The Young Marquis is Ruining the Court! - Chapter 17

Chi Zhou realized he was dreaming.

Unlike his previous dreams, which felt dark, deep and as though he were falling into an abyss of ice, this dreamscape was exceptionally decadent and colorful. It felt like overripe fruit resting quietly on a high pedestal, radiating a seductive fragrance that beckoned one to taste.

He opened his eyes to a world of brilliant lanterns and flickering candlelight.

The scene was adorned with intricate hairpins and swaying tassels, while incense from ornate burners drifted in curling mists of smoke. Chi Zhou heard the clinking of wine cups, the sounds of rowdy laughter and scolding, and the low, melodious singing of a graceful performer.

The sheer clamor of the crowd made it immediately obvious where he was: a vivid, sensual playground of vanity and desire.

It was a spacious room equipped with everything one could need—wine tables, small couches, lute stands, and lounging chairs. There were about twenty people inside. Some laughed as they held a companion’s waist to taste the mellow wine from their lips, while others feigned drunkenness to collapse into a beauty’s embrace.

Amidst this chaotic, distorted space, Chi Zhou saw the figure of “himself.”

He was sitting on a small couch by the window. It seemed to be early autumn, as his clothes were somewhat thin. A breeze blew through the half-open window, and “Chi Zhou” leaned against the wall, drinking a cup of wine against the backdrop of the moon.

“Marquis,” a young boy approached, clutching a wine pot. He bent his knees and knelt on the couch, crawling forward from the foot of the bed. His arms brushed against “Chi Zhou’s” body, seemingly by accident.

“Chi Zhou” didn’t dodge. He simply looked at him with a smile, an empty wine cup in his hand.

The boy was dressed in pink. A hint of intoxication flushed his face, making him look as lovely as a peach blossom. Like a bone-less snake, he refused to take a normal path, choosing instead to crawl inch by inch from Chi Zhou’s feet to his front. He whispered, “Let me pour more wine for you.”

“Chi Zhou” watched him with a lingering smile. “Who told you to come here?”

“I came of my own accord.”

Whether “Chi Zhou” believed him or not was unclear. He raised his hand as if to touch the boy’s face, but halfway there, he changed his target. He tucked a stray lock of hair, loosened during the crawl behind the boy’s ear, never actually touching his soft skin.

He glanced toward the thick of the crowd, then placed the wine cup in front of the boy in pink.

A flash of joy crossed the boy’s face. He immediately tilted the pot and filled the cup to the brim.

“Chi Zhou” showed no resistance. He raised the cup toward the wine table as if greeting someone, then bent his arm to bring it to his lips.

Just as he was about to drink, he caught the boy’s gaze as if by accident. His movements paused slightly, and in a tone both lazy and tender, he asked softly, “Where is yours?”

The boy was clearly stunned. “Mine?”

“Chi Zhou” laughed. “Where is your cup? We are already on the ‘bed,’ are you not going to share a cross-cupped wine with me?”

He deliberately misinterpreted the couch as a bed, acting like a tender and devoted lover. In this marketplace of vanity where smiles were bought with gold and silver, he seemed to offer his heart far too easily.

He smiled and said, “Go get a cup and drink with me.”

The joy on the boy’s face intensified. He clearly hadn’t expected things to progress this way. He nodded frantically, not even caring that he was barefoot. He scrambled off the couch, ran a few steps to grab an empty cup, and hurried back.

“Chi Zhou” reached out his hand. Thinking the Marquis wanted to hold hands, the boy timidly offered his own. However, “Chi Zhou” merely flicked his wrist and said gently, “The wine pot. I will pour for you.”

The boy hesitated. “This… this isn’t according to the rules.”

“Chi Zhou” burst into a laugh, his eyes curving into crescents, enchanting and soul-stirring. “We are already here, do we still need to talk about rules?”

The boy glanced back tentatively, as if receiving a signal, and eventually handed over the pot.

“Chi Zhou” took it, played with the handle for a moment, and then slightly raised his hand. The clear wine gurgled into the boy’s cup.

