Chapter 52

Chapter 52

The Young Marquis’s gaze halted, and his heart skipped a beat.

He had actually forgotten about this fat bird.

Although the chubby bird recognized its master, it was common for it to fly around aimlessly. Over time, both he and Wen Yu had stopped paying it much mind. But now, even though he was so thoroughly concealed, the little fatty bird could still recognize him.

And how did it find him…? Drawn to scent? It must be because he and Wen Yu were together every day—even if he didn’t want to, he had inevitably become imbued with it.

The memory of the veil hat being crushed by the fat bird was still vivid. Luo Qianyu knew this creature was a habitual liability and wanted to shoo Wen Yu’s bird away.

But just as he was about to act, the little bird flapped its wings and suddenly let out a chirp.

Luo Qianyu froze, and he quickly grabbed the plump little bird.

And covered its beak.

…

At the same moment, sure enough, Wen Yu’s footsteps paused.

When he turned back, the forest was silent as death.

Wen Yu’s expression grew serious. He retraced his steps and stopped before an old tree. After a moment, he sprang up into the tree. The thick, interwoven branches were empty.

Only the rustle of dry leaves falling remained.

Suddenly, his gaze fixed.

The red-tailed little bird was tied with a strip of cloth, dangling from a branch, swaying back and forth. The other end of the cloth hung crookedly, with a few words written in blood:

[Stop here. Do not pursue further.]

…

Luo Qianyu ran all the way out of the dense forest. When he finally stopped and looked up, he found himself amidst the bustling streets of the southern district of the capital.

And the deep alley behind the lively market led to a house of pleasure named the Moon Perch Pavilion.

Without much hesitation, Luo Qianyu stepped inside. Even if Wen Yu pursued him here, he would certainly not enter such a place.

As soon as the Young Marquis entered the main gate, a madam approached. Seeing his attire, the smile on her face deepened. "Oh, a distinguished guest from the Western Desert! This gentleman looks unfamiliar—is this your first time here?"

"To be frank with our honored guest, our Moon Perch Pavilion is quite renowned in the southern district. The front courtyard is a place for the company of charming ladies, while the rear courtyard is for the company of beautiful men. I wonder which side the gentleman would prefer to enjoy?"

The Young Marquis understood the implication.

In this era, male companionship was prevalent. Even such establishments were categorized accordingly—the front courtyard catered to female clients, while the rear courtyard catered to male companionship.

Luo Qianyu said, "The front courtyard."

The madam glanced at the wound on his shoulder, her expression shifting slightly. She vaguely sensed he was no ordinary person and signaled to the young attendant with her eyes.

The attendant understood. Seeing this guest was someone of importance, an ordinary courtesan wouldn’t be able to handle him, so he led the way directly to the courtesan’s room.

The courtesan was named Su Hongying. When the Young Marquis was ushered in, the woman was facing her dressing table, lightly smoothing her lips in the bronze mirror, her back to the newcomer. Only after the mysterious guest sat on the bed did her gentle voice ring out, "Why doesn’t the gentleman remove his veil hat?"

She glanced sideways. True to her title, the bed curtains added a hazy, poetic charm. Her every smile and frown was captivating. She said, "If you don’t remove it, how will you see this humble one’s face clearly when I serve you later?"

Luo Qianyu hesitated, then slowly raised his hand and lifted the veil hat.

The courtesan rose, smiled lightly, and with graceful steps walked to the bedside, lifting the hanging bed curtain.

When she clearly saw the person sitting on the bed, it was Su Hongying’s turn to be stunned.

Su Hongying looked at him. "Young Master, you are not from the Western Desert?"

"Hmm." Luo Qianyu felt somewhat awkward, averting his gaze. "There’s no need for the lady to serve me. I’m only borrowing this place to rest temporarily… and to hide from someone. Let’s just pretend, pretend only."

Hearing this, Su Hongying instead chuckled softly. "Since you’re already here, why pretend?" She leaned closer, her trailing words unfinished as her fingertips brushed past the jade button on the young man’s lapel. Her other hand rested on his shoulder, whispering close to his ear, "Let this humble one serve the young master’s rest."

