Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Qilian Bookstore, the largest art and calligraphy market in the capital, was bustling with people when Lin Ting arrived.

Stepping out of his carriage, he peered inside. "Wow, so many people."

To avoid trouble after leaving the palace, he had changed into an embroidered robe adorned with golden pine and crane patterns. Truth be told, this robe was a gift from Pei Xingjian months ago. He had grabbed it hastily without a second glance, and now, in public, it felt conspicuously flashy.

An sharp-eyed attendant at the entrance immediately spotted him and approached. "Esteemed guest, are you here for paintings or books? Our Qilian Bookstore is the largest in the capital; whatever you desire, we have it."

Lin Ting stepped inside, then, noticing the attendant still trailing him, waved an embarrassed hand. "I'll browse by myself, no need to follow."

The attendant understood: such distinguished guests who preferred solitude were usually seeking the latest sensational novels. So, he gestured upward with his thumb, a knowing smile on his face. "Understood, understood. The books you seek are on the third floor."

Lin Ting’s cheeks flushed. *Understood what?* He was here for *proper* books, thank you very much.

After a quick tour of the first floor, he seized a moment of sparse crowd and headed straight for the third.

Compared to the first and second floors, the third floor was half-empty. The patrons there were quiet, some even covering their faces, their books rolled up tightly—clearly not exactly wholesome reading material.

The carriage driver had mentioned that the capital’s most popular supernatural novel was said to have intricate, captivating plots that left readers in awe.

Lin Ting was instantly intrigued. In ancient times, without phones or computers, such novels were the only way to pass the time.

Unfortunately, after searching the shelves, he found no supernatural novels. Instead, tucked away on the bottom shelf, he spotted a book with a garish yellow cover, its title bearing words like "Imperial Grace" and "Rain and Dew."

Definitely not a *proper* book.

Lin Ting’s fingertips trembled, hovering just an inch from the cover.

For some reason, his right eyelid twitched.

He furtively glanced behind him—good, no one was nearby.

Quickly, he snatched the book and scurried to the window, eager to see what it contained.

Upon opening it, he was met with an explicit illustration of two men embracing, their expressions and actions utterly… indecent.

Lin Ting’s face burned crimson. Flipping further, the characters were vaguely described—one was a city lord, but Lin Ting suspected it was a metaphor for the emperor, while the other…

Phrases like "possessing an exotic fragrance," "accompanying the city lord," and "staying overnight in the city lord’s residence" jumped off the pages.

Lin Ting’s fingers turned white as he clutched the pages, his eyes widening in disbelief.

This was—this was a raunchy fanfiction about him and the emperor!

Who—who wrote this? Who gave them the right?!

And the later passages, describing things like "the ruler and his favorite getting along, often seen together…"

His breathing came in short gasps, like a drowning fish.

His fingers hesitated over the pages—should he keep reading? He feared coming across something even more scandalous.

Suddenly, a heated argument broke out behind him.

"You clearly agreed to a sixty-forty split, and now you’re reneging!"

An elderly voice replied, "It’s not that I’m backing out, but your book simply isn’t selling. Look, the copies are printed, but no one’s buying!"

"Then think of something more sensational. Once it sells, I’ll pay you your share."

Lin Ting shuddered, hurriedly rolling up the book and stuffing it into his sleeve. Turning around, he saw a man in a simple blue scholar's robe arguing with another.

"Boss, you were the one who told me to write this! You said it would make money—otherwise, I’d rather die than write such things!"

The boss tugged at his beard, eyes full of calculation. "Scholar, I said such works *could* make money, but only if they’re well-written. If they’re poorly done, of course they won’t sell."

The young man arguing stood his ground, down on his luck but proud.

Yet, his silhouette looked oddly familiar.

Lin Ting pondered for a moment before calling out, "Yang Gongming? What are you doing here?"

The young man turned, his face turning bright red upon seeing Lin Ting. "L-Lin—"

Lin Ting touched his own cheek. *What’s wrong? Do I look that scary?*

He had heard that many impoverished scholars in the capital took odd jobs as copyists or writers for bookstores to make ends meet. So—

"Are you working as a writer for Qilian Bookstore too?"

Yang Gongming mumbled. "Mhm."

Lin Ting was even more confused. Was working for the capital’s largest bookstore something scholars looked down upon?

Just then, someone bumped into them, jostling Lin Ting. He stumbled, and the book in his sleeve flew out—landing right at his feet.

"Uh—" Lin Ting made a grab for it.

"Wait—" A hand got to it first.

Lin Ting watched as Yang Gongming flipped through the book, his expression growing stormier by the page, like he wanted to devour it with his eyes.

Lin Ting’s face burned. "Uh, I don’t usually read such… *explicit* material."

But Yang Gongming slammed the book closed and pointed accusingly at the bookstore owner. "You said my novel wasn’t selling—then what’s this?! You stole my manuscript to sell?!"

Lin Ting’s hand hung frozen in mid-air. He wondered if he’d misheard, then blurted out in disbelief:

"*You* wrote this book?!"

Yang Gongming’s face turned scarlet as he let out a sheepish little "Mhm."

Lin Ting’s brain short-circuited. He gave Yang Gongming a look of horrified realization. "I never knew you had… *such* hobbies."

Who would’ve thought? Outwardly so upright, yet secretly writing smut.

Yang Gongming jumped like he'd been shocked. "No, listen—they said it would make money!"

Lin Ting’s mortification vanished instantly, replaced by sympathy. He gave a knowing nod. "I know, I know. It wasn’t your intention."

Poor guy. Tricked into writing it, and now not even getting paid—all for nothing.

