That night.

A wide black carriage entered the city through Yanxing Gate. The night had drawn its curtain over Chang’an, and the lanes between the wards were wrapped in stillness. Only a few late travelers moved along the roads.

“Where are we?” This question broke the night’s quiet. Inside the carriage, Li Shu leaned against a double-sided embroidered bolster and asked.

Hong Luo, who was kneeling to one side, lifted the curtain and looked out. “Your Highness, we have just passed Huiji Market.”

As she spoke, the carriage turned right and began heading from Huiji Market in the direction of Thirteenth Prince’s Ward. But Li Shu said, “Do not go home yet.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Go to Xiankelai.” She had been busy all day and was quite hungry.

Hong Luo quickly relayed the instructions to the coachman, and the carriage turned sharply left, heading along Xuanyang Ward toward Zhuque Street.

Li Shu had gone out of the city early that morning.

The monks at Qianfu Temple all said that the departed must be honored with a sincere heart — that she must go in person every first and fifteenth of the month to offer incense. Only then could the departed sense the world’s lingering longing for them, and be fortunate enough to be reborn as human when they passed through the six cycles of reincarnation.

Li Shu had never believed in such things — but in anything that concerned her late mother, she was unfailingly obedient. So each month she made the trip outside the city to offer a stick of incense, and ate a few mouthfuls of bland and tasteless vegetarian fare in the bargain.

But because the fifteenth of the third month had happened to fall on the same day as the Crown Prince’s consort’s birthday, Li Shu had not been able to go yesterday and had to make up for it today instead.

She had spent the entire day at Qianfu Temple, only departing at dusk. Before leaving, she had donated another thousand taels of gold, instructing the monks to fully replate the gilded statues of the Buddha.

The abbot of Qianfu Temple, in receipt of such a sum, did not quite know whether to feel pleased or troubled. He felt at once that his temple had become permeated with a rather mercenary air. In all of Chang’an, Da Ci’en Temple was the most celebrated for its Buddhism, while Qianfu Temple was the most lavish of all the Buddhist temples. There was nothing to be done — when had they ever had such a free-spending patron as Princess Pingyang?

Li Shu was rather particular about food and disliked vegetarian dishes, especially the bland ones. Having spent the entire day at Qianfu Temple eating monastic fare, she was thoroughly tired of it, and her mouth had been tasteless for the whole day. She was now set on going to Xiankelai for a proper meal before returning to the mansion.

She absolutely had to eat meat — lots of meat. She quietly told herself this.

*

Wu Qing and the boy stood outside the private room for a while, and heard nothing significant from within.

Well, what was there to hear? The drug had been administered. All the strength had been drained — it was only to prevent any resistance that might injure the princess. It had happened before, with those common-born men. A few of them had had no money to speak of but had a good deal of backbone — putting on the air of preferring death to compliance.

And so the method had been changed: administer the drug first to take away their strength. When the effect slowly wore off and the body began to recover its vitality, that was when the true potency of the drug would kick in.

Wu Qing curved his lips in a smile.

He had done this sort of errand for Grand Princess Kangning more than once or twice. The Grand Princess changed her paramours frequently — some lasted as few as three to five days, others two to three months. The Grand Princess was not patient by nature and disliked seeing the same face appear too many times. Wu Qing was the sole exception. From the first time he had attended upon Grand Princess Kangning, a full three years had passed, by any count.

The reason the Grand Princess had kept him at her side for so long was twofold: first, because his looks were pleasing and delightful to the eye; and second, because he was skilled at sensing what she needed and always found ways to relieve her tedium. What tedium could a princess have, after all? She never lacked for food or drink. The only thing she lacked was companionship.

Wu Qing looked at his own reflection in the polished corridor pillar, catching a hazy image of his own face. He smoothed his hair and wondered inwardly — how long would the one in there be able to hold the Grand Princess’s attention this time?

The lamps burned bright. Wu Qing’s soft and delicate features were reflected in the smooth, deep red column of the corridor, yet his long brows were faintly drawn — tinged with a touch of unease.

The Grand Princess had always favored beautiful men. The paramours in her household all dressed and presented themselves as Wu Qing did, steeped in a powdered, perfumed air more feminine than any woman.

Perhaps because both of the Grand Princess’s former husbands had been exceedingly masculine. The Grand Princess had complained to him in private more than once: in those years when they had shared a bed, they were rough and clumsy, with no understanding of how to be tender.

Yet why had the Grand Princess suddenly taken a liking to Shen Xiao? That cold and austere bearing of his — one look was enough to tell that he was not the gentle and accommodating sort.