He set the pot down and leaned forward until their cheeks nearly touched, making it seem as though a wine-scented kiss was imminent.

The youth instinctively closed his eyes. His eyelashes trembled slightly, and his neck tensed into a beautiful, fragile curve.

“Chi Zhou” stopped right there, looking at him and smiling as if he were someone deeply cherished. He blew a breath of air against the boy’s ear and sighed softly, as if in regret, “How could I be so abrupt with such a beauty?”

Then, he raised his hand to hook the boy’s arm, maintaining that extremely close distance as they exchanged a cross-cupped drink, their breaths mingling.

To an outsider, this looked like their wedding night.

And indeed, that seemed to be the case. “Chi Zhou” set his cup down. Seeing the boy tremblingly do the same, he couldn’t help but let out a “pfft” and laughed. His eyes held a glimmer of seemingly genuine mirth, filled with silent affection and indulgence.

He reached up, pinched the boy’s earlobe, and sighed softly, “How can you be so cute?”

The boy’s face turned bright red instantly.

“Chi Zhou” let go of the cup, patted the boy’s back with a smile, and leaned back into his original position. “Go play for a bit, come find me later.”

The youth was reluctant to leave, but “Chi Zhou” tilted his chin and repeated, “Go play.”

This time, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The boy hesitated for only a second before obeying.

However, he was still unwilling to leave just yet. He leaned in close to “Chi Zhou’s” cheek, seemingly wanting to steal a kiss.

“Chi Zhou” turned his face to avoid it, then raised a hand against the boy’s chest, saying softly, “The night is long, don’t be in such a hurry.”

At first listen, the words sounded tender and flirtatious. But upon closer thought, they carried a heavy undertone of warning.

The boy froze, feeling a sudden surge of fear. But then he felt the hand on his chest move upward along the fabric of his clothes until it stopped at the side of his neck.

“Chi Zhou” hooked a fingertip and tapped the boy’s jaw with his nail. “Be good.”

It was like flirting with a pet or teasing a cat or dog. It was incredibly flippant and utterly debauched.

But the boy was instantly relieved. He stepped back as told and merged into the crowd of people who were so tightly bunched together it was impossible to tell who was embracing whom.

“Chi Zhou” looked up lazily for a few moments, then shifted his gaze out the window, quietly watching the full moon in the sky.

It was a good season, and the moon was full.

As if he had just realized it, the corners of his mouth curled up. He whispered, “It’s the Ghost Festival.”

The fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month. Only a group of profligate young masters like them, who feared no taboos, would come out at night seeking pleasure.

He leaned against the wall and napped for a while, then patted his robes and stood up.

He hadn’t walked more than two steps before someone caught up and asked, “Marquis, where are you going?”

“Chi Zhou” turned his head and saw it was that young boy again. He clicked his tongue and said, “To the latrine.”

The boy looked sheepish, wanting to follow but feeling too embarrassed.

“Chi Zhou” coaxed him smoothly, “Be good. I said I’d stay with you, so wait here.”

After saying that, he stepped out, ignoring the boy’s hesitant and conflicted expression behind him, acting as if he wasn’t the same person who had just praised him for being cute.

A row of lanterns hung in the corridor, seemingly competing with the moon for brightness.

The private rooms he passed were all boisterous and noisy. One only had to push open a door to step into another world of sensory indulgence.

“Chi Zhou” walked slowly to the end of the corridor, wanting to go down for some fresh air. However, he saw a person standing in the shadows of the stairs, staring at him in silence.

His footsteps faltered. He didn’t quite understand why this person was here.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Chi Zhou” turned his toes, about to head back.

In the next second, he heard two people coming up the stairs. One of them was a fat man with large ears, his face flushed red from drinking. Reeking of alcohol, he had his arm around a beauty’s waist, grinning lewdly as she struggled to support his arm and help him climb.

The girl was small and weak. Dragging him was already difficult; her head was bowed under his weight, yet she still had to smile and coax this “dead fat pig.” She couldn’t see the path ahead clearly at all.

Without noticing, they slammed straight into the person standing at the top of the stairs.

