Chapter 11: Toasts and Goblets Cannot Fathom the Chill in Human Hearts

It turned out that it was an imperial decree from the reigning Emperor, bestowing upon the Ninth Prince the title of Prince of Cheng. As such, the Ninth Prince was obliged to hold a banquet at his residence in celebration, but his few libertine companions remarked that, with his new status, he could no longer frequent places of ill repute as he once did. Thus, before the formal investiture ceremony, the Ninth Prince decided to indulge in one last night of pleasure at the brothel. He secretly invited a few close sons of noble families, concealed his identity, and held a feast at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion.

After receiving the invitation, Shen Yu first reported back to the Marquis of Wenchang’s residence, changed his attire, and set out for the banquet. Little did he expect that, upon stepping into the small hall reserved for guests, he would see Madam Feng chatting and laughing with someone—Helian Qi!

Shen Yu’s countenance changed at once. He paused, intent on turning back.

“Oh! Young Lord Shen, you’ve arrived!” Madam Feng looked up at just the right moment, deliberately intercepting his retreat.

Shen Yu had no choice but to don a smile and step inside. He cupped his hands in apology to the other young gentlemen present, “I am late; I beg your pardon.” As he was about to bow to the seat of honor, he noticed that it was empty.

“Where is Ninth Master?” Outside of formal settings, that was how everyone addressed the Ninth Prince, and Shen Yu was no exception.

“Ninth Master is entangled with worldly affairs and will arrive later,” replied Helian Qi.

Shen Yu responded coldly with a grunt and found a place to sit, ignoring the rest.

Madam Feng, noticing the chilly atmosphere, quickly said with a smile, “Young Lord, you haven’t been visiting much lately. Have you found some new haunt and forgotten about my Drunken Blossom Pavilion?”

With the seat of honor vacant, the other young men grew more at ease and burst into laughter at her words. Shen Yu glanced at Madam Feng and offered a perfunctory smile. “How could I? It’s just that, after the fire at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion, I feared I’d be in the way.”

At these words, Helian Qi’s hand, which was holding a cup, froze for a moment before he calmly drained it.

Madam Feng, well aware of Shen Yu’s intended jab, was about to reply when someone at the table sighed, “Speaking of that fire, what a pity about Han Chu. Such a peerless beauty, gone just like that.”

Helian Qi’s fine features betrayed no emotion; he ignored the strange looks cast his way.

“Brother Helian, you seem rather heartless. Are you not saddened?” someone teased, half in jest, half in genuine regret.

Helian Qi finally cleared his throat and replied blandly, “After such an accident, anyone with a heart would grieve. Wouldn’t you say so, Young Lord?”

He washes his hands clean of it! Shen Yu’s anger flared, and he retorted with biting sarcasm, “Perhaps Brother Helian, newly married as you are, has already forgotten those of the past, alive or dead.”

“Is that so?” Helian Qi finally raised his eyes to Shen Yu, his gaze sharp and incisive, as though discerning the truth behind all things.

Meeting Helian Qi’s gaze, Shen Yu’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly looked to Madam Feng, who lowered her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head, indicating ignorance.

Shen Yu’s heart slowly sank, and he held his tongue.

At that moment, someone else turned to Helian Qi with a laugh, “Speaking of which, Brother Helian, you were the only guest to ever share Han Chu’s bed! Such fortune is something the rest of us can only envy.”

A self-mocking smile flitted across Helian Qi’s lips as he drained another cup.

But these words only angered Shen Yu further. He glared coldly at the speaker, about to slam the table in protest, when an insouciant, languid laugh interrupted, “I’m late! Forgive me, forgive me.”

Everyone rose to greet the new arrival with respect. “Ninth Master.”

Seeing the Ninth Prince stride in, Shen Yu was forced to suppress his fury, though his fists clenched so tightly within his sleeves that the veins bulged.

After that, the topic shifted away from Han Chu, and the young men offered their congratulations to the Ninth Prince on his new title. The scene became lively, filled with toasts and laughter.

