The Perilous Palace Dream - Side Story-5
Side Story: Princess Eight (Part 2)
At this thought, Young Master Wu slammed his hand on the table, glared, and barked loudly, “How dare you be so ungrateful!”
With that, he stood up and kicked over the table in front of him with a heavy thud.
The onlookers outside the shop couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, whispering softly, “It’s starting… it’s starting…”
Xiu Tuhong had originally been outside checking several newly arrived cartloads of medicinal herbs.
Hearing the sudden sound of tables and chairs being overturned in the main hall, he sprinted inside at once.
Upon entering, he saw the hall in absolute disarray.
The curtain shading his wife’s gorgeous, flower-like face had been torn down, and his delicate little wife had fallen heavily onto the floor because of the overturned table.
After knocking over the furniture, Young Master Wu saw Xiu Tuhong enter and immediately charged at him, swinging his fist.
Xiu Tuhong’s eyes were already red with fury, and he was anxious to check on his wife’s condition; he had no patience to tangle with a minor scoundrel like this. With a single kick, he sent Young Master Wu flying onto the wall. The young master turned pale and spat out a mouthful of fresh, crimson blood.
The men Young Master Wu brought along were all battle-tested veterans at wrecking establishments! Seeing their master suffer a loss, how could they stand by? Waving their sleeves, they drew wooden clubs and short daggers hidden beneath their robes, charging into the fray.
The Xiongnu were naturally fierce; in the past, these thugs had encountered trained martial artists, but as the saying goes, “A single tiger cannot withstand a pack of wolves, and a brave man cannot stand against numbers.”
Even the fiercest warrior had ultimately fallen beneath their barrage of clubs. Seeing their young master take a beating today, they rallied their spirits, eager to avenge him.
Yet just as they rushed in with strange yells, before Xiu Tuhong even had to move, the five shop assistants in the pharmacy began grabbing weapons.
The spectating crowd watched with wide, stunned eyes.
Good heavens, where on earth did they hire these assistants?
Usually smiling and courteous, they now reached onto medicine cabinets and into herb baskets—one even picked up a long, heavy blade meant for chopping herbs! Every one of them exuded a chilling murderous aura as they charged at these thugs who had come to wreck the place. Wherever their hands reached, they acted cleanly and ruthlessly, hacking at the thugs’ hands and feet.
Strikes drew blood with every move, and the sickening sound of snapping bones echoed continuously.
In merely a moment’s time, the “Wu Family Army”—which had run rampant across the South and claimed to eradicate countess Xiongnu—lay groaning and wailing helplessly on the ground.
One newcomer, who was participating in a raid with Young Master Wu for the first time, had shrunk back out of fear and entered the fight a bit late. Seeing the bloody carnage inside the pharmacy, he instantly wet his pants in terror, turned on his heels, and ran off at top speed to report to the authorities and call for reinforcements.
These shop assistants were actually elite soldiers of the Black Banner Army, meticulously handpicked by the Grand Tutor himself.
Having slain countless enemies on the battlefield, handling a few local thugs was child’s play for them. Without waiting for the Prince’s orders, they dragged the maimed thugs up, tossed them onto the street, fetched several buckets of clean water, and began washing down the shop’s floor.
The watching crowd held their breath, completely dumbfounded, thinking to themselves: Good lord, how are these pharmacy assistants? They’re clearly bloodthirsty bandits straight out of the wilderness! Could this place be a stronghold for greenwood outlaws scouting the area below the mountains?
By this time, the Prince had already lifted Princess Eight into his arms.
Heartbroken, he noticed a deep bruise on her forehead where she had struck the corner of the table. He was ready to go out and decapitate the culprit who had caused this mess.
However, Princess Eight tugged at his sleeve.
“Don’t…”
Xiu Tuhong understood her meaning; since they were living incognito, it was naturally best not to stir up further trouble.
Instead, he delivered a single kick that completely dislocated the jaw of Young Master Wu, who was sprawling near the doorway, before carrying his little wife back to the inner residence to rest.
—
Just then, the local authorities dispatched their men. The constable leading the squad had always been on good terms with Young Master Wu. Hearing that foreign merchants had injured a descendant of Great Wei nobility, he treated it as a top-priority case and brought a group of Yamen officers to arrest the lawbreaking foreign merchants.
“It’s this shop!”
The little thug leading the way found his pillar of support and pointed indignantly.
Looking at the bloody mess covering the street, and then at Young Master Wu lying unconscious to the side with a crooked, dislocated jaw, the constable was thoroughly stunned. How could he not know about Young Master Wu’s usual misdeeds? It was only because those he bullied were all rootless foreign merchants trying to make a living, who could do nothing but swallow their own teeth and blood! But this was the very first time they had run into a brick wall!
Stepping into the pharmacy, a shop assistant walked over with a warm smile and asked, “May I ask if this officer is here to pick up medicine?”
The constable glared at him and demanded in a loud voice, “Who was it that beat up Young Master Wu?”
Hearing this, the smile on the assistant’s face vanished as if by magic.
Slowly straightening his back, he let out a cold snort and, with a flick of his hand, drew a gleaming imperial dragon medallion from his inner breast pocket.
“A petty figure like you isn’t qualified. Tell your magistrate to roll his ass over here immediately…”
A short while later, the onlookers saw the constable scurry out in utter disgrace.
Young Master Wu had just regained consciousness; seeing the constable pass by, he grabbed his leg. “Brother Changshan, you must vent this anger for me…”
The constable shook him off forcefully, stomped his foot, and snapped, “You’ve brought down a catastrophe! Tell your father to clean up this disaster for you!”
