As he thought about it, Ning Xuan could not help but feel a sudden surge of sorrow. Clearly, nothing had even begun to take shape, clearly it was something distant and uncertain with an unknowable future, yet for some reason his heart pounded with unease, as if he could see a faraway, illusory future—see that noble figure seated upon the imperial throne, clad in radiant imperial yellow, looking down from above; see those features, familiar yet strange, now more resolute and mature, yet all the more impossible to read or fathom.
“Damn it! Why have I been stuck in ‘maiden mode’ lately?!” Ning Xuan smacked his forehead sharply.
Knock, knock, knock—three crisp, rhythmic knocks sounded, followed by a clear and pleasant voice from outside: “Is Ning Xuan here?”
Just hearing that voice—soft and tender—it had to belong to a graceful young beauty. Ning Xuan thought to himself with delight.
“I’m here—coming.” Shaking his head vigorously to cast off those chaotic thoughts, he hurried to open the door, eager to behold the elegance of a classical beauty.
An oval face, fair skin, not particularly tall yet lively and delicate—but that flat chest… Ning Xuan felt dizzy. Wasn’t this supposed to be a beautiful young maiden? How had it turned out to be a genuine young man?! Had this era already reached the point where beauty blurred the line between male and female, everyone possessing such enchanting allure?
The young servant, nearly the same height as Ning Xuan, looked him up and down before casually stepping into the room. “I’m Yi Xuan. I’ve served by the Prince’s side since childhood, so the steward sent me to explain the rules to you.” Seeing Ning Xuan still frozen at the doorway, he chuckled, “What are you standing there for? I’m not going to eat you.”
What followed was a long, muddled session of instruction, leaving Ning Xuan dizzy and disoriented. This cannot be done, that must not be done; this must be done this way, that must be done that way—the endless rules and regulations were enough to compile an entire book. After much effort, Ning Xuan arrived at a single conclusion: this person is damn hard to serve!
Along the way, Yi Xuan also shared various anecdotes and small stories, perhaps thanks to the delicate and delicious pastries laid out before them. Yet those seemingly casual, insignificant tales carried deeper meaning for Ning Xuan, making him instinctively keep his distance from the Prince’s methods of punishment. What did it mean to kill without shedding blood? What did it mean to suffer beyond endurance? Ning Xuan now had some idea. Combined with Yi Xuan’s vivid, exaggerated storytelling—his tongue so sharp it could “talk the dead to life without consequence”—it all felt disturbingly real, as though happening right before his eyes.
After seeing Yi Xuan off, Ning Xuan’s mind was left in a muddled haze, a chaotic blur, while in his head the Prince’s words echoed over and over—“Drag him out, feed him to the dogs.” A perfectly healthy living person, just like that, tortured to death—at the very least, couldn’t they have been given a swift end to spare some suffering? Even the dogs would have had an easier time, wouldn’t they?!
At the Prince’s side there were seven personal attendants, named Yi Shu, Yi Xuan, Yi Ji, Yi Quan, Yi Heng, Yi Yang, and Yi Guang. When Ning Xuan first heard their names, he could not help but roll his eyes—so refined and scholarly in tone, and yet arranged like the Seven Stars of the Big Dipper!
No matter which master one served, even when the Prince summoned someone for nightly attendance, someone had to keep watch each night. One person per day would wait along the corridor outside the chamber, ready in case the master required anything at any moment—and under this Prince, such rules were enforced even more strictly.
All princes and court officials attended morning court at the hour of Mao, while the Prince rose at the hour of Yin to wash, dress, and prepare before entering the palace. As for servants like them, they had to be ready an hour earlier still, waiting outside in case of any sudden incident.
With dark circles under his eyes like a pair of pandas, Ning Xuan stood with the other seven “Big Dipper stars” behind the door, yawning repeatedly. In his heart, he grumbled: what sudden incident could possibly happen? In the Prince’s manor, the Prince is supreme—if he doesn’t stir trouble, who would dare cause waves? This kind of labor exploitation is downright inhumane, like that tyrant Zhou Bapi, and without even overtime pay!
