'an said, "then it might as well be firewood, burned to ashes in the stove."

His lips pressed together stubbornly. Lan Yu neither agreed nor disagreed, merely rocking slowly in his rattan chair. "Then, Third Young Master, you should burn it."

Li Ming'an froze, staring at Lan Yu, suddenly feeling a pang of grievance. He called out softly, "Lan Yu..."

Lan Yu replied indifferently, "Third Young Master, you should address me as Ninth Concubine."

Li Ming'an had never seen Lan Yu so cold before. For a moment, he was at a loss. Lan Yu, however, paid no mind and had no intention of continuing this hollow exchange with a member of the Li family. "I'm tired," he said. "Please leave."

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