In the early morning, a thin mist hung over the lake. Shen Che stood by the water’s edge, gazing into the distance at the tents on the opposite shore. His expression was hidden in the fog, making it hard to read.
Nangui and Lianzi knelt fearfully at Shen Che’s feet, their heads bowed and not daring to move.
Shen Che stood there for a long time in silence before turning and walking away, not heading towards Ji Cheng’s tent.
Lianzi, drenched in sweat, finally looked up. The temperature on the grasslands varied greatly between day and night. Although the midday heat was unbearable, the mornings were quite cool. Her excessive sweating was a clear sign of her fear.
“Nangui, Sister, does this mean the Young Master is not angry with us?” Lianzi asked.
Nangui sighed and replied, “He’s just noting this down for now. He wants us to serve the Young Mistress properly and will decide on any punishment later.”
“But why didn’t the Young Master go to see the Young Mistress?” Lianzi asked, puzzled.
Lianzi had not been by Ji Cheng’s side long enough to understand all the details. However, Nangui had been with Ji Cheng for many years. Although she had not served Ji Cheng directly in Jinbei, she had always been close by, aware of her affairs and those concerning Ling Ziyun.
In this instance, Ji Cheng’s direct journey to the Great Qin military camp made her intentions quite clear—she wanted to see, or at least catch a glimpse of, Ling Ziyun.
If Nangui could anticipate this, surely Shen Che would have considered it as well.
Night had fallen over Tongluo City, blanketing it in silence. Yet, certain ancient professions thrived in the quiet hours, reaching their peak of allure and prosperity.
As long as men existed, such businesses would never vanish. Even in the most remote corners, small earthen huts would conduct their trade.
Naturally, the place Second Young Master Shen frequented was bright and opulent – the foremost den of luxury in Tongluo City.
Strangely, while other industries had declined to varying degrees during the past two years of continuous warfare on the grasslands, the flesh trade flourished, even becoming difficult to secure a spot.
Shen Che sat facing east in an exceptionally large tent. Adorned with jewels, perfumed with fragrances, and laid with exquisite Persian carpets, it resembled a dragon’s palace on earth. The cost of this tent rivaled that of famous pavilions in the capital.
The host, an Eastern Turkic noble, was a fence-sitter who had placed bets on both Western Turks and Great Qin. Now, enticed by Shen Che, he seemed eager to add more chips to Great Qin’s side.
In the center, on the carpet, a Hu dancer performed joyfully and seductively. The drumbeats were quick, making hearts race in sync as if longing to match the rhythm’s ebb and flow.
When appreciating dance, Shen Che preferred Hu dancers. They danced with extra vigor, sparing no movement of waist and hips as if wishing to devour you whole. In contrast, the dances of the Central Plains were too reserved, boringly so.
Even Ji Cheng’s sword dance was restrained, her waist and hips seemingly locked in a straight line, leaving no room for imagination. Shen Che had often wanted to offer suggestions but feared Ji Cheng might throw him out. After all, it wasn’t yet time for him to act domineering.
Shen Che lifted the wine from the table and drank it in one gulp. Tuonaili’s beard flipped forward as he laughed heartily, “Good, what excellent drinking capacity! Second Young Master, let me toast you again.”
An old lecher trying to intoxicate a young one – when people revel together, they form an unusual bond. Having seen each other’s ugliest sides, some unspeakable words become easier to say.
Shen Che accepted all comers. Two Hu courtesans sat beside him, rubbing up and down his arms, pouring wine, and feeding it to him.
In reality, Shen Che wasn’t enjoying himself as much as he appeared. While Hu dancers were superior for dancing, he preferred Central Plains women for drinking companionship. They were more sensible, lacked the pungent fox musk smell, and had skin as delicate as congealed cream, without visible pores.
Fortunately, as the drum rhythm changed, another group of beauties took the stage.
These were true beauties.
On the vast grasslands, aside from the unfaithful Second Young Madam Shen, the most beautiful was probably the one before his eyes now – Madame Zaina.
Zaina’s waist was incredibly flexible, twisting more dramatically than a water snake. In time with the drums, she slapped her raised right hip with her hands.
Tuonaili regretted his decision. Had he known such a beauty existed, he would have kept her for himself. Now he could only wait to enjoy Shen Che’s leftovers.