Before the Young Marquis could speak, Su Hongying suddenly felt a warmth and dampness on her fingertips.

She looked down. It was blood.

Su Hongying was startled, her expression changing slightly. "The gentleman is injured?"

The young master nodded, clearly in pain, but still smiled at her. "Yes. Now does the lady believe me? I really am hiding from someone. I won’t stay here long."

Su Hongying lightly pursed her lips. Instead, she stood and said softly, "Young Master, pardon my rudeness." She then helped him remove his Western Desert outer robe and inner garment, revealing the wound on his shoulder.

It was a cut, neither long nor short, clearly caused by a sharp weapon.

After washing her hands, Su Hongying retrieved a box from beneath the dressing table, took out an ointment, and with gentle movements cleaned the bloodstains before carefully applying it to Luo Qianyu.

Strangely, wherever the ointment was applied, it melted like spring snow, blending seamlessly with the skin in an instant. Not only were the scars gone, but even the slightest uneven texture disappeared. The fingertip felt only smooth warmth.

The Young Marquis’s gaze fixed mid-air, astonished. "This ointment is…?"

Su Hongying lowered her eyes with a light laugh, her fingertip gently tracing the wound. "Young Master may not know, but in places like this, we inevitably encounter difficult guests. If the girls are injured from mistreatment, minor injuries may take months to heal, while serious ones can ruin their prime. This ‘Scarless Ointment’ is the pavilion’s secret formula. Applying it conceals scars, helping the sisters minimize their losses."

There was actually such medicine?

When she went to help him remove his boots, the young master finally reacted, pulling back slightly. "Miss Su…"

Su Hongying reasoned with him, "Since you’re hiding from someone, wouldn’t these wet boots seem very suspicious?"

Luo Qianyu thought she made sense.

Then, Su Hongying brought back a basin of water. The copper basin was placed by the bed. As she removed the boots soaked in lake water and mud, she was taken aback to find that not only were Luo Qianyu’s shoes and socks wet, but also a large portion of his trouser legs.

Su Hongying didn’t ask further. After helping the Young Marquis wash his calves and feet with warm water, she found a set of clean clothes for him to change into, even bringing clean shoes and boots.

Being cared for with such gentle attentiveness made Luo Qianyu feel somewhat embarrassed. But Su Hongying had already efficiently suggested, "The gentleman’s clothes, veil hat, and this folding fan—would you like this humble one to help hide them?"

Luo Qianyu was taken aback, pondered slightly, and considered the possibility of Wen Yu pursuing him here. Although it was almost zero, he still nodded. "Thank you."

"The rest can be discarded, but this folding fan was a gift from an old friend. It’s very important to me. I must trouble Miss Su…"

Su Hongying lightly raised her fair wrist, cutting him off. "Young Master need not say more. This humble one understands. Three days from now, at the hour of You, in the private room of Fan Tower in the eastern district, I will bring the folding fan to await you."

"…" Luo Qianyu seriously suspected this lady was caught up in some storybook plot. Not only was she not wary of what he had encountered or whom he was hiding from, she even seemed somewhat enthusiastic. He couldn’t help but laugh. "The lady is offering such tremendous help. I truly don’t know how to repay you."

"It’s merely a small effort. Why should the young master mention repayment? Rather, you have paid silver but haven’t even enjoyed the spring scenery within these bed curtains…" She covered her mouth with a light laugh. "This humble one’s heart feels as if I owe you something."

When the Young Marquis realized what the courtesan was referring to, his face flushed hot. "It’s fine. I didn’t come here for that anyway…"

Suddenly, commotion arose outside the room.

As footsteps approached, mingled with the madam’s sharp, urgent voice, “Oh, sir! The person you’re looking for truly isn’t in our Qiyue Tower… Ah, honored guest, you mustn’t go in there! You mustn’t—that’s the private chamber of our courtesan, Lady Hongying…!”

Luo Qianyu’s heart leapt, and panic instantly seized him. Just then, Su Hongying suddenly wrapped her arms around the Young Marquis’s neck and yanked him down.

