Chapter 54 — A Guest in a Dream
The three troublemakers never expected a customer in the shop to suddenly speak up. The one being lifted, nicknamed Huang Laizi, was already dazed from a few slaps. With a tearful face, he begged for mercy:
“Spare me, brave men! I… I just thought there was something wrong with the dish…”
If he had kept quiet, it might have been fine. But once he spoke, the man’s anger flared even more.
“Nonsense! Look carefully!”
He grabbed Huang Laizi by the collar, pressing him down to examine the pot of braised wild rabbit. But because he was drunk, his strength was uneven, and he accidentally pressed half of Huang Laizi’s face into the dish. When lifted again for questioning, half of his face and collar were smeared with the oily sauce. Nodding rapidly, Huang Laizi stammered, “I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it—it’s fine!”
The burly men finally released him. One smacked him on the head, twisting his face, shouting, “Don’t blabber nonsense!”
Another immediately intervened. “Hey, stop! Is this the place for a fight?”
Grandma Kou’s small restaurant had only two main rooms. If a fight broke out, they’d probably destroy the whole place.
The other tattooed men apparently realized this too and nodded in agreement.
The three rogues became even more panicked. The words and demeanor of these men were clearly off—could it be that even this inconspicuous little restaurant had someone backing it?
Huang Laizi, though disheveled, was quick-witted. He thought of several gang names, his eyes catching the blue dragon tattoo on the man’s arm. His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly remembered the gang currently fighting over territories most fiercely. He only wanted a free rabbit—would these big brothers really cut off his fingers?
Huang Laizi felt increasingly unfairly treated. Hastily, he pulled out his coin pouch.
“B-Big brothers, I didn’t recognize a true giant. These…”
The guards looked displeased. “What do you mean by that?”
Huang Laizi recalled some gang rules—he couldn’t just offer tribute directly—so he quickly stuffed the money back into his pouch, stiffening his neck:
“Nothing, it was just a joke earlier.”
The guards sneered: “You mean the rabbit or us?”
Huang Laizi clasped his hands in a traditional salute, then made a thumbs-up, thumbs-down gesture he had seen before, worried they might be too drunk to notice. He waved it forward, shook his thumbs, face full of expectation.
The guards stared. They had never seen anyone so audacious.
Inside the shop, they couldn’t fight, but outside was fair game.
Exchanging glances, they draped their arms over the three troublemakers’ shoulders.
“Interesting gesture. Come on, let’s chat outside.”
Huang Laizi happily followed them, adjusting his silk robe and winking at his two companions.
The other two, equally foolish, didn’t need persuasion and blindly followed into the alley outside.
The thick curtain of the restaurant fell with a “thud,” separating the interior from the wind and snow outside.
Quiet reigned for a while.
The commotion had been too brief to alarm Grandma Kou, who was still frying fish for Xie Jing’s senior brothers in the kitchen. The sizzling oil drowned out all outside noise.
Li Yuan tidied the tables where Huang Laizi and the others had sat, occasionally glancing at the door.
Not long after, someone returned.
It was one of Xie Jing’s senior brothers. He first handed Li Yuan a small handful of silver coins—five or six pieces—which startled Li Yuan. He initially refused, but the senior brother pressed them into his hands with a smile:
“Take it. That was the payment for the troublemakers’ meal. I had a ‘chat’ with them—they admitted their fault and promised not to cause trouble again. Consider this compensation.”
Li Yuan protested: “This is too much.”
“Oh, they said to settle the cost for our table as well. Very hospitable.”
Li Yuan hesitated, thinking it generous. The senior brother waved him off:
“We’re all family here, no need to be polite. By the way, Grandma didn’t hear any of this, right? Don’t tell her. She’s old—let her worry less. We can handle this ourselves.”
Seeing this, Li Yuan had no choice but to accept the money.
The sum was significant, and the matter slightly complicated. That evening, Li Yuan packed the coins into a small cloth bag and went to find Xie Jing.
Xie Jing was on night duty, warming himself in the tea room after patrolling with his team. Seeing Li Yuan arrive, he immediately came out to meet him.
Li Yuan, wearing a thick gray-blue cotton coat and an ear-covering hat, ran over excitedly.
“Xie Jing!”
Xie Jing hurried over, asking: “Why the sudden visit? Did something happen to Grandma?”
Li Yuan shook his head, handing him the small bag. In a low voice, he recounted the day’s events and added worriedly:
“Perhaps we should hire another helper. I’ll work for just one coin. Someone stronger. Today we were lucky the guards were there; I worry about future incidents.”
Xie Jing weighed the bag and asked: “Did Grandma know?”
Li Yuan shook his head: “I didn’t tell her. The senior brothers advised not to—so she wouldn’t worry.”
Xie Jing agreed. “You did the right thing. No need to trouble her. I’ll handle it.” He tossed the bag back to Li Yuan and instructed:
“Take the money. Convert it into roasted or braised food—send it occasionally to the guards on night duty. They get drowsy. Send hot soup, but no alcohol.”
Li Yuan nodded and returned with the bag.
Back in the tea room, Xie Jing found Steward Sun waiting.
Sun Fu managed many affairs for Lord Bai Jiu in the East Court. Unlike other stewards, he also ran several shops in the provincial capital for Lord Bai Jiu. A string of copper keys jingled at his waist, giving him full control over the estate’s locks. Lord Bai Jiu called him “steward” rather than “butler” because of his abilities.
“Little Xie, quickly come. Lord Bai Jiu is asking for you.”
Xie Jing followed swiftly, noting the keys jingling at Sun Fu’s waist. He remembered one key for the wood storage—the one he had once pried with a stick to escape—but it was long ago. He remained curious about all the keys.