Shen Che’s gaze grew hazy as he watched Zaina, thinking, “This is what you call dancing.” If only Ji Cheng would thrust and pat like that for him, he wouldn’t care about her willingness or her pride after bearing children.
The truth was, if Ji Cheng truly couldn’t do it, that would be one thing. But Shen Che knew she could – he had seen it that Qixi Festival years ago. The image of her twisting waist had been etched in his mind ever since, teasing him every few days.
Zaina sat in Shen Che’s lap, grinding her hips in a fan-like motion, her eyes flashing with triumph as she looked at him.
Shen Che pushed Zaina off his legs.
Zaina smoothly sat down next to Shen Che, nudging away the Hu courtesan who had been keeping him company. Her eyes swept over Shen Che’s crotch, and with a mocking smile, she asked, “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
It was indeed uncomfortable, but unfortunately, Zaina wasn’t the remedy.
The wine had reached its peak of pleasure. For the host to linger would be inconsiderate. With a glance from Tuonaili, all the attendants in the tent quietly withdrew.
Zaina rested her head on Shen Che’s shoulder, her fingers tracing lightly across his chest. “They say you’re a romantic wanderer, but you don’t seem like one to me. What kind of romantic doesn’t pluck the wildflowers before him?” She tilted her head to lick Shen Che’s ear.
“The price is too high. I can’t afford it,” Shen Che said, gently pinching Zaina’s chin.
Their faces were so close that the slightest movement forward would bring their lips together. Zaina inhaled Shen Che’s scent with a hint of infatuation and giggled coquettishly, “What if this slave offers herself freely?”
“That would be most kind,” Shen Che said, catching Zaina’s mischievous hand.
Zaina glanced at Shen Che from under her eyelids, broke free from his grasp, and reached for her desired destination. Breathing slightly heavily, she said, “Do you know, when I first saw you, you were completely engulfed in flames, utterly yang in nature. Your little wife hasn’t satisfied you, has she?” Zaina stood up and straddled Shen Che’s legs again.
“The one by your side, surrounded by water – she looks quite grown. Why hasn’t she found a man yet? Is she your wife’s younger brother or sister?” Zaina asked teasingly.
One had to admit that being with Zaina was quite stimulating and in a different way than before. Previously, Shen Che hadn’t been married. Men probably all have a base nature – after marriage, the wildflowers outside seem especially fragrant.
Shen Che gripped Zaina’s waist, immobilizing her.
Zaina twisted defiantly and whispered in Shen Che’s ear, “When I first saw Zheli, he too was surrounded by fire, burning fiercely, utterly yang. But you know what? He wasn’t as capable as you. Although your flame auras are similar, his fire was red, while yours is blue. It looks harmless, but it’s scorching hot.”
Shen Che gently pushed Zaina away. It seemed the secret techniques of the Zoroastrian faith indeed had some merit, allowing Zaina to discern such details.
“Should I call you Second Young Master, or would you prefer Lord Jing?” Zaina asked softly.
Shen Che remained silent.
“I’m not an ambitious person. I have no interest in the cult’s deep palace secrets. I was born only interested in men, preferring the strongest ones, so I chose this useless skill. But sometimes, useless skills can be helpful. My lord, you may deceive others, but you can’t fool me.” Zaina began to breathe passionately in Shen Che’s ear. “It was quite a coincidence. That person happened to mention that Lord Jing’s cultivation method was the same as Zheli’s. Do you know how delighted I was? I finally realized you were him. Isn’t this fate?”
Zaina, barely able to contain herself, began to remove the few clothes she wore, revealing herself to Shen Che like a peeled egg.
She gently caressed Shen Che’s face with her finger. “My lord, I have no demands. I can kneel and serve tea to the First Madam, I won’t fight or compete with her, I won’t even live in your house to trouble you. I only hope for your favor, just once a month would be enough.”
Zaina’s repeated “my lord” rolled off her tongue smoothly. She gently squeezed Shen Che and said, “If my lord agrees, tonight can be our wedding night.”
Zaina stood up. She was still wearing thin leather boots, exuding wildness. She turned her back to Shen Che and walked slowly to the cushions, gracefully sliding down. She bent over seductively to remove one boot, while pointing the other foot towards Shen Che, inviting him to remove her “golden lotus.”
