Song Pu stiffened and cast a discreet glance. Sure enough, it was standing upright. He had not paid it much attention before, but now that Tantai Yi had pointed it out so bluntly, a trace of embarrassment rose within him. “…Your Majesty need not concern yourself with it. Let it subside on its own. My body is not yet fully developed; it is best to preserve my vital essence.”
Tantai Yi stared at it for a while, until Song Pu, mortified beyond measure, clamped his legs together to block that unreasonably embarrassing gaze.
Deprived of the sight of that small tent, Tantai Yi blinked once and suddenly said, “Minister Song has helped me relieve myself several times. I ought to return the favour.”
Song Pu jolted at once. If it was this, then he could accept it!
He said shyly, “Does Your Majesty truly intend to…?”
His hand had already gone to his waistband, ready to loosen his trousers, when he heard Tantai Yi say, “However, since Minister Song is shy of baring himself before me, I will not force you. I shall take my leave. Minister Song may settle it himself.”
With that, Tantai Yi gave him a faint smile, got out of bed, and left.
Song Pu: “…”
That dog emperor, did he think himself especially considerate? Huh??
Song Pu thumped the bed in frustration, only for the rebound to make his fist ache sharply. Clutching his hand, he shed a few silent tears.
He did not masturbate. One drop of semen was worth ten of blood. If he relieved himself just because of this, then he might truly become as weak and frail as that dog emperor claimed. He could not let him have his way.
He endured it for a while, waiting until his little brother subsided of its own accord before climbing out of bed.
Tantai Yi had disappeared somewhere. Since there had been no summons, Song Pu and Chang Jiangming were free to do as they pleased.
The summer retreat backed onto a towering mountain. According to the steward, it was called Wangyue Mountain. When the moon rose, it would appear at the summit, so close it seemed one could pluck the stars and moon with one’s bare hands, hence the name.
A stream flowed down from the mountain through the grounds, cool and crystal clear. Song Pu called Chang Jiangming and the others to go and play in the water.
Chang Jiangming grumbled, “We’re not children. What’s so fun about water?”
“Let’s see if we can catch some fish,” Song Pu said.
He borrowed Li Zongyi’s sword, shaved down a slender bamboo rod, tied a fine line to it, then heated an embroidery needle until red-hot and bent it into a hook.
He dug up several earthworms from the fresh soil, cut one in half and threaded it onto the hook, placing the rest into a bamboo tube for later use.
Li Zongyi took back his sword and carefully wiped it several times with a cloth.
Seeing this, Song Pu remembered that Li Zongyi cherished his sword like a wife. The fact that he had not struck him for using it to cut worms made Song Pu feel rather apologetic. “Zongyi-ge, sorry. I used it without thinking.”
Li Zongyi shook his head and put away the cloth. “It’s nothing.”
Chang Jiangming, on the other hand, wore a rather conflicted expression. “Ah-Pu, when did you learn this sort of thing?”
What he really wanted to say was that those things were disgusting, and yet he had dared to grab them barehanded.
He spent a full half an hour pondering when his once-familiar companion had become so fearless.
Only when Song Pu truly hauled a small fish out of the stream did the group feel an indescribable excitement.
Before long, the four of them sat in a row along the bank, each holding a fishing rod.
Fishing was a man’s romance.
Song Pu’s father had always loved fishing. Even in wind and rain, he would don a straw hat and head to the river. Even if he came back soaked and ran a high fever, he would still go out again the next day. For this, he had been scolded countless times by Song Pu’s mother, yet never changed.
In truth, Song Pu resembled his father more, whether in habits or interests. As a result, whenever trouble arose at home, he would be dragged into it and scolded along with him, leaving the household in constant uproar.
The stream here was so clear, and evidently few people came to fish in it, that the fish and shrimp were particularly plump. Song Pu easily caught several fish about the length of a finger and two fingers wide. For such a small stream, this was already quite rare.
Once he had gathered a small basinful, he stopped. Fish and shrimp were fattest in spring and summer, but one could not catch everything in one go. One had to think of sustainability.
He never ate game; the smell alone made him uncomfortable. But fish and shrimp were readily available delicacies, and even cooked simply, they were wonderfully fresh.
He assigned a few people to fetch firewood, bamboo skewers, oil, salt, and chilli powder.
Fortunately, this world had chilli powder and pepper. Chilli was used as a normal seasoning, while pepper was considered medicinal, though still easy to obtain.
They built a makeshift stove, skewered the cleaned fish, and fixed the skewers into the soil beside the stones to roast.
Chang Jiangming and the others watched eagerly. “Ah-Pu, when can we eat?”
“Still early,” Song Pu said.
As he spoke, he sprinkled salt, pepper, and chilli powder over the fish, turning them one by one to continue roasting.
“I can already smell the aroma,” Li Zongyi said solemnly.
Xie Nuoyu sniffed and smiled. “So can I.”
“Still early,” Song Pu repeated. “Keep an eye on them. Don’t let them burn.”
Xie Nuoyu agreed and took the initiative to turn the fish.
Song Pu dusted off his hands and went to sit by the stream, dipping his feet into the water.
The stream flowed down from the mountain, cool to the bone. The moment he put his feet in, the chill ran straight through him, refreshing him entirely.
