The Imperial Tutor's Instructions - Chapter 6

Jia Shikai was feeling smug about his impending conquest, pinching the wine cup in his hand and insisting that Yun Xiu drink it, regardless of her resistance.

“Let her go,” Song Nanqing said.

The sudden sound of the heavy doors caused Jia Shikai to spill two drops of wine. He looked at the intruder, his face full of annoyance. But as his eyes landed on Song Nanqing’s face, his expression shifted subtly.

“A little beauty like you should stay at home waiting for someone to pamper her; why learn to play the hero rescuing a damsel from distress?” Jia Shikai knew who this was, of course. It was just someone who felt slighted because he had outbid them for the courtesan. He paced slowly toward Song Nanqing, tilting his head to inspect the face that rivaled the top courtesan’s, instantly deciding that taming this person who had just challenged him would be far more interesting than winning the beauty contest.

“Want to compete with me for her? Do you know who I am?” Jia Shikai lifted the person’s chin with the end of his fan, his tone laced with both threat and mockery.

Song Nanqing looked at him with a fake, chilly smile. Before that fan could even settle against his chin, Jia Shikai had already been knocked to the floor, struck unconscious by a blow to the nape of his neck.

Yun Xiu’s eyes widened in shock, and she covered her mouth to keep from screaming.

“Want to compete with me? Do you know who I am?” Song Nanqing let out a cold snort and waved to Wei Jin. “Well done. Drag him out; the sight of him is nauseating.”

To spend the night with his long-desired beauty, Jia Shikai hadn’t kept even a couple of servants behind, so dragging him out proved quite easy.

Inside the room, Yun Xiu quickly tidied herself and bowed in gratitude to Song Nanqing. “Thank you, Young Master, for saving me.”

Song Nanqing looked her over and opened with, “Are you Japanese?”

Yun Xiu was stunned, then cautiously asked in her own language, “Are you one too?”

Even without understanding, Song Nanqing could guess what she said. “I am not, but I was curious how you came so far to the Great Sheng and ended up living in a place like this. It doesn’t seem like you were here willingly.”

Yun Xiu’s eyes reddened. Because of the couplet challenge earlier, she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity with this youth. She said, “I thought your people were upright and honorable. We were promised that if we surrendered, we would be properly settled. I never expected to fall into such a state.”

Song Nanqing’s gaze flickered. “You are a Japanese prisoner of war captured in the recent fighting? But the Great Sheng has never enslaved those who voluntarily surrendered. How did this happen?”

“Pay a fee, and you are not registered as a slave; cannot pay, and you are sold. Young Master, you are too naive. Prisoners not being registered as slaves is as hard to believe as the fact that I have been in this Fengqi Tower for so many days and haven’t had to entertain a single guest.” Yun Xiu rested her hand on the chair and said casually.

Song Nanqing felt a bitter taste in his heart. “Do you know who sold you?”

Yun Xiu replied, “I do not know, but it was not Fengqi Tower that bought me; it was a middle-aged official. I am just a means for him to mask his tracks. He makes me entertain different guests to pass information.”

“My family is in his hands; I have no choice but to obey. I only know he has a lame attendant who usually comes to see me.”

Song Nanqing stared at the keyhole in the door and said in a low voice, “It is Wang Qian.”

Yun Xiu looked surprised. “There is indeed someone who calls him Lord Wang. You know him?”

“After tonight, he will no longer be any kind of Lord,” Song Nanqing said. “I can rescue you and your family.”

Though she did not know his identity, Yun Xiu could tell by his tone that Song Nanqing was no ordinary person.

“Just rescuing me is not enough. I have hundreds of compatriots, and I do not know where they are now.”

“I had a beloved, who was dragged away while trying to rescue me. I do not know if he is alive or dead. But in my current state, even if he were alive, it would be a delusional wish.” Yun Xiu let a tear slip, but quickly wiped it away. She looked up and said, “Who has the power to decide our fate? The Emperor? Then he is truly not a good Emperor.”

Song Nanqing choked, his eyelashes trembling as if he had been struck. “The Emperor delegates matters to his subordinates; he cannot do everything personally.”

“But if the ruler of a country cannot discern talent and lets these people use their power to amass wealth and persecute the prisoners and the common people, that is his sin too, is it not?”

Song Nanqing had nothing to say; he could not refute her, for Yun Xiu was right.