—
Having struck her head, Princess Shaoyang felt a wave of nausea and dizziness.
After Xiu Tuhong carried her into the inner chamber, she fell into a deep, groggy sleep. In her hazy state, she dreamed of bizarre and unbelievable scenes—the long river and setting sun of the Northern Border, and all the love and hatred shared with a deep, blue-eyed foreign man…
She finally awoke with a splitting headache, opening her eyes to find moonlight streaming through the carved window. The man from her dream was leaning against the edge of the bed, fast asleep.
Because of her unfamiliarity toward him, ever since they arrived in the South, he had always slept in a separate bed from her. That man in her dream, who possessed such intense desire, had actually held back his urges for months now.
Princess Shaoyang couldn’t help reaching out her hand to gently touch his deep, striking features.
This man, who always made others tremble with fear, had been so indescribably gentle to her in the dream…
Just at that moment, the man slowly opened his eyes and caught her reckless little hand in a firm grip.
“You’re awake? How are you feeling? Would you like some water?”
Princess Shaoyang nodded and took the cup of water. Having been caught red-handed just now, a wave of bashfulness washed over her. Drinking a bit too hastily, some water spilled onto the front of her inner garment, dampening it so that it clung tightly to her snow-white skin. Xiu Tuhong’s gaze gradually darkened. Following his line of sight, the Princess looked down and immediately covered her chest in embarrassment. Suddenly, Xiu Tuhong pulled her forcefully into his arms and brought his lips close; his warm, lingering breath brought a faint blush to her face.
Perhaps because the scenes in her dream just now were far too vivid, those lingering, heart-pounding moments made Shaoyang close her eyes slightly. Like a silent invitation, the man couldn’t resist passionately locking onto those delicate lips.
Amidst the scorching entanglement of lips and tongues, the bed curtains were pulled shut.
To his pleasant surprise, Xiu Tuhong discovered that the woman who used to be timid and stiff in bed could now soften her body, letting out delicate, enchanting moans that made one’s blood boil…
—
In a corner of the gently swaying bed, a book lay open.
On its strikingly vivid cover, the title reads ‘The Fragrant History of the Soft Couch’—a name embarrassing enough to make one’s heart race—authored by “The Red Quill Scholar.”
Sunk in the soft sweetness he hadn’t experienced for so long, Xiu Tuhong felt a bliss so overwhelming it almost brought tears to his eyes. The Han people were truly right: “Within books lies a beauty as fine as jade!”
His little wife had been engrossed in these leisure books over the past few days. Curious, he had secretly flipped through a few pages himself, only to find descriptions so voluptuous and explicit that even a full-grown man would stare open-mouthed! He wondered which playboy scholar from which brothel had penned such love chronicles, but now it seemed these books were a wonderful aphrodisiac—his wife had become significantly more lively and enchanting than before! He resolved to exert all his prowess to win her favor, refusing to be outdone by that scheming general in the book, lest his wife discard him into the cold palace once more…
—
While spring scenery blossomed lushly in the South, the spring night in the imperial bedchamber had been slow to arrive.
The nation’s Imperial male empress, whose charm surpassed all six palaces, had long since bathed and laid on the dragon bed, waiting for Her Majesty’s royal grace. Yet that soft, enchanting beauty was slumping over her writing desk, still writing furiously away with her brush.
The Grand Tutor endured it again and again until he could bear it no longer.
He bellowed loudly, “Nie Qinglin, get over here right now!”
Life couldn’t go on like this! By day, he had to match wits with a bunch of old ministers; upon returning to the palace, he had to match physical strength with an unprovidential son. In an entire day, this brief spring moment was the only thing he looked forward to, yet this little woman had recently grown obsessed with her ink and manuscripts! Word was that several manuscripts she anonymously compiled were selling extraordinarily well in the bookstores!
He had no objection to Guo’er enjoying such pastimes, but encroaching upon his nightly recreation was utterly unacceptable! Following his angry roar, he saw the graceful figure remain completely still, her brush still moving swiftly across the paper.
With a cold, handsome face, the Grand Tutor strode over.
Looking over the beauty’s fragrant shoulder, the manuscript was clearly at an exciting climax—the widow called out coyly: “General, stop this instant! Do not strip off my trousers!” … The general parted her snow-white thighs wide, saying, “Wife, just lie still—in a moment, this General will serve you warmly and thoroughly, guaranteeing you forget that dead husband of yours…”
He recalled asking this gifted writer a few days ago why everyone else wrote about noble young ladies while she chose to write about widows. To his surprise, she had winked mischievously and said, “For a book to sell well, one must draw from real life! Among those who buy these books, many are married women. The beauty of a widow is that she can experience many vigorous men; if a book like this doesn’t sell well, where is the justice under heaven?”
At the time, he had found it amusing, but now he couldn’t laugh at all: With such devotion, could she be contemplating following that widow’s example—losing her husband early only to experience the entire imperial court of officials?
At this thought, he scooped up the woman who was still writing furiously, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her straight onto the dragon bed.
Her long hair cascading down, Nie Qinglin laughed and cried out softly.
Before long, her lips and tongue were captured in a deep kiss, intertwining with her beloved man upon the dragon bed.
Beneath the flickering palace lanterns, a page of manuscript fell to the floor. Upon it was written a line of delicate, elegant small script:
People call it absurd and unfit for the eye,
Unaware that true love lies hidden on the fragrant couch.
Where lies the sin in love between man and maid?
May true hearts find each other in mutual devotion.
-The Red Quill Scholar-
