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Red Lantern Pavillion Ch. 02

Chapter Two

Lanling Palace -- The Imperial Study, Just Before Midnight

The summons had been wordless--a single red lacquer token delivered by a silent eunuch, its weight heavier than gold. Only one man used it.

Li Jinyan walked the darkened corridors alone, hair still damp from the bath, robes hastily fastened but unmistakably noble. When he reached the study doors, the guards opened them without announcement.

Inside, the room was dim but warm, lit by a brazier and a few oil lamps. Scrolls lined every wall, and a quiet tension sat in the air like incense smoke.

Fu Yìchén, Emperor of Lanling, stood with his back to the door, hands clasped behind him. Though well into his sixties, he stood tall--his frame still broad beneath layers of ceremonial silk, his posture that of a man who had once worn armor more comfortably than robes. His hair was streaked with grey, but his voice was steel.

"You've finally come," he said without turning.

Li Jinyan said nothing as he approached, each footstep sharp against polished stone.

The emperor turned slowly. His gaze was calm, cold, and completely awake.Red Lantern Pavillion Ch. 02 фото

"So," Fu Yìchén said, folding his arms. "The madame of the Red Lantern Pavilion marched into my son's private chambers like she owned them."

He arched a brow. "Did she?"

"She spoke freely," Jinyan said.

"She spoke like a woman who had seen something worse than a prince in the dark," Fu Yìchén replied. "And I suspect she did."

He circled the desk slowly, eyes never leaving his son.

"I've tolerated your... inclinations," the emperor said. "You were a child of storms. I thought if I gave you control, you would master it. And until now, you have."

He stopped just in front of Jinyan.

"But tonight? You took something sacred and left it in the dirt."

"She submitted," Jinyan said tightly. "Willingly."

"I believe you. And I know what that means to someone like you."

Fu Yìchén's voice softened--not in mercy, but in warning.

"Which is why I'm going to say this only once: if you want her, you take her into your household. Properly. Under name and protection."

He stepped back.

"If not, she will be reassigned. To another patron. One of my choosing."

Li's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing.

"I won't be forced into a claim," he said.

Fu Yìchén gave a low, humorless chuckle. "You weren't forced to ruin her either--but you did. You crossed the line. Now you answer for it."

He returned to his seat behind the desk, folding his sleeves neatly.

"You have three days, Jinyan. Choose: claim her, or let her be claimed."

He looked up once more, his voice final.

"Dismissed."

Lanling Palace -- Prince's Private Chambers, Late Night

The heavy doors groaned open as Li Jinyan stepped inside, tension rolling off him like smoke from a battlefield. His inner robe clung to his shoulders, damp from the lingering steam of the baths and the memory of his father's voice still echoing in his head.

The scent of sandalwood still clung to him. So did wax. Oil. Her.

He stopped dead at the sight of the figure by the hearth.

Zixin sat comfortably in one of the cushioned chairs, thick arms stretched lazily along the sides, a cup of wine balanced in one hand. The firelight danced off the carved lines of his heavy jaw and the glint of muscle beneath his robe.

He looked perfectly relaxed. Too relaxed.

"Big Brother," Zixin said, voice smooth as oiled leather. "You missed dinner. I was beginning to worry."

Li didn't move. "You're in my chambers."

Zixin raised his cup in a mock toast. "And you're welcome. I've warmed the seat for you."

Li shut the door quietly behind him, each motion controlled. He said nothing.

Zixin took a sip of wine, watching him over the rim. "Did Father enjoy your explanation? Or was he too busy making arrangements for your next lesson in responsibility?"

Li didn't respond.

Zixin's eyes glinted. "I heard she crawled. That true?" A pause. "You've always had a gift for getting people to kneel."

Li peeled off his robe and set it aside without a glance. "Why are you here."

"To offer my support, of course," Zixin said, setting the cup down and standing with a slow stretch that pulled the fabric tight across his broad chest. "You've got three days, don't you? Three days to decide if you want to claim a whore."

Li's eyes flashed once--sharp, dangerous.

Zixin smiled. "Don't worry. I'd never touch her. Father wouldn't allow it. But others might. You'd be amazed how quickly a jewel loses its shine once passed around the court."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping low, almost affectionate. "Would be a shame, wouldn't it? To let her rot while you sit here pretending you're not already obsessed."

Li didn't flinch. He just stared.

And Zixin, as always, smiled wider.

"I'll be watching, Gege."

Then he turned and walked out, his footfalls silent for someone so heavy--leaving Li alone, the fire snapping behind him, and the weight of blood thicker than ever in the air.

Red Lantern Pavilion -- Yuan Fei's Private Room, Morning Light

The screens had been drawn closed, but the filtered light through gauze silk made the room glow faintly gold. Yuan Fei sat on the edge of her lacquered daybed, freshly bathed, her skin still pink from the scrubbing Wukong insisted on.

