Chapter Twelve: Yu Hualiang's Sorrow

No matter what, as long as he made himself seem like a simpleton, that would be enough. A man of status like the Seventh Prince would surely not trouble himself over a fool.

With this in mind, Yu Hualiang headed straight for the river.

The Seventh Prince hadn’t expected such foolishness from him! Nor had Yu Hualiang foreseen that as soon as he stepped into the water, his foot would slip on a stone and send him plunging toward the river.

His first attempt was already a disaster. He’d thought he was about to make intimate acquaintance with the icy water, but just as he lost his balance, a strong arm encircled his waist and held him back.

When Yu Hualiang opened his eyes, he found himself tipped sideways, saved from falling into the river only by the Seventh Prince’s grasp.

As he marveled at the prince’s surprising strength, the man suddenly gave a backward tug, and Yu Hualiang, light as a doll, landed squarely in his embrace.

Above his head came a voice with a hint of worry: “That was close. Ziliang, you’re not hurt, are you?”

Yu Hualiang looked up at him. The Seventh Prince was strikingly handsome, his gaze deep and tender like a pool of spring water. His pale lips curved ever so slightly, as if he were looking at a young lady.

Being stared at so intently sent a chill down Yu Hualiang’s spine. He quickly pushed the prince away. “Thank you, Your Highness, I’m unhurt…”

Mu Zicheng, seeing the embarrassed flush on Yu Hualiang’s face, found him all the more adorable. He suddenly wanted to hold him again, just as before…

There was a faint, elusive fragrance on this young man—barely perceptible, yet captivating. Noticing Yu Hualiang’s shoes were wet, Mu Zicheng worried that in this weather, they’d soon freeze.

He spoke with concern: “Ziliang, shall I carry you on my back?”

“Huh?” Yu Hualiang was utterly bewildered.

The prince pointed at his shoes. Yu Hualiang grinned foolishly. “It’s nothing, really. The carriage is nearby, and Mo Cai brought me a spare pair.”

“That won’t do,” the prince replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always been delicate; what if you catch a chill?”

Yu Hualiang, face awkward, refused, “No, no, Your Highness, it’s really nothing. I’m not that frail. Let’s just stroll that way, shall we?”

He tried to brush it off, though his shoes were wet and the cold bit painfully at his feet. Still, as a man of some backbone, he couldn’t well complain.

His gait was a bit off, but not enough to betray his discomfort.

The Seventh Prince, however, saw through it. After realizing he liked men, he’d tried seeking out handsome courtesans at the brothel, but those men were more coquettish than women, and none pleased him. Only Yu Hualiang truly won his favor.

“Ziliang, if you’re not feeling well, you can tell me,” the prince probed.

Yu Hualiang shook his head vigorously, refusing again. “Really, I’m fine, Your Highness. You needn’t worry about me.”

The prince smiled, then suddenly stepped behind him and swept him up in his arms. Yu Hualiang, startled by the gesture, clung desperately to the prince’s cloak.

“Your—Your Highness! I’m truly fine! There’s no need for this—you’ll give people the wrong idea! You know what they say about my reputation!” Yu Hualiang protested, mortified.

He’d just been carried in a princess hold by another man! It was the ultimate humiliation.

The prince looked down at him. In his arms, Yu Hualiang was like a restless little rabbit, brow furrowed, eyes brimming with unshed tears—enough to stir anyone’s compassion.

Especially those soft, tempting lips. The prince held him tighter and teased, “Yu Hualiang, you truly are a rare treasure…”

Yu Hualiang froze, his body stiffening. Had he really been targeted by a…?

With no other choice, he tried to clarify, “Um, Your Highness, I’m not… I’m not inclined that way…”

The prince only smiled, offering no reply, and carried him on, bantering all the while. “You’re so light, Ziliang. You’ll need to take better care of yourself from now on.”

“Hey? Hey! Your Highness! Could you please put me down? I can really walk on my own!” Yu Hualiang flopped about like a freshly-caught fish.

With no alternative, the prince set him down, wearing an innocent expression as he asked, “Ziliang, why won’t you let me hold you?”

Yu Hualiang sighed helplessly. “Your Highness, you understand—we’re both men. If you carry me like that… it’s embarrassing.”

His voice grew softer as he spoke, worried he’d anger the prince, but the Seventh Prince only chuckled. “Oh? Not because you’re shy?”

“Absolutely not!” Yu Hualiang rebuffed him. Shy, your brother-in-law!

“Young master…” Mo Cai’s voice trailed off as he approached and saw the prince behind Yu Hualiang. He’d thought the prince would have long since gone his own way.

Yu Hualiang saw Mo Cai and felt as if he’d glimpsed his savior. He hurried over. “Mo Cai! Take me to the carriage so I can change my shoes.”

Mo Cai looked down and exclaimed, “Young master, how did your shoes get wet?”

“Never mind that—just take me!” In his rush, Yu Hualiang turned back toward the prince to say something, but the prince waved him on.

Yu Hualiang smiled in gratitude and hurried off with Mo Cai.

After he left, the prince’s bodyguard, Ye Fang, came over and grumbled, “Your Highness, Yu Hualiang is too unruly!”

