014 Is It Mockery, or Not?

Sang Zhongli stiffened his neck, adamantly denying any indecent conduct in the concubine’s chambers. Sang Zhongshi, for his part, saw nothing shameful about seizing the courtesan. Yet their lack of shame only provoked Lady Sang Wei of the second household, who sharply twisted her husband’s arm. Sang Zhongli dared not meet her gaze, while the concubine Feng looked at her husband with tender, affectionate eyes. See, even with his father’s death imminent, he could not forget to seek pleasure with her. Clearly, she meant more to him than his principal wife, who, without his care and affection, was nothing at all.

Meanwhile, Lady Sang Ruan of the third household delivered a resounding slap to her husband's face. “So you went to fight over a courtesan? Such wanton behavior—just what you’re capable of! Tell me, which establishment is she from? I must see if this courtesan is truly as beautiful as they say!”

Sang Zhongshi shot a furious sideways glance at Sang Hongyun, not daring to retort before his lioness of a wife.

Sang Hongyun said, “That’s why, at Grandfather’s tomb, the Sang family is far more peaceful without the likes of you.”

After speaking, Sang Hongyun felt exhausted. Her body had yet to fully recover, and she’d only managed to slip away from Prince Li’s manor for a short while. She would have to hurry back.

Sang Zhongli was dragged and pushed back to his room by Lady Sang Wei. Sang Zhongshi trailed meekly behind Lady Sang Ruan, not daring to utter a word. With his allowance halved once more, his chances of visiting courtesans dwindled to nothing. Ever since the day Sang Hongyun returned, there had been no more days of freely spending silver with the housekeeper Feng in charge. Those carefree days were gone, and now he was back to counting coins, living a pitiful existence.

Yawning, Sang Hongyun returned to Prince Li’s manor, where Zhao Yi waited just inside the main gate. “Captain Sang, His Highness asks you to come to him.”

“Oh?” Sang Hongyun replied.

Prince Li was dressed in a pale moon-white robe, the room already warmed by a brazier glowing with silver coals. Stepping inside, Sang Hongyun was enveloped by a gentle heat and immediately felt at ease. She addressed the prince, “Your Highness, you sent for me?”

Prince Li, Zhao Liran, reclined against a soft divan as though he had no bones, and looked up. “My leg is aching. Come, take a look.”

Sang Hongyun eyed the prince as he moved to roll up his silk trousers and lowered her gaze. “I’ll summon the royal physician.”

“Stop,” said Prince Li sternly as she turned to leave.

Sang Hongyun halted at the threshold, embarrassed. “Does Your Highness require something?”

“I told you to examine my leg. Is that so difficult? Weren’t you sent here by imperial order? What, do you mean to defy it?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Sang Hongyun replied.

“Then see to it,” Prince Li commanded, eyes fixed on her.

Reluctantly, Sang Hongyun approached and gently rolled up his trouser leg to just above the knee. The area was more swollen than an ordinary person’s and tinged with a visible redness.

“How did this happen?” she inquired.

“It’s been this way for a long time,” Prince Li answered. “Even the royal physicians can’t cure it.”

Could it be an old bone injury? But it had been two years since the injury. Even if it had affected the bone, the redness should have faded; only the inner ache should remain. Sang Hongyun recalled her experience tending the wounded. Perhaps the prince had recently overexerted himself and aggravated the old wound.

“Has Your Highness exerted himself lately?”

“No,” he replied.

“Then it’s a recurrence of an old injury?”

“I don’t know,” he said, closing his eyes. There it was again—that feeling: those soft, warm fingers pressing gently against his knee, like a feather brushing past, so soothing, so hard to relinquish. After two years, he still remembered those ten days and nights of care. From the moment he’d awoken, Zhao Liran had never wanted to forget.

Sang Hongyun pressed and kneaded, circling the area, puzzled by what she found. Looking up, she saw that the prince had drifted to sleep. Glancing around, she noticed Zhao Yi had long since slipped away. Feeling her cheeks flush, she quickly withdrew her hand.

The warmth of her touch suddenly gone, Zhao Liran opened his eyes, the tips of his ears tinged red. “Why did you stop?”

Sang Hongyun rose. “Your Highness has been overexerting yourself, perhaps using your leg too much. In the future, you should ride in a carriage or a sedan when leaving the manor.”

Prince Li considered this. “Very well. From now on, you’ll accompany me.” Riding in a sedan was out of the question, but a carriage—they could ride together. The thought stirred something within him.

Sang Hongyun frowned. “Your Highness, anyone in your service could do this. I have matters to tend to in the Sang household, especially with my father absent…”

Leaving the prince’s study, Sang Hongyun felt dispirited. They say serving a prince is like living alongside a tiger; Prince Li was certainly that tiger. How had she ended up being roared at? And what did he mean by saying the Sang family was less important than him? Was he a person and the Sang family not? Besides, after all that had happened in the Sang household, she needed time to heal, not to mention the unrest caused by those unruly relatives. Most importantly, she had to investigate her grandfather’s death.

Prince Li, it seemed, had nothing urgent for her. Back in her room, Sang Hongyun had the servants bring hot water, bathed alone, and reluctantly lay on the heated kang bed. The servants had stoked the fire beneath it, so it was warm—just like the kang beds of the northwest frontier. She thought of her grandfather’s death, her father stuck on the frontier, unable to return to the capital, and resolved that tomorrow she must send someone to the border to inform Sang Zhongyang of all that had transpired.

The next day, Prince Li Zhao Liran left the manor, true to his word, riding in a carriage. Zhao Yi, now his attendant, courteously invited Sang Hongyun aboard as well.

Prince Li said quietly, “I did as you advised.”

Sang Hongyun thought to herself, What does it matter whether you follow my advice or not? It’s always your choice, Your Highness.

“As long as Your Highness is comfortable. Where are we going?”

Prince Li glanced at the book in his hand. “The An family residence.”

The An family?