A Gilded Chamber for a Hidden Beauty

“Now that we’ve finished buying clothes, where would you like to go next, Elder Brother?” As she fastened the sash around the man’s waist, Beigong Qiyi asked with a smile. Beigong Juechen glanced at the sky, his tone indifferent. “Let’s eat.”

“I’ve heard that Shiyuan Pavilion has just launched some new dishes—shall we try them?” Beigong Qiyi suggested after some thought. Beigong Juechen nodded noncommittally. “Very well.”

Though it was not yet noon, several tables at Shiyuan Pavilion were already occupied. The manager, busy with his accounts behind the counter, hurriedly came out with a broad grin upon seeing them enter. “Master, Young Master.” He greeted them respectfully, then led the two upstairs to a private room.

“I hear you’ve added some new dishes?” Beigong Juechen inquired. The manager bent low, replying, “Master, you’ve tasted all the delicacies under the sun—these are nothing special, just a few new variations.” Beigong Qiyi ordered the servants to bring two thick cushions, replacing the round ones originally there. Beigong Juechen removed his cloak and tossed it aside, saying casually, “Bring us one of each of your new creations.”

“Of course, of course. Master, Young Master, please wait a moment.” The manager bowed repeatedly, hung Beigong Juechen’s cloak on a hook, and left with the attendant, closing the door behind them.

Beigong Juechen walked to the window and opened it. The cool wind caught his long, loose hair, sending it flying wildly. Beigong Qiyi sat on the cushion, resting her chin in her hand as she watched him. The man’s profile was perfectly sculpted—phoenix eyes, slender and sharp; a straight, elegant nose; and lips as red as cinnabar. The only flaw was the lack of any smile on his face.

“Elder Brother,” Beigong Qiyi called softly, “you’ve always worn a stern face since you were a child. Now you smile even less.” Beigong Juechen shot her a languid, sidelong glance. “You were a little wolf cub as a child. Still a wolf cub now.”

“A wolf cub can still devour you, leaving not even a scrap,” Beigong Qiyi replied with a smile. Beigong Juechen’s gaze turned icy, cold as spring ice, stabbing straight at the young man. But Beigong Qiyi’s smile did not fade as he met his eyes, his voice low and lingering: “The most beautiful woman of the Xia dynasty, Meixi, would smile at the sound of silk being torn. So Xia Jie ordered his servants to bring exquisitely woven silk and rip it before her, all to win her favor. Bao Si, Queen of the Western Zhou, was famed for never smiling. King You of Zhou set beacon fires to amuse the feudal lords, all just to make her smile.”

Beigong Juechen’s expression grew even colder. He looked at Beigong Qiyi, his tone frosty: “And so, both Xia Jie and King You of Zhou became kings who lost their kingdoms.”

Beigong Qiyi rose and walked before him, head tilted up slightly to meet his eyes, for he was a little shorter. “I am not them, and you are neither Meixi nor Bao Si. Emperor Wu of Han once said, ‘If I could have Lady Jiao, I would build her a golden house.’ If I could have you, I would use all my power to ensure you a life free from worry.”

Beigong Juechen regarded him with a stern, cold face, then suddenly let out a low chuckle. “But in the end, Liu Che cast aside Empress Chen for Wei, and Empress Chen died in lonely confinement at Changmen Palace. The golden house collapsed, and all affection was forfeit.”

“My love for you is etched into my very bones, enduring through eternity,” Beigong Qiyi declared, clutching the man’s hand, his gaze fervent and sincere. In the young man’s eyes, it was as if two flames blazed, and at their heart was Beigong Juechen.

For the first time, Beigong Juechen looked away first. Beigong Qiyi tilted his head, slowly leaning in. Just then, the door to their private room swung open. Beigong Juechen darted instantly to the table, while Beigong Qiyi took a deep, vengeful breath, his fierce glare making the waiters delivering their food tremble all over.

One by one, dishes were set on the table. The waiters, balancing their trays, nearly fled in panic as soon as the dishes were down. Beigong Juechen glanced at Beigong Qiyi with playful mockery. “Well? Come eat.” Beigong Qiyi first grabbed the man by the neck and delivered a searing kiss, then sat by his side. Beigong Juechen wiped his mouth indifferently and murmured, “Let’s eat.”

No talking at the table, no chatter in bed—their private room fell instantly silent, broken only by the sounds of chewing.