Wu Qing furrowed his brow again, wondering: perhaps the Grand Princess had changed her tastes?

He felt a flicker of unease. What if Shen Xiao truly won favor, and the Grand Princess neglected him from then on? What would he do then?

Over these past few years, though he had received some money from the Grand Princess, he had also grown accustomed to extravagance and had saved precious little. Without the Grand Princess as his backer, he was nothing more than a sixth-rank sinecure official without any real authority — he feared it would not be long before he tumbled back down into the mud.

While Wu Qing was still simmering in his unease, he suddenly heard footsteps on the staircase. He looked down — and saw Princess Pingyang ascending the stairs, with a restaurant attendant bowing and scraping obsequiously to show her the way.

Princess Pingyang was exceedingly fond of dining at Xiankelai. This was known not only to Wu Qing but to the vast majority of Chang’an’s residents.

There were any number of lavish restaurants along Zhuque Street, yet Princess Pingyang — with her extravagant tastes and discerning palate — favored this one above all others. This alone was enough to prove that Xiankelai had something truly exceptional about it. And so a great many trend-following nobles and aristocratic young men had poured into Xiankelai, propelling it to the position of Chang’an’s foremost restaurant.

Grand Princess Kangning had complained to Wu Qing in private that Princess Pingyang was extremely mercenary, running all manner of businesses on the side. That Xiankelai, she said, was in all likelihood owned by Princess Pingyang herself as proprietress.

In the social hierarchy — scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants — the merchant was always ranked last. Whether aristocratic family or imperial relative, investing in land and building estates was respectable. But going into trade… that was the province of the lowest class. And so Grand Princess Kangning held Princess Pingyang in disdain for exactly this reason.

Everyone loved money, yet everyone feared the taint of a mercenary spirit.

Wu Qing had not had many opportunities to see Princess Pingyang Li Shu. Counting on his fingers, he could manage it with one hand — and each time had been at a grand-scale end-of-year palace banquet.

In those moments, he had stood among a crowd of minor officials and looked back at the people occupying the topmost heights of the court — the Crown Prince, the Second Imperial Prince, the Xingyang Zheng family, the Lanling Xiao family, Duke Cuiguo — every one of them with the power to make the entire court tremble with a single stamp of the foot. Even Grand Princess Kangning was shut out from the pinnacle of power, yet Princess Pingyang stood in the midst of them all.

Fragrant garments and shimmering ornaments, golden hairpins glinting, engaging them in easy and brilliant conversation.

Wu Qing remembered how, in those moments, he had once dared to entertain an idle fantasy —

If he were to become Princess Pingyang’s paramour, would the power and wealth he held in his grasp be far greater than it was now?

Grand Princess Kangning lived solely on her annual princess’s stipend. Princess Pingyang had so many streams of income flowing to her. Grand Princess Kangning’s influence was limited — she had only been able to secure him a sixth-rank sinecure post. But Princess Pingyang… what might she be able to do?

Wu Qing stared at Princess Pingyang, his eyes filled with a burning, hungry fire.

*

Li Shu had barely reached the third floor when she felt someone staring at her intently. She raised her eyes, and her own sharp gaze returned the look without courtesy.

A woman dressed as a man?

That was Li Shu’s first impression of Wu Qing.

Noting the deep crimson official robes the person wore, Li Shu quickly placed him — ah, a Senior Court Gentleman of the Ministry of Personnel, one of those powerless sinecures. He was most likely a paramour elevated to his post through Grand Princess Kangning’s recommendation. No wonder he looked so thoroughly feminine.

The court sinecures had multiplied considerably in recent times. Such officials drew their salaries without needing to report for duty at the crack of dawn each morning, and held no real authority of any kind — they were essentially men the court paid to keep in idleness. Such comfortable and undemanding posts were given either to junior sons of great aristocratic families as a secured livelihood, or bestowed upon various princesses as a reward for their paramours.

Grand Princess Kangning had three or four paramours occupying sinecure positions. The “woman-dressed-as-a-man” before her was the highest-ranking among them, holding a full first-grade sixth rank.

He is presumably one of Kangning’s most valued attendants, Li Shu thought. What was this “woman-dressed-as-a-man” called again? Never mind — she had forgotten. In any case, he was not an important person.

Her mind had its limits, and unlike Cui Jinzhi with his gift for remembering everything at a single glance, Li Shu only bothered to keep track of the important people at court. Those who were neither important nor likely to get in her way were not even worth the expenditure of a glance.

Li Shu withdrew her gaze and walked toward the Jade and Gold Pavilion. But where Li Shu had no intention, Wu Qing had plenty. He took a few small, quick steps forward, clasped his hands, and bowed. “Your servant, Wu Qing, Senior Court Gentleman of the Ministry of Personnel, pays respects to Princess Pingyang.”

