Volume One, Chapter 12: Sima Yun’s Residence

The army returned to the capital, and Liu Qi drew aside the curtain of the carriage window, gazing at the scene outside. The Great Qian Dynasty flourished, with bustling streets and alleys filled with hawkers calling out their wares, and an array of peculiar, exotic goods on display. Most of these items were foreign imports from barbarian lands—things Liu Qi had never even seen before.

“How do you find it?” Sima Yun whispered coquettishly by Liu Qi’s ear.

Liu Qi replied, “There are many things I’ve never seen before.”

“They’re all trinkets from the barbarians, common folk’s goods mostly discarded after the royal family has had their fun with them. If you want to see the real treasures, you have to go to the Prince of Qi’s mansion,” Sima Yun said proudly.

“Big sister, where exactly are we headed?” Liu Qi asked.

“To the Prince of Qi’s residence, to pay him a visit,” Sima Yun answered.

“And will I stay by your side from now on?” Liu Qi inquired again.

“Little master, are you trying to cling to me?” Sima Yun teased, gently stroking his chin.

Having spent many days together, Liu Qi had long understood Sima Yun’s temperament and thus managed his responses more adeptly.

“You are beautiful and kind, sister. I am forever grateful that you spared my life. As for staying by your side, I only dare to hope for it,” Liu Qi said humbly.

A faint smile curved Sima Yun’s lips. “Whether you stay or not depends on the Prince of Qi.”

Liu Qi lowered his head and fell silent.

Sima Yun added, “But your skills are quite useful. It would be a pity to kill you. If the Prince of Qi doesn’t want you, you can always come to my house and become my personal companion. It’s a carefree and pleasant life.”

“Whatever you decide, I will obey,” Liu Qi said.

Now that he had arrived in the Qian dynasty, his future was left to fate. Although he had shed the identity of a slave, his head still hung by a thread at his waist; one misstep and it could be severed. He had to be cautious—at the very least, he had to pass the test of the Prince of Qi.

Though Liu Qi had never met the Prince, he had learned enough about him back in the military camp. The Prince of Qi, reputedly indifferent to worldly affairs, was no innocent; his detachment was but a facade. What he sought was likely the mandate of heaven and eternal prosperity.

In that sense, he and Liu Qi were alike, which made Liu Qi all the more wary. When similar souls meet, it becomes a contest of acting skills. One slip, one false move, and his head would likely be forfeit.

Soon, the carriage arrived at a residence. It was modest in scale, hardly befitting a prince’s mansion. Sima Yun said this was her home and stepped down from the carriage.

Liu Qi followed silently, observing his surroundings carefully.

Inside, there were few maids, but each was lively and well-nourished, suggesting Sima Yun treated her attendants well—each evidently well fed.

They entered a room where two neatly dressed maids awaited, prepared with wooden tubs and hot water.

“Milady,” the two maids greeted respectfully.

Sima Yun waved her hand. “Clean him up well. I want to take him to meet the Prince of Qi shortly.”

Ordinarily, a slave like Liu Qi would never be granted an audience with the Prince. Sima Yun could have kept him as her personal companion without seeking permission. But Liu Qi was the slave of Yang Yuqi, who seemed interested in him, and since the Prince of Qi aimed to win favor with Yang Yuqi, Sima Yun intended to present Liu Qi to the prince.

“Understood,” the maids replied, beginning to undress Liu Qi.

His tattered clothes were stripped away, and they helped him into the wooden tub.

“After the bath, dress him in fresh clothes and bring him to the main hall to find me,” Sima Yun instructed.

“Certainly,” the maids responded.

Sima Yun left.

As Liu Qi sat in the warm water, his tense nerves relaxed somewhat. The maids were attentive—one scrubbed his back while the other poured water, their gentle care comforting.

No wonder some young nobles fell for their maids; such daily closeness made it hard not to develop feelings.

“Sir, please raise your arm,” said the maid on his right.

Liu Qi lifted his arm.

“What is your name?” he asked her.

“My name is Xiaolan,” she replied.

“And you?” he asked the other maid.

“Xiaofang.”

Liu Qi nodded and then asked, “What are milady’s usual interests?”

“Milady likes men,” Xiaolan said, covering her mouth with a smile.

Xiaofang remained expressionless.

Liu Qi laughed awkwardly and asked, “Is milady kind to her servants?”

“Milady is very kind, treats us well,” Xiaolan answered softly.

“That is, as long as you don’t make mistakes,” Xiaofang added coldly.

Xiaolan nodded. “Yes, as long as you don’t err, milady is good.”

“And if you do?” Liu Qi pressed.

“Milady kills,” Xiaolan said frankly.

Liu Qi nodded thoughtfully. Judging by the maids’ well-developed physiques, they were certainly well fed.

As for Sima Yun’s temper, Liu Qi had long experienced it. She loved handsome men but was mercurial and extreme in her moods. Back in the camp, he had nearly lost his life over a single misstep in speech.

Thus, dealing with a woman like Sima Yun required keeping a careful distance. No matter how long the acquaintance, one must never become too close, lest the intimacy breed candid truths that she could not tolerate.

And her only response to unwelcome truths was death.

Soon, Liu Qi’s bath was finished. Xiaolan and Xiaofang dressed him in fresh clothes, restoring his vigor. His disheveled hair was neatly pinned up, and his clear features now appeared clean and tidy, no longer ragged.

“Unexpectedly, sir, you are quite handsome,” Xiaolan said, cheeks flushed with shyness.

Xiaofang remained expressionless but her eyes flickered with subtle change.

“Let’s go, sir. We’ll see milady now,” Xiaolan said, linking arms with Liu Qi as they left the room.

Xiaofang said nothing, casting a glance at Liu Qi’s retreating figure before quietly tidying the room.

“Isn’t Xiaofang coming along?” Liu Qi asked on the way.

“She prefers to be alone, a loner by nature, but meticulous and diligent. She handles all the household chores,” Xiaolan explained with a smile.

Liu Qi nodded thoughtfully—so she was a quiet, hardworking maid.

As for Xiaolan, she was certainly the kind who could win her mistress’s favor; even this brief encounter left Liu Qi with a good impression of her.

The two arrived at the main hall where Sima Yun sat sipping tea. Upon Liu Qi’s entrance, she glanced up, her expression momentarily frozen.

“Milady,” Xiaolan called softly.

Sima Yun recovered, clearing her throat. “Sit beside me.”

Liu Qi nodded and quietly took the seat.

Sima Yun’s cheeks flushed slightly as her gaze roamed over Liu Qi—up and down, back and forth—before settling on his legs. She swallowed nervously, her thoughts inscrutable.