Xuanping Marquis’ Mansion, old Marquis’ birthday celebration.
The old marquis is now in his seventies, with gray hair on his temples. After drinking for more than half a decade, he only knows how to look at the guests with a smile, and his words are incoherent.
Prince Ping Chen has never liked socializing, and his alcohol tolerance is not good. However, the head of today's banquet is this founding hero. The old marquis has devoted his entire life to the country and the people, so he has to respect him.
So he took two steps forward, raised his wine cup, and nodded slightly toward the person at the top of the table. Everyone at the banquet knew that he was a mute, so even though he didn't have to say any congratulatory words, no one dared to criticize him at the table.
Unexpectedly, the old marquis at the top suddenly murmured something, and then trotted all the way to Chen Que. When he raised his eyes again, he was already in tears. The old marquis grabbed his hand and said, "Zhen Ge'er, Zhen Ge'er! Why haven't you come for a long time?"
Shen was slightly stunned. The "Zhen Ge'er" he mentioned was clearly the nickname of the late emperor. The next moment, several of the old marquis's children surrounded him and tried to pull the excited old marquis back.
"My father is now old, his spirit is declining, his mind is dispirited, and he is forgetful. He sometimes speaks incoherently," the eldest son stepped forward apologetically and defended his father. "I did not mean to offend you. I hope Your Highness will forgive me."
Shen waved his hand. He knew that the old marquis was suffering from dementia and was often awake and dreaming. He was really pitiful, so he didn't care.
The prince was not young anymore, with black hair mixed with gray, and sagging eyes. He looked even more tired than the old marquis. Seeing that he didn't care, he bowed and said, "Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness."
Immediately afterwards, Shen Que was invited back to the banquet by the clan leader and the servants.
After enjoying this farce, someone at the opposite table raised his glass and smiled as he whispered to the person sitting next to him: "I've often heard that His Highness Prince Ping has a face that looks very much like the late emperor. Now it seems that it's not just a rumor."
The other man also laughed, his eyes slightly glancing at the seated Shen Que: "What's the use of just having similar looks? Let's not talk about whether he is favored or not, just the muteness of this prince means that he is doomed to have difficulty in inheriting the throne. If the saint really has intentions, he would not grant him a title and fiefdom as soon as he comes of age, and hastily send him out of the capital."
"But it's strange. Logically, the title should be given with the word 'Ping', but the person is placed next to him. What's the meaning of this?"
Yingchuan is a good place. Not only is it adjacent to the capital, but it has also produced many famous people since ancient times. It is a prosperous county. If it were based on the word "peaceful", this unpopular prince should be sent to a remote prefecture.
However, Prince Ping had been mediocre since childhood and had never stood out. He was not fond of forming cliques or factions, and he didn't even have any close princes. People really couldn't see how he could have any intention of seizing the throne.
"Hey, I heard that the governor stuffed a lot of dancers and beautiful maids into Prince Ping's mansion a few days ago, but Prince Ping refused to accept them. He is so pedantic," the man continued. "People say that he is really noble, but I don't think so. Who knows, maybe the rumors are true..."
The governor of Yingchuan is a member of the prince's party. The one in the East Palace now shares equal power with the Sixth Prince in the court. If Shen Que's fiefdom was not Yingchuan, it would not matter whether he took sides or not, but it was he who occupied this precious land.
The man next to him put down his wine glass. He had also heard the so-called wild rumors, which were nothing more than crude speculations that the Ninth Prince was a eunuch and had that thing growing out of nowhere.
"Whether it's true or not is not the most important thing. But it's not wise to pretend to be innocent and refuse to choose the right path at this moment..."
As they were talking, Prince Ping Chen at the opposite table was persuaded to drink a few more glasses of wine. After a series of polite remarks, Chen always gave a perfunctory smile, then raised his hand with a slightly tired look, and his long-serving attendant beside him quickly translated what he wanted to say.
Halfway through the birthday banquet, Shen suddenly felt his heart beating wildly and he had some symptoms of chest tightness and shortness of breath. He thought he was drunk, so he stood up and left the table, saying that he wanted to go to the side room to change his clothes.
Seeing this, several servants rushed forward and led Shen Que out: "Your Highness, the wing room is over there."
Shen waved his hand and asked them to leave: "I am going to the garden to get some fresh air. You don't need to follow me."
But he forgot that these servants could not read his sign language, and his long-servant was nowhere to be found, and he felt more and more uncomfortable. Only then did Shen realize that the wine he had just drunk must have been spiked with something, and these servants might have been bribed.
Several servants hugged him tightly and half-forced and half-coerced him to the side room.
At this moment, a servant in brown clothes and shorts suddenly blocked their way. The leading servant looked him up and down and saw that he had a badge of Prince Ping's Palace on his waist. With such simple attire, he should be the coachman who came with them.
"Your Highness," the man nodded and said straight to the point, "My wife has had a relapse of her old illness, and she sent a message asking you to return home."
Chen Que was feeling very dizzy at the moment, and he lowered his hand that was supporting his forehead, and gestured slowly: "Did you ask the doctor to see you?"
He didn't realize that the man in front of him was just the lowest-ranking slave in the outer mansion and shouldn't be able to understand his sign language.
