Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Shengsheng Zhou patted Weiqing Song’s firm, pale cheek and laughed twice like a villain.
She was no fool.
The man had come to a brothel. How could he possibly have no wicked intentions?
Lecher.
After insulting him several more times, Shengsheng opened the window without hesitation and prepared to jump.
A cold gust made her shrink her neck.
Wasn’t this the third floor?
When Du Sanniang discovered that Xiaohong had escaped, she furiously led several workers upstairs to seize her.
She had known something was wrong. With so many women in her establishment, why had that particular face seemed so unfamiliar?
Yet when Du Sanniang flung open the door, the room was empty.
The escaped Xiaohong and her gentleman customer had both vanished.
Beside the wide-open window, strips torn from every piece of cloth in the room had been knotted into a rope that snaked down to the ground.
***
Shengsheng wondered whether Zhiyu Jiang had returned to the inn.
The streets glowed beneath festival lanterns and overflowed with people.
Pink-cheeked girls shyly offered embroidered handkerchiefs to the young men they admired.
Warm light cast a hazy, comfortable glow. Even travelers burdened by worry seemed touched by the atmosphere, the strain of earning a living fading from their faces.
One young woman looked painfully out of place amid the romantic celebration.
Shengsheng stood in the street, clothing slightly disordered and eyes lost.
It was over.
Her heavenly thunderbolt–no, Xiaoyu–had disappeared.
Shengsheng assumed Zhiyu would return to the inn after they became separated. Yet she had gone there immediately after escaping and found no trace of her.
Had Zhiyu been abducted too?
Surely the heroine could not be as unlucky as Shengsheng.
The idea of reporting the disappearance to the authorities tempted her, but she ultimately rejected it.
“Young lady, you appear to need assistance.”
A clear male voice, smooth as polished jade, sounded behind her.
It was extremely pleasant.
Shengsheng’s spine went rigid.
She ran.
Unfortunately, the speaker had anticipated precisely that response. Before she completed her first step, a hand struck the back of her neck.
Darkness swallowed her.
Being knocked unconscious twice in one day required a truly unparalleled degree of misfortune.
They stood in the middle of a dense crowd, and Weiqing was exceptionally conspicuous. The onlookers stared at him in shock.
Weiqing lifted Shengsheng into his arms. Looking down at her with indulgent affection, he explained calmly, “My wife and I had a small disagreement. I had to use stronger measures to persuade her home.”
Understanding spread across the crowd.
One bold man even shouted, “With a wife that pretty, young master, you’d better give her a proper *persuading* when you get home!”
The unmarried girls nearby flushed scarlet.
The Zhen Kingdom’s customs were open. Its Crown Prince was an outstanding example.
Weiqing smiled faintly.
“This brother speaks wisely. I will certainly *persuade* her with the greatest care.”
The teasing grew louder.
Everyone assumed the handsome, distinguished gentleman must dearly cherish his wife.
And so, amid their cheers, Weiqing openly abducted the unconscious Shengsheng.
***
“Shengsheng, Shengsheng, Shengsheng…”
Why were there so many Shengshengs?
Her mind swam. The back of her neck throbbed as though she had been beaten twice in one day.
“You villain! You said she would wake soon! Give Shengsheng back to me!”
A girl’s tearful shouting made Shengsheng’s head ache more.
“If she refuses to wake, it is undoubtedly because you are too noisy.”
Impatience threaded through the refined male voice.
Shengsheng knew that voice.
It sounded remarkably like the blackhearted scoundrel Weiqing Song.
Wait.
Weiqing Song?
Shengsheng Zhou’s mind snapped awake. Her eyes flew open, only for the lamplight to blind her into closing them again.
Zhiyu Jiang heard the movement and threw herself over.
“Shengsheng! Are you awake? You frightened me to death!”
When Shengsheng weakly opened her eyes, Zhiyu’s immediately reddened.
“Little Thunder…” Shengsheng croaked.
The tears gathering in Zhiyu’s eyes spilled down her cheeks.
“Shengsheng, why did you turn into an idiot? I’m not Little Thunder. I’m Xiaoyu!”
What a terrible child.
She had just cursed Shengsheng into idiocy.
Shengsheng closed her eyes, gathered her thoughts, and asked, “How long was I asleep?”
Hopefully not several months.
Her body felt thoroughly dismantled, which suggested she had been lying there for quite some time.
“Half an hour,” a teasing male voice answered. “Fortunately, you woke. Any longer and your body might have begun to rot.”
Shengsheng turned toward the culprit.
“It has been a long time, Your Highness.”
*I’m exhausted, but I still have to get up and salute you.*
She climbed upright, performed a proper salute to the Crown Prince, and kept her gaze lowered.
Weiqing rolled his bodhi beads between his fingers and smiled.
“Miss Xiaohong recognizes me this time?”
Shengsheng’s fist quietly clenched.
Her voice remained gentle.
“Your Highness teases this servant. I had no other choice.”
*You rotten scoundrel! You knew it was me all along, yet you still acted out that whole handsome-customer-meets-pretty-courtesan scene.*
*Pervert!*
No one had ever called Weiqing a pervert before.
She had misunderstood him.
He had not been performing a tale about a handsome customer and pretty courtesan.
His version concerned an incognito Crown Prince and a lost palace maid trapped in the pleasure quarter.
“No other choice?”
Weiqing lowered his head and smiled brilliantly.
He strolled to where Shengsheng remained kneeling and looked down at her.
“So you offended the Noble Consort after all, were sold across a thousand miles, and became a courtesan in the Zhen Kingdom.”
Shengsheng nearly shattered her teeth.
This wretch could not tolerate seeing her prosper. Now he had resorted to cursing her.
Still, she could not abandon her assigned character. Her face remained solemn.
“This servant did not become a courtesan. The madam saw this servant’s exceptional beauty, ordered her abducted, and attempted to force her into the trade.”
Even Weiqing fell silent.
Did Shengsheng perhaps misunderstand the phrase *exceptional beauty*?
“Ahem.”
He decided to change the subject.
“Jian Zhang.”
A black-clad man stepped from behind him, drew a familiar strip of cloth from his sleeve, and presented it to Shengsheng.
“Is this yours?” Weiqing asked with a kindly smile.
Shengsheng pressed her lips together and stared at the black cloth.
*Wonderful. I can sell it all over again.*
“Jian Zhang, take it back.”
Weiqing’s usually unhurried voice suddenly became urgent.
Expressionless, Jian snatched the cloth from Shengsheng’s hands.
Her gaze became three parts fury, three parts shock, and four parts heartbreak.
Weiqing accepted the strip from Jian and smiled radiantly.
“Whether it belongs to you no longer matters. The emperor of Yong celebrates his birthday in a few days. This will make an excellent gift.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have it wrapped beautifully.”
Mischief entered his elegant, jade-like face beneath the lamplight.
Shengsheng wished she had died in the street.