With a loud *bang*, the door swung open. At that moment, the young man had one arm braced beside the courtesan’s head, leaning over her as if he’d just pinned her to the bed and was moving in for an intimate moment.

Wen Yu stood at the threshold, stopping dead in the doorway.

On the bed, the Young Marquis propped himself up and shot a sidelong glance, his face a mask of displeasure at the interruption, tinged with impatience. “What insolent fool dares to barge into the courtesan’s private chamber and spoil this young master’s fun?”

Then, as if recognizing the newcomer only now, he feigned surprise. “Wen Yu? Is that you?”

“What brings you here?”

Wen Yu didn’t speak, his gaze meeting the Young Marquis’s.

The Young Marquis’s lips twitched, and he froze, stunned.

Because he had never seen Wen Yu like this—the furrow between his brows seemed to burn, yet his eyes churned with a coldness so intense it felt almost tangible, piercing straight through him and stirring a hint of fear.

What truly made him stiffen completely was the moment Wen Yu strode directly toward him.

Luo Qianyu’s supporting arm went slack, a tremor running through his throat as he suddenly wanted to sit up.

But Wen Yu had already approached, bending down to seize his ankle and give it a sharp tug. The Young Marquis let out a startled cry, forced apart from the courtesan as he slid to the edge of the bed, nearly tumbling off.

Wen Yu, however, dropped to one knee, trapping him as if blocking his escape, pinning him with an arm around his waist.

“Wen Yu! What the hell are you… doing?!” The Young Marquis snapped back to his senses, trembling with anger.

Yet Wen Yu remained silent. Still in that position, he reached out, removed his boots, then his socks, revealing his pale foot.

Next, Wen Yu’s hand slid to the sole of his foot, all the way to his toes, pinching the fair flesh bit by bit, brushing between the gaps.

He was… touching his foot.

The Young Marquis’s scalp tingled, his ears burning as he shot up as if on pins and needles, trying to kick the man. But his ankle was clamped in Wen Yu’s iron grip, unable to move an inch.

He burst out cursing, “Wen Yu! Let go… I said let go! Have you lost your mind? I ask you why you barged into Qiyue Tower, and what are you doing touching my foot? Have you become a mute, unable to utter a single word? You ungrateful beast!”

Beside him, Su Hongying was utterly dumbfounded.

Wen Yu, however, paid no heed. His well-defined hand moved away from the ankle, fingertips sliding upward, slipping into the trouser leg, tracing along the Young Marquis’s calf bit by bit. The fair, soft flesh in his palm, the faint sound of skin rubbing, sent shivers down Luo Qianyu’s neck.

The fabric of the trouser leg lifted along with it, sliding deeper and deeper, bunching up at the back of the knee.

Wen Yu’s hand reached that spot.

Any further up… would be the undergarments.

Luo Qianyu, setting aside his shame, found his gaze suddenly fixing on Wen Yu’s face, finding the other man also looking at him, as if carefully studying his expression.

Luo Qianyu froze.

The Mysterious Guest had just stormed into the Western Desert ship and hastily left by stepping into the water, soaking everything from the waist down. After coming ashore, the muddy roads inevitably soiled his boots, and the silk socks, drenched in silt-laden lake water, would surely dirty his feet. If he had fled in a hurry, by the time he was caught, the Mysterious Guest would definitely not have had time to deal with these traces.

Wen Yu… suspected the Mysterious Guest was him?

How could this be? If his appearance at Qiyue Tower tonight was merely a coincidence, and he hadn’t shown up at any other time, lacking motive and contradicting the Young Marquis’s persona, when did Wen Yu… start suspecting the Young Marquis?

What was the basis?

Where exactly did things go wrong?

Or perhaps, not just tonight, but tracing back much earlier… Wen Yu had already suspected it was him?

Once this thought sprouted, Luo Qianyu dared not dwell on it further. Besides, he was currently standing on the edge of a blade. His heart pounded like a drum, and he suddenly felt grateful that he had taken precautions earlier, specifically changing into clean, fresh boots, even his outer robe and trousers, so now he wouldn’t be recognized.