The “pig” cried out in pain. He roared and raised his foot to kick, “You blind thing! Your grandpa is right here, you think you can block my way?!”

“Chi Zhou’s” expression changed instantly. His turning toes didn’t finish the turn; instead, he took a large stride forward.

The kick was about to land, but the person didn’t dodge. He just kept staring straight at him.

Like a ghost appearing on the Hungry Ghost Festival, he was only there to claim one person’s life, so he cared nothing for his surroundings.

“Chi Zhou” was so angry his eyes turned red, his jaw clenched tight.

Drinking all that wine hadn’t made him impulsive, but at this moment, he seemed to lose his mind. As soon as he drew near, he grabbed the person and pulled them behind him with force. He raised his leg and kicked the fat man squarely in the chest. Meanwhile, he didn’t forget to reach out his other hand to pull the girl away from the man.

With several loud thuds, the “fat pig” tumbled down the stairs. The fall woke him up completely. He groaned and wailed a few times, his mouth spewing foul insults.

People from both floors had heard the noise and were coming to watch the excitement. “Chi Zhou” took off his outer robe, threw it backward to cover the youth behind him from head to toe, and then spoke coldly, “Say one more word?”

His voice wasn’t loud. Compared to the fat man’s wailing, it was almost quiet, yet it was sharp enough for everyone present to hear clearly.

The man seemed to realize something. He stopped his cursing and sat paralyzed on the stairs, looking up.

“Chi Zhou” stood against the light, looking down at the man with a cold, icy gaze, as if he were looking at an ant.

Perhaps he would have looked at an ant with more mercy.

He spoke, his voice freezing, sounding nothing like the tender and meticulous person in the room earlier, “Come to the Marquis’s manor tomorrow for your medical fees. Now, get out.”

He left those words and turned to walk away, not bothering to see the man’s reaction or caring if he would actually leave.

He knew very well that once he spoke, there was no possibility of being defied.

“Chi Zhou” gripped the person behind him, his fingers so tight they left marks on the other’s wrist.

He walked back, found an empty private booth, and was about to enter when a timid voice came from behind, “Marquis?”

The person being dragged like a puppet snapped back to reality and turned their head sharply. Though their vision was obscured by the fabric of the robe, the intensity of their gaze still made the person being stared at shrink back a step.

“Chi Zhou” looked back and saw that it was indeed the boy in pink who had followed them. He looked a bit scared, but he gathered his courage to call out again, “Marquis.”

His voice was soft and beautiful, like a little deer. He didn’t ask who was being held, nor did he persistently cling. He just stood there, raising his teary, frightened eyes toward him, looking utterly pitiable.

“Chi Zhou” suppressed his rising irritation and said warmly, “Go back first. I’ll find you in a moment.”

It seemed this single sentence had exhausted his patience. As soon as he finished speaking, he pushed open the door in front of him and yanked the “wooden stake” of a youth behind him forward. The movement wasn’t gentle at all, causing the youth’s shin to slam hard against the threshold.

The door closed, shutting out the noise. The room was unlit; only faint moonlight filtered through the window frames, casting a pale, silvery glow.

Once “Chi Zhou” pulled the person into the room, he didn’t hide his temper at all. He changed positions so his back was against the door, then raised his foot and kicked. He laughed out of pure rage, “Xie Jiu Jiu, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you? You dare come to a place like this?”

Clearly, when the other was about to be kicked by someone else, “Chi Zhou” had been consumed by rage, refusing to let him be touched even slightly. But now that he was doing the kicking himself, he didn’t hold back at all, sending the youth crashing into the tables and chairs.

Chi Zhou saw the youth collapse to the floor. The robe covering him slid off, and moonlight hit his face, making his exquisite features look almost inhumanly beautiful.

He heard Xie Jiu speak, stubborn and calm, but he only asked one question: “Who was he?”

He didn’t complain that “Chi Zhou” could come while he couldn’t; he didn’t show the indignation or grievance one should have after being kicked.

He simply asked calmly, “Chi Zhou, who is he this time?”

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