Throughout the banquet, Shen Yu remained unusually silent, while Helian Qi appeared all smiles and genial conversation.

At long last, the gathering dispersed. Shen Yu’s face was ashen, his expression grim. His attendant, observing his mood, asked anxiously, “Will you be staying at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion tonight?”

“Stay? What for!” Shen Yu seldom lost his temper with his servants, but now he snapped, “Take me to Chasing Rainbow Court!”

The attendant dared not say more and quickly drove Shen Yu to his destination.

When Shen Yu left the Drunken Blossom Pavilion, he clutched a piece of paper in his hand, which by the time he reached Chasing Rainbow Court had been crumpled beyond recognition. He dismounted the carriage and, without a word, headed straight to the western wing, only to find that Han Chu had already gone to bed.

The courtyard was pitch dark, not a single lantern alight—a stark contrast to the rooms of Cha Cha and the others, who waited up with lamps burning. Did she truly believe he would not visit her? Shen Yu’s anger flared, and ignoring the barred door, he made a great show of noise and kicked it open.

Han Chu, awakened by the commotion, immediately threw on a robe. She had just sat up and was reaching for her slippers when she saw Shen Yu stride in, face clouded, and kick over the screen at the end of her bed.

With a soft hiss, Shen Yu lit a fire striker he carried, casting his gaze down at the delicate figure seated on the bedside.

Startled, Han Chu shrank back onto the bed, eyes wide, clutching her collar as if terrified he might do something untoward.

Yet Shen Yu merely stood there, face stern, fire striker in hand, unmoving. His eyes burned with barely contained rage, as if he had reached the limits of self-restraint.

The wavering firelight between them cast shifting shadows, creating an air of eerie secrecy. Gazing at Han Chu in the glow, Shen Yu suddenly recalled the night the Drunken Blossom Pavilion had burned.

If she had truly perished in the flames that night, would he have thrown everything aside to kill Helian Qi and Ming Ying? He did not know. He only knew that, at this moment, he needed an outlet for his seething anger.

When had he first fallen for her?

Perhaps it was the stunning song she performed on her debut night;
Perhaps it was the lingering regret of never claiming her for himself;
Or perhaps it was the dazzling smile she once gave Helian Qi.

Whatever the reason, he had fallen for her, and did not deny that he was captivated by her beauty and grace. He did not consider himself shallow—after all, who was not drawn to beauty?

Yet he never competed with Helian Qi for her, instead feigning noble restraint, lingering before her every day, even occasionally teasing Helian Qi with bawdy jokes.

Later, when rumors spread throughout Jingzhou that the Helian and Ming families were to be united by marriage, he felt a secret delight but did not seize the opportunity, choosing instead to coldly observe Han Chu’s suffering and heartbreak.

Yes, he admitted it was his own pride at fault—he could not abide gossip. He did not wish to be known as the dignified young lord of the Marquis of Wenchang who took in a woman Helian Qi had discarded.

It was his masculine pride, his competitiveness, his concern for appearances that caused him to miss his best chance to pursue her.

Perhaps he was too accustomed to playing the part of the rake, and so did not dare to face his true feelings.

Had it not been for the fire at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion, and Madam Feng’s own initiative in sending Han Chu to him, perhaps he would have continued to watch from the sidelines, betraying nothing.

Now, he hated only that he had come too late, hated even more that Han Chu was blind to the truth! He wanted to curse her for giving her heart to the wrong man, and detested the swarm of suitors drawn to her beauty!

Shen Yu turned and lit the candles on the desk, his eyes bloodshot as he gazed at Han Chu on the bed. In the candlelight, she looked like a frightened deer, crashing straight into the softest part of his heart, yet fueling his fury even more.

“Han Chu,” Shen Yu strode to the bed, lifting her chin, “Did you really think I redeemed you just to keep you as a decoration?”

“Before I send you to the eastern wing, I must mark you as my own, so everyone knows you are my woman—no one else may covet you!” With that, he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss domineering and wild, all tenderness vanished.

