Volume 1, Chapter 6: Young Master, I Am Cold

"This..." Liu Qi did not dare answer lightly. In his current position, lowly and powerless, a single wrong word could cost him his life.

"What, you are unwilling?" Yang Yuqi frowned, pressing her bare foot onto Liu Qi’s head and forcing his face into the dirt. "That Sima Yun seems quite fond of you. I imagine you find yourself enjoying the service you provide her?"

"This lowly one would not dare..." Liu Qi replied.

"Dare not? It looks to me like you enjoy it quite a bit!" Yang Yuqi scoffed and kicked him away.

Liu Qi rolled several times before coming to a stop, prostrate on the ground, groaning in agony. Yang Yuqi was a battle-hardened general; though she was a woman, her strength was immense. That single kick left Liu Qi feeling dazed and battered.

"You will do whatever I command. Do not forget, your life belongs to me, and I can take it whenever I please," Yang Yuqi said coldly, looking down at the man groveling on the ground.

Liu Qi murmured, "Yes."

"Get out." Yang Yuqi turned her back on him.

Liu Qi retreated from Yang Yuqi’s tent. Deputy Commander Guan was already waiting outside. Seeing Liu Qi emerge, he led him toward another tent. As soon as Liu Qi entered, he saw several women in tattered clothing, their hair disheveled, huddled together. Despite their filthy state, their figures were graceful and their features delicate and captivating.

These were refugees from the fallen Kang Dynasty. Those of average appearance were kept in cages, while those of exceptional beauty were held here—some destined to be camp prostitutes, others to be sent to the households of officials and merchants as domestic slaves. In short, they were all women waiting to be given away as gifts.

Yang Yuqi had arranged for Liu Qi to be kept here, and the implication was clear: she did not view him as a human being; she regarded him as nothing more than a common harlot.

Deputy Commander Guan sneered, "Living with a flock of hens—I suppose you’ve found your own kind. Don't you dare touch them; if you're caught, you’ll lose your life, boy."

Liu Qi said nothing, standing in silence. Seeing that Liu Qi refused to take the bait, the deputy commander grew bored and kicked Liu Qi behind the knee. The blow was so sudden that Liu Qi was caught off guard and collapsed to his knees on the spot. Watching Liu Qi’s pathetic state, Deputy Commander Guan let out a boisterous laugh and strode away.

So it is said that a weak nation has no diplomacy. Moreover, the Kang Dynasty had already been destroyed, and in their eyes, Liu Qi did not even qualify as a human. Yet, the seeds of hatred had already been sown in Liu Qi’s heart, slowly taking root and sprouting. At this moment, Liu Qi was like a man falling into an abyss, clutching desperately at a straw to keep from plummeting to the very bottom. He had to hold onto this hatred, for it was the very fuel that kept him alive.

Liu Qi stood up and walked further inside. The women recoiled, watching him with anxiety and terror, fearful that he would bully them.

Liu Qi did not speak; he silently found an empty spot and sat down to rest. Seeing that he seemed to harbor no ill intent, the women relaxed slightly. Just then, a woman with a graceful figure stood up. She brushed back her messy hair, her snow-white legs flashing beneath her tattered hem as she moved. She pulled up her rags to cover her shame, crouched down slowly, and nudged Liu Qi.

"Young Master, Young Master..." the woman called out softly, her voice as gentle as water.

Liu Qi turned, frowned, and then sat up in surprise. "Nongyu?"

It was indeed Nongyu. She gave a faint smile, wiped the dirt from her face, and said, "I never expected to meet you here."

"Are you all right?" Liu Qi asked.

"I am well. Thank you for your concern, Young Master," Nongyu smiled radiantly and sat down beside him.

One of the women nearby asked, "Young Master, are you also from the Kang Dynasty?"

Liu Qi nodded. The women, as if meeting a long-lost friend, gathered around, pouring out their hardships and venting their grievances. Some began to cry openly.

"What is all this noise? Are you tired of living?" Deputy Commander Guan suddenly burst in, drawing his sword. He grabbed a woman by her hair and dragged her out. The woman let out a blood-curdling scream; shortly after being dragged outside, the screaming ceased abruptly.

Moments later, the deputy commander returned holding the woman’s severed head and tossed it into the crowd. The women shrieked, scrambling away and huddling together in the corner. Seeing their terror, the deputy commander laughed with satisfaction and threatened, "Make another sound, and I’ll kill you all!"

Nongyu clung tightly to Liu Qi, her nails digging into his arm in her tension. After the deputy commander left, everyone let out a long breath.

"That hurts," Liu Qi told Nongyu.

Only then did Nongyu realize her nails had pierced his skin. She apologized profusely and tried to soothe the wound with her breath. "Young Master, I am so sorry..."

Liu Qi shook his head. "It is nothing."

"I had been digging in for so long, why did you only just say something?" Nongyu asked.

Liu Qi replied, "The deputy commander was clearly drunk. Had I provoked his displeasure, he likely would have dragged you out to be executed. I had to endure it."

Nongyu was deeply moved, covering her mouth as tears welled up and spilled over. Though the pain of her nails was sharp, compared to what Liu Qi endured, it was nothing. Liu Qi’s capacity for restraint astonished her. Anyone destined for greatness possessed the quality of endurance, for the failure to tolerate small slights often ruins great plans.

"Rest now," Liu Qi said.

Nongyu nodded, leaning against him. "Young Master, I am cold."

Liu Qi turned and pulled her into his embrace. Nongyu lowered her head, smiling faintly, and nestled into him, as docile as a kitten.

Liu Qi asked softly, "Are you still cold?"

"No, I am not," Nongyu said, feeling a sense of happiness.

Liu Qi closed his eyes to rest, and Nongyu fell asleep in his arms. In the days that followed, Liu Qi spent his time serving Yang Yuqi, then heading to Sima Yun’s tent to serve her. Compared to Yang Yuqi’s wildness, Liu Qi found he preferred Sima Yun’s seductive charm.

Every time he went to Sima Yun’s tent, he would find her wearing all manner of strange, revealing undergarments to entice him. They were styles entirely foreign to the region, clearly imported from the northern tribes—bold, provocative, and scandalous. Yet, Liu Qi found himself drawn to these designs; as a hot-blooded man, he could not resist the heart-pounding sensation they stirred.

After the storm had passed, Liu Qi lay on a bronze table, drenched in sweat. Sima Yun, soft and fragrant, draped herself against his side, her slender index finger tracing his chest and abdomen. Liu Qi shivered, and Sima Yun let out a charming laugh. "So sensitive—do you like this feeling?"

She sat astride him, looking down, and slowly leaned in. "We reach the Great Qian tomorrow. Would you like to come with me to see the Prince of Qi?" she asked, her hand slowly moving downward.

For Liu Qi, he had no power to choose, but if he could secure a connection with the Prince of Qi, he could escape his status as a slave much sooner. Liu Qi could sense that Sima Yun enjoyed their time together, so he had to seize this chance. After all, whether he could ever turn his life around depended entirely on whether she was willing to help him.

"I am at your command, My Lady," Liu Qi said, struggling to endure her teasing.

Sima Yun gave a wicked smirk. "That depends on how well you perform."

With that, she tossed her high ponytail and began to move.