The bookstore owner, caught red-handed, wiped sweat from his forehead and spluttered, "No, no—let me explain—"

The owner pleaded, "You're a scholar about to take the imperial examination. If word gets out, it'd ruin your reputation, wouldn’t it?"

Yang Gongming seethed. As a scholar preparing for the imperial examination, he would never have written such things if not for needing money. If other scholars found out he had penned such salacious material, he would never be able to hold his head high in the bureaucracy.

The owner was counting on him not daring to take the matter to court.

"If you don’t pay me the book fees today, I’ll go straight to the magistrate right now."

Lin Ting added, "According to the laws of Great Yong, your actions could warrant thirty lashes at the least, or thirty lashes plus two years in prison at worst. Are you sure you want this to go to court?"

Seeing Lin Ting dressed in fine silks, with a face like jade—clearly a young master from a good family—the owner’s tone softened instantly. "Young master, this is just a humble shop. Please don’t report me to the authorities. As for this young man’s book fees—here, I’ll have someone get the money right away."

He called a shop assistant to retrieve the payment.

Soon, the assistant returned with a money pouch.

Once the fees were settled, Yang Gongming handed the book back to Lin Ting, his face burning red as he awkwardly advised, "Such books are morally corrupting. My lord, you really shouldn’t—read less of them."

Lin Ting: !!!

"No, this isn’t my usual taste! I just happened to pick this up by accident." He tried to return the book, but the owner interjected, "This book has already been paid for, young master. You may keep it."

Lin Ting was stunned. When had it been paid for? He had no idea.

The owner smiled. "That young scholar paid for it on your behalf."

Lin Ting gaped. No wonder Yang Gongming had looked so strange earlier.

Glancing at the raunchy titles like *Imperial Grace* and *Morning Dew*, he knew carrying such a book openly would be scandalous, so he shoved it up his sleeve.

As they stepped outside, Yang Gongming said, "Thank you, Lord Lin."

Lin Ting waved it off. "I understand. Everyone’s just trying to make a living."

Yang Gongming caught the hidden meaning and thanked him again.

They parted ways at the crossroads.

Lin Ting climbed into his carriage and continued home.

When he arrived and alighted at his mansion’s gates, a figure hurried toward him.

"Lord Lin, you’ve finally returned!"

Lin Ting paused and looked up to see Zhao Dehai’s smug grin.

"Eunuch Zhao, to what do I owe this visit?"

He thought to himself—why did it sound like this wasn’t his own home?

Zhao Dehai chuckled and shifted his rotund frame aside, revealing another figure standing in the courtyard.

"Your Maje—"

Zhao Dehai quickly corrected, "My lord has been waiting for quite some time."

Lin Ting shut his mouth and silently entered.

"Your Majesty, why have you come?" He had only made a quick trip to the bookstore, yet the emperor had followed him here. Was the court so idle these days?

Pei Xingjian stood in the courtyard, his gaze shifting from the flowering branches peeping from the courtyard wall to Lin Ting’s face. His tone was deceptively mild. "I came because I wished to. But Minister Lin, instead of being home after duty, where have you been gallivanting?"

Lin Ting detected an unusual note in those words. He pressed his lips together, clutching his sleeves cautiously. "Your servant was… surveying the people’s affairs on Your Majesty’s behalf."

Pei Xingjian: "In other words, gallivanting through markets for amusement."

He suddenly leaned in. Lin Ting, standing too close, startled and stumbled back.

Then—whump—a heavy object fell from his sleeve and hit the ground.

His heart clenched. A terrible premonition rose as he looked down and saw the book he had carelessly tucked away now sprawled provocatively on the ground.

Silence stretched for two seconds.

Lin Ting made a wild grab for it. "Ah—my book—"

But a large hand reached out before him. Pei Xingjian’s gaze was dark. "Give me that."

Lin Ting clutched the book, his heart pounding. "I-it’s better not, Your Majesty. I fear it might… offend Your Majesty’s sensibilities." Such things were best kept to himself. The emperor was a paragon of purity—last time had already shocked him. He didn’t dare repeat it.

Yet Pei Xingjian didn’t withdraw his hand. "Let me see what exactly Minister Lin has been ‘observing’ on my behalf."

Lin Ting hesitated, frozen.

Pei Xingjian simply snatched the book from him. A single glance at the cover stunned him for several seconds.

Then he skimmed through the contents…

Lin Ting felt his reputation in tatters.

After a long pause, Pei Xingjian finally closed the book, his brow deeply furrowed. "Minister Lin truly has such… particular tastes?"

Lin Ting’s face burned. "No, Your Majesty, I—I just—"

"Enough to resort to cheap thrills rather than look at the person before you."

"What?" Lin Ting’s vision darkened. What nonsense was this? "I haven’t!"

Pei Xingjian’s deep, dark eyes fixed on him.

Lin Ting stared back in shock, lips slightly parted, slightly damp, the tip of his nose flushed.

Pei Xingjian’s gaze lingered for a moment. The night was cool, yet the air around them felt thick, as if charged with heat.

He said low, almost to himself, "I never force others."

Lin Ting’s chest tightened, a strange fluttering unfurling within him.

He met Pei Xingjian’s burning look. Though his expression remained calm, the faint redness at the tips of his ears gave him away.

A thought flashed through Lin Ting’s mind—could it be that Pei Xingjian’s feelings for him were… like that?

The night was cool, a full moon hung in the sky.

Pei Xingjian tossed the book onto a table. "Tonight is the full moon. Walk with me."

A cool night air brushed past, soothing Lin Ting’s pounding heart. When he looked up, Pei Xingjian had already crossed the doorway, standing beyond the gate, waiting for him.

Moonlight silvered his features, softened in the glow.

Lin Ting straightened his robes and followed.