As Shen Yu leaned in, Han Chu caught the heavy scent of wine. She knew he was drunk and wanted to resist, but her voice was lost.

She struggled, but could not escape Shen Yu’s grip. He held her fast, kissing her recklessly—her forehead, her delicate brows, down to her lips and collarbone...

She felt his hand slip into her collar, fumbling for the ties of her undergarment. But the words he’d said the night before still rang in her ears—she was nothing more to him than a courtesan!

Han Chu’s heart grew cold, and she gradually ceased to struggle, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

Her tears fell against Shen Yu’s neck, making him pause for a moment in his frenzied advances. He sensed her mute rejection, the way she lay there, lifeless, passively enduring as if resigned to fate. It drained all will from him.

Shen Yu had only ever desired women who played coy, who responded with passion, who clung to him in mutual desire... Never before had he met someone who resisted him to the end, who yielded only out of bitterness and unwillingness.

It was a grave insult. Shen Yu felt his pride and dignity diminished and trampled upon in front of Han Chu. He slowly let her go, asking with wounded feeling, “Han Chu, do I disgust you?”

Han Chu, pale-faced, bit her lip. She dared not nod, only wrapped her clothes tightly around herself and kept silent.

Shen Yu laughed bitterly. “If I disgust you, then let it be complete.” He reached again to undo her robe, but just then, a noise sounded outside the door.

“What’s going on!” Cha Cha and Liu Guang rushed in, hair disheveled, wearing only their underclothes.

Seeing the scene inside, both were embarrassed. Cha Cha stammered, forcing a laugh, “Sister Liu Guang and I heard a disturbance in the courtyard and worried something had happened to Han Chu, so we...”

Before she could finish, Shen Yu rose from the bed, face cold as ice, and barked at them, “Get out!”

The two fled at once, closing the door behind them.

Their interruption brought Shen Yu back to his senses. Seeing Han Chu weeping like a pear blossom in the rain, his heart ached and his tone softened. “I drank too much at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion tonight... I was impulsive...” He did not mention Helian Qi’s name.

At his words, Han Chu looked up at him, eyes brimming with shame and grievance, silently accusing him.

Shen Yu’s heart twisted. He prided himself on being a gentleman, believing in mutual consent. He had intended to wait patiently for her, and was never one to rush these matters.

The more he thought, the more guilty he felt, yet he did not know how to explain what had happened that night at the Drunken Blossom Pavilion. He could only change the subject, “There is a distinguished guest staying in the eastern wing, but he is short a maidservant. Would you be willing to serve there for a few days?”

He hesitated, then added, “No more than two or three months at most.”

Han Chu’s face turned even paler than before. Shen Yu realized she misunderstood, thinking he was passing her around as a plaything, and quickly explained, “Don’t worry; he is not interested in women.”

Shen Yu gazed at her intently, waiting for her answer. If she shook her head, he would refuse Yun Ci’s request the next day.

In his heart, Shen Yu did not want her to go to the eastern wing. To him, her refusal would mean she depended on him and was unwilling to serve another. He waited, watching as time ticked by, while Han Chu fell into silence.

Scheming women, wanton men... She had only been at Chasing Rainbow Court for two days and had already suffered enough humiliation in the western wing to be exhausted in body and spirit.

Was the distinguished guest in the eastern wing the one she had seen by the spring the previous night? The thought flashed through her mind, and, almost against her own will, Han Chu nodded.

She agreed to go to the eastern wing.

A look of deep disappointment and reluctance flickered across Shen Yu’s face. Yet, in the end, he said nothing more, only spoke softly, “Rest now. Tomorrow, you’ll go to the eastern wing.” With that, he turned and left.

A small crumpled paper dropped from Shen Yu’s clothing, unnoticed in his haste.

Han Chu wanted to call after him, only to remember she could not speak. By the time she picked up the paper and unfolded it by the candlelight, Shen Yu had already left the courtyard.

She hesitated for a long time before finally unrolling the note in the flickering light...