Chapter 59: Humiliation

Chapter 59: Humiliation

Who would eagerly offer themselves to be taken?

This thought suddenly popped into Lu Yan's mind. Seeing Shang Junning frown and snap out of his daze, he chuckled softly and said, "Beauty, what's the rush? Even if we're to pay homage to Duke Zhou, I should at least bathe and change first."

Shang Junning clearly didn't mean it that way.

But the teasing in the man's eyes was unsettling.

After an awkward silence, Shang Junning finally got up from Lu Yan, knelt silently beside him without a word, his eyes lowered, the candlelight casting his side profile in an even colder light. "Junning did not mean it that way. Please forgive me, Your Highness."

Lu Yan sat up, saying nothing but, "Lie down. This Prince will go bathe and change. Sleep if you're tired."

There was a pool made of warm jade in the partitioned room, neither too close nor too far away. But martial artists had keen senses, and Shang Junning could hear the faint sound of water as soon as he closed his eyes.

Lu Yan's bathing ritual was particularly troublesome, involving incense and floral dew. It took about an hour before he walked into the room wearing a white silk undergarment, his long hair loose, lazy and casual, with an androgynous beauty:

"Weren't you supposed to sleep? Why are you still kneeling?"

Shang Junning was a cautious person. Now a prisoner, he naturally wouldn't overstep the rules. He knelt silently in his original position, his features distant. Although his head was bowed, his spine seemed to be always a little prouder than others:

"Waiting for Your Highness."

Lu Yan smiled. "Very well, it's late. Let's sleep."

He extinguished the candles, lifting the covers and getting into bed in the dim darkness. Shang Junning caught a whiff of the soothing scent of Lotus Sandalwood, calming his mind. He thought to himself that this was indeed a prince raised in luxury, living a pampered life.

When Lu Yan was settled, Shang Junning lifted the covers and quietly slipped in.

In fact, during the time Lu Yan was bathing, Shang Junning had started to regret it. As a young chancellor and a man of both literary and martial talents, his pride was only greater than others. Yet, when he needed to survive most, that worthless pride would always come out at night, accusing him of betraying his principles and becoming someone else's plaything on the bed.

Please have mercy, Your Highness.

Those words, repeated twice, could not be uttered a third time.

Thinking this, Shang Junning remained motionless. He knew he couldn't escape. At the height of despair, there was no question of regret or not. His hand hanging by his side clenched into a fist uncontrollably, veins bulging.

Lu Yan noticed Shang Junning's overly tense body and lazily said with his eyes closed, "Is the Chancellor so alert even when sleeping? Relax. If your newly bandaged wounds tear again, what then?"

In the darkness, Shang Junning replied, "My lowly and broken body is not worth worrying about."

It was still that deadpan tone, as if lying next to him was not a peerlessly beautiful royal descendant, but an old man whose sight was more than enough.

Lu Yan asked, "What about your family?"

Shang Junning answered, "I lost my parents since childhood and have no family."

Lu Yan mused, "No wonder..."

No wonder he was sent to Immortal Spirit as a hostage, abandoned twice, with no one willing to save him.

Hearing these words, Shang Junning felt they contained countless sighs, stirring his heartstrings. He wanted to ask, but felt he shouldn't open his mouth, so he maintained his silence.

Drowsiness overtook Lu Yan, and he yawned. "Sleep. Your injuries haven't fully healed yet. With blood and gore everywhere, this Prince has no interest."

This slightly disdainful remark was a relief to Shang Junning. Hearing it, his heart relaxed as if a huge stone had fallen. Listening to Lu Yan's long, steady breaths beside him, his tense body finally relaxed bit by bit, and only then did he feel a bit sleepy.

Perhaps it wasn't just a little, but a lot.

During the days he was locked in the dungeon, it was the coldest winter, with bone-chilling cold. The guards whipped and beat them every day, not allowing them to sleep. Added to the pain of their wounds, Shang Junning hadn't had a good night's sleep for a long time.

The house had floor heating, and there was no trace of the biting cold outside. The four-legged auspicious beast incense burner exuded a sweet fragrance that made one's whole body relax. The bedding was soft, and the brocade quilts were thick, a world apart from the dungeon scene.

Even though Shang Junning was usually vigilant, he couldn't help but fall into a deep sleep now.

He slept until the afternoon of the next day.

Opening his eyes, Shang Junning saw the canopy above his head embroidered with the pattern of a Qilin blessing. Suddenly realizing he was no longer in the dungeon but in Fengling Manor, he sat up from the bed like an electric shock, his expression uncertain.

"Awoke?"

A half-laughing voice broke the silence in the room.

Lu Yan sat at a round table filled with delicacies, a pot of Nine Clouds Wine warming on the charcoal stove in front of him, bubbling gently. There were no servants in the room, so he poured two glasses of wine with his own sleeves: "Beauty, since you're awake, why not get dressed and join this Prince for a meal?"