Wen Yu’s lips parted, speaking for the first time tonight. “Young Master, the boots you wore to the palace today weren’t these, nor were the trousers, and you’ve changed your robe as well.”

Luo Qianyu’s throat tightened imperceptibly, his heart pounding like a war drum. He retorted righteously, “What’s the problem? How could I wear palace attire into a brothel? If others easily saw through my identity and word reached my father, would I have any peace?”

“What about the hair ribbon?” Luo Qianyu’s pupils constricted. He hadn’t noticed when his hair had come loose, and the ribbon was now in that person’s hand. He heard Wen Yu ask, “Why is the hair ribbon wet?”

Luo Qianyu’s mind tensed.

He had used this ribbon earlier to bind the wound and stop the bleeding. Later, it was soaked with blood, but fortunately, both were red and not very noticeable. Still, Su Hongying had helped him wash it clean, and he had tied it back on.

Who would have thought such a minute detail would be detected?

How to explain this? Even if he changed clothes after leaving the palace banquet and went to the brothel, there was no reason for his hair ribbon to get wet and be retied.

It was all because Wen Yu was too sharp.

Just as the Young Marquis was at a loss for words, Su Hongying’s delicate voice chimed in softly beside them, explaining gently, “Please don’t blame this gentleman. Earlier, when the young master was with me… he used the hair ribbon to tie my hands, carried me onto the table, and things got rather intense… accidentally knocking over a teacup. That’s how the ribbon got wet. Please don’t be angry, sir—it was all my fault.”

Luo Qianyu secretly breathed a sigh of relief, casting a grateful glance at Su Hongying.

Only then did Wen Yu finally shift his gaze to her face, his thin lips parting slightly as he coldly uttered two words: “Get out.”

Su Hongying’s expression changed slightly.

Not because of this dismissal, but because the gaze of this man, handsome as an immortal, seemed tempered with frost and snow, piercing straight through and chilling the back of her neck.

The Young Marquis immediately frowned, protecting the young lady. “The one who should get lost is you! Wen Yu, she’s the top courtesan specially attending to me tonight. I haven’t spoken yet—what right does a mere guard like you have to overstep and give orders?”

Su Hongying curtsied, preferring to leave this troublesome situation sooner rather than later, and said softly, “Please forgive me, young master. I… shall take my leave now.”

As Luo Qianyu was still stunned, the clothes on his shoulder slipped down, falling to his elbow.

He had long known Wen Yu wouldn’t overlook this spot. Fortunately, Su Hongying had treated his wound. Though his heart raced wildly, his expression didn’t change in the slightest. He merely raised an eyebrow, pulled his collar back up, and slapped Wen Yu across the face.

He withdrew his hand, the lingering heat in his palm burning as if scalded. He had slapped scumbags before—Lou Xian, Liu Cixue… but he had never thought of slapping the protagonist shou. The Young Marquis might lack confidence, but his anger was genuine. Gritting his teeth, he said, “You bastard, have you come to your senses?”

Wen Yu’s face was turned aside by the slap, but contrary to expectations, he didn’t draw his sword or rebel against his master.

Instead, he regained his usual composure, his tightly pressed lips slowly parting as he knelt on one knee, saying solemnly, “This subordinate has overstepped.”

Luo Qianyu clutched his collar with one hand, his knuckles turning white. “Wen Yu, barging into my private chamber for no reason, groping around recklessly—what do you take me for?”

Though kneeling, Wen Yu’s back remained straight, the turmoil in his eyes fading further. “This subordinate has offended the Young Marquis and is willing to accept punishment.”

“Accept punishment? Or are you seeking a reward?” Luo Qianyu sneered, suddenly sitting upright and lifting his bare toes to tilt the other’s chin. “Wen Yu, are you trying to climb into my bed?”

Wen Yu’s pupils froze.

Luo Qianyu looked down at him. “If you want to, just ask directly. Even if it’s absurd and ridiculous, when this young master is in a good mood, I might just indulge your delusion.”

He swung his leg down, kicking Wen Yu in the shoulder, and said coldly:

“But before I agree, you have no right to lay hands on me.”