Elio’s Notes: Zhou Bapi is a well-known folkloric/fictional character in modern Chinese storytelling, used as a symbol of a cruel, exploitative landlord.
Yet not long after the hour of Chou, Steward Mo appeared in the courtyard, silent yet imposing, beginning to count heads. When he reached Ning Xuan, he even circled him once or twice, seemingly intentional, before leaving. It was said to be an old custom, a routine morning inspection, though Ning Xuan had no mind to care about the reasoning behind it.
After making a few simple arrangements, Mo Yan left, supposedly to attend to other matters within the manor. In Ning Xuan’s eyes, however, it simply meant the man was too sleepy and had gone off early to find a good place to sneak in another nap.
“Hey, hey!” Yi Xuan scolded softly, yet Ning Xuan continued swaying, his body rocking and his head bobbing like a pecking chick, nodding nonstop. Annoyed, Yi Xuan shifted slightly to the right, took aim at his shin—and kicked him squarely.
“Ah!” Ning Xuan cried out in pain, but Yi Xuan swiftly covered his mouth. The originally loud cry was forcibly muffled into a few faint, barely audible whimpers.
The strike landed squarely on a spot with little flesh, sudden and merciless, catching him completely off guard. The pain made tears well instantly in Ning Xuan’s eyes. Turning back, he saw Yi Xuan looking entirely unconcerned, even wearing an expression as if it were only natural. Ning Xuan could not help but lament his poor judgment in making friends—no sooner had he escaped the wolf’s den than he had entered the tiger’s lair. Though Yi Xuan appeared fair, delicate, and well-behaved, he was full of crafty tricks. Though they had not known each other long, just a single night of conversation had already caused Ning Xuan no small amount of suffering. Perhaps it was fate—both their names contained “Xuan”, though written differently; perhaps it was coincidence—both were carefree and unrestrained in temperament. In any case, like-minded spirits had found one another, and after only a few exchanges, they had become what could only be called “rascal friends”.
“What are you doing?! You nearly scared me to death!” Ning Xuan finally managed to break free from the hand over his mouth, but did not dare make a scene. He could only turn back pitifully and scold in a low voice. His left shin throbbed with a burning pain, yet the eight attendants waiting outside all stood respectfully with lowered heads, lined up on either side. Though no one paid attention to him, he still did not dare squat down openly to rub it. “It really hurts…” Ning Xuan muttered resentfully.
Oh, so you do know pain?” Yi Xuan yawned lazily—silent, yet perfectly timed to add fuel to the fire. “Look at you—completely absent-minded, half-asleep. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you went off enjoying yourself last night.”
Just listen to that—was that something a proper youth should say? He was only fifteen, the same age as Ning Xuan, so how could he speak so shamelessly, tossing out such remarks without the slightest embarrassment, as if it were perfectly natural?
“Bullshit! I only rested for a few hours—how could that possibly be enough sleep?!” Ning Xuan snapped, bristling.
“Tsk tsk, youth really is a wonderful thing. Just a few words and your face is already flushed—what a sight, what a sight~” Yi Xuan cast a sideways glance at Ning Xuan’s suddenly reddened face, teasing him quietly. “With that look, you’ll surely win the Prince’s favor someday~”
“You—!”
“Alright, alright~” Yi Xuan cut him off, waving his hand as he quietly returned to his position. “I was just saying it casually. Look how serious you got.” He lifted his gaze toward the gradually brightening sky. “The Prince should be waking soon. Stay sharp—don’t keep nodding like a pecking chick. If you end up neglecting your duties, you’ll be the one to suffer the consequences!”
Ning Xuan froze. So all that just now had been to make him stay alert—his heart could not help but warm at the thought. Yet before that feeling could last more than a moment, Yi Xuan’s indifferent voice drifted over from the side: “Turn that filthy face away already—it’s ugly as hell.”
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