Song Pu’s face flushed as red as a monkey’s backside. He hurriedly shoved the large booklet back into the cabinet and slapped the door shut.
He took several deep breaths, lowered his gaze, and still… after hesitating for a moment, he ultimately could not resist reaching out his own wicked hand and began giving himself some very thorough “polishing and maintenance”.
While tending to himself, he tried to bolster his mental defences.
…It’s normal to react to this sort of thing. It’s pornography, after all. It’s perfectly normal for a man to react to pornography. Even male-on-male pornography…
What straight man reacts to homoerotic pictures?! Ahhh!!
Song Pu was already twenty, long past the confusion of adolescence. He could not claim to understand himself completely, but he at least had a fair grasp of his own mind and body.
In twenty years, he had never paid much attention to other men. Even when he had, it had been no more than crude comparisons of size, nothing remotely approaching desire for another man’s body. But what was this supposed to be? He had actually… actually watched gay pornography!!
Song Pu was thoroughly vexed with himself for that moment of idle curiosity, but regret was useless now. What he had just seen kept replaying in his mind. Even with his eyes shut, the vivid, almost sensuous imagery lingered before him. Heat rose in his head, spread through his limbs, a nameless warmth coursing through his entire body until he broke out in a hot sweat, flashes of white flickering through his mind.
All at once, he heard a sound. As he had reached a critical moment, he did not open his eyes. Only after it was over, once he had caught his breath, did he finally look up.
The instant he did, the flush on his face drained away, turning several shades paler. He stammered, “…Ge, what are you doing here?”
As he spoke, he snatched up the nearby quilt in acute embarrassment and dragged it over himself.
Song Lingyun was somewhat awkward as well. He silently withdrew the foot he had just stepped over the threshold with and shut the thin door. “You… tidy yourself up.”
Song Pu wished he could go back half an hour and give himself a solid knock on the head.
After taking a while to compose himself, he opened the door, still flushed. Song Lingyun stood outside holding a jade pillow. They looked at one another, then both averted their gaze in embarrassment.
In the end, Song Lingyun spoke first. “I knocked.”
Song Pu vaguely recalled hearing something, but at the time his thoughts had been such a jumble that he had paid no attention. He took the pillow from him, set it on the bed, and asked, “Have you had lunch?”
Song Lingyun smiled as usual. “Not yet. I came to eat with you.”
“In that case, I’ll have Denglong tell the kitchen to prepare a few more dishes.”
The kitchen was quick. Before long, Denglong arrived carrying two large food boxes.
There were not many principal members in the household, so the kitchen knew everyone’s tastes perfectly. Without Song Pu needing to say anything, the dishes served were all favourites of his and Song Lingyun’s.
“Shall we have some wine?” Song Lingyun asked.
Song Pu immediately shook his head. “I’d better not. I don’t hold my drink well.”
Song Lingyun smiled. “Have a little. I’ll keep an eye on you. I won’t let you get drunk.”
After a moment’s thought, Song Pu agreed, and Song Lingyun had Denglong fetch some wine.
Song Pu did not particularly enjoy drinking, but he had to admit that a little wine with a few suitable dishes made for a wonderfully leisurely and comfortable experience.
When the wine arrived, Song Pu poured a cup for Song Lingyun first and asked, “Ge, how’s your tolerance?”
“Better than yours, I should think.”
“How would you know? We’ve never compared.”
Seeing his reluctance to concede, Song Lingyun said, “At the very least, I’ve never been drunk.”
That left Song Pu speechless. He lowered his head and took a sip, but found it somewhat lacking, so he called Denglong over and asked him to fetch the Chun Ri Zui from the cellar, the one Tantai Yi had rewarded him with.
Song Lingyun lifted his gaze and glanced at him. “You’ve been hiding good wine away?”
Song Pu did not dare admit it was a gift and gave only a vague reply. When the wine arrived, he replaced Song Lingyun’s cup and asked expectantly, “How is it?”
Song Lingyun’s expression softened as he smiled. “It is indeed fine wine.”
“If you like it, drink more. I still have three jars left.”
Song Lingyun did not indulge. “I still need to go to the camp after lunch. A few cups will suffice.”
Perhaps because parting was near, there was little to say. Throughout the meal, the brothers spoke very little.
Even that evening, when Song Lingyun came again to dine with Song Pu, drank some of the same wine, and lay beside him after washing, the two remained largely silent.
Just as Song Pu was drifting off, Song Lingyun suddenly said, “A-Pu?”
The call startled him awake. “…What is it?”
After a pause, Song Lingyun asked, “Have you made any plans for the future?”
Song Pu hesitated, then replied, “Ge, you know me. I’m useless at most things, but excellent at eating. My expectations aren’t high. As long as I’ve enough to eat and wear and don’t have to suffer, that’s enough. The family already provides that.”
There was no internet here, no phone, no dramas for entertainment, but his background greatly lessened any dissatisfaction. He had food, comfort, loving parents, and a doting elder brother. Apart from having to work for the emperor, there were no real drawbacks.