Her body ached.

And not from regret.

The door slid open.

She didn't need to look to know who it was.

Mèng Yao swept into the room like a tide coming in--slow, inevitable, and heavy with judgment. She wore crimson today, her hair bound with iron pins, and her expression carved from polished stone.

She closed the door behind her herself.

"You look rested," she said without warmth.

Yuan Fei kept her eyes low. "I am, Mistress."

Silence.

Then the rustle of silk as Mèng Yao stepped closer, eyes flicking over her skin. Her gaze caught on the faint bruising at Yuan's hips, the subtle welts that hadn't fully faded.

"You let him leave you like that," Mèng Yao said. Her voice didn't rise--but the temperature in the room dropped.

Yuan Fei swallowed. "He didn't leave me. He--"

"He walked out." Mèng Yao cut her off. "Left you blindfolded, dripping, half-unconscious, on the floor. My best girl. My only untouchable." Her lip curled slightly. "And now you're just another one who'll need a painted veil and long sleeves to hide the bruises."

"I wanted it."

That brought Mèng Yao up short.

Yuan Fei looked up, finally, and her voice was steady.

"I wanted him. I always have."

Mèng Yao's eyes narrowed, but she didn't speak.

"I gave him what no one else was allowed to take," Yuan continued, "because he didn't ask me to play a role. He didn't need me to pretend. He saw what I was."

Mèng Yao crossed her arms. "And what are you now, girl? Free? You think because a prince spilled himself on your back, you belong to something other than this house?"

Yuan Fei flinched--but nodded.

"I still belong to you, Mistress. I know that. I owe you my life. But I won't apologize for wanting more."

That cracked something.

Mèng Yao stared at her for a long, brittle moment, then turned to pace the room, fury held tight under her skin.

"I raised you," she said, voice sharp. "From gutters and lice to silk and pipa strings. I turned you into art. Into something men paid fortunes just to look at."

"I know."

"And now I have to send away generals who ask for your company," she hissed, "because I can't offer damaged goods."

Yuan Fei stood, slow but steady. "Then don't offer me at all."

That stopped her cold.

"Excuse me?"

"Wait until he comes for me," Yuan said softly. "Because he will."

Mèng Yao stared. "And if he doesn't?"

Yuan's jaw set. "Then I'll go to the highest bidder with your blessing. And I'll never think of him again."

The silence stretched.

Finally, Mèng Yao exhaled, long and bitter.

"You have until the full moon."

Then, quieter, almost grudging:

"I pray he's worth everything I made you."

She left without another word.

Lanling Palace -- The Imperial Court Antechamber, Noon

The room was quiet but tense--thick with the scent of pressed parchment and old incense, a sacred stillness reserved only for those who stood one breath away from the emperor himself.

Zixin did not wait for permission.

He strode past the court attendants and through the carved wooden doors, brushing aside the eunuch who moved to protest.

Emperor Fu Yìchén stood near the window, hands clasped loosely behind his back, gazing at the gardens below. He did not turn when Zixin entered.

"You're bold today," the emperor said mildly.

Zixin bowed low, but not humbly.

"I come with a request," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "About the girl. Yuan Fei."

Fu Yìchén's hands tightened slightly behind him.

"She is not a matter for you," he said.

Zixin raised his head. "And yet she's caused more disruption in this palace than half the court's spies. If she's truly this important--shouldn't she be secured by someone who knows how to use her properly?"

Fu Yìchén turned then, eyes sharp, unreadable.

"You mean by you?"

"I mean by someone who won't treat her like a toy and abandon her when the thrill fades," Zixin said, with a smile too perfect to be sincere. "Someone who understands power isn't about indulgence, but restraint."

He stepped closer, his posture that of a man offering a solution, not a demand.

"Let me take her," Zixin said. "As my companion. My claim would elevate her. Solidify her loyalty. And it would send a clear message--to the court, to the Pavilion, and to my brother."

Fu Yìchén's gaze did not soften.

"You've never shown interest in her before."

"She was off-limits before," Zixin said simply. "Now she's damaged."

That earned him a flicker of disdain.

"And yet," he added smoothly, "I see her value. Where others might only see scandal."

The emperor was silent for a long moment.

Then he turned back to the window.

"You may make your intentions known to the Pavilion."

Zixin smiled.

"But I will not force her," Fu Yìchén added sharply. "If she chooses you, it will be her decision."

Zixin's jaw tightened for just a breath.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "That's only fair."

He bowed again--low and deep.

Then left, his mind already working through what needed to be said, offered, or threatened to make her choose him instead.

