Pei Jingyi knew exactly what this was—the “settling of accounts.” His eyes lit up instantly, brimming with an eager, restless excitement. He couldn’t help but lick his lips.
Shen Jun caught the look from the corner of his eye. A faint, cold sneer touched his lips, but he said nothing and bowed his departure.
Gu Huaiyu walked slowly to the center of the courtyard, standing beneath the shadow of the winter plums. Without turning around, he commanded: “Kneel.”
Pei Jingyi dropped instantly. His knees hit the stone path with a dull thud. He shuffled forward a few paces on his knees, his tall frame looming close behind Gu Huaiyu. His breathing grew subtly ragged.
Gu Huaiyu still didn’t turn. “Bind him.”
As soon as the words left his lips, two Iron Eagle Guards emerged silently from the shadows. They held heavy, dark ropes. With practiced movements, they jerked Pei Jingyi’s arms behind his back, winding the rope tight, coil after coil.
Pei Jingyi didn’t struggle. Instead, he cooperated, thrusting his chest out to let them bind him. His eyes remained fixed on Gu Huaiyu, a smoldering fire deep within them. As the ropes bit into his muscle, his breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving. He was already feeling the thrill before they had even begun.
Only then did Gu Huaiyu turn around. He leaned down slowly, his fingers resting on Pei Jingyi’s jaw. His fingertips traced the line of that tense chin, mocking and playful, like one might stroke a dog.
“General Pei, you were quite fond of nectar, weren’t you?” Gu Huaiyu murmured. “Today, this Chancellor shall let you drink your fill.”
Pei Jingyi stared at the face so close to his own. He poked out the tip of his tongue to lick his lips. “Truly?”
Gu Huaiyu didn’t care what filthy thoughts the man was harboring. He simply clapped his hands. “Bring the wine.”
Servants of the estate immediately brought out jar after jar. Over a dozen small jars were lined up on a nearby stone table. The mouths were covered in fine gauze, and the scent of the alcohol was so potent it was almost sharp enough to burn the throat.
Pei Jingyi let out a disappointed “tsk.” So, it was actual wine.
Gu Huaiyu picked up a jar and unsealed it. He held it by the rim, looking down at Pei Jingyi. “Open your mouth.”
Pei Jingyi laughed and tilted his head back, opening his mouth without hesitation.
Gu Huaiyu tilted his wrist—Splash!
The wine poured down like a waterfall, drenching Pei Jingyi’s face and flooding his upturned mouth and nose. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, but because the pour was so sudden and fierce, he couldn’t even cough. He could only let out muffled grunts through his nose. His bound chest heaved, the straining muscles throwing the wet fabric into sharp relief.
A second jar followed immediately. Gu Huaiyu fed him the wine with effortless grace.
One jar after another. By the time they reached the end, Pei Jingyi was soaked through. Wine snaked down his jaw and throat. His waistband was drenched, the wet fabric clinging to his skin in a darkened, almost lewd display.
It wasn’t until the seventh jar was empty that Gu Huaiyu finally showed mercy and stopped. He looked down. “Does it taste good?”
Pei Jingyi had a high tolerance, but he had never drunk like this. His handsome face was flushed red from the onslaught. His voice was a wrecked rasp. “Delicious.”
Gu Huaiyu wasn’t about to let him off with just a little discomfort. He reached out, his fingers pinching Pei Jingyi’s hot earlobe, rubbing it slowly. “Why are you always so disobedient?”
“Do you know how they break stubborn beasts in Eastern Liao?” Gu Huaiyu’s fingers suddenly applied pressure, making Pei Jingyi grunt in pain.
Pei Jingyi’s breathing grew audibly labored. He stared straight at Gu. “The herders… they pierce the beast’s ear. If it doesn’t listen… they pull.”
Seeing that he understood, Gu Huaiyu’s lips curved into a slight smile. He turned and beckoned. “Bring a gold needle.”
A servant hurried off and returned in an instant, holding a long, slender gold needle that glinted coldly.
Pei Jingyi wasn’t unfamiliar with men having pierced ears. His home in Bingzhou bordered various nomadic tribes; those foreign warriors were rough and fierce, often wearing gold rings or bone needles in their ears as decorations and marks of bravery.
He didn’t panic. Instead, he laughed hoarsely. “Does this mean… everyone will know I am the Chancellor’s property?”
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, Gu Huaiyu moved. No numbing, no hesitation—the gold needle was driven straight through.
“Hiss…!”
Veins bulged on Pei Jingyi’s forehead, but he forced the cry of pain back down. Instead, he forced a reckless, wanton grin. “The Chancellor is truly gentle.”
Gu Huaiyu ignored him. He turned and gave a few instructions to a servant, who returned shortly with an exquisite brocade box.
He opened the box in front of Pei Jingyi. Inside was a delicate earring—gilded with a dangling pearl, the center of the flower set with a vivid, blood-red coral bead. It was strikingly feminine.
The smirk finally froze on Pei Jingyi’s face. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a difficult, heavy swallow.
