“Alright. Do as you please. I’ll go take a look. Don’t spill the beans.” Youxiang waved her hand casually, acting as if this place were her own territory. She sashayed upstairs, moving lightly and cautiously to the room next door. She pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Two people had been sleeping in the room. Startled by her presence, they woke up abruptly, grabbing their quilts to cover themselves in a panic.
Yūka froze. Before they could speak, she flicked two silver coins at them, striking their pressure points. Only then did she notice in surprise that both naked sleepers were men. One had delicate features, looking about thirteen or fourteen—a boy who seemed almost too young to be there. The other was a man who appeared malnourished and frail, clearly someone who frequented pleasure houses and indulged excessively.
Youxiang frowned in disgust. Ignoring the two men staring wide-eyed, she walked to a wall, pressed her ear against it, then fetched a teacup to cup around her ear as she listened.
Next door, Murong Qiufeng sat in a chair, several scrolls of paintings laid out beside her. Across from her, an unremarkable middle-aged man in a light-colored robe was absorbed in painting. His expression shifted between frowns and occasional smiles, and he would occasionally steal glances at Murong Qiufeng, who was bent over her work. What he was thinking remained unclear.
Murong Qiufeng stared at the scroll in her hands, her breathing slightly hurried. Fortunately, his face was almost entirely hidden. Otherwise, anyone watching would surely see his face flushed crimson with embarrassment and anger.
Those scrolls contained nothing but erotic paintings—male erotic paintings, at that.
Murong Qiufeng’s so-called “study” at the brothel wasn’t about experimenting with a courtesan or having two courtesans perform for his viewing. Instead, he sought out the brothel’s specialized erotic painter, instructing him to create works according to his specifications.
Out of boredom, the painter handed him several more subdued erotic scrolls. Yet what the painter deemed subdued still seemed wildly explicit to him. Paradoxically, he felt both shy and curious. He paused and peered, and soon had finished viewing all the scrolls.
His entire body felt like it was on fire. He kept unconsciously substituting himself and Shangguan Ye for the figures in the paintings.
“Master, the erotic paintings you requested are complete. Please review them and let me know if they meet your satisfaction.” The middle-aged man finally set down his brush and called out to Murong Qiufeng.
Murong Qiufeng snapped back to reality, hastily setting aside the scrolls as if they were scalding hot. He then walked over.
A sheet of white paper lay spread out on the long table. On it was a segment of an erotic painting. Per Murong Qiufeng’s instructions, it was to be as suggestive as possible while remaining unambiguous.
The artist proved quite clever. He had grasped Murong Qiufeng’s intent the moment the request was made. Taking liberties, he had even added fiery annotations in the margins. Yet the hidden parts of the two men in the erotic scene were subtly and artfully concealed, leaving ample room for imagination.
Upon reading those annotations, Murong Qiufeng flushed even deeper. She hadn’t realized such matters could be taught through words. She inquired, “Is there a book entirely composed of text?”
The artist paused, then observed Murong Qiufeng’s visibly uncomfortable demeanor. He chuckled nonchalantly. “Of course there is. Please wait a moment, my lady.” With that, he walked over to the bookshelf on the other side to retrieve a volume.
In the next room, Youxiang had listened for ages without hearing a sound, growing anxious. Suddenly, she caught snatches of conversation. From those few words, she instantly pieced together the cause, the course of events, and the conclusion. Covering her mouth, she couldn’t help but giggle, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
So the young master came here to study… erotic paintings. How utterly amusing. Wonder what expression the prince will have when he finds out.
Murong Qiufeng didn’t linger long. Soon, he slipped away stealthily, carrying a small bundle.
Returning to the Prime Minister’s residence, he gave a brief order before secluding himself in his room for a long while.
Youxiang had also returned to the residence long ago. She was still chuckling to herself, yet also curious about what Murong Qiufeng had brought back. Knowing he was likely studying, she didn’t disturb him. Only when Shangguan Ye returned at lunchtime did Murong Qiufeng reluctantly change clothes and join him for the meal, his expression unchanged.
Shangguan Ye seemed preoccupied with case matters and didn’t ask what Murong Qiufeng had been doing that day. This actually brought Murong Qiufeng some relief.
Little did he know, Shangguan Ye had already figured it out and had been amused by it all day.
Adopting a studious mindset, Murong Qiufeng shut himself in his room until evening. He finally finished studying several books and some blueprints. He even unconsciously sketched a drawing, where the figures naturally and unknowingly transformed into himself and Shangguan Ye.
Gazing at the ambiguous poses of the two figures on the paper, scenes from erotic paintings flashed through his mind. Memories of tender moments with Shangguan Ye mingled with them.
That evening, Murong Qiufeng didn’t wait for Shangguan Ye. He finished his meal early and retired to bed.
He simply couldn’t face Shangguan Ye calmly. Whenever he thought of him, his mind was flooded with those erotic paintings and those fiery, explicit descriptions.
Shangguan Ye returned very late. He too understood the unspoken tension and refrained from teasing him. After washing up, he too went to bed. Yet his mood seemed exceptionally good. Even in sleep, his face was etched with a smile. From behind, he contentedly wrapped his arms around his bashful lover and drifted into a deep slumber.
The recent case had indeed left him headache-inducing and irritable. But every time he looked at his own little treasure, everything else seemed insignificant. His heart felt an unprecedented lightness and contentment.
Murong Qiufeng, however, was not so at ease. Though he had fallen asleep, his dreams were tormented all night by those erotic paintings. He dreamt of doing with Shangguan Ye the very things depicted in those paintings. Waking in the morning, he discovered the sheets and quilt damp with moisture. His face flushed crimson for a long while as he agonized over how to get up and how to deal with the bedding.
Had Shangguan Ye noticed? Suddenly filled with regret, he cursed himself for looking at those erotic paintings in the first place. He’d brought this torment upon himself. Now his mind was utterly consumed by those images, leaving him in a state of utter discomfort.
Just as he was deep in worry, Shangguan Ye suddenly pushed open the door and entered.
Murong Qiufeng looked up to see him stride in, energetic and dashing. Surprise and tension instantly flooded his face. He instinctively pulled the quilt higher, looking at him guiltily. “Why are you still here? Didn’t you go to court?”
“Hmph. You forgot I’m recovering from an injury.” Shangguan Ye walked over with a smile, studying him intently. “But what about you? You’ve been acting strange since yesterday. Even started sleeping in.”
“Uh… nothing. Just… just feeling a bit tired these past few days. You… you go ahead with your work. Don’t mind me. I’ll sleep a little longer.” Murong Qiufeng stammered guiltily, his lies riddled with holes so glaring he wished he could bite his own tongue off.
Shangguan Ye raised an eyebrow, moving closer to the bedside. He bent down and reached out to touch his face. “Really? You’re not sick, are you?”
Murong Qiufeng flushed crimson, his nerves fraying. He scrambled deeper under the covers, clutching the quilt tightly. “N-no. I-I…”
“Why are you so nervous? Don’t tell me… you’ve done something to betray me? Have you been cheating?”
Murong Qiufeng’s mouth twitched. His flushed embarrassment instantly turned to angry indignation. “What kind of things are always going through your head?”
“Things about you, of course. Hmm. Isn’t that right? What’s hidden under that quilt? Let me see.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing. You should leave first. I need to get up and get dressed.”
“Hmph. You’re not exactly naked. What are you afraid of? Besides, I’ve seen you naked before. Looks like you really are hiding something.” Shangguan Ye narrowed his eyes and reached out to pull back the covers.
