“Shocking! Wei King’s Heir Ji Yanqing caught knocking on a widow’s door at night! Is this a twist of human nature or a collapse of morality?!”
“Men weep, women wail! Can Ye City ever recover? Wei King’s Heir runs rampant, abducting a cross-dressing loli in broad daylight!”
“Why do screams echo from the city outskirts at midnight? Why do elders and children wake in fright? Could it be tied to Heir Ji leaving the city at the hour of the Pig?”
…
Ji Yanqing galloped toward Yuegui Studio, the streets alive with storytellers at tea stalls and taverns, vividly recounting his scandals to cheering crowds.
Not long ago, there was a version involving him and eighteen burly men, but its outrageous content led to unwanted advances from men, forcing its ban.
The autumn breeze carried a chill. Ji Qingyan, wrapped in a red cloak, sat shyly in front of Ji Yanqing on the horse, her flushed cheeks burning, her heart uneasy. She stole glances at him from the corner of her eye.
She hadn’t planned to share a horse, but Ji Yanqing insisted Ye City was “short on steeds,” with only old or lame horses in the Wei King’s Mansion, barely able to trot without wheezing.
By comparison, his Night-Illuminating Jade Lion was “passable.”
Holding the reins, Ji Yanqing gently encircled her waist, his touch devoid of impropriety. His brow was sharp, his peach-blossom eyes clear and pure, often meeting her gaze.
After a few exchanges, Ji Qingyan’s shyness deepened, wishing she could bury her face in her collar, barely daring to look at him.
“Miss Qingyan, relax a bit. Even if I wanted a deep exchange, I wouldn’t choose horseback,” Ji Yanqing said with a smile.
Her face flushed crimson, her beauty stunning. She murmured a faint “mm,” her body tensing, unconvinced.
His jade-white hands rested lightly on her waist, never straying further, gentle without lechery.
Compared to the rogue who’d humiliated her in the dungeon, this Ji Yanqing seemed possessed.
‘Is he really not interested in me, or does he truly have a fetish for widows, cross-dressers, or… that?’ Ji Qingyan wondered.
A high-ranking heir like him, with countless beauties, might develop twisted tastes over time. For now, she seemed safe.
‘Maybe he’s a gentleman…’ She shook her head, dismissing the absurd thought.
While Ji Qingyan wrestled with her thoughts, Ji Yanqing was equally preoccupied, battling a relentless inner voice.
[Foolish woman, your innate dagger can’t be suppressed. Just maintain your posture, lean closer, and spook the Jade Lion…]
The narrator’s seductive whispers, the faint fragrance of her hair, and the silken touch of her skin tested even a brothel-frequenting heir like Ji Yanqing, stirring his heart.
A quarter-hour later, they arrived at Yuegui Studio in west Ye City. The two-story building was quaint, exuding a subtle fragrance.
The Bronze Sparrow Chamber’s rapid rise had crushed many shops, especially in women’s goods. Cheongsams, stockings, high heels, eyebrow pencils, fairy wands—their variety gave them an unmatched edge.
But there were exceptions.
Yuegui Studio, a century-old rouge shop, boasted unmatched powder-blending artistry. Its “Moonlit Frost” and “Peach Blossom Tears” were peerless masterpieces.
With reputation and skill, Yuegui Studio held its ground in the women’s market against the chamber’s onslaught.
As the Jade Lion paused, Ji Qingyan leapt off, her exposed calves fair and slender, tempting one to caress them.
Renowned far and wide, Yuegui Studio was bustling with customers—scholars and beauties mingling in laughter. Amid the harmony, a jarring scene unfolded.
A white-robed dandy, fan in hand, cornered a delicate girl, backed by three or four burly Gathering Spirit Realm thugs—lowly even by martial standards.
‘Seriously? Copying my “abducting maidens”‘ look? Ji Yanqing thought, recognizing the girl with twin buns as Su Ningyue’s maid, Tongyue.
“Oh, Little Prince! This humble woman failed to greet you—please don’t take offense,” the shopkeeper, Chu, cooed.
“Shopkeeper Chu, still so charming in your prime. Aren’t you afraid I’ll bring friends to your place for cards tonight?” Ji Yanqing teased, dodging her embrace and flicking open his ivory fan.
He often bought rouge here for his brothel favorites, growing familiar with the widowed, alluring Chu.
Wait—why “again”?
Chu traced a finger over his chest, giggling. “If the Little Prince doesn’t mind an old cow grazing young grass, cards or flute-playing, lotus-sitting Guanyin—I’m game.”
“Next time, I promise. I’ve business today,” Ji Yanqing said, heading inside.
Chu was about to detain him when a timid voice interrupted, “Shopkeeper, I’d like to ask about rumors concerning Prime Minister Liu Sili. I’ll pay… is that okay?”
Startled by the odd question, Chu nearly suspected a Censorate sting. But seeing Ji Qingyan’s heavenly beauty—worthy of Canglan Goddess Chronicles—clutching the Jade Lion’s reins, the horse nuzzling her affectionately, Chu “understood” her relationship with Ji Yanqing and his “business.”
Switching to flattery, she said, “We’re sisters—money’s too crass. Ask away, and I’ll spill everything.”
Trading street gossip for the favor of the Wei King’s Heir’s “宠妾” was a steal!
…
“Tongyue, tell your miss that Weiyuan’s neck-deep in the black iron case. Only my Ma family can fix it. If she doesn’t become my woman soon, when the Guoyi Lieutenant’s order comes, heh,” Ma Yang sneered.
“Dream on! Miss will never marry scum like you!” Tongyue’s oval face flushed, summoning all her courage.
Ma Yang smirked. “Still so feisty, Tongyue. Women need spice to taste good. Tonight in my bed, I hope you’ve got the strength to scream…”
Before he finished, a sharp slap echoed through the shop. A red palm print bloomed on Ma Yang’s pudgy left cheek.
“Abducting maidens in Ye City—did you ask my permission?” Ji Yanqing said coldly, his tone icy as frost.
“Where’d this trash come from, daring to hit me?! Do you know who my father is?!” Ma Yang roared.
Slap!
This time, his right cheek bore a matching print.
“And do you know who my father is, peasant?!” Ji Yanqing retorted.