Everyone had gone insane.
Those above had selected a large group of noble scions to go to Penglin Garden for the spring hunt. As usual, Ji Hong used poor health as an excuse to avoid this tiresome journey, whereas the “neighboring” Second Young Master Min did not have such luck and inevitably had to accompany them. After both of them left the court and walked out of the palace gates, Min Xuefei heaved many long sighs, teasing that he was obviously much better now and thus was “deceiving the emperor.”
Ji Hong’s expression did not change: “There is someone at home whom I miss, so I cannot go.”
Min Xuefei rolled his eyes almost to the top of his head. The two entered the palanquin together. While boarding the carriage, Min Xuefei supported himself on Ji Hong’s arm, but who would have thought that Ji Hong suddenly withdrew it, almost causing Second Young Master Min to fall to the ground. He barely managed to stand firm and said indignantly, “It was just lending a hand for support! Why are you putting on airs?”
Ji Hong lifted his court robe and drilled into the carriage, sitting on one side without speaking.
“I truly do not know how I have offended our great Lord Ji to the point that he will not even say a casual word to me?” Min Xuefei muttered.
Because Ji Hong’s body had been frail in the past, he spent far more time riding in carriages than walking, so he was accustomed to leaving a few idle books in the carriage to pass the time on the road. He did not bother to listen to what Min Xuefei wanted to say; instead, he took out a book for himself and held it open in his hands. After just one glance, his expression suddenly changed, and he snapped the booklet shut, pressing it firmly on his knee. It was as if he had been pricked in the eye by something, for he kept them tightly closed for a good while before opening them again.
Min Xuefei stared at him for a moment, saw his face flush, and asked in confusion, “Shu Luan, you…”
Ji Hong’s gaze flickered outside. The carriage and horses reached a fork in the road, and he suddenly ordered Duan Ming, who was driving, to stop. Without turning his head, he said to Second Young Master Min, “Get off here. I am going to Jinyouting, which is not quite on the way.”
“……”
Min Xuefei was unceremoniously driven out of the carriage. Facing the long road home and watching as the carriage rumbled away, he thought that he was, after all, a court official, yet he had been tossed out onto the street like this. It was both infuriating and amusing. Unable to resist, he cursed at the distant carriage, “Truly casting aside loyalty at the sight of beauty!”
As it turned out, Min Xuefei had guessed correctly!
Ji Hong lowered all the curtains around the carriage compartment and composed himself. Seeing that Duan Ming in front was intently driving forward, showing no sign of turning back, only then did he muster the courage to open that booklet again. Deceiving himself, he glanced furtively at the title on the cover: “Wild Fox Saliva.”
Inside, it was absurd. Sometimes two people, sometimes three, and sometimes just one. Intertwined bodies, varying in fatness, thickness, height, and shape. Moreover, several pages were done with meticulous colored illustrations, every detail minutely depicted—flesh pale and tender, pinkish hues, hair like ink clouds pressed beneath an elbow. There were coquettish youths of all kinds, enchanting waists, and even one descending from the clouds, secretly wrapped in a fluffy big tail like an immortal fox demon. Their expressions and postures were crafted with shameless precision, making one unable to look directly.
He was rooted in place, his heart thumping loudly.
Who placed it there?
Who else could it be!
The carriage took a turn beneath Lan Bridge, but it did not head toward Jinyouting. Instead, it returned to the Duke Li’s residence.
Ji Hong leaned against the carriage wall, his soul startled out of him. Not until they reached the house and Duan Ming called out to him did he come back to his senses. He opened his eyes, hastily stuffed that sinful booklet back among the pile of books, brushed off his robes, and got off. Only after seeing the plaque of Duke Li’s residence overhead did he manage to restrain his mind. As he walked inside, he asked, “Where is Jinnian today? How are the preparations for the shop going?”
“Shi Xing sent word earlier that everything about the shop is fine, except that it is missing a signboard. For the past two days, the young master has been busy with matters of the shop and has been resting at Jinyouting. According to Shi Xing, his mood does not seem very good.” Duan Ming followed behind him as they passed by Kanghe Courtyard but did not enter, heading straight inside. He glanced at the tightly closed small gate of Kanghe Courtyard and took the opportunity to hint to his master, “From what I gathered, the store name has already been decided, but he has been slow to have a signboard made. I suppose he might be waiting for you, Shizi, to write the inscription!”
