9 Too Soft

A gentleman's sword. A trending fashion among the literati masses of the capital, because the sword was a symbol of power and respect. Among the educated circles, like poets and scholars, swords also had another name: 'Three Feet of Autumn Water'. Swords were a beautiful representation of the fair and just, and hence, was an appropriate ornament for a gentleman.

A gentleman. A man of noble bearing. But at some point in history, this description had seemed to change in its meaning to become merely 'a nobleman'. There was a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless. A nobleman didn't have to carry himself nobly, didn't have to treat those he deemed beneath him righteously. Nobleman just meant a class, a rank, and one that had power.

Wu Bin was speaking, but Yan Zheyun couldn't hear him over the tinnitus in his ears. Cold sweat trickled down his spine as he stared at the puddle of dark red blood pooling slowly on the floor beneath Wu Zhi's body.

The other servants had already fallen to their knees. Yan Zheyun tried to follow suit but his legs wouldn't obey him. They felt shaky but refused to move the way he wanted them to.

Wu Bin noticed his strange behaviour.

"Yun Er, what's wrong? You silly rabbit, there's nothing to be scared about, he won't bother you anymore."

He turned to Yan Zheyun with loving concern in his gaze, but all Yan Zheyun could see was a monster.

Yan Zheyun was a logical man. When he'd first woken up in this strange ancient land, he had deduced that there would be differences between the laws of the modern world and this conservative feudal society. But knowing this was one thing. Actually seeing a man get killed right in front of his eyes was another.

Nobility. The gentry and the royalty. These were the classes of people who could literally get away with murder, as long as the person who died wasn't also of noble status.

A slave? That was nothing in the eyes of the law. Once they reached a certain age, they didn't even amount to the cost of healthy cattle. Wu Zhi might have been disgusting, but from where Yan Zheyun grew up, he'd deserved a trial at court for sexual harassment. He didn't deserve to die like a hunted animal, wide-eyed in shock and with his mouth gaping.

"You killed him," Yan Zheyun said softly. He was so dazed that he forgot to use the appropriate honorifics to address Wu Bin. But luckily, Wu Bin didn't mind. Preferred it even.

"Of course I did," he said like it was something to be proud of. A peacock displaying his feathers for the mate he was wooing. He reached out to stroke a finger against Yan Zheyun's cheek. "Yun Er, I can protect you, so come back with me? I don't know what my mother said to you but you'll be safe with me, all right? Your big brother won't let anyone harm you."

Such pretty lies. But Yan Zheyun didn't buy it. He had the advantage of foresight, had an inkling of how the novel progressed. He knew what Wu Bin was going to do to him in the future. He'd already done it to Yan Yun in the book that Yan Lixin had read, and Yan Yun had been broken to irreparable pieces.

There was something wrong with Wu Bin today. Given his personality, there was no way he would be this ostentatious. Even though the law would close an eye to an aristocrat killing his own slave, it didn't mean that society wouldn't frown upon the behaviour. For someone who protected his image almost zealously, Wu Bin shouldn't have acted like that. He also shouldn't have declared Yan Zheyun as his possession or murmured sweet nothings at Yan Zheyun in front of the other servants.

Why was he acting like that? Was it because he could sense Yan Zheyun trying to escape from his clutches? Or had Liang Hui said something to trigger him?

Yan Zheyun suddenly felt very tired. Wrangling with his corporate opponents over a deal felt like child's play compared to this.

He let Wu Bin lead him away from the kitchens, still affectionately nagging at Yan Zheyun as he went.

"I don't know why you're being so silly, Yun Er, my mother said you were very mature and knew how to do the right thing. But how is running away to the kitchens the right thing? You've only put yourself in danger." Wu Bin wrapped an arm around Yan Zheyun's shoulders, completely disregarding the shocked expressions of the other inhabitants of the house.

"What is Big Young Master doing?"

"Isn't he afraid that word would get out that he's keeping a male pet? What if the general's family hears of it and rejects the match?"

"Aiya, it's just for fun, no one will mind, which noble young master doesn't have a male favourite or two?"

[I'm not a male pet,] Yan Zheyun wanted to say. [I'm not a male favourite.]

[I'm not a worthless slave.]

His throat was dry. His brain felt as disorientated as it had when he'd first woken up from drowning. For the first time, he found himself wondering if dying of pneumonia would have been a better fate than surviving to be the captive toy of these insane, extreme characters.

Yan Zheyun was struck by the reality of his plight. All this while, he'd arrogantly thought that he'd been adjusting to his new situation. He'd assumed that he was prepared to outsmart everyone. Because at the end of the day, he was only dealing with NPCs, right? And written by an author that had churned out such a brainless plot too. How could they outwit him?

But now, he was starting to realise just how wrong he'd been. It didn't matter that in his world, the Minister of Rites, Wu Bin, and Liang Hui were all just two-dimensional concepts existing on a page. Here, he was in their world and he had to play by their rules.

He could be raped, he could be tortured, he could really be killed. And it would be real.

"My poor Yun Er, still so shocked? You've always been too soft." A hand stroked Yan Zheyun's hair, tugging teasingly on the ponytail.