-

By the time they returned to the Marquis’s estate, night had fallen completely.

The estate was unusually lively. Though the sky was as dark as soaked ink, every building blazed with light—clear evidence that the incident had sent shockwaves through the household.

The Young Marquis was summoned to the main residence and emerged half an hour later.

He recalled the old Marquis’s stern, displeased expression and his low, grave voice: “That disgrace has recounted the entire affair to me. Regarding the Grand Princess’s abduction, I shall report the matter truthfully to His Majesty.”

“Qianyu, you’ve done well.”

*Disgrace*—most likely referred to Luo Zhiheng, who had disguised herself as a man and infiltrated the palace.

As for the praise—the Young Marquis felt both flattered and bewildered.

After a moment’s reflection, he realized Luo Zhiheng had already returned to the estate, while he himself had vanished without explanation at the critical moment. Luo Zhenchuan must therefore have assumed the Young Marquis had spurred his horse in pursuit of the Western Desert envoys who had abducted his third sister.

Hardly had he stepped out of the main residence when he encountered Chun Sheng, leading the horse Cloak. He quickened his pace and asked softly, “Was anyone watching?”

Chun Sheng smiled. “Rest assured, Young Master. I followed at a distance but stayed close behind you the entire time. The cloak lay on the grassy lakeshore—I spotted it and retrieved it. I met scarcely a soul along the way.”

The Young Marquis clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done, Chun Sheng.”

He placed his foot in the stirrup, vaulted onto Cloak, circled Jinlin Courtyard, and headed straight for the stables to return the horse himself.

Rounding the corridor’s corner, he locked eyes with Wen Yu, standing motionless before the courtyard.

…

To Wen Yu now, he was no longer the heroic savior—the Mysterious Guest—but a tardy, irresponsible rake who, even after his own sister went missing, had found leisure to visit a brothel for amusement.

So what? At least he wasn’t suspected of being the Mysterious Guest.

Luo Qianyu lowered his gaze, staring at the horse’s lustrous mane. He reached out to stroke it—only for Cloak to toss its head and pull away.

“…”

The Young Marquis fell silent, lost in thought.

Suddenly, Cloak slowed to a halt—just as its rider did.

He no longer wished to keep evading—not tonight, not beneath the eaves of Mingyan Pavilion, nor during their first encounter at Zhaixian Tower… Perhaps what Wen Yu truly sought was not the identity of the Mysterious Guest, but a simple, long-overdue word of thanks.

If that was all Wen Yu wanted, perhaps he could grant it.

Since he had taken it upon himself to impersonate the Mysterious Guest—to disrupt the plot, mislead Wen Yu, leave him confused, even foster an obsession—then it was only fitting he should tie up the loose ends and bring this to a definitive close.

Cloak came to a stop before the elegant figure.

Wen Yu looked up—and saw the Young Marquis silhouetted against the moonlight, his face bathed in a soft, hazy glow, his features obscured by shifting light and shadow, indistinct, elusive.

“…Wen Yu.”

“Zhiheng has told me everything. Regardless of circumstances, you risked your life to save my third sister this time. For such a deed, a generous reward is only just.” The young man lowered his gaze and spoke softly: “As a token of gratitude, I will grant you one wish.”

“Before Lou Xian departed for the army, he told me everything.” Luo Qianyu parted his lips, enunciating each word with crystalline clarity: “You wish to meet that ‘Mysterious Guest,’ don’t you?”

“I can arrange for you to meet him—once.”

Wen Yu’s pupils trembled faintly.

“However, I have three conditions. Fail even one, and the deal is void.” The Young Marquis pressed his lips together, fingertips lightly tracing the saddle—yet his voice remained firm, unyielding. “First: you must be blindfolded during the meeting.”

“Second: you must be thoroughly intoxicated before seeing him.”

“Third: the location shall be chosen solely by me—and you shall have only as much time as a single incense stick takes to burn.”

He added, “What you say or do upon meeting him is entirely your own affair.”

“After this, you shall never see each other again—in this lifetime.”

…

“Do you agree?”