Chapter 126 Patron: “You care for me, don’t you?”

Chapter 126: The Patron: "You Have Me in Your Heart, Right?"

Evening, incense smoke rises straight as a ruler's edge, a thin line climbing upward. The moonlight sinks westward, red candles flicker, the room is shrouded in darkness, filled with calm and icy air. The painted figures of men and women on the window lattice grow dim.

The sound of a human heart can be heard clearly, only to be quickly swallowed by a black hole. Cold moonlight scatters sparsely, a few silver points flicker, lurking in an indescribable gloom.

The person sitting on the couch, like any patron, sits carelessly with his legs wide apart, his deep gaze assessing her with an air of entitlement, as if he has paid for the right. But unlike other patrons, his sleeves are as pristine as white clouds, his clothes fresh and clean, cold and ancient, resembling a lofty hermit from antiquity.

This is the man who has reserved her, her so-called master.

He is the ruler here, the one who truly controls her, the dictator, the one she must serve.

Tian Qin stands opposite him, hands hanging limp, expressionless.

He is calm and composed, his outer robe half-open and draped loosely, without any greasy impatience.

Because they know each other’s bodies and souls well enough; whether it opens early or late, it’s all the same.

Xie Tanwei finally speaks: "Settle here for now."

It sounds like a suggestion, giving the illusion of choice. Light clouds drift past the moon through gaps in the pine trees, blocking some of the clear light. The moist mist rises faintly, and his expression is as hazy as the landscapes in a painting.

He gently strokes the bedding on her couch, savoring the texture of the fabric—soft, silky, the cloth he specially selected for her. She will sleep soundly and comfortably.

"It's not exactly luxurious here, but it's not shabby either. Fine clothes, good food, a life of ease."

An ideal living state, giving her a reason to reluctantly accept it for now.

Tian Qin curves her lips, not bitter, but morbidly accepting it all: "Don't. Isn't a top courtesan's room already luxurious? It's much warmer than the thatched hut I used to live in."

The embroidered patterns on the curtains, the mandarin ducks playing in the water painted on the porcelain basin—how wonderful. From now on, she’ll earn her own money, and countless silk-robed gentlemen will lie on her couch, at her mercy.

She is about to say something more cutting when Xie Tanwei grabs her wrist, his brows arching like a blade of ink, warning her: "Your only guest will be me—if you're willing to call it a 'guest.'"

He blocks the leak, cutting off her words provocatively.

He still remembers her dousing him with water, and has intentionally canceled all her good treatment.

"But white sand in black mud will turn black with it; when under someone else's roof, one must bow one's head." Tian Qin bends down, leaning close to him, a breeze passing her ears. "You say with your own mouth that I only need to serve you, one man. But in reality, I have to serve many men—anyone who pays counts. Mama Liu knows what kind of black-hearted goods she is, better than you do."

She reproaches him in veiled terms.

Xie Tanwei closes his eyes, her voice drilling into his ears, melting even the cold moon and frozen clouds above. It has been so long since he had such a wonderful, private night. He wishes it could last longer, even forever—it wouldn’t matter if they died together; he would gladly die for her.

Her words are so rebellious, yet he doesn’t want to argue. He will listen to whatever she says. Yes, she should be chaste—refusing other men sternly, tender only with him, her clothes only falling for him.

"Don't you like it…?" He grows increasingly entranced, his glittering, snow-cold eyes tinged with danger. Without warning, they meet her gaze. He grips her chin, forcing her to kneel at his feet, moving toward a deeper confession. He can't help but demand more, cupping her face and asking the old familiar question: "Don't like the place, or don't like me?"

Tian Qin’s chin aches, but she doesn’t resist. Instead, she lets herself fall forward onto his knee, her skirt spreading like a blooming white lotus. Word by word, she says: "Of course I like you. Since you want me to love you, I will love you without reservation. No one likes you more than I do."

She has learned to be clever, to beguile.

Xie Tanwei’s young, gentle face breaks into a smile. "Then it's the place you don't like."

A brothel is indeed a hindrance. During this transitional period, there’s no other choice.

Although his home has been cleaned up, bringing a wild, untamed woman like her back is still no small matter.

She is capable of anything. If she were his wife, splashing him or cursing him in front of everyone would make his political career very awkward. So he must first tame her wildness.

Tian Qin rests her chin on his knee. Her face, clear as crystal, is stunningly beautiful. Her beauty carries a subtle, almost imperceptible aggressiveness, as if without speaking she says: You should marry me and put me on a pedestal.

"You have me in your heart, right?"

If she does, then set her free.

He has kept her isolated, treated her eyes, provided fine food, visited her diligently—all out of love.

Xie Tanwei is amused by her. He pinches her cheek, answering evasively, explaining softly: "I’ve done my best. You’re so undisciplined; it wouldn’t be proper for me to take you in openly—what if my virtuous wife at home gets angry?"

Tian Qin doesn’t know that the so-called virtuous wife has already suffered the tragic fate of being cast aside, a sacrifice to his arbitrary power, a puppet in the cold palace with no say at all.

She continues along his line: "You could put me in a separate courtyard as you planned before, a private house in the capital. That way, you avoid other men in the brothel coveting me, and my sister won’t be angered."

She could even make do with Zhao Ning’s residence.

Xie Tanwei just smiles dismissively.

It’s not that he can’t do it; the time isn’t right.

She is overreaching.

He had intended to give her a private house, but that plan vanished the moment she splashed him with water.

