Chapter 2

Among the beauties, whether men or women, not a single one had ever been made to perform something so obscene in public. It was scandalous, a blatant insult to all sense of decency.

But they had no choice. They had already seen how ruthless Bu Nian could be with Concubine Yi. No one dared disobey him now.

If there was a silver lining, it was this. If one of them managed to stand out, they might win his favor. Most of the women here were still young. They had no intention of wasting the rest of their lives in this place. If there was even the smallest hope of leaving with their heads held high, they would fight for it.

With that realization, the air among the concubines grew tense. Their eyes turned sharp, voices quieted, and rivalry began to stir.

Lian Ai was placed in the second group. He felt no nerves. Since he was already here, he might as well see it through. He had been raised in a brothel, trained from childhood in the art of seduction. His every gesture was designed to drive men wild.

In other words, he was very good in bed. So good that even his madam had nothing left to teach him.

If she ever found out he was still a virgin, she would probably clutch her chest and cry. Two of a bedslave’s prime years, wasted just like that. It would be nothing short of a disgrace.

On stage, the first group of more than ten concubines had already started. Accompanied by the sound of soft, seductive music, their thin clothes were soon gone. Pale, supple skin filled the platform.

The air was thick with moans. Below the stage, soldiers in full armor squirmed in place. Some were already flushed. Others stared, unblinking, their throats working as they swallowed. A few had already grown visibly hard, trousers tented in an obscene bulge.

Bu Nian sat at the back, under the covered walkway behind the soldiers, far away from the crowd. Beside him were fine teas and delicate pastries. A small incense burner stood in front of him, the long stick of incense already half burned. He showed no interest in the live performance. Not even a flicker.

He lifted his cup, skimmed off the foam, and took a sip. His eyes swept across the stage, calmly observing each move and every curve on display.

Cheap paint. Common tricks. Only his lecherous father would have been entertained by this.

Bu Nian had just passed the age of twenty, still considered a junior in the imperial court. Yet his temperament and talent rivaled that of any seasoned minister. At fourteen, he had marched to war with the old general, fighting against Huayue’s forces. His ruthlessness had been honed through years of bloodshed. He was not someone a common boy could ever hope to compare with.

But even someone like him had weaknesses. A soft spot that could not be touched. His one weakness was a person. A woman known as the most beautiful under heaven.

He was known to be enamored with Zuo Lingxue, the daughter of the famed twin-blade Zuo family in Jiangnan. It was a secret everyone knew. Unfortunately, the court’s relationship with martial sects had grown increasingly strained in recent years. And with the old general’s death, Bu Nian was required to observe mourning for three years. Whether he could eventually overcome all his rivals and claim the beauty for himself was something everyone speculated on. There were even betting pools based on it.

Bu Nian, however, had no doubts. He believed that only he was worthy of Zuo Lingxue. No one else could compare. He never once questioned her feelings for him either.

The first stick of incense burned out quickly. The performers on stage, breathless and flushed, began gathering their scattered clothes. With the help of servants, they stepped down one by one.

Once they were gone, the thirty or so men seated below stopped pretending to be dignified. They began whispering to each other in hushed excitement.

“Number six had the most seductive eyes. Just looking at her made my legs go weak.”

“Number ten had the right kind of waist. And a nice ass too.”

“That pretty young boy at number three, he looked so pitiful. Bet he cries real nice…”

Lian Ai drew number sixteen, which isn’t a bad number. He did not care much for winning or losing, but he wanted the reward. What he truly wanted was to reclaim his deed of sale. If he could get it, he would finally be free.

He had been sold to a brothel as a child and had never seen the outside world. When he was later sent to the Bu family’s private mansion, it was just a prettier cage. A golden one, but a cage all the same.

He no longer wanted to be a caged bird that would never fly. He wanted to soar, to see the world beyond the walls.

Lian Ai stepped onto the stage with the second group of concubines. In his hand, he carried a small flask of rice wine.

His madam had once taught him that true seduction was not about stirring desire in the average man. That was far too easy. The highest form of allure was igniting lust even in someone who felt nothing.

The men before him today were ordinary. In theory, there was no need to go all out. But this opportunity was rare. He could not afford to lose. He refused to lose. So he gave it everything he had.

He did not strip right away. Peeling off clothes to show skin was the lowest tactic. True desire came from the itch that could not be scratched.

He let his hair loose. Instantly, the long black strands spilled down like a waterfall. His hair was silky, smooth, dark as ink, and flowed down to his lower back. If one got close enough, they could catch a faint scent of flowers clinging to it.