"I don't know," the groom lowered his eyes and answered fluently, "but the mistress is ill and has been calling for Your Highness in her heart. I'm afraid it's not good. Your Highness, please come back with me."
Seeing that the pigeon was about to fly away, the servants who had benefited from it were unwilling to let him go easily. They hurriedly advised: "Your Highness Prince Ping is drunk. He should go to the side room to rest first."
Shen Que's body was completely limp at this moment. He struggled to take a few steps forward and fell into the groom's arms. Xie Shiguan naturally tightened his waist and said, "Don't worry, the palace's carriage is still parked in the front yard. I will take His Highness back home."
As he spoke, his brows curved slightly, and the bright light from the lanterns held by the servants reflected in his eyes, lighting up that eerie amber light.
The servants wanted to persuade them to stay, but the groom said, "If the mistress can't wait for His Highness, I'm afraid we'll have to ask the senior officials to come and look for him. I'm afraid the senior officials will punish me for my poor performance. Please forgive me."
The chief official of the palace is an official appointed by the saint himself. He has a certain rank and authority and is a powerful figure. If they are still confused and want to force the person to stay, they will probably be caught by that lord.
After weighing the pros and cons, the servants had no choice but to let him carry the person away.
It was not until the figure of the groom, His Royal Highness Prince Heping, disappeared into the darkness that the leading servant woke up from his daze and asked in a low voice, "Look at his attire, he is clearly a driver from the outer palace, a lowly slave, how could he be born like that?"
Even through layers of clothing, Xie Shiguan could feel that the person on his back was very hot, and even the breath against his ear was scorching.
He deliberately drove the carriage along a side road and stopped it in a secluded place. When he reached into the carriage again, the man inside was so hot that he was unconscious.
Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were blurry, and even her clothes were in disarray.
Xie Shiguan hung the lantern in his hand on the corner, then knelt down, and slowly reached into his clothes with his cold fingers: "Do you still remember who I am, Your Highness?"
He deliberately lowered the tone of the last two words, as if he was chewing and grinding them slowly between his lips and teeth.
Shen did not answer, the last bit of his sanity led him to raise his hand: "Get out!"
"Your Highness, are you going to endure this?" The lowly groom laughed and leaned over, using his knees to push apart his weakened legs, crushing the overflowing passion and the unspeakable wetness underneath. "If you go back like this, everyone will see this unbearable official."
"What should I do?"
Guan'er was Shen Que's childhood nickname. Except for the saint and his late mother, no one dared to call him that, not to mention that the man in front of him was just a lowly groom.
Shen Que couldn't stand such an insult, but he couldn't make a sound. At this moment, the aphrodisiac he accidentally drank happened to take effect. His whole body was limp, and even if he tried his best, he couldn't break free from the man's shackles.
As he was speaking, Xie Shiguan continued to move forward and tore open the petticoat under his robe with one hand.
He suddenly felt a chill under his body, but Shen was slow to react. By the time he reacted, it was too late to cover himself.
"How dare you!" There was murderous intent in his eyes, but when he raised his hand, his movements were soft and there was no deterrent effect at all.
After seeing it clearly, the groom was speechless for a moment, but he still admired it for a while, then smiled meaningfully: "You..."
"That's quite flattering of you."
Shen's face turned red. The unspeakable secret was exposed in front of a slave. He hated him so much that he wanted to kill him immediately, but at the same time, the burning and thirst in his body had pushed him to the point of collapse.
Xie Shiguan caught a glimpse of the tear that squeezed out of the corner of his eye. It was like a fragile and bright piece of glass. He was attracted by that touch of beauty and couldn't help but lean over and kiss it.
"It will be a little painful," Shen heard him say, "Your Highness, please don't blame me."
Xie Shiguan carefully savored the fear, humiliation, struggle and pain in his eyes. Every look and movement of the mute in front of him made him feel joy, a twisted joy.
He couldn't quite remember when he fell in love with this mute, perhaps it was in the early spring three years ago.
In February, when the grass is green and the birds are singing, there is golden sunlight that is neither too warm nor too cold, and the ground is covered with green grass and wild flowers as big as fingertips.
At that time, a young man of seventeen went for an outing in the suburbs. He was wearing a light yellow robe that was neither too thin nor too thick, and a water-colored gauze covering his face. When he looked back in response, the tassels on his shoulders trembled.
Xie Shiguan remembered the prince's smile, his bright black eyes slightly curved, and a faint dimple on his cheek, like the ripples of dew on the tips of willow leaves on the river bank. It is still imprinted in his heart, becoming a fleeting touch of spring.
Unfortunately, his prince was not sociable and stayed at home all day long in the inner palace, and he was only the lowest-ranking slave in Prince Ping's palace. He could see his prince only a few times a year, and even if he did, he would just glance at him from a distance.
Besides, he was not the only coachman like him in the outer palace, and he could not always take his turn to drive the horse for Shen Que.
He yearned for it day and night, but he could not even touch or feel a single finger of Shenque.
“Why don’t you listen?” Xie Shiguan held his hands, which were resisting stubbornly, behind his back, and murmured in a sick and crazy voice, “I’m here to save you, Your Highness.”
The author has something to say:
My two nieces are coming tomorrow, so I have to hide away and write.
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