The muffled screams of Xiyue echoed from the backyard. Yin-shi’s face was as cold as frost. "Yin Zhuli!" She took a step forward, but before she could act, Tan Yue caught her. With a swift, light tap of his right hand on her pressure point, he sent her into a slumber and held her steady. "Old Madam? Old Madam?"
As he called out repeatedly, the Head of the Yin Family gave her orders: "Mother is unwell. Tan Yue, take the Old Madam back to her room and summon Physician Ke."
Tan Yue understood immediately. Together with the maidservants, he escorted Yin-shi back to Tingtao Pavilion. Silence fell over the banquet. Yin Zhuli’s smile remained unchanged. "I have failed in my management of this household; I apologize for the unsightly scene. Allow me to offer a toast to everyone as a token of my regret."
The guests were no fools. They immediately raised their glasses, and the atmosphere quickly returned to its usual liveliness. In the backyard, Xiyue was tied to a long bench, her mouth stuffed with a cloth at some point. These guests were all from prominent families; there wasn't a house among them that hadn't beaten a servant or two to death. Some of the more thrill-seeking individuals even went to the back to watch.
The staves, as thick as the mouth of a bowl, struck the flesh-and-blood body one after another. Since it was a sentence of death, the executioners spared no strength. Before long, Xiyue’s clothes were stained red. Her struggles and muffled groans weakened from frantic to faint, until finally, every strike sent bits of flesh flying. Her limbs remained tightly bound, and blood began to seep from her nose, mouth, and eyes. She looked up, her eyes fixed on Yin Zhuli with pure venom. Yin Zhuli met her gaze with a smile, though a murderous aura flickered between her brows. For a fleeting moment, her expression bore a striking resemblance to the high-ranking minister, Qu Tianji.
After a hundred and eighty strikes, Xiyue’s face was as pale as golden paper, and the breath had left her. Yin Zhuli waved a hand. "Drag her out and dispose of her."
The young Prince Shen had also wandered over. Yin Zhuli turned and covered his eyes, her voice extremely soft. "Don't look. You'll only be frightened again."
The onlookers turned to see her acting with such tenderness, appearing to dote on Prince Shen in every possible way. Recalling her ruthlessness just moments ago, they felt a chill run down their spines.
Until the very moment of her death, Xiyue could not believe that Yin Zhuli actually dared to kill her. In the end, Head Steward Hao felt a touch of pity and ordered her to be placed in a thin coffin. As she was being taken away, he sighed a single sentence: "You clearly had a path to life; why did you have to mention Master Tang..."
Xiyue had signed a life-contract with the Yin family, meaning she had sold herself to them for the rest of her life. In those days, it was perfectly normal for a great family to beat a servant to death. However, for the Head of the Yin Family to kill the Old Madam’s personal maid—that carried a different weight entirely.
Everyone knew that the winds of change had truly swept through Fortune City.
That evening, after the guests had dispersed, the Head of the Yin Family was ordered to kneel in the ancestral hall as punishment. Yin-shi had not yet woken up. Tang Yin held a whip in his hand, but after a long silence, he could not bring himself to strike. His hand shook with rage. "Is your master’s temperament so petty that he cannot even endure a single word from a maid?!"
Yin Zhuli looked up at him, still wearing a cheeky grin. "Master has the magnanimity of a gentleman; how could he possibly care about such a trivial matter? However, I have long harbored the intent to kill her. She needed to be taught that a servant shouldn't look down on their betters!"
Tang Yin was frustrated by her lack of remorse. He wanted to give her a sound thrashing, but he worried that since her wedding was imminent, any injuries would be problematic. After a long silence, he finally threw down a command: "Kneel for three days!"
Yin Zhuli watched him leave in a huff. He had been her tutor for eighteen years, and this was the first time he had punished her so severely.
As she knelt in the ancestral hall, she knew that while Tang Yin did not lose his temper easily, once he was angry, he was difficult to coax. This meant she certainly wouldn't be getting any dinner tonight. The prospect of kneeling for three days and nights made her future look quite bleak.
During the second watch of the night, just as her boredom was reaching its peak, the door to the ancestral hall creaked open, and a figure slipped inside. Yin Zhuli turned to see the young Prince Shen. He was still dressed in his pale apricot robe, but because of the night chill, he had added a plain-colored cloak. As he walked through the flickering candlelight and swaying shadows, he looked like a beautiful painting come to life.
Yin Zhuli smiled slightly. "What are you doing here?"
Prince Shen unfastened his cloak, holding a bundle wrapped in oil paper. "You scoundrel, I figured you’d be suffering while kneeling. Hurry up and eat."
The Head of the Yin Family was not one to be polite. She took the bundle, which contained a roast chicken, and began to feast. Prince Shen looked around. "So this is the Yin family's ancestral hall? It’s actually more grand than the Chengtian Pavilion in the palace!"
Yin Zhuli swallowed a large piece of chicken, thumping her chest. "This is where the ancestors live; how could it not be grand? I say, you brought food but didn't bring any wine or even water? You idiot, you're going to choke me to death..."
Prince Shen glared at her. "You're lucky to have anything at all, and yet you dare to complain!"
Chewing on a chicken leg, Yin Zhuli nudged him. "So thirsty. Your Highness, go find some water."
Prince Shen ignored her. She rubbed her face against him. "Good Ninth Lord, go find some water. When you get back, I'll sing you a song."
Outsiders were not permitted to enter the Yin ancestral hall, and Shen Tingjiao had never been here before, so he was unfamiliar with the layout. But seeing that she truly seemed to be choking, he had no choice but to step out and try his luck. Just as he exited, he saw someone approaching. The newcomer also spotted him and stopped in his tracks, turning as if to leave.