Sun Fu stopped abruptly. Xie Jing almost bumped into him and quickly stepped back.
Sun Fu smiled: “I wasn’t paying attention. Next time, be careful. No one stays in Lord Bai Jiu’s bedroom at night—the night watch is outside. I can’t go in either. Go on yourself.”
Xie Jing nodded, but still asked, curious: “Uncle Sun, are all these keys real?”
Sun Fu chuckled: “Who told you? There’s no vault. Just the estate’s usual keys. I hang them on me to avoid searching.”
Xie Jing asked: “Any for the wood storage?”
“No, the kitchen handles that. Want one?”
“No, just curious.”
Sun Fu laughed indulgently.
Inside the bedroom, larger and more comfortable than before, Xie Jing felt the thick carpet warm under his bare feet.
Lord Bai Jiu was half-reclined on the bed, reading. Seeing him enter, he beckoned Xie Jing over and flicked his forehead playfully:
“Where have you been playing? Sun Fu searched for you everywhere, scared us both half to death.”
Xie Jing climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged across from him. Instead of answering, he asked: “Lord Bai Jiu, do you know what all those keys are for? There’s really no wood storage key?”
“Wood storage? Certainly not.”
“That’s odd. I saw… I think I saw Sun Fu moving wood himself. The lock was huge.”
Xie Jing demonstrated with gestures and approximate locations. Lord Bai Jiu thought a moment, then chuckled:
“That wasn’t wood storage. That’s precious golden nanmu wood from the south, reserved for furniture. Stored for a year or two to make a complete set.”
He rubbed Xie Jing’s forehead lightly, leaving a faint mark.
“Oh, so it wasn’t wood storage.”
“Of course not. Those are my treasures.”
Xie Jing said nothing, his face heating. He had been locked inside there before. That meant…
Lord Bai Jiu noticed, touching his cheek and earlobe. “Why so warm? Did you catch a chill outside?”
Xie Jing shook his head, lowering his eyes.
To Lord Bai Jiu, he looked like a child afraid to admit a mistake. He couldn’t scold him or say anything, so he rubbed Xie Jing’s head and gave him most of the blanket:
“Warm up a bit.”
Xie Jing wasn’t cold but obeyed. Lord Bai Jiu returned to reading.
Xie Jing, curled under the blanket, whispered:
“Lord Bai Jiu, can I sleep here tonight?”
He nodded: “Yes, after I finish these pages.”
Xie Jing rested his chin on his arm, not asking further, secretly hoping Lord Bai Jiu hadn’t noticed, wanting to stay a few more days. Later, when older, he might find another way onto the bed.
Thoughts during the day became dreams at night.
Xie Jing dreamed of long-past events—when Cao Yunzhao first sent him to the Bai estate. Cao Yunzhao had brought supplies enough for two years.
Standing in the Bai estate’s flower hall, with his luggage behind, Xie Jing looked small.
Whenever Lord Bai Jiu looked at him, he instinctively avoided his gaze, despite being used to performing on stage. Lord Bai Jiu was different—his eyes seemed to strip him bare.
He felt extremely uneasy.
But Lord Bai Jiu was courteous and distant with others. Sometimes Xie Jing wondered if he imagined it.
Lord Bai Jiu had made him sit for meals daily, which he found tasteless. He still thought of Cao Yunzhao, who spent time teaching him drama, giving him confidence.
At the Bai estate, rules were strict. Lord Bai Jiu sometimes taught him to read or had him read newspapers to test his progress. Over time, he became less afraid.
One day, in the study, he accidentally knocked over a vase, getting both his hands and Lord Bai Jiu wet. Flustered, he tried to dry him with his sleeve:
“Master, I’ll get you a new one…”
Lord Bai Jiu’s body was warm, not cold as usual. He held Xie Jing’s hand, moving it down, and asked: “Was this deliberate?”
Xie Jing’s eyes widened. Their gaze met—his eyes darkened. Lord Bai Jiu’s hand pressed against a sensitive place, asking again: “Was this deliberate?”
Xie Jing stiffened, trying to pull away but afraid to hurt him. He heard a muffled sound.
Afterward, he couldn’t resist.
Xie Jing was unwilling but unable to oppose. The study became a tacit place for them.
Lord Bai Jiu called him repeatedly. Xie Jing, initially resisting, gradually became compliant, like a fostered puppy.
With the study door closed, Xie Jing’s eyes still watched, teeth trembling. Lord Bai Jiu’s hand traced his waistline.
“No writing today.”
Xie Jing exhaled in relief, glad not to guess what Lord Bai Jiu wrote with his fingers.
Lord Bai Jiu gave him a sheet to bite, leaning close: “Be good, don’t let go. Today I might lose control.”
In early winter, his fingertips were cool but his palms hot—both cold and hot.
Xie Jing, barely touched, misted up, muffling a sound. Lord Bai Jiu scratched his throat, whispering: “Good child.”
Xie Jing whispered: “Master, I want to go outside, look around.”
“You can have anything else, but not that.”
Though Xie Jing seemed weaker, in the dream he knew Lord Bai Jiu was the one afraid, gripping lightly, fingers white from effort.
Finally, Xie Jing forced himself awake, leaving the intimate dream behind.
Morning had come. The bed was empty and cold; Lord Bai Jiu had been up for a while.
He lay back, sweat beading his forehead, exhaling slowly. After a while, he controlled the morning urge, keeping the sheets clean.
Opening the window, he gazed at the yard and a familiar slender figure, thinking of the past and the present.
So in his last life it started as non-consensual huh… Ugh idk what to feel about this… How old was Xue Jing then? Older than he is now at least right??