The climax came too abruptly. He slumped into the chair, his strength completely spent, his very fingertips glowing with a weak, feverish red.
Once his breathing stabilized, Gu Huaiyu realized his energy had been drained. His limbs felt like lead, and he didn’t even have the strength to stand. Frowning slightly, he folded the silk handkerchief into a messy bundle and tossed it toward the furthest corner of the table. He felt a sudden, visceral revulsion at touching it for even a second longer.
After a moment of recovery, he moved to stand and call for a bath, but a familiar, beastly voice suddenly rang out from behind the door.
“My Lord, I’m coming in.”
Before he could speak, the carved door was pushed open. Pei Jingyi strode in, followed by a young girl who looked to be about sixteen. The girl clutched a pipa to her chest, her face as pale as paper, though she forced a stiff, practiced smile.
Gu Huaiyu gripped the armrests and slowly sat upright, his spine as straight as a spear, as if the previous softness had been nothing but an illusion. His expression was frigid, his voice carrying a trace of lingering raspiness. “Did I give you permission to enter?”
Pei Jingyi’s nose twitched. The scent in the room was thicker, hotter, and more enticing than usual. His gaze swept over Gu Huaiyu’s flushed eyes, his damp lips, and the slight rise and fall of his chest. He grinned, showing his white teeth. “I truly have an urgent matter, which is why I took the liberty of disturbing you, My Lord.”
Gu Huaiyu shifted his gaze to the girl with the pipa. “An urgent matter?”
Pei Jingyi took a deep breath of the warm, metallic air and licked his lips. “I wish to release her, but I require your approval.”
Gu Huaiyu narrowed his eyes. “What does that have to do with me?”
The girl suddenly looked up, her voice soft. “I was brought from Yangzhou by Magistrate Qian. He ordered me to… serve the Lord Chancellor well.”
With that one sentence, Gu Huaiyu understood everything.
Magistrate Qian’s “fine horse” wasn’t a horse at all; it was a “Yangzhou Slender Horse.”
T/N: “Slender Horse” (Shoumà) was a derogatory term for young girls bought from poor families and trained in music and arts to be sold as concubines or high-end prostitutes.
To treat human beings like livestock for trade—he didn’t know what heartless soul had come up with such a name. This Magistrate Qian had a mediocre record of governance, yet he was an expert at squeezing the people dry and oppressing the commoners.
Gu Huaiyu had seen many officials like him. He gave a soft clap of his hands, and an Iron Eagle Guard immediately appeared at the door, awaiting orders.
“Remove Magistrate Qian from his post and investigate him,” Gu Huaiyu ordered dispassionately. “Send him to the capital for trial immediately.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the opulent treasures in the room. “Search this residence thoroughly. Let’s see exactly how many ‘fine things’ he has hidden away.”
The guard took his orders and left; clearly, he was well-versed in such tasks.
Pei Jingyi’s eyebrows shot up. He realized the misunderstanding he’d had earlier. He didn’t care about the magistrate’s fate, but his eyes flickered toward the bundled silk in the corner of the table. His tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, and he laughed with an inscrutable expression.
The girl’s eyes widened, her body trembling. She clearly hadn’t expected things to turn out this way. Gu Huaiyu had dealt with countless corrupt officials and was experienced in cleaning up the aftermath. Most of these girls bought from training houses were sold by their own parents under permanent contracts.
Looking at Pei Jingyi, it was clear the general didn’t know how to handle such things. If the girl were simply released, she would have no one to rely on. She would either starve or fall back into another pit of fire.
“Since Magistrate Qian wanted you to serve me,” Gu Huaiyu began, his voice steady and calm, “you shall work at the Chancellor’s Estate. Your monthly salary will be two taels. You will sign a temporary contract and remain a free citizen.”
The girl froze. Her eyes turned red, and she suddenly threw herself to the ground, kowtowing in joy. “Thank you for your grace, My Lord! I will work hard!”
Gu Huaiyu gave a small nod and rubbed his temples. “All of you, leave. I am tired.”
The girl hurriedly agreed, picked up her pipa, and retreated.
Pei Jingyi, however, didn’t budge. He slowly sauntered over to the table.
“Get—”
Before Gu Huaiyu could finish the word “out,” Pei Jingyi’s hand shot out and snatched the crumpled silk from the corner.
Something warm and not yet dry smeared against Pei Jingyi’s finger. He looked as though he had never seen such a thing before. He brought his finger to his nose, took a light sniff, and then looked up at Gu Huaiyu.
“My Lord, what is this?” He licked the corner of his lip, his tone as sincere as a student asking about a difficult text. “It smells sweet. Is it… edible?”
“…”
Gu Huaiyu’s pupils shook, yet he managed to maintain a mask of indifference. He picked up a teacup and took a sip, saying tonelessly, “Take it out and throw it away. It’s filthy.”
Pei Jingyi dropped into a crouch before him, making himself shorter than the seated Chancellor. He looked up at Gu Huaiyu’s jaw with a look of mock devotion.
“How could the Lord Chancellor’s nectar be considered filthy?” he whispered coaxingly.
Gu Huaiyu looked down at him, the urge to kill nearly overwhelming. He spoke one word at a time. “Get. Out.”
Pei Jingyi stood up obediently, still clutching the silk in his hand. He took a few steps away, then suddenly looked back, bringing the cloth to his nose again for another deep inhale.
“Don’t worry, My Lord. I won’t sneak a taste.”
