In an instant, Rong Tang’s mind flashed through at least eight hundred ways to die.
Emperor Renshou was turned into a human swine, Li Changfu had his eyes torn out by vicious dogs on his way to the execution ground, and Qin Pengxuan fell into the Nanfeng House and contracted an incurable disease…
No matter the lifetime, anyone who offended Su Huaijing—anyone who made the main villain angry or disgusted—never met a good end.
After the system delivered that ominous line, it fell silent. Whether it had gone into sleep mode or simply found a quiet corner to watch the spectacle unfold, Rong Tang had no idea.
Beyond the door, Fengyue House was alive with the same music and revelry it had hosted for years. Below, the shimmering waters of the Jinfen River reflected the flickering lights above.
Pinned against the door, Rong Tang had nowhere to retreat. Su Huaijing loomed over him, forcing him to tilt his head back, his neck stretched taut in a tense arc as he was made to endure the other man’s kiss.
Su Huaijing took a sip of wine and, still unsatisfied, pressed closer. One hand locked around Rong Tang’s bound wrists, while the other slid along his waistline with slow, deliberate ease.
His breath fanned across Rong Tang’s neck, warm and heavy, syncing with the rapid pulse beneath the skin. It was impossible to tell who was luring whom.
The air was thick with perfumed mist, carrying a faintly intoxicating scent. Perhaps it had an aphrodisiac effect, or perhaps it was simply another of Fengyue House’s many indulgent amusements.
Su Huaijing lowered his head, the tip of his tongue tracing over the pulse along the side of Rong Tang’s neck. He sometimes licked, sometimes kissed, sometimes nibbled, sometimes sucked. In the haze of it all, his wandering palm over Rong Tang’s waist intertwined their nerves and attention, until his lips and tongue reached his earlobe and finally bit down, light as a feather.
He tugged at the soft flesh between his teeth, exhaling gently. Rong Tang’s knees nearly buckled, his body on the verge of sinking to the floor. But the person in front of him found the opening instantly, slotting a knee between his legs, pressing him back against the door. Low laughter curled around his ear, damp and lingering, slipping unreasonably through his eardrum, striking that pitifully fragile nerve.
For a long time, Rong Tang couldn’t control himself and finally let out a whimper.
For the hand roaming over his waist and abdomen. For the chain that dragged against his skin with every movement. For the kisses that sparked heat wherever they landed. For the body wedging itself between his legs. For the person in front of him, whose possessiveness and overwhelming dominance expanded infinitely in that moment.
The air was thick with the drifting scent of incense and peach blossom wine.
Rong Tang gasped out a plea, his voice trembling, “Huaijing…”
“Mm.” Su Huaijing hummed in response, his tone light, but his body pressed even closer. Rong Tang had nowhere to escape. He could only endure the unmistakable sensation of something stirring to life, brushing against the base of his thigh with small, restless movements.
“Go on. I’m listening.” Su Huaijing pulled back for the briefest moment, releasing the earlobe he had been toying with between his teeth. But the moment the words left his lips, he descended again. He resembled a beast of the jungle that, once it had its prey in its clutches, had no intention of letting go. He would tease, torment, and indulge himself as much as possible.
The crisp clink of chains echoed from below, mingling with the wanton, debauched sounds filtering in from beyond the door, weaving together into a sinful symphony.
Rong Tang’s entire body felt weak, his mind drowning in a haze of heat and sensation, unable to form a single coherent thought.
Su Huaijing’s hand had already pried open the belt and slid into the concealed spot like a nimble snake. Slim, slender fingers met the soft flesh at the waist and tapped lightly, as if sending some signal of inquiry. But that’s wasn’t the case at all.
Rong Tang’s mind was flooded with thoughts, but was forced to be unable to think, so he was ready to beg for mercy and admit his mistake.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Su Huaijing released his earlobe that was almost red and swollen from his bites. His breath sprayed out during the movement, and his lips captured Rong Tang’s lips again.