Hair was a weapon for a bedslave. It had to be cared for meticulously from a young age. Daily oiling, scalp massages, and precise combing were part of his training. Reaching such length and quality was no easy task for an ordinary person.

Lian Ai’s hair was simply too beautiful. The men who had been focused on the other beauties found themselves drawn to him without realizing it.

He lifted the wine flask. A stream of clear liquor traced an arc through the air before falling into his slightly parted lips, wetting his rosy mouth.

Beneath his crane-like slender neck, his small Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped down the wine. The rest, which he didn’t manage to swallow in time, spilled down his neck and soaked into his clothes. In moments, the front of his shirt was drenched.

Today he wore only a thin spring robe. Now it clung tightly to his skin, outlining a body that invited endless thoughts. The cluster of coral-colored nipples on his chest stood out clearly. They begged to be pinched hard or taken into someone’s mouth and pulled with teeth, just to see if the color might deepen even further.

The clear wine continued its slow invasion, sliding down to his waist and lower abdomen. But before it could go farther, it was blocked by a dark blue sash wrapped tightly around his waist.

He lowered the wine flask. His normally pale face was tinged with a flush from the alcohol. The corners of his eyes turned red, his expression slightly dazed. He turned to look at number fifteen beside him. That youth, with delicate features and a soft charm, had already shed half his clothes and was rubbing at his nipples. One accidental glance at Lian Ai, and his eyes could no longer look away.

Some people were born with allure in their bones. It was something others could neither mimic nor surpass.

“Want a drink?” Lian Ai’s voice came out hoarse. His throat had been sore for days, giving his voice a rough, unpleasant edge. But now, soaked in strong wine, it had transformed into something heady and intoxicating.

Number fifteen stared blankly at him, unable to respond.

Lian Ai smiled faintly, tilted his head back for another sip, then suddenly reached out and pulled him close. He pried open the youth’s mouth and poured the wine straight in from a short distance away.

“I’m burning up. Aren’t you?” he asked, not waiting for a reply. He emptied the rest of the flask over himself.

His back quickly became drenched. Turning away from the audience, he gathered his long hair to the front, revealing two finely shaped shoulder blades and a deep groove between them that was impossibly tempting.

Without warning, he pushed number fifteen down and straddled his waist. His upper body broke free from the clinging fabric like a butterfly from its cocoon. But the sash remained fastened tight around his narrow waist, keeping the robe from falling completely, and still covering his lower half.

The men watching below were about to lose their minds. The scene was so erotic they wanted to rush up and tear the clothes off that wicked little vixen.

Number fifteen began to sense something was wrong. He tried to sit up, but Lian Ai pressed him back down by the chest and began rubbing his hips deliberately against the youth’s crotch. The movement robbed him of all strength, and he collapsed with a gasp.

Lian Ai turned slightly, revealing part of his face and the red tip of his nipple. Somehow, he had retrieved the hairpin from earlier. He now held it to his lips, sucking on it while grinding against the boy below, mimicking the rhythm of a rider on horseback.

Number fifteen’s shaft had long since reacted, straining beneath his clothes. He instinctively grabbed Lian Ai’s waist, trying to thrust harder.

A slight frown formed between Lian Ai’s brows. His waist ached faintly, but to the audience, he looked utterly lost in pleasure, as if drowning in the throes of lust.

Lian Ai’s figure wasn’t simply slender. His frame was balanced, bone and flesh in harmony. Especially around the curve where his lower back met his hips, there were two shallow dimples. Those who were well-versed in bed matters often called this place the “sacred hollows.” Only rare beauties had them. From behind, the thumbs fit perfectly into those dimples. That was their allure.

His slick tongue traced the surface of the dark hairpin, licking it until it gleamed with moisture. Then he slid the pointed end down his neck toward his chest, circling the pink peak of his nipple. His face twisted with a mixture of pleasure and pain, decadent and lost.

The tip moved lower, gliding across his navel, following the line of his waist until it slipped behind him, disappearing into the layers of his robe.

Lian Ai bit his lip. To the audience, it seemed he was pushing the hairpin into a place that should not be easy to enter.
His hand moved steadily, mimicking the rhythm of thrusting. The motion grew faster and heavier. He tilted his head back, throat quivering as his Adam’s apple moved. No sound came from his lips, yet everyone below imagined the rasping, hoarse moan that would have matched that expression.

Number fifteen stared up at him, completely entranced. His fingers pressed deeper into Lian Ai’s pale, supple skin, leaving behind trails of red marks. His arousal surged, hips bucking uncontrollably against the one above him. Even with the barrier of fabric between them, the pleasure was dizzying.