But just then, someone barged in. “What ‘distinguished guests’? I am the true guest of honor here. I want to see just who these so-called distinguished guests are!” The intruder’s voice was coarse and loud. Beigong Qiyi put down his chopsticks and looked to the door, where a portly, ostentatiously dressed man stalked in, rings and gold chains gleaming, followed by a retinue of equally brutish lackeys and the manager, who wore a helpless, forced smile.

Catching the manager’s eye, Beigong Qiyi signaled for him to withdraw. Only then did he speak unhurriedly, “And you are?”

The leader paused at the sight of Beigong Qiyi and Beigong Juechen, then burst into raucous laughter. “So the ‘distinguished guests’ are just two pretty boys! Ha! Look at those faces—better than the top courtesans of Plum Blossom House!” His lackeys grinned lasciviously. “Boss, they’re beauties all right. Too bad they’re both men.” The fat man smacked his lackey with a gold fan, eyeing Beigong Qiyi and Beigong Juechen with undisguised hunger. “What do you know? A man’s back door is tighter than a woman’s.”

As the lewd words spewed forth, Beigong Qiyi’s face remained unchanged, but his dark eyes chilled to frozen steel. Beigong Juechen calmly set his chopsticks down. The quiet “clap” as they touched the table was soft, but it silenced all the sneers instantly.

Beigong Juechen looked at them indifferently, a cold smile on his lips. “If this were before, you’d be dead a dozen times over by now.” He was powerless now, no different from an ordinary man, and could not kill them.

The fat man, cowed by his bearing, swallowed nervously and tried to maintain his composure. “Kill me? Hah! Do you know who I am?” Beigong Juechen’s face was expressionless. “And who are you?” The man puffed out his thick neck, full of self-importance. “I’m the brother of His Majesty’s favorite concubine—Imperial Uncle Wang!”

Beigong Juechen arched a brow, then turned his head away, uninterested. Seeing this, Wang assumed he was afraid and pressed his advantage. “What, scared now? If you’re obedient, maybe I’ll spare your lives.”

Imperial Uncle Wang had long abused his sister’s favor at court to bully and exploit the people. Ordinary folk dared not oppose him, and those with power often colluded with him. Thus, he became ever more arrogant, convinced he was untouchable, forgetting the old saying: there is always a higher mountain, a stronger man.

“Imperial Uncle Wang,” Beigong Qiyi called sweetly. His voice was clear and melodious as a warbler in the willows, so beautiful it made Wang’s heart tremble. “Ah, such a sultry voice, little beauty. You’ve stolen my soul,” Wang leered.

Beigong Qiyi smiled faintly, ready to teach him a lesson, when the man beside him unexpectedly rose. Beigong Qiyi watched in surprise as Beigong Juechen strode over to Wang.

Wang, seeing him approach, smirked, “What’s this, the big beauty coming over of his own accord?” Beigong Qiyi’s expression darkened, but before he could move, a piercing scream echoed through the room. “Aaaah—” Beigong Qiyi wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Beigong Juechen ground his heel into Wang’s groin, drawing more howls of agony, then flicked his finger. Wang found himself unable to utter another sound, his mouth gaping in silent torment. “You’re too noisy,” Beigong Juechen commented coolly.

He pressed down harder with his foot. “If you can’t control yourself, allow me to do it for you.” Though his words were for Wang, his eyes rested on Beigong Qiyi. Seeing Wang’s twisted face, Beigong Qiyi glanced at his own lower body and swallowed involuntarily.

Wang’s lackeys finally reacted, rushing at Beigong Juechen, who deftly dodged aside, kicking Wang away and escaping their encirclement.

“Ow—” Wang rolled on the floor, clutching his groin, shrieking in pain. Beigong Juechen frowned, regretting that he’d just released Wang’s acupoint.

As Zhao Xi entered Shiyuan Pavilion, he was greeted by a shrill scream. He shuddered, then turned to the sympathetic yet vindicated manager behind the counter. “What’s going on?” The manager, recognizing him, straightened and replied respectfully, “Sir, it’s Imperial Uncle Wang.” Zhao Xi’s lips curled in distaste. “What’s he done this time?”