Song Lingyun smiled. “That is already a high expectation.”
Song Pu always felt his brother carried many worries. Though he often smiled handsomely and openly in front of him, before others his face was usually devoid of expression.
After that brief exchange, Song Lingyun said no more. This time, Song Pu truly fell asleep.
Time passed swiftly. Before one knew it, several days slipped through one’s fingers.
On the day Song Lingyun departed for the northern frontier, he rose very early, before the third watch, mounted a swift horse, and left without even giving his family the chance to see him off.
As for the other source of Song Pu’s troubles, that man had actually begun attending court.
When Duke Song spoke of it, he was almost in tears of joy. “Your grandfather always said His Majesty was merely young and too fond of play, that when the time came he would turn over a new leaf. I never believed it. I never thought I would live to see His Majesty attend court.”
The foundation left to Tantai Yi by his father was exceptionally solid. Officials had been placed throughout every department, ensuring smooth operation. Even when the emperor did not attend court or review memorials or issue directives, the cabinet kept a firm grip on overall policy. If something urgent arose, Grand Secretary Ye and the other veteran ministers would personally enter the palace, speak gently, and persuade him to act. Tantai Yi would at least give them some face.
That was the main reason why the Liang court had not fallen into disorder despite his long absence from court.
Hearing this, Song Pu realised that even if he had not urged Tantai Yi to handle disaster relief, those ministers would have sought him out sooner or later. It had only ever been a matter of time.
Seen this way, Tantai Yi’s duties were not especially complicated, yet he still had the cheek to idle about.
The Liang court operated on a system of daily attendance. The late emperor had done the same. If one wished to surpass him, one had to begin with such details.
Only then did Tantai Yi understand what had felt off before. With just a few words, Song Pu had persuaded him into giving up his leisure.
Was he really so easily led?
He had intended to look through those spring illustrations together with Lord Song. He had barely read a few dozen pages before Song Pu borrowed them away.
Yet having lent them, he could hardly ask for them back. Nor did he wish to lose face by requesting them again from Uncle Qin, so the matter was left as it was.
After attending court for several days, the number of bluntly outspoken officials decreased, making the experience tolerable enough.
Song Pu’s rank was far too low for him to enter Lingxiao Hall, so he could only wait in the inner palace for Tantai Yi to finish the morning session.
Chang Jiangming, thoroughly bored, leaned in and whispered, “Ah-Pu, shall we go fish in that pond over there?”
Song Pu shot him a glare. “This is the palace, and you still want to fish?”
Chang Jiangming laughed awkwardly. “I’m just too bored.”
“Let’s play cards.” Song Pu took out a set of bamboo tiles from his pocket.
Chang Jiangming’s eyes lit up. “I know this! My brother taught me. He said you came up with it. You’re amazing.”
After asking a young eunuch for the time and learning there was still a while before court ended, Song Pu found a pavilion and, together with Chang Jiangming and Xie Nuoyu, began playing Dou Dizhu.
They had not been playing long when Chang Jiangming and Xie Nuoyu suddenly stood up and greeted someone behind him.
“Greetings, Your Highness Prince Gong.”
Song Pu turned to look and saw that it was indeed Prince Gong. Before he had even drawn near, Song Pu noticed his complexion was somewhat pale, his lips lacking colour, as though he had only just recovered from a serious illness. Coming back to himself, Song Pu rose with the others and offered his greeting.
Prince Gong approached, glanced at the bamboo tiles on the table, and curved his lips in a gentle smile. “I was merely passing by. I have no intention of disturbing you. Please continue. Pay me no mind.”
His temperament was mild and composed, and he possessed a remarkably handsome face, making him very easy to like. Though he resembled Tantai Yi by six or seven parts, they were entirely different types. When he smiled, one could feel warmth and sincerity, unlike Tantai Yi’s smile, which never reached his eyes and always seemed as though he might order your execution the next moment.
Chang Jiangming likely still carried some lingering fear of Tantai Yi. Even in the presence of such a gentle prince, he remained stiff and uneasy, misplaying repeatedly until the game could no longer continue.
Seeing Chang Jiangming like this, Song Pu glanced at Prince Gong, who sat to one side as though nothing were amiss, and asked, “Your Highness, are your injuries any better?”
Prince Gong smiled. “Thank you for your concern, Ah-Pu. I have fully recovered.”
He turned his gaze back to Song Pu, looking at him with a hint of something more, and said softly, “Now that His Majesty has begun holding court, have you ever thought of leaving the inner palace?”
Song Pu froze, clutching the bamboo tiles as he stared blankly for a moment before replying, “His Majesty has shown me immense favour. How could I possibly entertain such thoughts?”
Prince Gong looked at him, then turned his head to Chang Jiangming and Xie Nuoyu. “I have something to say to Ah-Pu in private. Would you two mind stepping aside for a moment?”
“Please, Your Highness,” they replied in unison.
No sooner had they spoken than they rose together and moved several paces away from the pavilion, leaving ample space for the two of them.