Red Lantern Pavilion -- Inner Courtyard, Dusk

The brothel's inner court was not made for men like Zixin. It was a place of candlelight and carved screens, where music floated like perfume and whispers carried further than footfalls. The air was heavy with camellia and old secrets.

But tonight, the shadows shifted.

Zixin arrived flanked by two guards in quiet armor, though he left them at the gate. He didn't need muscle here--just presence. Broad-shouldered in a bronze-lined black robe, he walked like a man born to tread marble halls and crush something soft underfoot.

The attendants didn't greet him. They simply vanished.

A servant led him in silence through winding halls, past fluttering silk curtains and doorways where no one dared peek. When they reached the reception hall, Zixin stepped inside alone.

The room was spacious but quiet, lined with muted tapestries and low golden light. A small brazier burned in the corner--amber, cinnamon, and sandalwood curling from it.

And at its center, waiting behind a carved redwood table, sat Madame Mèng Yao.

She did not stand.

She did not bow.

She simply gestured to the cushion across from her with two fingers.

"Prince Zixin," she said, voice smooth and sharp as lacquered steel. "This is a house of manners. Remove your boots."

Zixin raised a brow, but said nothing. He untied the laces at his ankles and stepped barefoot onto the woven mat. Every movement slow. Deliberate. Calculated.

He sat.

Mèng Yao poured only her own tea.

No small talk.

No offering of drink.

No fanfare.

Only quiet.

Then: "You're here for her."

It wasn't a question.

Zixin's smile curled just slightly. "I came to offer her something lasting."

Mèng Yao's eyes didn't blink. "That's not the story making its rounds in court."

Zixin folded his hands. "The court is fond of stories. I'm more interested in outcomes."

"And you think the outcome should be you?"

"She's been... compromised," he said, tone too smooth to be mistaken for anything but a blade in velvet. "My brother's mistake doesn't have to ruin her. I can give her name, place, protection."

"Ownership," Mèng Yao said.

"Security," Zixin corrected.

They stared at each other.

Then Mèng Yao leaned forward, her voice quieter--but colder.

"She's not yours to save. She's not a token to redeem your jealousy. And she sure as hell is not your weapon."

Zixin tilted his head slightly. "So you won't let me speak to her?"

"I didn't say that."

She stood, sleeves whispering against her sides like restrained fury.

"You'll speak to her. In my house. Under my roof. With me in the next room. And if your hand so much as twitches toward her, you'll leave with fewer fingers than you came in with."

Zixin smiled, all charm, all rot beneath.

"I wouldn't dare insult you, Mistress."

"No," Mèng Yao said. "But you're planning to insult her."

She turned on her heel.

"I'll tell her you've come."

And the silk curtain fell between them like the edge of a guillotine.

Red Lantern Pavilion -- Private Wing, Late Evening

The halls near Yuan Fei's quarters were dimly lit, quiet except for the soft flicker of lanterns and the occasional whisper of fabric from passing attendants. Most of the Pavilion had settled into its nightly rhythm--music, laughter, murmured moans from behind silk screens.

But not here.

Zixin's footsteps were heavy and deliberate as he stalked through the corridor, still wearing his boots, still leaving faint trails of dirt on Mèng Yao's pristine floors. He didn't care.

He wasn't here to be polite.

He stopped outside Yuan Fei's door. It was unmarked, but he knew. He could feel it--something in the air, like a scent he remembered from incense and sweat and punishment.

He raised his hand to knock.

Then didn't.

Instead, he pushed.

The latch gave slightly--but only slightly. Locked.

He smiled.

"Fei," he said through the door, voice calm. Pleasant, even. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"

Silence.

"I offered you more than a role. More than a prince who left you on the floor."

Still nothing.

His voice dropped, colder. "Don't make me come in there."

He stepped back.

Then lunged forward with one heavy boot.

The door shuddered--but did not break.

Before he could strike again, a hand closed around his wrist.

He turned.

Mèng Yao.

Her expression was serene. But her eyes blazed.

Behind her, two guards moved into position, hands on their blades.

"You're trespassing now," she said quietly.

Zixin didn't let go of the door.

"I'm claiming what your girl won't give up."

Mèng Yao's voice didn't rise.

"You take one more step, and I'll have your teeth fed to your brother's horse."

They stared at each other.

No movement.

No sound but the flutter of a curtain in the distant breeze.

Then slowly--deliberately--Zixin let go of the door.

He smiled.

"I'll see her another time."

"You won't."

He turned, walking past the guards without flinching, leaving his trail of dirt behind him like a shadow.

Lanling Palace -- Jinyan's Study, Just Before Midnight

The lanternlight burned low. A single candle flickered on his desk, casting long shadows across scrolls he hadn't read, reports he hadn't signed.