The manager hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t say, sir. You’d best go and see for yourself—Imperial Uncle’s condition is… not good.” Surprise flickered across Zhao Xi’s face, followed by a snort. “He’s run roughshod over people for years, never learning his lesson. If not for Lady Wang’s current favor at court, he’d be dead ten times over by now. What, he’s finally met his match?” The manager glanced upstairs, then leaned in to whisper, “This time, Imperial Uncle provoked someone he shouldn’t have. Sir, you’d better go up, or you’ll have trouble explaining to Lady Wang. The situation is tense; you can’t afford to offend her now.” Zhao Xi frowned deeply, then straightened his clothes and made his way upstairs.

“You… ahh…” Wang’s piggish face was contorted with pain as he pointed at Beigong Juechen, shouting at his attendants, “What are you standing around for? Teach him a lesson! Ahh… Don’t hit the face…!”

Beigong Juechen had already settled comfortably back on his cushion, sipping wine elegantly. At Wang’s words, he didn’t even look up, only shot a sidelong glance at Beigong Qiyi. The youth rose unhurriedly as the lackeys, following orders, charged forward. Beigong Juechen set down his cup and leaned back lazily against the table.

Beigong Qiyi merely raised a hand. Before anyone could see what had happened, the lackeys fell to the floor, blood seeping from beneath them, pooling together. Wang was so stunned he forgot his own pain, staring in disbelief at the smiling youth who approached.

The youth was slender and strikingly beautiful, his lips curved in a gentle, serene smile. But all Wang could see was a vivid red, as brilliant as the cinnabar mark at the boy’s brow.

“Wait!” Just as Wang was gasping his last breath, a hand seized Beigong Qiyi’s wrist. Beigong Qiyi was standing before Wang, who trembled in terror, his eyes fixed on the cinnabar at the boy’s brow. “I… I’m… the Imperial Uncle… If you… if you kill me… your whole family will be executed!” Wang’s voice rose desperately, as if clinging to a last hope in his title.

“Is that so?” Beigong Qiyi laughed softly. “Even if you are the Imperial Uncle, even if I killed your sister, the emperor wouldn’t dare touch me. Do you believe that?” His smile was light as a cloud, but Wang found himself forced to believe it, terror blooming within him as he realized just how close to death he was.

Beigong Qiyi gripped Wang’s throat, whispering, “Normally I’d keep someone like you alive to torment you, but you’re so foul-mouthed I’ve lost all interest in even that.” His grip tightened, Wang’s cheeks flushed, his mouth gaping uselessly.

“Wait.” Once more, as Wang was on the verge of death, someone seized Beigong Qiyi’s wrist. He turned to the newcomer, who, upon seeing his face, exclaimed in surprise, “It’s you!”

Beigong Qiyi frowned, recalling after a moment who this was. He arched a brow. “You know him?” Zhao Xi nodded. “Would you do me a favor and let him go?” Beigong Qiyi blinked, considering, then shook his head. “I can’t.”

A shadow crossed Zhao Xi’s face. He looked at Beigong Qiyi, his voice lowering, “You know his status. I don’t want to make things difficult—if you let him go, I promise this ends here. He won’t trouble you again.”

Beigong Qiyi tilted his head. “As I said, even if I killed his sister, the emperor wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me.” The youth’s voice was proud and resolute, sending a chill through Zhao Xi’s heart. He’d once tried to investigate the youth’s background, only to find nothing—a sure sign this was no ordinary man. In the world, only one group would dare speak so boldly of the emperor: Lishan Manor!

Bai Qi… no, Beigong Qiyi! Zhao Xi’s eyes darkened. “Young Master Bai—no, Young Master Beigong, will you truly not give me this face?” Beigong Qiyi shrugged and blinked innocently. “It’s not that I refuse you, Sir Zhao. It’s just that this man has violated my deepest taboo.”

“Qiyi.” As Beigong Qiyi finished, a lazy, low voice sounded. Both he and Zhao Xi turned. Though anxious, Zhao Xi had felt the man’s presence the moment he entered, so overwhelming it could not be ignored for even a second, though he sat silent and still.

The Master of Lishan Manor—famed throughout the martial world—was known to all, but this was Zhao Xi’s first time seeing Beigong Juechen. In that moment, only eight words came to mind: unmatched in grace, peerless in the world.

Author’s note: So many words this chapter, right? [starry eyes] I have to take a break—for the next week, I’ll be busy filming my final project. Updates resume next Thursday! I’ll try to post daily! Love you all!