Recognizing him, Prince Shen hurried to catch up. "Master Tang, you..."
Tang Yin didn't wait for him to speak. He reached into a food basket, pulled out a jar of wine, and handed it to him before turning to walk away. Prince Shen saw him walking quickly, appearing displeased. Knowing that trespassing in the ancestral hall was already a transgression, he didn't dare pursue him further. Looking at the wine jar in his hand, he was struck by a sense of wonder—how much unspoken understanding did this master and disciple share?
Upon his return, Yin Zhuli sipped the wine while he sat on a prayer mat beside her. Before long, he grew bored. "Didn't you say you were going to sing?"
The Head of the Yin Family reached out and wrapped an arm around his waist. She picked up two chicken bones and tapped them against the wine jar to test the sound. Prince Shen, disgusted by the grease on her hands, tried his best to squirm away, but she began to sing softly:
"I loosen your buttons, I untie your silken sash.
The scent of orchid and musk fills the quiet study,
A forbidden tryst that leads one astray.
Alas, why won't you turn your face toward me?"
The bones tapped against the jar, producing a light, crisp sound with a brisk and cheerful rhythm:
"Holding a piece of soft jade and warm fragrance in my arms,
Like Liu and Ruan arriving at Mount Tiantai.
Spring comes to the world, flowers flaunt their colors.
Willow waists sway gently, flower hearts softly part,
And dew drops as the peony blooms."
Reeking of wine, her lips seemed to brush against his ear, her breath tickling him.
"A touch of numbness spreads,
Like fish and water in perfect harmony.
The butterfly wantonly plucks the tender, fragrant pistil.
You half-push, half-yield; I am both startled and enamored,
As my lips press against your fragrant cheek."
After finishing the song, she planted a heavy kiss on his cheek. It took a moment for Prince Shen to process the lyrics, but once he did, his temper flared. He immediately broke free from her embrace, stood up, and began to kick her. Yin Zhuli rolled away on the floor, doing nothing but laugh. Shen Tingjiao was furious; he stepped forward and stomped on her a few more times before shouting, "This is your family's ancestral hall! What kind of lewd and filthy songs are you singing in front of all your ancestors!"
Yin Zhuli lay on the floor, laughing so hard she couldn't straighten her back. "Our Yin ancestors are no ordinary ancestors. Think about it—they've been lonely here for so many years; perhaps they've been longing to hear some erotic tunes. Besides, food and sex are basic human nature. Whether one is alive or dead, who doesn't have needs?"
"You! You, you, you..." Shen Tingjiao was so angry he couldn't form a complete sentence for a long time. "You unfilial child, you even desecrate your own ancestors!"
Yin Zhuli patted his cheek lightly, still unable to stop smiling, though her expression held a trace of solemnity. "The word 'filial' is not something meant only for the lips."
***
In late April, as the wedding date for the Head of the Yin Family approached, everyone in Fortune City was busy with preparations. Yin Zhuli, of course, could not stay idle. His Highness the Ninth Lord was the type who didn't know the price of rice or salt and had never lifted a finger for labor; letting him prepare for the wedding would be like handing a fat sheep over to be slaughtered.
To make matters worse, that man He Jian was stingy to a fault. The betrothal gifts were so meager that Head Steward Hao was embarrassed to even mention them. Yet He Jian remained righteous: "Head Steward Hao, it’s not as if you don't know our Ninth Lord. Even many of the furnishings in the Prince Fulu Manor were only placed there because the Head of the Yin Family secretly subsidized them. Now, even if these betrothal gifts were heavy, wouldn't the wool just be coming off the... er, sheep's back anyway?"
When these words reached Yin Zhuli’s ears, she only laughed. "Though it's a joke, it's also the truth."
That night, Ke Tingfeng was in the courtyard drying medicinal herbs that needed to be kept out of the sun when Yin Zhuli suddenly walked in. He had always been cold toward her, only staying at Fortune City because he had owed them a massive debt years ago. He had essentially sold his services to pay it off.
However, the Yin family had not treated him poorly. Over the years, they had supplied every medicinal herb he required. As time passed and he grew settled, he simply couldn't be bothered to leave.
Seeing Yin Zhuli now, he didn't even stand up, merely lifting his eyelids. "What is it?"
Yin Zhuli paced around the area for a while before finally saying with a smile, "Quack—ahem, Physician Ke. You see, it won't be long before I am wed, and the Ninth Lord... well, you know, his body is frail. So I wanted to find some, um, medicine to enhance the fun in the bedroom."
A row of black lines seemed to descend over Ke Tingfeng’s forehead, yet he maintained the professional tone of a doctor. "I only wonder if this is to enhance the Ninth Prince’s fun, or the Head of the Family’s fun?"
Yin Zhuli coughed lightly, her voice becoming a bit vague. "Is there a difference?"
Ke Tingfeng finished spreading the honeysuckle, washed his hands, and went into the room. A moment later, he returned and handed her a porcelain bottle. "One pill at a time. Take it with wine; do not take it with tea. The medicinal properties are quite mild, but it will be enough to enhance the fun."
Chinese | English | Notes
-|-|-
听涛阁 | Tingtao Pavilion | "Listening to Waves" Pavilion, Yin-shi's residence.
柯停风 | Ke Tingfeng | The Yin family's resident physician.
承天阁 | Chengtian Pavilion | A grand building in the Imperial Palace.
何简 | He Jian | An advisor or steward serving Shen Tingjiao.
闺中助兴 | Bedroom enhancements | Euphemism for aphrodisiacs or aids for intimacy.