As a monarch, whether they were commoners born in this country or refugees who had surrendered and were captured, they were all his subjects. If his subjects lived in misery, it was his sin. His failure to prevent corrupt officials from persecuting the people was proof of his incompetence as an Emperor.

His tone was heavy, but his resolve was firm. “I will help you. I will find the culprit and make him pay so that prisoners are no longer persecuted.”

Yun Xiu said, “If there is any way I can be of use, Young Master, please just command it. These days at Fengqi Tower, I have learned a few things.”

“Watching those men submit to their desires and behave so ugly before me, I feel they are nothing more than that. Men are animals controlled by their lower halves; once they submit to desire, they lose their brains.”

Ever since hearing Yun Xiu’s words, Song Nanqing had been reflecting. His existence as an Emperor—fearful of wolves and tigers, only interested in self-preservation—was meaningless. Allowing the likes of Jia Liang and Wang Qian to flourish was exactly what gave them the chance to shake the foundations of his empire. Since he sat on the throne, he had to do something for his country and his people.

“Lose their brains when submitting to desire?” Hearing this, Song Nanqing returned to his senses and looked at Yun Xiu. “How did you manage to make them fall for you at first sight?”

Why was it that even after following the instructions in the Ten Arts of Controlling Men, Shen Heng still did not obey his every wish?

Yun Xiu smoothed her sleeves and smirked. “To capture a man’s heart, relying only on affection is too slow. They need more direct desires. The desire for protection, for punishment, for control, for violence, and for conquest—all are desires. Do you want to see the Fengqi Tower Guest Reception Training Guide?”

Song Nanqing blinked and obediently reached out like a beggar.

For the past half-hour, Song Nanqing’s worldview had been severely impacted. He stumbled out of Yun Xiu’s room, supported by Chun Jian, who was waiting outside.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?” Seeing his unsteady gait, Chun Jian reached out to support Song Nanqing’s arm with concern. Wei Jin had already gone back to interrogate Wang Qian.

Song Nanqing processed the training guide while thinking about the layout he had agreed upon with Yun Xiu. As a reward for her guidance, he had asked for the specific details of her beloved, hoping to help find him if there was a chance, however slim.

After such a ruckus, he was a bit tired. Song Nanqing swayed as he prepared to go out with Chun Jian to find a restaurant for a big meal.

Unexpectedly, just as he was about to leave, he made eye contact with someone passing by.

It was Shen Heng.

At that moment, he was being pestered by the brothel madam, who apologized, saying it did not matter that he had not bid on Yun Xiu; they had plenty of other beautiful girls for him to choose from. A crowd of pretty young women surrounded him, softly urging him to have a drink before leaving.

Song Nanqing’s expression stiffened; his smile was uglier than a cry. He could only watch as Shen Heng walked toward him step by step.

Chun Jian, that jinx, why did everything he said come true?

The wooden wheels of the carriage rolled forward. The night market outside remained bustling; the sounds of vendors hawking their wares blended with the questions and answers of pedestrians, evoking the earthly vitality missing from the palace. Song Nanqing sat in the carriage, stealing glances. When his gaze met Shen Heng’s, he panicked and averted his eyes, lifting the window curtain to look at the lights outside in a futile attempt to mask his actions.

The carriage was quiet—so quiet that even the sound of the fabric of Song Nanqing’s clothes rubbing against the seat as he moved away could be heard clearly. In the corner of his vision, the man raised a hand, and Song Nanqing recoiled reflexively.

The Grand Tutor’s residence was a place of quiet amidst the chaos. The carriage turned into a spacious road and stopped before a stone path. A tall, swaying willow tree rustled its leaves in the night; the moon hung over the tips of the branches, casting curved shadows that blended into a faint ink-like color.

Song Nanqing followed Shen Heng with slow, dragging steps. His moon-white long robes were fresh and elegant. He had chosen the understated attire specifically to avoid notice, but the pale color only made his skin appear fairer and more luminous, his peach-blossom eyes intoxicating.

He kept his head down, stiff and tense due to the anticipation of an unknown punishment, his footsteps disordered as he followed the person beside him. He stumbled as he crossed the high wooden threshold.

The air rushed past his cheeks as a sudden sense of weightlessness struck. Before Song Nanqing could panic, he felt a powerful, warm palm wrap around his waist, holding him firmly.

Shen Heng’s arm exerted strength, pulling the falling person back. His eyes landed on Song Nanqing’s dense, raven-black eyelashes, which trembled with a frequency that betrayed his nervousness. The arm pressed tightly against his waist seemed to imprison him in Shen Heng’s embrace. Their skin temperatures rose, a strange, tingling numbness spread from his lower back, and time seemed to stretch.