Ji Hong paused, frowned, and said, “He did not tell me.”
He suddenly stopped. Duan Ming could only step back slightly and lowered his head to remind, “You have not seen the young master these few days.”
His words were tactful, but in truth, it was not that they had not met, but that Ji Hong had deliberately avoided him. It was so obvious that not only Yu Jinnian but even a rough man like Duan Ming could see through it. Only Ji Hong, who was caught in the midst of it, believed he had done it flawlessly.
Ji Hong remained silent for a moment, then, without a word, continued walking. After turning a long corridor and pushing open a heavy red paulownia door, he entered a dim, secluded little courtyard deep in the mansion.
Duan Ming raised his eyes slightly and saw, under pink walls and black tiles, a solemn and ancient plaque that read “Walk the Righteous Path.” That plaque had seen many years; even if it was refurbished every few years, it could not hide its gradual decay and the smell of rotting wood. Beyond this point, he was not qualified to follow. He could only stop, while Ji Hong merely stepped through one door and stood between two thresholds, also looking up at that “Walk the Righteous Path” plaque.
Those not qualified to enter included not only Duan Ming, a servant.
Ji Hong took off his outer court robe, folded it neatly, handed it to Duan Ming, then lifted his garment’s hem. Wearing only his inner clothes, he knelt on the steps.
After a full two hours, Duan Ming waited outside. He could still move his feet occasionally, but already found it unbearable, let alone the person inside who was not kneeling on level ground, but on a set of sharp, uneven steps. Duan Ming craned his head and saw that man sitting upright like a bamboo stalk, showing not the slightest indulgence in easing his posture. His back was soaked with sweat, sticking thinly to his spine and leaving a mottled pattern.
He had just called out “Master” when someone approached from the corridor with a lantern. Duan Ming hurriedly withdrew to the side.
The newcomer was an older woman, hair graying at the temples, dressed in a dark green skirt and wearing simple hairpins. Two maids followed her. She entered without looking at Ji Hong, who was kneeling at the door, went straight inside, took three sticks of incense, knelt on a prayer mat before the ancestors, and recited a Buddhist scripture: “In all the heavens and earth, there was no one like the Buddha. In the ten directions of the world, there was none to compare. I have seen all that exists in the world; there is nothing that equals the Buddha…”
Within the devout Buddhist chanting, a cold voice suddenly rang out: “This is the tenth day.”
He said: “Madam Ji.”
The chanting abruptly ceased, and Madam Ji looked up.
Ji Hong said: “Back then, beyond the North Yan Pass, in the far northern ice fields, when heavy snow sealed the mountain, it was also ten days—”
Duan Ming stepped forward in shock, not even having time to dissuade him. Madam Ji’s eyes had already reddened. She took the family rod from the incense table, strode over in a few steps, and lashed him hard, telling him to “shut up.”
Yet he refused to shut up. He took that blow head-on. The wound that had barely stopped bleeding last night now seeped with fresh blood again. How could it ever heal after these days and nights of repeated torment? But he showed no remorse. On the contrary, he knelt, straight-backed, his lips pressed tight as if he felt no pain, insisting on continuing: “When the mountain was sealed by snow for ten days… in the icy cave of the snowy plains, at the end of all paths, in order to save my life, Second Brother cut himself thrice.”
Crack—yet another strike.
At this moment, Duan Ming felt that he had gone mad. For so many years, no one dared mention Ji Yan’s death. Not only because his death was wretched and caused the Ji family to lose its legitimate heir, but also because it was a scar branded on Madam Ji’s heart, a knot she could never untie in this lifetime. Back then, the uproar was so severe that nearly all the Ji family’s servants were replaced. Now, to tear it open again was merely to rend flesh and bone once more.
Blow after blow, Madam Ji only told him to shut up. She punished fiercely, yet wept bitterly, almost like venting her grief.
