After leaving the Northern Surveillance Bureau, Su Yan went straight home, ordered his servant to heat water, and took a long bath, scrubbing himself clean in the tub.
He spent nearly half an hour washing, sniffing himself to make sure there was no trace of blood or semen on him before finally stepping out to get dressed.
The forced mutual masturbation incident in the prison had left quite an impact on his straight-laced mind, lowering his mood. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he felt.
But it wasn’t a blow strong enough to make him utterly humiliated. After all, back in college, he and his roommates used to joke about these things. If someone was caught masturbating, the others would sneak up and yank the blanket off or knock on the bathroom door, teasing them about being “one of the huluwa.”
He consoled himself, thinking it was no big deal—it was just a joke, right?
He still had to report back to the Eastern Palace and serve the energetic young crown prince, so he dressed neatly and headed to the palace.
Zhu Helin had been anxiously waiting for him, and when he saw him from afar, he rushed over in a few quick strides. “You’re finally back! That prison is notorious for being damp and cold, bad luck all around. Don’t stay there too long, or you might catch a chill.”
Su Yan smiled, “No worries, I wasn’t there for long. Has Your Highness finished your lessons today?”
Zhu Helin, avoiding the subject of his studies, looked him over and then asked, confused, “Hey, what happened to your lip?”
Su Yan instinctively touched the sore spot and winced slightly, covering up, “It’s… just a cold sore, got irritated and broke.”
“Let me get a doctor to take a look. I’ll have some herbal tea prepared to help clear it up.”
“No need, no need. It’s really not a big deal. I’ll grab some cooling tea on my way out of the palace. Now, has Your Highness finished your studies?”
Seeing that there was no way to avoid it, Zhu Helin slouched and reluctantly headed to the study to continue his lessons.
Nearby, a young eunuch, Fu Bao, was grinding ink at the table. When he saw Su Yan motioning to him from outside the curtain, along with a gesture to keep quiet, he slipped out quietly.
“Fu Bao Gonggong, did you find anything on that matter I asked you to investigate last month?” Su Yan asked in a low voice.
Fu Bao looked disheartened. “I did check. The palace buyers from the Internal Affairs Department, the small kitchen chefs, and the tailors from the Imperial Clothing Bureau who came to take measurements… dozens of people in all. It’s hard to check thoroughly.”
Su Yan thought for a moment before asking, “Were there any messengers from other palaces?”
“Other than the ones from the emperor’s and the empress dowager’s palaces, no one else has been coming.”
That made sense. Whether it was a scheme from the inner court or collusion with outsiders, they wouldn’t use people from the palace to deliver messages. Hiding a leaf among trees makes it difficult to trace. All he could do now was stay vigilant and be prepared for when something like this happened again, so he could catch them in the act and trace it back to the mastermind.
Su Yan gave Fu Bao a few more instructions, but before he could finish, a young eunuch, Duoguier, who served under Lan Xi of the Directorate of Ceremonies, rushed over to the Eastern Palace. He announced that the emperor had summoned Su Yan to the imperial study.
Su Yan had no choice but to bid farewell to the crown prince and follow Duoguier to the emperor’s study.
***
Emperor Jinglong, unusually, was not reviewing memorials but instead painting a freehand landscape with bold strokes.
Su Yan performed the proper courtesies and obediently stood to the side, awaiting the emperor’s commands.
The paper, made from cotton and silk, was as tough as cloth. The composition of the painting was already laid out, and the emperor was using dry ink and thirsty brushstrokes to delineate the trees and mountains.
After a moment of breathless waiting, Su Yan finally heard the emperor ask without lifting his head, “You went to the prison?”
Instinctively, Su Yan responded with a casual “Mm,” but realizing this was too informal, he quickly added, “In response to Your Majesty, I did visit the prison earlier today and just returned.”
“You went to see your former mentor?”
“…Yes.”
The emperor’s brush paused. He lifted his deep, narrow eyes to look at Su Yan. “What do you think of the case concerning Chancellor Zhuo?”
A chill ran down Su Yan’s spine.
—This was a trick question!
Zhuo Qi was accused of forming factions and accepting bribes. Whether the latter accusation was true or not, the first was already a politically sensitive matter.
The faction in question, known as the Xiye Faction, was composed of scholars and demoted officials who shared common ideals. They had considerable influence both in and outside the court, criticizing governmental policies, officials, and even powerful eunuchs. Gradually, this intellectual group turned into a political force and a center of public discourse.
Although Zhuo Qi had not openly declared his support for the faction, he had personal ties with some of its members.
It was this association that the Imperial Academy’s Siye, Yu Yong, had seized upon, accusing Zhuo Qi of forming cliques and being disloyal to the emperor.
Even though Gelao Li Chengfeng believed his students were not involved with the Xiye Faction, it was difficult to clear Zhuo Qi of all suspicion before the trial. Therefore, Zhuo Qi was reluctantly sent to prison.
Now, if Su Yan pleaded for his teacher’s innocence, it would seem he was disregarding the law. If he remained silent, it would make him appear ungrateful. If he avoided the topic altogether, he would look cowardly—no matter what, he would be wrong.
The emperor held his brush steady, his eyes patiently fixed on Su Yan, waiting for a response.
In a split second, Su Yan’s mind raced through seven or eight different thoughts, weighing the pros and cons, calculating the most precise and appropriate reaction.
The final image that formed in his mind was from a well-known classic novel—The Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Su Yan slowly knelt down, shuffling forward on his knees to grasp the emperor’s robe, pressing his head deeply against it.