He let out a long breath, finally releasing the pent-up frustration of the past few days.
Before long, Chang Jiangming brought over a fish. “Ah-Pu, I think it’s done. Have a taste.”
Song Pu took it and asked, “Why don’t you try it yourself? Afraid?”
“It smells wonderful,” Chang Jiangming admitted, “I just don’t dare eat it.”
Song Pu snorted. “You don’t trust me.”
He lowered his head and took a bite. The small fish had few bones; the flesh was rich and tender, melting on the tongue with the heat of chilli and the bite of pepper.
“Delicious,” Song Pu praised sincerely.
“Really?” Chang Jiangming asked.
“Of course. Would I lie to you?”
Convinced, Chang Jiangming hurried back to grab a skewer and began eating. Seeing that Song Pu was nearly finished, he brought him several more.
“Don’t eat them all,” Song Pu said. “I’ll take a few to His Majesty.”
Chang Jiangming froze. “This sort of rough fare is fine for us, but for His Majesty? What if it upsets his stomach…”
He shuddered, not daring to imagine the consequences.
“His Majesty seems sturdier than any of us,” Song Pu said. “If you’re all fine, he will be too.”
“…So you’re using us to test for poison?” Chang Jiangming laughed.
Song Pu denied it. “How could that be? It’s all edible. I’m just practising to see if it turns out well.”
Chang Jiangming suddenly fixed his gaze on him, looking him up and down.
Sensing something off about his look, Song Pu turned his head. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Chang Jiangming gave a rather forced cough. “Earlier wasn’t the right moment, so I forgot to ask. You really do share a bed with His Majesty?”
“Yes,” Song Pu said calmly. “His Majesty likes to listen to my storytelling at night, so we simply sleep together.”
“I thought as much,” Chang Jiangming said. “His Majesty hasn’t taken consorts, and there have been some unpleasant rumours. But if those rumours were true, I don’t think His Majesty would ever set his sights on Yonghe-ge’s face.”
Song Pu tried to recall Shen Yonghe’s appearance, but it was not his own memory, and no matter how he tried, he could only retain the impression that Shen Yonghe was very handsome.
As Chang Jiangming continued, Song Pu grew more and more curious.
Putting on a serious expression, he asked in a low voice, “Tell me, who looks better, me or Yonghe-ge?”
Chang Jiangming froze for a moment, then answered tactfully, “You both have your own merits… Yonghe-ge is the sort who dazzles at first glance. As for you, Ah-Pu, you’re the sort elders would praise.”
He added, “Honestly, I rather wish His Majesty liked men. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have to be so on edge.”
Song Pu: ?
Song Pu burst out laughing. “So if His Majesty liked men, you wouldn’t be afraid?”
Chang Jiangming said righteously, “If His Majesty liked men, he would surely treat us more tenderly.”
Song Pu laughed so hard he doubled over. “Young man, that’s a very dangerous way of thinking.”
Seeing him laugh so much, Chang Jiangming grew annoyed. “I’m serious. What are you laughing at?”
Song Pu finished laughing and almost blurted out that the dog emperor was extremely well-endowed, enough to make him afraid to say such things again, but just as the words reached his lips, his heart skipped a beat and he swallowed them back down.
A truly straight man would not know such things about men, especially in a place like Liang where customs were conservative. If he said it aloud, he would certainly arouse suspicion.
He gave a small cough, thankful he had caught himself in time, and changed his words. “You should be glad His Majesty doesn’t like men. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a court official now, but a male consort in the imperial harem.”
Chang Jiangming actually imagined it, only to shudder at the thought of facing Tantai Yi day and night. “No, no, I couldn’t.”
Song Pu laughed again. Sometimes he thought himself foolish, but Chang Jiangming was just as much of a simpleton.
Then something occurred to him, and he paused. He dried his damp feet, put his shoes back on, washed his hands, and returned to finish all the skewers of fish, leaving none for Tantai Yi.
Chang Jiangming did not question it. It was one thing for them to eat such coarse fare, but quite another to present it to the emperor. If anything went wrong, they would be the ones to suffer. Better to avoid trouble.
After finishing the grilled fish, they were all sweating. Song Pu suggested, “Why don’t we bathe here?”
Li Zongyi was more cautious and instinctively wanted to refuse, but Chang Jiangming agreed first. “Let’s! I’m drenched in sweat.”
With that, he took the lead in stripping off his clothes.
Li Zongyi and Xie Nuoyu had no choice but to follow suit.
Song Pu watched them with a sly look. As expected, they were reluctant to remove their trousers, so he coaxed, “How can you not take them off? A bath means taking everything off. We’re all men, what’s there to be shy about? Take them off, otherwise you’ll have to put on wet trousers later. Look, I’ve already taken mine off!”
With that, he led by example and stripped completely bare.
Encouraged by him, the others muddle-headedly took off their trousers as well.
Song Pu swept them with a glance and immediately felt thoroughly satisfied.
Sure enough, he still ranked among the best. That damned dog emperor, what right did he have to compare? He himself was the proper standard.
He had barely reassured himself for a few moments when a cool voice sounded from behind.
“In broad daylight, Minister Song has quite the refined taste.”