Hearing this, Shang Junning realized that a set of plain clothes was placed by the bed. Without any hesitation in front of Lu Yan, he put them on, then got up from the bed and walked to him, asking in a tone devoid of emotion, "Why didn't Your Highness touch me last night?"

Lu Yan took a sip of wine and then lazily sank into his chair. "Didn't this Prince say it? Your injuries aren't fully healed yet. With blood and gore everywhere, I have no interest."

There was no emotion in Shang Junning's eyes, only a dark and eerie void, making his pale, bloodless face look even more isolated:

"In that case, may Your Highness allow Junning to return."

Lu Yan became interested. "Return where? To the dungeon, or the hostage residence?"

Shang Junning knelt, lifting his robe, his long lashes casting a faint shadow: "Anywhere."

Anywhere.

He would rather stay in the dungeon where the sun never shone, or in the dilapidated hostage residence, than remain in the luxurious Fengling Manor.

Lu Yan swirled the wine glass in his hand but didn't seem angry. "Beauty, you're being unfair. This Prince went through great lengths to release you from the dungeon and hasn't even tasted any sweetness yet. You want to leave already?"

Shang Junning lowered his gaze, unmoving. "If Your Highness needs Junning to serve, I'll be at your beck and call."

As his words fell, the air fell silent, with only the sound of the clay stove bubbling.

Lu Yan thought to himself that what he wanted wasn't just Shang Junning's service, but also this person's loyalty. He shook his sleeves and got up from the chair, personally helping him up, asking with a half-laugh, "Isn't living in the Manor good?"

Shang Junian didn’t expect him to personally help her up, and she instinctively pulled her hand back. "Though the Prince’s residence is splendid, it isn’t a place for Junian."

Putting aside Lu Yan’s usual chivalry towards women, just based on Shang Junian’s past life where she protected him until her death, he wouldn’t make things too difficult for her. After a moment, he spoke, "Accompany this Prince for a meal first, then I’ll send you back to the hostage residence. Will that do?"

It was a request that wasn’t really a request.

Sitting across from Lu Yan, Shang Junian looked at the table full of exquisite dishes. To say she found them tasteless would be a lie. She hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for days in the dungeon. If not for her inner strength as a martial artist, she might have starved to death.

Seeing Shang Junian not moving her chopsticks, Lu Yan pushed a bowl of bird’s nest soup towards her and lazily propped his head up. "Eat. Didn’t you want to return to the hostage residence? Once you’re done, this Prince will let you go."

Hearing this, Shang Junian finally began eating silently. Although she was extremely hungry, she didn’t wolf down her food; she merely ate faster, displaying the efficiency of someone from the military. Whatever Lu Yan served, she ate. By the end, the two men had consumed most of the dishes on the table.

Lu Yan finally summoned a servant girl to rinse his mouth and wash his hands. He raised his eyes and asked with a smile, "Full?"

Shang Junian knelt again and bowed. "Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness."

She didn’t know why the person before her was being so kind to her. In the end, her battered body had nothing worth scheming over. At worst, she’d be humiliated in bed.

Days in the dungeon were worse than death. She had already endured the greatest humiliation of her life; everything else paled in comparison.

Hearing this, Lu Yan walked to Shang Junian and leaned in to look straight into her eyes. His long, jade-like fingers deliberately landed on her collar, then slowly slid into the gap. No one knew where they touched, but Shang Junian’s chest trembled violently for a moment. Yet, she remained silent, pursing her lips without flinching.

Lu Yan watched as the part of her earlobe exposed turned bright red, almost as if dripping blood. He said with a half-smile, "Such obedience."

She seemed inexperienced.

Shang Junian looked up at Lu Yan. His fox-like eyes slightly tilted upwards, which should have been flirtatious, now strangely reminded one of a venomous snake flicking its tongue, ready to strike:

"Junian is now Your Highness’s person, naturally listening to Your Highness. I only hope…Your Highness can protect me and Crown Prince Yuzhang for three years."

Three years?

Was Shang Junian still thinking about returning? He probably didn’t know that after three years, he would be abandoned once more.

Lu Yan was silent. The position of his fingertips under his robes shifted, slowly circling around his heart. "Naturally."

In Xianling, there were more than three hostages. When the Emperor was young, he waged wars in all directions, conquering many territories. The defeated rulers of those small countries would offer hostages as a sign of sincerity.

To the west of the capital city, there was a heavily guarded mansion where these hostages were kept. Far from their homelands and ignored by all, their situation was even worse than that of the cold palace.