Due to her spread legs, all her exquisite charms were on display.
Shen Che stood up, adjusted his robe, and took a few steps forward. Just as Zaina thought he was about to succumb to her, Shen Che’s fingers lightly tapped in the air. Zaina was stunned at first, then her face began to contort. Her legs could no longer stand, shaking like a lamb with epilepsy, finally twisting into a pretzel.
“Shen Che—” Zaina, in a cold sweat from the pain, could no longer maintain her alluring posture. She hoarsely asked through her agony, “What are you doing?”
Shen Che sat down three feet away from Zaina, calmly observing her suffering, showing no trace of tenderness or pity.
“What made you think you could negotiate with me? What gave you such confidence that I wouldn’t harm you?” Shen Che glanced at Zaina indifferently, then looked down at himself with sudden realization. “Oh, did you think it was under your spell, so you’d be safe?”
Shen Che mocked, “You’ve had so many men, don’t you know how unreliable this thing is?”
Zaina was in too much pain to speak, barely managing to squeeze out through gritted teeth, “Huo De knows I’m here. If anything happens to me, he’ll confirm your identity.”
Shen Che raised an eyebrow and poured himself another cup of wine. His mood was too foul to banter with Zaina. “I’ve always been contrary since childhood. If the ancestors told me to go east, I’d insist on going west. So, sorry, I can’t listen to you. I also have another flaw – I particularly enjoy stepping on people’s sore spots.”
Shen Che paused, then continued, “You must have heard about me from Huo De. My master’s martial arts are excellent, but what outsiders don’t know is that his medical skills are even better.” Shen Che walked a few steps towards Zaina and crouched beside her, his fingers lightly touching her smooth face that showed no signs of age. “I wonder what you’ll look like at forty. What do you think?”
The chill Zaina felt far outweighed her physical pain. “You devil,” she spat.
Shen Che shrugged, “I wanted to do this the moment I saw you.” In a corner of the tent was an inconspicuous wooden box. When opened, it revealed bottles and jars filled with fragrant medicines. Shen Che selected from these vials, saying, “Did Huo De ever mention that I learned a bit from my master?”
Shen Che fed Zaina a pill, nearly causing her to faint. Unable to bear it, she begged, “What do you want?”
Shen Che spread some ointment on Zaina’s face and released the pressure point technique on her body. “Don’t cry. You guessed right – I can’t bring myself to be cruel to women.”
Zaina, her face streaked with tears, looked at Shen Che. Any trace of triumph or confidence was gone, replaced only by trembling pitifulness.
“Don’t be afraid. What I gave you was a skin-nourishing pill,” Shen Che said as he stood up and began to leave.
Zaina looked at Shen Che in disbelief. “You’re just letting me go like this? Aren’t you afraid I’ll betray you?”
Shen Che turned back with a smile, “That depends on whether you want to follow Huo De or me.”
Zaina indeed had a relationship with Shen Che’s uncle, Huo De, but unfortunately, Huo De was just a thin, sinister old man, nowhere near Shen Che’s caliber.
She wanted Shen Che, desperately so. The more ruthless he was to her, the more she wanted to conquer him.
“What should I do?” Zaina followed, pursuing him.
Shen Che didn’t turn back, leaving only a sentence, “That’s for you to figure out.”
The wind left behind only the naked Zaina. She finally felt some shame and retreated into the tent. All lustful thoughts had receded, but a more persistent desire arose in her heart – she must conquer this man.
In Zaina’s forty-some years of life, she had finally encountered a man she wanted to conquer wholeheartedly, without any slack. After the pain, she felt only joy, immense joy. She felt life was full of flavor, no longer a stagnant pond.
Zaina cared nothing for religious doctrines, nor whether the people of Great Qin believed in Buddha or Zoroastrianism. She only cared that her withering body could receive new nourishment, and her numb heart could gain new inspiration.
Some pursue money, some pursue power, but she pursued men – men she couldn’t have.
And he hadn’t had the heart to kill her, had he? He had only scared her a little. What an enchanting bad man, wasn’t he?
Zaina touched the ointment on her face, licked the blood on her lips from where she had bitten herself, leisurely put on her clothes, and disappeared into the night.
“You just let Zaina leave like that?” Ji Cheng couldn’t help but ask in surprise after hearing Shen Che say that Zaina knew his true identity.