Feudal Dregs - Chapter 50

Lan Yu, worn down by years of survival, had never attended an opera before. Yet even he could tell that the renowned performer Hua Xiaoliang was exceptional, judging by the thunderous applause from the audience.

Leaning against the window, he watched Hua Xiaoliang on stage. Truly a star of the capital—every glance, every gesture, every step exuded charm. Had this been Yangzhou, Lan Yu might have bought a ticket on a whim to sit quietly and enjoy the performance. But now, sharing the room with Li Mingzheng, his heart refused to settle.

While Lan Yu was distracted, Li Mingzheng seemed genuinely engrossed in the opera, sitting composedly with one hand resting on the armrest. His fingers were long and strong, knuckles pronounced, tapping lightly in rhythm with the lyrics.

On stage, the young nun, her heart restless and her vows forgotten, sang with poignant grace:

"His eyes linger on me, mine on him—

Between us, an unspoken bond, a silent yearning."

"Ah, you tormenting rogue!"—her voice a mix of bashfulness and coy reproach.

Lan Yu found himself drawn in, watching intently before remarking, "Hua Xiaoliang truly lives up to his reputation."

Li Mingzheng replied, "He studied under Feng Xiaocheng, a true opera fanatic who once performed regularly for the imperial court. Though not quite his master's equal, Hua Xiaoliang has inherited his legacy and now stands among the finest in the opera world."

Lan Yu crossed his arms, offering a thin, mocking smile. "The young master seems remarkably well-informed."

Li Mingzheng glanced at him, and Lan Yu continued, scrutinizing him, "Could it be that Hua Xiaoliang is a little paramour you've been keeping on the side?"

Li Mingzheng remained unruffled. "Lan Yu, focus on the performance."

Lan Yu sighed theatrically. "Why the secrecy? It's hardly scandalous for the esteemed Young Master Li to patronize a singer. I won't tell your father."

Li Mingzheng lifted his gaze, speaking deliberately, "Does my stepmother take such an interest in my private affairs?"

Lan Yu sighed again. "Naturally. After all, I am your stepmother—‘mother' in name, if not in blood. That makes me your elder."

He added, eyes glinting with playful accusation, "Besides, you're someone I care about. I ought to know what kind of person could catch Young Master Li's eye."

Li Mingzheng held Lan Yu's gaze steadily. Lan Yu didn't flinch, though a trace of resentment flickered in his eyes, as if Li Mingzheng had truly wronged him.

Suddenly, Li Mingzheng said, "Come here."

Lan Yu eyed him warily. Li Mingzheng leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, but his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Lan Yu. After a tense silence, Lan Yu asked, "No more opera?"

"Lan Yu," Li Mingzheng called, his voice low.

After a pause, Lan Yu finally stepped forward—only to have his wrist seized the moment he drew near. He stumbled and landed squarely in Li Mingzheng's lap.

Lan Yu struggled, but an arm coiled around his waist, holding him fast. "Li Mingzheng!"

Li Mingzheng's voice was calm. "Don't move."

Li Mingzheng was tall, his hands gripping Lan Yu's waist in a posture that made the latter somewhat uncomfortable. Lan Yu said indifferently, "Your little lover is singing opera down there. One glance up and he'll see us."

Li Mingzheng replied, "He's not my lover."

"...Oh?" Lan Yu said. "But I'm your father's ninth concubine, Li Mingzheng. In such a public place, with so many eyes around—“

Li Mingzheng held his waist firmly, his palm slowly stroking for a moment before he drawled, "So what?"

Lan Yu thought for a bit and concluded, "Bold as brass."

Li Mingzheng neither confirmed nor denied it.

Unable to break free, Lan Yu gave up struggling and instead wrapped an arm around Li Mingzheng's neck. "But if someone reports this to your father, my dear young master, would you just watch me die?"

Li Mingzheng said offhandedly, "Foxes live long lives."

Lan Yu: "What?"

Li Mingzheng squeezed his buttocks firmly, his expression calm as he remarked, "They say a fox has nine tails—one tail, one life. You won't die, little concubine."