His entire inner garment was now marred front and back, with no piece larger than a palm unscathed, front covered in wounds, back soaked in sweat.
Ji Hong bit down hard, enduring countless lashes. After all, his body was frail. When another strike landed on his right shoulder, he finally staggered and fell aside. Duan Ming swiftly caught him. Seeing the Third Young Master still struggling to rise, he could not bear it any longer and said, “Madam, the Third Young Master is now at least the heir personally bestowed by the Son of Heaven, in the future—”
“In the future?” Madam Ji’s eyes were bloodshot. On her dignified and noble face, only grief and anger remained. “This unfilial son killed my child… In the future, he will kill me, kill his own father, and then this Duke Li’s estate will be his! This heir’s title is something he snatched from Yan’er! Now he wants to bring a kept boy into the household, just like that seductive, disastrous mother of his. Both are calamities sent from heaven!”
She cursed Duan Ming along with him: “You are all ungrateful creatures who bring disgrace upon this family! I tell you, Ji Hong, the Ji family will not tolerate him unless I am dead!”
Ji Hong straightened up on his knees, also bearing his anger: “I am indeed ungrateful and disgraceful. Those three cuts Second Brother gave himself, I have repaid for twenty years. I have knelt on these steps outside the ancestral hall for twenty years. I ask myself and feel no guilt. These ten days, I knelt before our ancestors. These one hundred and twenty lashes I repay for the grace of my father’s upbringing… Tomorrow morning, I will move out of the Ji estate.”
“What did you say?” Madam Ji could not believe it. “Ji Hong, are you trying to expel yourself from the family? Are you trying to bring down the Ji family? Yan’er saved you, a wolf-hearted and dog-lunged creature. You ate his flesh and drank his blood to survive, and you think a hundred and twenty lashes can repay it cleanly? I always knew you were born rebellious, but who would have thought that in the end, you would do this for a mere kept boy… truly ridiculous!”
Ji Hong lowered his gaze, and for the first time ever, retorted against Madam Ji: “I will repay Second Brother’s kindness all my life, but as for the Ji family, I owe it not a shred of gratitude. Today, regardless of for whom I act, even if it’s laughable, it’s not your place to laugh at me.”
Duan Ming exclaimed anxiously: “Third Young Master!”
Pa—
Sure enough, another vicious whip lashed Ji Hong’s body, tearing a straight slit in his inner garment.
“Kneel! Kneel until morning, then get out of Duke Li’s estate!” Madam Ji was too furious to say more. She threw the rod heavily at Ji Hong and stormed out of the ancestral hall.
——
Once she left, Duan Ming immediately tried to pull Ji Hong up, but Ji Hong refused to rise.
He truly knelt all night.
Perhaps he was thinking, or perhaps he was simply bidding farewell—bidding farewell to this place barely called “home,” devoid of any familial warmth.
Not until the night ended and dawn broke did Ji Hong suddenly move.
Duan Ming hurriedly reached out to help him, but before his hand could reach him, he noticed the other man smiling. Duan Ming was stunned, as if he had seen a ghost, sighing in exasperation: “Third Young Master, how can you still smile! Where did you learn this from? Couldn’t you be more accommodating? Is there nothing that can’t be reasoned through? Madam only has some prejudice in her heart. If she meets the young master in the future, she will surely change her view. How did it come to this?”
“I have accommodated more than once or twice, and to this day, she has not changed her view of me one bit.” Ji Hong’s face was as pale as paper, and his wounds had clotted over, his inner garment pitifully stuck to him, yet he was in a great mood. “Since that’s the case, why should someone I cannot bear to scold even once have to suffer from unrelated people’s displeasure in this estate?”
Ji Hong stood before the ancestral hall, lifting his head to the brilliant morning sun.
He reached out to take the court robe that Duan Ming had held for him all night, shook it out, and neatly donned it.
The crimson, stately court attire concealed all his wretchedness. Thus arrayed, he was once again that renowned Ji Shuluan—Ji Hong. He lowered his head and lightly dusted his sleeves, smiling: “Come, let’s go home. Perhaps we can still catch the morning meal.”
“……” Duan Ming muttered silently, everyone had gone insane.