She should be optimistic—this gilded cage is still better than suffering in a thatched hut.

"Be good."

He pats her rosy cheek.

Upon hearing this, Tian Qin jerks away from him, both fierce and sharp, her words cuttingly merciless: "Forcing a good woman into prostitution—really, you're something."

She’s like a child throwing a tantrum when she doesn’t get candy.

Her movement away from him stirs a fragrant breeze, a faint scent like intoxicating gardenias in the forest, a deer leaping under the moonlight—not entirely a rejection, more like a coy refusal.

Xie Tanwei closes his eyes even more deeply.

He is utterly captivated by her. His once gentle hand turns fierce, grabbing her waist, a primal impulse encloses her by his side. Starlight glimmers faintly, and his voice remains clear as water:

"Don’t make it sound so harsh. The more you resist, the harder it is, isn’t it? After all, I was once your brother-in-law. I won’t harm you. Once you learn the rules, we’ll leave. I promise."

He has told her countless times that the man selling buns is not worthy of her, but she wouldn’t listen. He was forced to take drastic measures.

Hearing this, she thinks he’s pretending to act for her benefit. She tugs at the icy jade crescent pendant on his waist belt, finding it familiar—it was a gift she gave him years ago.

She pauses, then counters: "Would my brother-in-law put his sister in a place like this too?"

If she were his truly beloved wife, could he bear even a speck of dirt on her hem?

Xie Tanwei turns his head away and says, "Don’t compare yourself to her."

As he retrieves the jade pendant, he also takes her hand.

After years apart, her calling him "brother-in-law" so abruptly is disorienting. Memories of sweet and bitter times swirl before his eyes.

Tian Qin knows she has no right to compare with his beloved wife. She quietly watches his righteous, sanctimonious demeanor and strikes at his most vulnerable point: "If the world knew that my brother-in-law had imprisoned his wife’s sister in a brothel, would you still be able to maintain your glorious image as the Sage Teacher?"

Xie Tanwei shakes his head, unyielding: "No. You won’t be able to spread the word."

She couldn't get the message out. He cruelly pointed out the fact that she was imprisoned; as long as he wished, she would never see the sun outside the window in her lifetime. That was how he ruthlessly trapped her life, suffocating her, drowning her in water as she blew bubbles.

Tian Qin sneered at herself.

Those standing outside the situation could choose resilience, stay true to themselves, and stand firm like bamboo; but those within it had no choice but to accept drowning. She was thrown against walls everywhere by the Five-Finger Mountain, bloodied and bruised, her will to fight worn down by repeated defeats, becoming numb and vain like the women in the brothels, merely content to survive.

She had changed, indeed she had changed, growing to accept adversity.

Through yet another rebirth, she proved that the weak remain the weak, that rebirth held no meaning.

Midnight moonlight streamed through the diamond-paned window, shallow as pooled water, and her face was streaked with tears. Xie Tanwei unquestioningly cupped her face and kissed her, imbued with a sanctity and solemnity, deep as the darkest depths of the blue sea.

—Don’t hate him; what she endured was not just confinement but also his deepest, vastest love, the shelter of his strongest fortress.

Everything had two sides; his love held not only the bitterness of distortion but also the sweetness of still waters running deep.

“This is your punishment, punishment… for having had Xu Junzheng, and then abandoning me to marry that mantou seller.”

Xie Tanwei buried her with a mixture of pity and disgust, his eyes soft, his pure voice carrying a sigh from the depths of his soul, so gentle, so coaxing, but certainly not powerless; countless obsessions bound her like chains, imprisoning her beyond question.

He pinched her cheek, forcing her to face him, and said cruelly, “You should thank me—for driving you out, and then personally breaking my promise to take you in. I even, for your sake…”

Ended his marriage with Xian Qiu in a clean break.

But he didn’t say it; it seemed a bit humiliating. Instead, he changed his words: “For your sake, I spared Xu Junzheng and Bo Ge. Since you know I’m a heinous corrupt official who stops at nothing, you should understand how hard it was for me to spare them.”

Tian Qin lightly slapped his face.

Her buried position made it difficult to exert force, so the slap felt more like a playful gesture.

“Can I refuse your shelter?”

Her bright eyes shimmered like water.

Xie Tanwei tilted his head, trapping her slender, fair hand between his cheek and shoulder. Suddenly, he recalled another account—her eyes, her jet-black, clear eyes, which had yet to pay the price for regaining sight.

“Then perhaps you’d like to feel the acupuncture needles again.”

His light voice reached her ears.

When he had pricked her before, she had been terrified, shrinking and clinging to his robe—a hundred times more obedient than she is now.

Tian Qin’s cold, iron-like defenses cracked.

Xie Tanwei’s smile rippled, pulling her more intimately into his arms. Rest assured, he wouldn’t. Aside from healing, he couldn’t bear to hurt her; he was no sadist.

Tian Qin let him mold and knead her at will, having lost all strength to resist. And in this lonely spring night, warm yet cold, it seemed right for two lonely souls huddling together for warmth.

In the drifting deep sea, he was the only driftwood. She used all her strength to swim up from the bottom and hold onto that sole piece of driftwood, willing to entangle and sink together with him than struggle exhaustedly.

He caught her as she leaned on him.

He was the one in all the world who cared for her most—why wouldn’t she believe it? In this world, only he could bear her vanity, her caprice, her willfulness; only they were a perfect fit—two pieces of a puzzle, destined for each other. No matter how she tried to escape, she could not avoid the bonds of fate.