Emperor Jinglong was puzzled and suddenly heard soft sobbing.
The sobs grew into restrained weeping, full of sorrow and inner turmoil, so heartrending that it tugged at one’s heartstrings.
Emperor Jinglong was taken aback.
He set his brush down and slowly leaned back in his golden silkwood chair. Su Yan seized the opportunity, shuffling closer on his knees and burying his face in the emperor’s lap, crying as though his heart were breaking, crying as though a cuckoo bird had called out in anguish.
The emperor felt a wave of warmth seeping through his robe. The spot on his leg where Su Yan’s tears landed burned deep into his flesh, making him regret pushing this young official—someone favored by the crown prince—so hard, and being so guarded against him.
—After all, he was barely seventeen, only a few years older than the crown prince himself!
“…Alright, alright, stand up,” the emperor said, gently patting Su Yan’s head.
Su Yan mentally calculated that the moment wasn’t ripe yet, so he continued to clutch the emperor’s leg and sob, saying nothing, his body trembling uncontrollably.
Emperor Jinglong sighed quietly and placed his hand on Su Yan’s shaking back.
Though Su Yan appeared frail, the emperor found his back to be surprisingly sturdy. The firm, youthful build and the faint fragrance from his collar clung to the emperor’s hand like a delicate web.
Before long, what had started as a gesture of comfort morphed into something more, as the emperor’s touch became slow and lingering.
Su Yan, sobbing heavily, suddenly felt something amiss… The hand on his back—was it pressing too hard? Was the angle a bit off? Wasn’t this touch… inappropriate?
Having been manhandled just earlier that day, Su Yan was still somewhat traumatized. Reflexively, he lifted his face and let out a loud hiccup, abruptly ceasing his crying.
Emperor Jinglong who had been caught in the moment, was jolted back to reality when he suddenly found himself staring at a tear-streaked face with misty, almond-shaped eyes. He felt a slight pang of suffocation. Gazing into those eyes, he saw the beauty of an entire spring season, something beyond words or art, and couldn’t help but reach out, brushing his fingers across Su Yan’s trembling eyelashes down to his red lips.
Then the emperor asked, “What happened to your lips?”
“Got a blister from the heat and rubbed it raw.”
“It doesn’t look like a blister to me—it looks like you were bitten.”
“…”
Are we seriously stuck on this topic again? Su Yan raged inwardly, but outwardly, he looked puzzled. “I don’t have a habit of biting my lips. Could it be that I ground my teeth in my sleep and bit them without realizing?”
The emperor, half convinced, brushed Su Yan’s lips again but finally let the matter drop.
Su Yan quickly realized the situation was growing dangerous. He was kneeling on the emperor’s lap, face tilted up as if seeking affection, while the emperor leaned over him, hand caressing his face in an increasingly intimate manner… This was heading in a very wrong direction!
Alarms blared in Su Yan’s mind. He hurriedly pulled back, wiping away the last of his tears and nervously said, “I lost control of myself. I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”
The emperor, momentarily dazed, shook off the lingering thoughts, regaining his usual composure. He withdrew his hand and, with deliberate nonchalance, resumed his painting, focusing once again on the tranquil landscape scene.
“…Your Majesty?” Su Yan was still kneeling, awaiting permission to rise.
The emperor, his brush moving calmly over the paper, said, “Tomorrow is the Dragon Boat Festival, and all officials have the day off. There will be a willow-shooting contest in the Eastern Garden, and prizes for those who hit the mark. Would you like to join in and show off your skills?”
Su Yan had also heard that there would be a holiday for the Dragon Boat Festival. He had originally planned to go to Jinshui River to watch the dragon boat races. However, upon learning that the court was organizing a team-building event at the renowned imperial garden, he immediately changed his plans. Instead of attending the usual activities, he decided to head to the Eastern Garden.
“I am willing to accompany the group, but I am not skilled in horseback riding or archery. Could I perhaps just observe the excitement and be excused from participating?”
Su Yan had been in this era for only half a year. While he had picked up horseback riding rather quickly, he had barely touched archery. If he were to participate, he figured he would probably win the “miss-the-target” championship.
The emperor said, “Among the six arts of a gentleman, archery and charioteering are two of them, and they must be learned. If you don’t know them, I can teach you… or have someone teach you.”
Su Yan had no choice but to express his gratitude.
“Go now, accompany the crown prince in his studies. Don’t linger here and get in my way,” the emperor said, dismissing him.
Relieved, Su Yan carefully bowed and retreated.
Once the young scholar’s figure disappeared beyond the hall, the emperor set down his brush. He crumpled the landscape painting, which had been sketched with scattered strokes, and tossed it to the side of the table.
He tried to calm the lingering heat and restlessness in his body. From a drawer, he took out a jade pendant with a carved lotus leaf design.
The jade was fine and smooth, and the carving was vivid. The droplets of water on the lotus leaf seemed like they might roll off at any moment. However, to the emperor, who had seen countless rare treasures, this was nothing special.
What made it unique, perhaps, were the words “Qinghe” engraved on the back of the pendant. The emperor placed it on the corner of the white paper and began painting a scene of lotuses swaying in the wind after the rain.
This time, his strokes flowed smoothly. When he finished, he added a couplet in elegant calligraphy near the lotus leaves:
“Green lotuses cherish their pure verdant hue,
The lingering rain assaults, and I fear they can’t endure.”