“I gave you a chance, Tangtang.”
He quietly loosened their clasped hands. During their entangled kiss, Rong Tang seemed to feel several jolts of sensation all over. It wasn’t pain, but numbness combined with itchiness. Before he could perceive it clearly, his fingers were grasped again, and there was a sound of chains intertwining. The hand at his waist began skilfully burrowing downwards.
Rong Tang realised Su Huaijing’s intention and, in that instance, he felt more embarrassed than panic. Immediately, his free hand moved down anxiously to grab Su Huaijing’s arm. He shook his head, and attempted to restrain his movements with a hint of pleading in his eyes.
But almost instantly, an electric current seemed to surge from all over his body downwards. Rong Tang was slightly startled. Suddenly, he was held in a palm, hot and scorching.
Su Huaijing smiled softly, stepped back a little, put their foreheads together, and issued a delighted, yet merciless declaration: “Tangtang, you are hard.”
…
On the third floor of Fengyue House, in a private room at the western corner, the music and dancing came to an abrupt pause. The wine-soaked guests unconsciously straightened their spines, swirling the remaining alcohol in their heads. They exchanged uneasy glances, momentarily at a loss for words.
In the end, unable to make a decision, someone turned their gaze to Ke Hongxue.
The ever-indulgent and charming Tutor Ke was leisurely enjoying a string of glistening, ruby-red cherries, fed to him by a group of delicate hands. Perhaps they belonged to Xiaohong, Xiaolu, Xiaoying, or Xiaoyan. He lounged comfortably, utterly at ease.
Noticing the sudden attention, Ke Hongxue paused briefly, but without any change in expression, he swallowed the fruit and smiled. “Why are you all looking at me?”
Someone hesitated before asking, “Excellency Su is here… does he have official business?”
“Official business?” Ke Hongxue chuckled.
As if. He was probably just here to screw his husband. That hot-blooded brat was still too young and impatient to keep his composure.
He took a sip of wine and said, “His Majesty never strictly forbade officials from visiting entertainment venues. As for the cases of punishment recorded every year, those are usually the result of multiple offences stacked together. There’s no need to be overly concerned.”
Ke Hongxue’s lips curled. “Besides, the Censorate isn’t Su Huaijing’s personal playground. Why are you all so nervous?”
The officials present weren’t particularly high-ranking, nor were they insignificant.
Capital officials naturally held more prestige than their provincial counterparts, but Ke Hongxue—though merely a Junior Tutor of the Imperial Academy—navigated the court with ease, building connections with other idle officials who, like him, held prestigious yet largely ceremonial positions.
So while they had initially worried that Su Huaijing, the rising star of the Censorate, had come to Fengyue House on a secret mission, Ke Hongxue’s few casual remarks were enough to sway them. Soon, they resumed their indulgence, sinking back into the pleasures of the evening.
Tutor Ke drained his cup and lazily swept his gaze around the room. His eyes lingered on one particular face for a brief moment before moving on, lips still curved in amusement.
It wasn’t until a soft knock came at the door, followed by the arrival of the house’s steward, that Ke Hongxue’s brows arched ever so slightly. The man announced that a distinguished guest had requested his presence.
For the first time that night, Ke Hongxue let out a genuine smile. He stood, dusted off his robes, stepped outside, turned right, and entered a smaller, more secluded private room.
Inside, the scented incense had been extinguished, and the window facing the river was left open. The night breeze carried away the lingering sweetness in the air, replacing it with the crisp tranquility of an autumn evening.
By the window stood a man, his brows dark as ink, his expression cold and detached. He seemed utterly out of place amidst the surrounding decadence, an unyielding figure untouched by desire.
Ke Hongxue shut the door behind him and smiled. “Senior—”
“Kneel.”
Mu Jingxu cut him off, his deep, frigid gaze locking onto him from across the room… like an untouchable god, descended to the mortal world by mistake.
…
It was impossible to tell whether it was the alcohol clouding his mind or if the scene before him was simply too surreal… so much so that it felt like a dream.