Lan Yu hadn't expected Li Mingzheng to crack a joke. He gazed at him and sighed melodramatically, "Then I must be a fox in this world to endure tribulations. Other fox spirits wave their sleeves and shake mountains and rivers, topple kings and ministers. But when it comes to me, the script changes—my fate is fraught with hardship, stumbling from one calamity to the next, meeting nothing but those with hearts harder than stone."

Down on the stage, Hua Xiaoliang was singing opera in a lilting voice, tapping a wooden fish drum, his brows lively as he chanted, "Recite a few lines of Buddha's name, ah! Curse the matchmaker once..." As if realizing he'd crossed a line, he quickly shut his eyes, the drumbeats growing frantic like his unsettled heart. Li Mingzheng held Lan Yu, listening to his nonsense, then lowered his gaze and suddenly gripped the back of his neck.

Sensing something, Lan Yu looked up. He had the alluring eyes of a fox, truly like a spirit from the mountains—vibrant in anger, beautiful in sorrow. Their eyes met briefly, and Lan Yu inexplicably felt an oppressive weight. Li Mingzheng's dark pupils stared at him wordlessly, expressionless, reminding Lan Yu of a beast lurking in the shadows, lazily, indifferently sizing up prey that had stumbled into its path—as if the next moment, it would pounce and tear flesh and bone to shreds.

Lan Yu shut his mouth and turned away, watching the opera below without another word.

Suddenly, soft lips brushed his earlobe. Li Mingzheng nuzzled his ear, and Lan Yu stiffened, whispering, "Li Mingzheng, what are you doing?"

Li Mingzheng patted his backside and said, "Listening to the opera."

With that, he bit down on Lan Yu's earlobe. Li Mingzheng bit hard—there was no doubt it would leave teeth marks.

Lan Yu let out a soft gasp. The window was open, and anyone who happened to look up could see their compromising position. Though Lan Yu rarely showed his face in public, Li Mingzheng was different. He was the legitimate eldest son of the Li family and a frequent patron of this opera house. If anyone recognized him, their scandalous affair—a stepmother and his own stepson—would be exposed to the world.

Lan Yu tensed with nervousness, his entire body rigid. Li Mingzheng, holding him, naturally noticed his stiffness but paid it no mind. His gaze remained fixed on the stage while his hands grew increasingly bold, even lifting the hem of Lan Yu's robe to slip beneath his clothes.

"The more I think, the more sorrow weighs upon me..."

Li Mingzheng stroked Lan Yu's thigh, his broad palm warm and rough with calluses, impossible to ignore. Lan Yu clenched his legs together, but Li Mingzheng commanded, "Spread them."

In such a public setting, surrounded by noise and crowds, Lan Yu's ears flushed red. He refused. Undeterred, Li Mingzheng tugged down his undergarments and delivered a sharp slap to his backside. "Stepmother, is the opera not to your liking?"

How dare he ask? Lan Yu gritted his teeth and retorted coldly, "If you're watching the opera, where are your hands wandering?!"

Li Mingzheng remained unbothered. "You've been swaying in front of me all this time."

Lan Yu grabbed his wrist before it could slide between his thighs and sneered, "It's you who's like a little nun—impure in mind, consumed by lust, and yet you blame me?"

Li Mingzheng replied leisurely, "I'll just touch. Nothing more."

Lan Yu scoffed and tried to slip out of his embrace, but Li Mingzheng held him fast. In their struggle, Lan Yu knocked against the tea table and was pressed fully against the window.

At that very moment—whether drawn by the commotion above or by chance—Hua Xiaoliang turned slightly on stage, raising his hand as his gaze lifted and locked directly with Lan Yu's.

Lan Yu's breath hitched. Caught off guard, a low moan escaped his lips as Li Mingzheng cupped his cunt, palming and kneading it until Lan Yu trembled uncontrollably.

Li Mingzheng murmured, "Stepmother, your pussy is swollen."

On stage, the performance reached its climax. Hua Xiaoliang swept his sleeves and sang, "I was born a delicate maiden, not a man of the world..."

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