Having no idea what manner of man Princess Pingyang preferred, and thinking perhaps that being overly effeminate was not to her taste, Wu Qing privately decided to project more vigor. And so this bow was offered in an unusually full-throated voice — for once genuinely resonant.

Down the corridor, this voice carried into the firmly closed private room.

*

In the last moment before he lost consciousness, the final thought that passed through Shen Xiao’s mind was: this person is not Princess Pingyang.

Then the mist closed over his eyes, and he could resist no more. A force of a thousand pounds seemed to press against his forehead, driving him straight backward. Like a pillar collapsing with a thunderous crash, Shen Xiao toppled straight and rigid to the floor. Fortunately, the private room was carpeted everywhere with dense and thick padding, and he felt no pain when he landed.

Shen Xiao lay flat on his back on the floor. Gradually he felt the dizziness ease somewhat, and the swirling mist that had clouded his sight began to disperse at last — but it seemed to take his clear consciousness along with it as it cleared. His eyes were open, but he stared blankly up at the ornately painted ceiling beams, barely managing to hold onto the last thread of his reason.

A burning heat, more intense than anything before, surged through him. Shen Xiao felt his very palms growing hot, as though they might scorch a hole through the carpet. His heart pounded — faster than it had ever beat before — as though it might leap free of his chest. From deep within his chest, his heart was crying out for something, thirsting for some contact it could not name.

Too hot. That was the single coherent thought remaining to him. The only rational impulse that remained was a desire to tear off his clothes.

Too hot.

He tried to move his hand and found that the body that had been unable to move before could now move freely. Shen Xiao quickly raised his hand and clawed at his own collar like a wild animal.

The dark blue official robe was wrenched loose; the collar of the white inner garment fell open too. He gasped and heaved, his chest rising and falling. The body beneath that official robe, it turned out, was not as lean as he appeared from day to day.

“Pfft.”

A laugh rang in his ear.

A woman’s laugh.

As though only then realizing there was someone else in the room, Shen Xiao turned his gaze to the side and saw the princess seated at his waist level, looking down at him with an expression of ambiguous meaning.

He had a vague memory of having seen her before — at the Qujiang new examination banquet. But there had been many princesses of the imperial household in attendance that day, and Shen Xiao could not in that moment recall which princess this was.

The mist before his eyes dispersed entirely, and Shen Xiao saw her face clearly.

Mature. Alluring. Beautiful — these were the several words that surfaced swiftly in his mind.

But her specific features, the height of her brows and the depth of her eyes, her age — he had no attention to spare for any of that. He looked at her and felt that this was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Desire stirred and grew in the dark. That scorching heat found at last a place to pour itself.

The last scrap of clear awareness, seemingly unable to endure the incense filling the room, slipped out from Shen Xiao’s mind and crept through the crack at the foot of the door to escape.

He wanted her. After that final thread of consciousness dissolved, this was the only thing screaming within Shen Xiao.

Shen Xiao raised his hand and seized the princess’s wrist. With a light pull, the outer robe draped over her wrapped bodice scattered to the floor. Bare shoulders were revealed, and a radiant brilliance filled the room.

Pressing his left hand to the floor, Shen Xiao slowly pushed himself to sit up. His right hand was reluctant to leave the princess’s pale, slender wrist — it even began to travel upward, moving the way one strokes the most exquisite porcelain, until at last it came to rest upon her smooth, rounded shoulder.

Grand Princess Kangning laughed. She was quite satisfied with the situation.

She liked to sleep with men — she did not like to chase them. When she took a fancy to a man, she would use this method to bring him to hand. If he proved cooperative, he could continue to enter her chambers. If she found she did not care for him, it would end after once.

Grand Princess Kangning felt the grip of those sinew-and-bone hands upon her shoulder and found Shen Xiao’s touch deeply pleasurable.

Perhaps this person could remain in her chambers for a good long while, she thought.

Shen Xiao leaned closer and breathed in the fragrance of her body. He seemed ensnared — he drew in a deep, long breath, lowered his head, and moved to press his lips to the side of her neck. And at that very moment —

“Your servant, Wu Qing, Senior Court Gentleman of the Ministry of Personnel, pays respects to Princess Pingyang.”

The sound was like a thunderclap. It traveled down the corridor and crashed against the firmly closed door of the private room, and in the crack beneath the door, that last fleeing thread of clear consciousness was struck directly and blasted back into Shen Xiao’s mind.

In an instant, his awareness was perfectly clear.