Shadows flickered between light and dark, and the cold, clear moonlight spilled into the room, casting its glow upon a different kind of entanglement. It was one that could hardly be called innocent.
Rong Tang trembled violently, gasping for breath, drowning in sensation.
After it was over, he numbly stared at a few strands of unfamiliar hair caught between his fingers, still in a daze.
Moonlight filtered through the room, allowing him to finally take in his surroundings.
The antique wooden bed, the sheer silk canopy…
Every detail was familiar, yet each one sent a chill down his spine.
A round table stood nearby, a matching stool beside it.
The distance from the bed to the stool was precisely the length of the delicate gold chain that bound his wrist to Su Huaijing’s. The only sound in the stillness was its occasional soft jingling.
Everything was the same as before, as if mirroring the past.
Back then, there had been tension, but innocence. Now, innocence had been fed to the dogs.
The young prince said nothing. He turned his back, dressed himself, and rose to his feet. The man who had been kneeling for so long finally stood as well, his collar and the tip of his nose stained with something inexplicable.
Su Huaijing, seemingly satisfied, no longer looked like a beast, nor a serpent, nor some main villain bent on destruction. Instead, he resembled a well-behaved pet, gazing up at his master with obedience.
He flicked out his tongue, lazily licking the corner of his lips as if savouring the aftertaste, then smiled. “Tangtang, did it feel good?”
Rong Tang remained silent for a long time before finally speaking in a quiet, sulky voice. “You’re completely unreasonable.”
Su Huaijing raised a brow. “Tangtang is the one being unreasonable.”
…The audacity!
Utter slander!
Rong Tang seethed. Just as he was about to argue, Su Huaijing leisurely remarked, “This is Fengyue House. You didn’t even pay me for the service, and I still helped you get off. And now you’re blaming me?”
The way he said it was so casual, so matter-of-fact. It left Rong Tang momentarily dazed, wondering if he had misheard.
He steadied himself, thought hard for a moment, then stared in disbelief. “What did you just say?!”
What service? Since when were you a courtesan?!
And what do you mean, ‘helped me get off’? If you hadn’t messed with me, would I even have reacted?!
The realisation hit him like a bolt of lightning. His lips pressed into a thin line, doubt flickering in his eyes as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
The physician had been clear. His condition was tied to his health. Until his weakness was cured, he was essentially incapable.
So how had it… worked?
Rong Tang’s frown deepened as Su Huaijing took a step closer.
Alarmed, Rong Tang instinctively backed away… only to hit the door behind him, the impact sending a dull ache up his spine.
For a split second, a trace of pain flashed across his face.
Su Huaijing froze, his gaze lingering on him for a moment before he let out a soft chuckle.
Then, stepping back to a comfortable distance, he drawled, “Tangtang wants to leave?”
Rong Tang stared at him warily. Su Huaijing wrinkled his nose slightly, then rolled his tongue over his lips as if nothing had happened. He poured himself a cup of cold tea and swished it around his mouth slowly.
Rong Tang’s face burned crimson, his ears scalding hot.
Su Huaijing said, “You can go out if you want. I don’t mind going back to drink either. But… you have to take me with you.”
Rong Tang: “…?”
He shook the golden chain on his wrist, glaring at Su Huaijing in frustration. He didn’t say a word, but the meaning was obvious: How the hell am I supposed to get rid of you?
Su Huaijing smiled slightly, loosening his disheveled hair before retying his crown. His movements were unhurried, almost elegant. The golden chain swayed lightly in the air.
Behind him, the moonlight stretched wide, casting him in a glow like a siren under the night sky, lazily resting on the shore… pure and naive, yet irresistibly luring travellers to their doom.
He spoke slowly, a mixture of innocence and malice: “The problem is, your scent is all over me now. When we go out, don’t you think they’ll be curious about what we did in here? Tangtang, you got me dirty.”
Rong Tang: …
You are completely, absolutely, unbelievably unreasonable!!!