Song Pu very much wanted to ask whether Prince Gong thought his injuries were not severe enough, coming so often into Tantai Yi’s territory like this, but he could not bring himself to say it. He could only look at him and ask, “What does Your Highness wish to say?”
Prince Gong’s amber eyes fixed deeply on him. Within that gentle warmth, a trace of restrained feeling surfaced. He lowered his voice. “Your brother and I are close friends. As for you, Ah-Pu, I hold you in great regard as well. If you wish to leave His Majesty’s side, I can intercede on your behalf.”
Song Pu was somewhat startled, and at the same time deeply wary. “…Why is Your Highness so willing to go to such lengths for me?”
Prince Gong gave a bitter smile. “You have seen it yourself. His Majesty punishes those around him at the slightest displeasure. Even I have not been spared. His temperament is unpredictable. Those who serve at his side have been replaced again and again, and not one has lasted a full year. If you remain by His Majesty’s side, I fear…”
He did not finish. He merely furrowed his brow slightly, his gaze resting on Song Pu with something half-revealed, tinged with pity.
His features resembled Tantai Yi’s by six or seven parts, but his contours were clearer and more open, making him exceptionally handsome. Moreover, the way he looked at Song Pu was rather overt. Anyone inclined that way might well have been moved. But Song Pu prided himself on being straight. Despite that small mishap a few days ago, he stubbornly held fast to that identity. Faced with Prince Gong’s gaze, he felt little beyond heightened vigilance.
“…Your Highness need not trouble yourself so. His Majesty treats me extremely well. None of what you have said has ever occurred.”
The attempt at charm fell flat. Prince Gong’s expression drew in slightly. Hearing this, he lifted his brows a fraction and spoke more gently, “Then it seems I have worried unnecessarily. Zhiyun is now far away in the northern frontier. You are his most cherished younger brother, so naturally I must take extra care of you. If you encounter any trouble in future, so long as it is within my ability, you may come to me.”
“Perhaps I shall never have such an opportunity.”
Taking sides was not something to be done lightly, so Song Pu was extremely cautious and left himself no retreat.
Only at this point did he realise that Prince Gong had already shifted their forms of address to the familiar “I” and “you”.
In this era, such forms were reserved for those in especially close relationships, yet Prince Gong had so easily lowered himself to adopt them.
Song Pu felt no particular dislike towards him, but neither did he feel any fondness. This sort of subtle manoeuvring only made him faintly resistant.
Seeing that he remained unmoved, Prince Gong was about to continue when Song Pu asked instead, “Did Your Highness come to the palace to see His Majesty?”
Prince Gong changed his words at once. “I came to visit the Empress Dowager. She caught a chill last night and has a slight fever today, so I entered the palace to pay my respects.”
“With Your Highness’s filial devotion, Her Majesty will surely come to no harm.”
Prince Gong smiled. “I shall take that as your good blessing, Ah-Pu.”
“His Majesty should soon be finished with the morning court,” Song Pu added. “Your Highness knows his temperament is unpredictable, and he is prone to anger. He is not easy to serve. Your injuries have only just recovered, so it would be best not to run into him.”
Prince Gong fell silent for a moment, then smiled. “Then I must thank Ah-Pu for your concern.”
Song Pu rose to see him off, but his knees suddenly gave way, and he stumbled straight into Prince Gong’s arms.
Prince Gong caught him at once and said gently, “How can you be so careless, Ah-Pu? That makes twice today, does it not?”
Song Pu himself was bewildered. He quickly pulled free from Prince Gong’s embrace and said, “Many thanks to Your Highness for your assistance.”
Prince Gong sighed softly. “With you being so careless, how could Zhiyun have felt at ease sending you into the palace to serve His Majesty?”
Song Pu had no reply.
He escorted Prince Gong out of the pavilion. The latter still seemed to want to say something more, but a young eunuch approached and said something to him. He paused, then said to Song Pu, “I must return to my residence. Another day, I shall invite you over.”
Without waiting for a response, he left in haste.
Xie Nuoyu came over to Song Pu’s side and asked, “What was going on between you and Prince Gong just now?”
Song Pu shook his head, not particularly inclined to speak.
Xie Nuoyu hesitated. After they sat down again and picked up the bamboo tiles, he still could not help saying in a low voice, “Just now, I saw something flash past, and then you fell.”
“…What?” Song Pu did not quite understand what he meant.
Before Xie Nuoyu could say more, they heard Cao Xi’s resonant voice call out, “His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!”
They turned to look and saw Tantai Yi striding towards them in high spirits.
“Lord Song, come with me to Chunhe Palace,” Tantai Yi said as soon as he reached Song Pu.
Song Pu’s nerves immediately tightened.
Tantai Yi glanced at Xie Nuoyu and the others, a trace of impatience showing in his eyes, and said to them, “From today onwards, Chang Qing, Xie Qing, and Li Zongyi need not enter the palace again. I will summon you when I have need of you.”
At these words, Chang Jiangming and Xie Nuoyu’s eyes lit up at once.
Song Pu, by contrast, felt his vision go dark, a buzzing filling his head.