Li Jinyan sat perfectly still, one hand curled beneath his chin, eyes distant. He hadn't touched the wine at his elbow. He hadn't moved in some time.

The knock came softly--just once.

"Enter," he said.

A palace eunuch bowed deeply as he stepped inside, thin and breathless.

"Your Highness... I bring word from the Pavilion."

Jinyan's gaze sharpened. "Speak."

"There was... a disturbance. Tonight."

The eunuch swallowed. "Your brother, Prince Zixin, forced his way into the private wing. He attempted entry into the quarters of Lady Yuan Fei."

Jinyan didn't move, but the air in the room shifted.

"She is unharmed," the eunuch added quickly. "Madame Mèng Yao intervened personally. He was stopped. No blood spilled."

Silence.

Jinyan exhaled slowly, eyes returning to the untouched candlelight.

"Leave me."

The eunuch bowed and retreated without another word.

When the door shut, Jinyan leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the lacquered wood behind him. His jaw flexed once.

Zixin was bold. Too bold.

But not wrong.

Yuan Fei had no name. No lineage. No contract that couldn't be rewritten. To claim her publicly would not be seen as romantic--it would be seen as weakness. A future emperor tangled by a brothel girl with bruises on her throat and no ancestors in the records.

And yet...

She hadn't begged him to stop. She had begged him to keep going.

He closed his eyes, jaw tightening.

What are you to me, little flame? A stain--or something I can't bear to see held by anyone else?

Still, he didn't rise.

Not yet.

Lanling Palace -- Li Jinyan's Private Quarters, Pre-Dawn

The room was too still.

Too warm.

Too cold.

Too empty.

Li Jinyan lay atop his bed, eyes wide open, the silk sheets twisted around his legs like the remnants of some forgotten battle. His breathing was shallow, his body slick with sweat, but not from heat.

From her.

The scent hadn't left him. That faint trace of jasmine and camellia still clung to his skin, sunk into his pores, hidden in the hollows of his throat.

Yuan Fei.

In sleep, she came to him--naked, bound, pliant beneath his hand. Sometimes whispering, sometimes laughing. Sometimes weeping. And sometimes not Yuan at all. Someone imagined--created just to torment him.

She begged him in dreams.

Not for mercy.

For more.

He sat up suddenly, heart pounding, vision darkening at the edges.

He pressed his palms to his face, dragging them down slowly.

"She's no one," he whispered to himself.

But his body knew better.

So did the ache in his chest.

He stood and dressed in silence--black robes, no armor. No guards. No crest. Just him. Just the man, not the prince.

By the time the palace courtyard began to pale with the first blush of sunrise, his horse was already saddled.

And when the gate guards blinked in confusion at his approach, he said only one word:

"Open."

They obeyed.

Red Lantern Pavilion -- Just After Dawn

The streets were empty save for mist and the soft clatter of his horse's hooves. The Pavilion stood quiet but not asleep, its crimson lanterns flickering low, like coals banked through the night.

He dismounted and approached the gate alone.

No fanfare. No announcement.

Only the scent of camellia thickening in the air--or was that just her again, burned into him?

He raised his hand to knock--

But stopped.

His fingers curled into a fist against the wooden door.

He did not know if he was here to claim her--

--or beg her to break him again.

Red Lantern Pavilion -- Front Hall, Just After Dawn

The latch lifted before he could knock.

Of course it did.

Mèng Yao stood there, already dressed in midnight silk, her eyes sharp despite the early hour. She studied him like a mother fox might study a wolf too close to her den--not fearful, but fully aware of every way the situation could turn bloody.

"Twice in one week," she said, voice low and dry. "Should I be flattered or alarmed?"

Li didn't answer at first.

His eyes swept past her to the hall beyond, but he didn't push. Didn't demand. He stood at the threshold, unsmiling, the lines beneath his eyes deeper than she remembered.

 

"I'm not here for her," he said finally. "Not for her body."

Mèng Yao raised a brow. "That would be a first for you."

His gaze flicked to hers, tired but steady. "I need to speak to her. Alone."

Silence.

She didn't step aside. Not yet.

"She's not some shrine you visit when the ghosts get too loud, Your Highness," Mèng Yao said. "She's not waiting to forgive you. Or save you."

"I know."

His voice was quiet. Heavy.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he said. "I just want to see her."

A beat.

Then another.

And then, with a slight tilt of her head, Mèng Yao stepped back.

"She's in her room," she said. "She hasn't taken clients. Not since you."

Li nodded once.

As he passed, Mèng Yao added softly--so low it nearly vanished into the hush of dawn:

"If you hurt her again... it won't be Yuan Fei who bleeds first."

He paused.

"I know."

And then he disappeared down the corridor, toward the room that was saturated in her scent.

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