At last, the music stopped. Lian Ai gave two final, sharp thrusts with his wrist, then his body trembled violently. His shoulder blades shifted like delicate wings, fragile and mesmerizing. A glimmer of moisture clung to the corner of his eye. Beneath him, number fifteen cried out at the peak of release, chest arching as he spilled with abandon.

Both of them collapsed in a tangle of limbs. Number fifteen reached for Lian Ai, but the look in his eyes stopped him cold.

There was no lust there. Only clarity. Lian Ai was completely sober. There was even a hint of amusement in the way he looked back.

“You hurt me,” he whispered into number fifteen’s ear. “I spiked the wine, idiot.”

He had grown up in a brothel. His body had long since become immune to aphrodisiacs. A touch of it in wine meant nothing to him. But for someone like number fifteen, it was enough to spark an overwhelming desire. That intoxicating kiss of wine had done its work.

The most powerful seduction was not arousing someone already full of desire. It was making even the disinterested burn with need. And to do that, one had to be willing to use any means necessary.

Bu Nian sat motionless, his expression blank. A teacup rested in front of him, untouched. He looked as if he had forgotten to move. His eyes followed Lian Ai as he left the stage, gaze locked on the door long after the figure disappeared.

A steward stepped forward, waiting for instructions. When Bu Nian did not react, he finally spoke.

“General?”

The voice snapped him from his thoughts. He shot the man a sharp and cold glance. The steward immediately lowered his eyes and shrank back.

“Keep this place as it was. I won’t be coming back. As for number sixteen, I’m taking him with me. From today on, pretend he never existed.”

The steward nodded so fast his head nearly blurred.

“Yes, yes, understood. I have already forgotten. Already forgotten.”

Though the rules stated that the soldiers’ votes would decide the outcome, everyone knew Bu Nian’s word was final. The steward wasted no time. He had Lian Ai cleaned and sent straight to the general.

Later, when he tallied the results, he was surprised to find that they matched Bu Nian’s choice almost exactly. The one who received the most attention wasn’t the most beautiful concubine, nor the most seductive male performer. It was the new boy who had only arrived a year ago, the one who looked so ordinary at first glance.

Lian Ai.

Not long after Lian Ai stepped off the stage, someone came to take him away for a bath and fresh clothes. By the time he was dressed, he still didn’t know whether he had won the contest. Before he could figure it out, the door opened again, and in came two tall men dressed in the same uniform as the soldiers seated earlier.

Neither man said a word. One grabbed his wrists, and the other blindfolded him with a thick black cloth that completely blocked his sight.

“Where are you taking me?” Lian Ai’s voice trembled. Panic crept in as the world went dark. The two men held him from either side and began moving forward. His toes barely touched the ground.

He had no sense of how long they walked, nor in which direction. After a while, he began to hear the sound of hooves and the snort of a horse.

The two men stayed silent the entire time. Not a single word from beginning to end. Then, without warning, they shoved him forward. He fell onto a soft cushion.

It was a cramped, enclosed space. He reached out blindly, trying to feel his surroundings. His arms could barely stretch out fully. One hand touched cold wood, while the other brushed against something equally solid but warm.

Startled, he pulled back his hand and gasped.

“Who’s there?” he cried out.

Bu Nian looked him over without expression, searching his face for any trace of the seductive creature who had performed on stage. He was disappointed to find nothing but smooth, pale skin. In Bu Nian’s eyes, who had seen more beauty than most could imagine, Lian Ai’s looks were passable at best.

The silence unsettled Lian Ai. He reached up, wanting to remove the blindfold.

“Who said you could take it off?” a deep voice spoke right beside his ear.

Lian Ai froze. He recognized the voice. His hands dropped immediately as he shifted into a kneeling position.

“G-General…”

His head bowed low, palms slick with cold sweat. The faint rustle of fabric reached his ears, followed by the feeling of a hand gripping his chin, forcing his head upward.

That large hand turned his face from left to right, then tilted his chin to inspect his neck, as if appraising livestock.

The steady sway beneath him made Lian Ai realize they were in a moving carriage.

But why? Why was he in a carriage? Had he won first place? Was Bu Nian taking him away from the estate?

“General, may I ask… where are we going?” he asked cautiously, his voice broken slightly by the angle of his posture.

The hand at his chin released him, but just as he exhaled in relief, another hand clamped down on the back of his head. Thick fingers buried into his hair, gripping his roots tightly, yanking hard enough to sting his scalp.

“Lick.”

Lian Ai couldn’t see anything, but he could feel the heat in front of his lips. Something hovered just inches away. If he moved forward, his mouth would brush against it.

He knew exactly what it was.