Song Nanqing stood firm, inhaling the scent of either the outdoor flowers or Shen Heng himself. He bit his lip and whispered, “Thank you, Master.”

“And?” Shen Heng did not treat him like an honored guest; even the servants had been dismissed. The vast princely mansion possessed every luxury, but compared to the palace, it was far quieter and more private.

Song Nanqing lifted his head slightly, defending himself. “I didn’t go there today to…”

To do what? To visit a brothel? To listen to music? Or to tell Shen Heng about his schemes? Song Nanqing lowered his eyelashes and stopped mid-sentence.

Crossing a corridor draped in wisteria flowers, they reached the open main hall. A round dining table sat in the center, laden with various dishes, primarily juicy, glistening grilled meats.

Shen Heng sat down to one side and asked calmly, “Are you hungry?”

Song Nanqing swallowed and nodded, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the table, yet he still maintained enough reason to try and defend himself.

“Eat first.” Shen Heng picked up chopsticks and handed them to his hand.

The Grand Tutor might have seemed like a man of refined and elegant tastes, but he was not one who lived without mortal appetites. The meals in his residence were savory, salty, and spicy meat dishes. Compared to the palace rules where one could not eat more than three bites of any dish, Song Nanqing could indulge himself far better here.

“Mmm, this is so delicious.” Song Nanqing stuffed his cheeks with a lamb chop. He glanced secretly at Shen Heng and held the meat out to his lips.

Seeing his expectant and cautious expression, Shen Heng leaned down and took a bite, not avoiding the possibility that it might be stained with the boy’s saliva.

Song Nanqing hooked his lips upward secretly, rubbing his knees against the other’s legs in a coquettish display. His charming and spoiled behavior was a far cry from the arrogant and domineering youth in the pleasure house.

The meal ended in mutual satisfaction. As Song Nanqing washed his hands under the service of a servant, his slender fingertips, perhaps due to the hot water, turned cherry pink, leaving faint water stains on the cotton towel.

The servant holding the towel kept his head down, trying to remain calm and not stare directly at the guest’s face, which was as beautiful as a lotus.

The Prince Regent had never allowed anyone to get close to him. Not to mention wives or concubines, there wasn’t even a maid with good looks serving him. People who wanted to curry favor had sent handsome young boys, only to have them all sent away. Over time, word spread that Shen Heng had no interest in beauty, a man of pure heart and deep Buddhist affinity.

The servant had only recently entered the mansion and had been promoted by the butler for his wit, but he had never seen the Prince Regent so close to anyone. The guest before him looked incredibly noble; standing there, he was like a rare, precious peony in full bloom. His eyes were bright and his smile charming, yet he carried an inexplicable sense of distance.

He wondered what their relationship could possibly be. It couldn’t be an illegitimate son, could it? The Master couldn’t possibly have a child that old.

“Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.” Song Nanqing threw the towel back after drying his hands. Finding the servant’s nervous appearance amusing and assuming he did not know his identity, he decided to tease him.

He leaned closer and joked about where he lived and his age, then asked if Shen Heng had any hidden beauties.

The servant said with a trembling voice, “This servant really does not know.”

Song Nanqing raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen him bring anyone back?”

“You are the first.” The other replied meekly. The answer pleased Song Nanqing immensely.

He patted the servant on the shoulder and laughed near his ear: “Keep up the good work.”

Footsteps sounded at the doorway. It was Shen Heng’s personal attendant, Zhu Xin. He walked over quickly, bowed respectfully to Song Nanqing, and said in a steady voice: “Young Master, the Master invites you to the study.”

Shen Heng’s original words were: Go see what is hindering His Majesty again, that he cannot walk.

Song Nanqing moved quickly to leave, the ring pendants at his waist clashing with a crisp, pleasant sound.

Zhu Xin looked at the servant holding the wooden tray and asked what had been said. After hearing the reply, he wore a meaningful smile.

“Since the Young Master told you to keep up the good work, you had better do so.”

“Small one, dare I ask what the background of that Young Master is?”

As the highest-ranking servant beside the Prince Regent, it was rare to see someone that Zhu Xin would treat with such respect.

Zhu Xin said: “He has a great background. Be respectful. You won’t have to do these menial tasks anymore; the study needs someone to organize calligraphy and paintings. Go and work there.”