“It’s no matter. He’s only interesting because he’s like this.”

Meanwhile, Yu Hualiang sat in the carriage changing his shoes, pondering how he could appear even more foolish. Only then, perhaps, would the prince leave him alone.

Mo Cai brought out a small brazier from the carriage and, seeing the worry on Yu Hualiang’s face, asked with concern, “Young master, is something troubling you?”

Yu Hualiang sighed. “How does one make a gay man give up on chasing another man?”

Mo Cai regretted asking at once. He knew well enough that his young master’s mind was already unhinged.

That evening, after a hasty farewell to the Seventh Prince, Yu Hualiang returned home and was greeted at the door by Ah Liu.

“Hualiang!” Ah Liu threw herself into his arms, catching him off guard.

“All right, all right—let’s get inside. It’s cold out.”

Back in his room, Yu Hualiang dove beneath the covers without even removing his clothes. Ah Liu, worried he’d be cold, had prepared ginger soup, which she brought to him.

He downed it in one gulp, feeling warmth spread through his body. Ah Liu’s smile was as bright as a blossom, and Yu Hualiang felt his heart warmed as well.

For a moment, he thought having such a virtuous wife wasn’t so bad. The next, he wanted to slap himself—how could he even think of turning gay?

“Hualiang, are you cold? Let me warm you up!” Ah Liu said, climbing under the covers. Before he could dodge, she wrapped her arms around him.

Yu Hualiang felt completely ill at ease. “Ah Liu, actually… I’m not…”

“Hualiang…” He hadn’t finished before he saw her tearful eyes, recalling all the things she’d done with that expression in the past. He lost the courage to say another word.

He forced a laugh. “Actually, I’m hungry!”

Ah Liu beamed and got up. “Wait here, I’ll go make you something! What would you like?”

Yu Hualiang thought for a moment, then replied, “How about stewed old hen?”

Receiving her orders, Ah Liu went off to the kitchen. Yu Hualiang sat on the bed, warming his feet and fretting about his future at the Seventh Prince’s residence.

As he pondered, his father entered with a broad grin. “My son?”

Yu Hualiang paused. “Dad… Father?”

Yu Ming nodded. “Mo Cai told me you performed brilliantly today! I’m very pleased.”

So he’d heard about Yu Hualiang’s contest with Chang Zihao. Yu Ming sat at the bedside and sighed. “My son, the day after tomorrow you’ll take up your post at the Seventh Prince’s residence. There are some things I must say.”

“Yes, Father?” Sensing the gravity of the moment, Yu Hualiang grew nervous.

“The prince’s household is not like our own. You must conduct yourself with care and not act so thoughtlessly.”

With his father’s earnest words, Yu Hualiang grew more interested in these so-called rules.

He leaned forward to ask, “What rules, exactly?”

Yu Ming frowned, but knowing his son was different from others, he patiently explained, “For instance, when greeting the prince or the emperor, you must bow in salute. When meeting high officials, you must bow as well.”

“I understand,” Yu Hualiang nodded.

“And when the prince speaks to you, you must respond properly, not perfunctorily. The Seventh Prince is tolerant, but others may not be. Besides, the prince’s moods are unpredictable…”

After a lengthy list of admonitions, Yu Ming summed it up: “If it’s fate, you cannot escape it; if it’s trouble, you can’t avoid it. Perhaps this is your chance, my son…”

Trying to reassure himself, Yu Ming’s words only made Yu Hualiang feel impending doom.

He ventured, “Father, can’t I avoid going to the prince’s household?”

Yu Ming’s eyes bulged, his face darkening. “My son! Do you know whom you offended? If you refuse to go, even I cannot keep your head on your shoulders!”

Yu Hualiang swallowed. The Seventh Prince seemed easygoing enough, but the thought of his inclinations made Yu Hualiang uncomfortable.

He also knew that in the old days, imperial orders could not be defied. He didn’t want to bring harm to his family. They doted on him as their only son. If he made trouble or tried to escape…

His father would surely die of anger. So, though he’d once dreamed of roaming the world free as the wind, Yu Hualiang resigned himself.

“Ah, let fate take its course,” he sighed, gazing at the twilight sky and lamenting the helplessness of his—or rather, Yu Hualiang’s—life.

“Hualiang!” Ah Liu stood at the door, holding a bowl of chicken soup, her face smeared with ash.

Yu Hualiang looked at her—she looked like a coal miner. Taking the soup, he smiled, “How did you manage this?”

Ah Liu beamed with pride. “I made it just for you. Try it.”

He nodded and looked at the steaming, fragrant broth, its aroma whetting his appetite. He couldn’t wait to take a sip.

The hot soup scalded him, making his heart, liver, and lungs ache. Seeing this, Ah Liu quickly handed him some hot tea to soothe his throat.

“Hualiang, you must be more careful!” She took the bowl, blew on a spoonful of soup, and brought it to his lips.

Yu Hualiang, mouth full of blistering soup and a stinging tongue, tried to say he didn’t need help, but in his haste, bit his tongue again.

“I… really don’t need…”