A carriage rattled to a stop at the entrance, followed by four guards. The old eunuch who had been sitting on the driver’s seat jumped down upon arrival. The snow was deep, yet he landed soundlessly:

"We’ve arrived at the hostage residence. Please proceed, Minister of State."

Leaving Fengling Palace, one realized how cold it was outside.

Shang Junian lifted the curtain and stepped out of the carriage. A gust of cold wind blew in her face, causing her to cough uncontrollably, triggering a wave of excruciating pain. She frowned and forcefully suppressed it. Her throat tasted of blood, and her voice was hoarse. "Thank you, Lord Eunuch."

Throughout history, what was most feared was the fading beauty of a woman and the graying hair of a general. Although Shang Junian’s hair wasn’t gray, her body, ravaged by the cold in the dungeon and pierced through the pipa bone, presented a state of illness and frailty that was more terrifying than graying hair.

Lord Crane’s hands were tucked in his sleeves, and he rarely lifted his eyelids to advise, "Minister of State, since your body hasn’t recovered, you should stay in the Prince’s residence to recuperate."

He had once crossed swords with Shang Junian. This person’s swordsmanship was extraordinary, and seeing her fall to such a state couldn’t help but elicit a sigh.

Hearing this, Shang Junian paused in her steps, then continued walking into the hostage residence without looking back, leaving behind a sentence: "That’s not my destination."

The hostage residence was shabby and dilapidated, especially cold in winter, making sleep nearly impossible. Today, the sun was out, and many people were basking in the courtyard. When Shang Junian stumbled in, it caused quite a stir.

"Shang Junian? Wasn’t she imprisoned in the dungeon by Prince Fengling? Why was she released?"

Zhao Yuzhang was originally inside the room. Hearing the commotion outside, he immediately rushed out. Seeing Shang Junian, he couldn’t help but exclaim in shock, "Junian?!"

He never expected Lu Yan to actually release Shang Junian. He hurriedly rushed forward to support her, nervously checking her up and down, his hands trembling with excitement. "You’re out, you’ve actually been released!"

They had both been detained in the dungeon for a long time, but one was outside while the other was inside, separated by a wall. It wasn’t until today that they finally met again, both visibly thinner and worn out.

Shang Junian shook her head slightly, her voice hoarse. "Don’t worry, I’m fine."

Zhao Yuzhang thought of something and spoke with an indiscernible expression. "Did Prince Fengling do anything to you?"

Shang Junian calmly uttered two words: "Nothing."

She was telling the truth, but unfortunately, some didn’t believe her.

"Nothing? But I heard that you climbed into Prince Fengling’s bed last night and became his male concubine. Look, not only did you change into warm cotton clothes, but you also cleaned up neatly. How could you possibly look like someone released from the dungeon?"

A sarcastic voice suddenly rang out, drawing everyone’s attention in the courtyard. It was none other than Huan Wen, the hostage from Changxi Country. He was the most spiteful in the entire hostage residence, always stirring up trouble.

He glanced at Shang Junian’s brand new plain clothes, his eyes burning with jealousy, yet he still sneered. "But since you’ve become Prince Fengling’s male concubine, why don’t you beg him to take you out of here instead of being thrown back into such a dilapidated place?"

Zhao Yuzhang was the first to explode in anger. "Bullshit! Huan Wen, dare you say that again!"

After saying this, he rushed forward to hit someone but was held back by the other hostages, who tried to mediate:

"Forget it, forget it. That’s just his personality. Why bother with him?"

"He insults every passing dog. Can you really kill Huan Wen?"

"We’re all in the same boat. We’ve reached this point, don’t kill each other."

As everyone was trying to persuade him, Shang Junian somehow walked to Huan Wen. Her fox-like eyes slightly tilted upwards, her pitch-black pupils resembling ghosts. Her aura was chilling. In a low voice, she asked, "What did you say just now? Say it again."

It was the momentum of someone who had fought through thousands of troops. Huan Wen was frightened and stumbled back a step, then mustered up his courage. "Shang Junian, don’t think I don’t know your pipa bone was pierced. Others may fear you, but this Crown Prince won’t…"

"Bang—!"

Before Huan Wen could finish, Shang Junian suddenly struck his chest with a palm. He flew out like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into a century-old dead tree in the courtyard. Snowflakes fell, and his face turned ashen as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Within the courtyard, there was an eerie silence as everyone was stunned by the scene before them.

Shang Jun Nian kept his posture as if about to strike, the cold wind fluttering his clothes incessantly. He cast a frigid gaze around, making sure no one dared to meet his eyes. Only then did he slowly retract his hand, his voice calm and deliberate as he said:

"From now on, whoever dares to make a nuisance in my ear, I will ensure they neither live nor die, do you understand?"

Amidst the swirling snow, the courtyard was silent, as pristine and spotless as a crystal world under the heavens. Only the pool of bright red blood on the ground stood out vividly.