He willed himself to try and focus, only discovering now that they weren't heading back to Wu Bin's residences. In fact, they were already standing at the entrance of the Wu Estate, with a posh carriage waiting in front of them.

"Young Master?" He frowned in confusion.

Wu Bin smiled. "We're going out, aren't you happy?" He indicated for the stable boy to come forward. A small, scrawny lad ran towards the foot of the carriage and bent over, offering his back up for the passengers to step on.

Yan Zheyun nearly recoiled in horror.

Wu Bin could sense his aversion, because he chuckled and grabbed onto Yan Zheyun's waist, hoisting him into the carriage without touching the boy.

"As I said, you're still so softhearted, Yun Er."

In the past, Yan Zheyun would have scoffed and told him to tell that to the owners of the small companies he'd taken over hostilely. But now, he found it impossible to refute.

[I'm soft,] he agreed inside. [Because no matter how cunning and shrewd I am in my business dealings, I still view humans as my equal. And you don't, but that's okay in your world because you were born into prestige and everyone expects you to make light of others' lives.]

[But from where I come from, do you know what we call that? Young Master Wu, we call that 'evil'.]

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Even though it was already approaching evening, the capital was still bustling with activity. Yan Zheyun looked impassively out past the curtains of the carriage. He tried to distract himself with the foreign sights and sounds like he was on vacation, but it was to no avail.

No matter how interesting and vibrant the place was, he knew that there was a darkness in the very structure of their society.

Faint images from Yan Yun's memories surfaced to the forefront of his mind as the carriage passed shops and gardens. He could pick out Yan Yun's favourite pastry store. He also saw the monastery Wu Bin and Yan Yun had once promised each other that they would go and carve their names in after successfully passing the imperial examinations. Yan Zheyun wondered if Wu Bin had gone alone last year. He didn't think so.

Scumbag. Wu Bin was a real scumbag. And if Yan Zheyun didn't buck up, he might end up stuck in his cage forever.

"Young Master," he said, speaking for the first time since they'd started the journey. "Where are we going? This servant is no longer your attendant, Madam would be displeased that I have left my station without permission."

Wu Bin stiffened up at the mention of his mother, but he didn't lose his temper at Yan Zheyun. "I have a day of rest coming up soon, and was planning on taking you out then," he said evenly. "But then I recalled that the spice merchants from the deserts are only in town until tomorrow. You like visiting their bazaar, remember? I thought that we could have a meal together first before going for a walk in one of the night markets."

Yan Zheyun remembered. Yan Yun had loved the different colours of the spices, shaped like inverted cones in their wooden bowls. The reds, creams, and yellows had reminded him of autumn.

It was kind of Wu Bin to remember too. Thoughtful even. No wonder Yan Yun had been unable to stop himself from falling in love. But Yan Yun hadn't known that it was all just a subtle form of manipulation. He'd trusted his Big Brother Wu too much to even doubt his character for one second.

And what had Wu Bin done? He'd fucked Yan Yun, gotten bored, married a woman, and then gift-wrapped the poor boy up for the crown prince's bed. Just to exchange for the promotion he'd yearned for so badly.

A gust of wind blew into the carriage, sending the gauzy drapes billowing across Yan Zheyun's face. It lent him an aura of mysterious allure— Wu Bin's eyes greedily drank in the sight— but also concealed how icy Yan Zheyun's gaze had become.

The carriage came to a stop outside an elegant multi-storied building. There was a small pond in front of its entrance, with a delicate wooden bridge arching over it. Yan Zheyun could see the flashing glimmer of oranges and golds from the scales of the carp as they swam languidly in the water. In contrast to the lively red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the other surrounding buildings, the ones here were a pale cream instead. They were also painted with all sorts of spring flowers. The faint notes from a zither floated out through an open window, lending a genteel air to an already elegant place.

Despite Yan Zheyun's terrible mood, he couldn't help but have a good impression of it. Something about its atmosphere set him at ease.

The horizontal inscribed board hanging over the magnificent doorway read 'Meiyue Tower'. The tower of the waxing crescent moon. The calligraphy of the words was the only detail that sat at odds with the simple refinement of the building. The bold and vivacious cursive strokes were a reflection of their writer's unbridled, carefree spirit.

Because of his parents' attempt at raising cultured children, Yan Zheyun had learnt the guqin since young, along with calligraphy and traditional watercolour painting. His siblings had been put through the same ordeal, except Lixin had insisted on playing the guzheng instead because then at least she didn't have to keep different nail lengths.

The only art that Yan Zheyun had really appreciated had been that of calligraphy. He'd been good at it too, almost natural, and had won multiple competitions in his childhood. And now, with Yan Yun's memories, he could write in even more styles. His appreciation for it had only grown.

But today, he couldn't focus on the beauty of the inscription board. His heartbeat had picked up upon the realisation that he was at Meiyue Tower. Thanks to his little sister's insider info, he was probably one of a handful of people who knew that this popular elite inn was the private asset of the emperor.

Designed for utmost privacy, there were only private dining rooms inside, with winding hallways and secret passages. This was to ensure that distinguished guests, who didn't want to bump into a familiar face, could come and go undisturbed.

These guests liked the place because it protected their peace. Yan Zheyun liked the place because it presented him with a new, daring opportunity.

If ever he was going to have a chance to run, this was it.