Chapter 453: I’m Not That Petty, You Know

“You’ve really struck my fancy, little sister. When you return to the capital next time and have some free time, come visit the Yan Residence and look for me—Li Niang would love to play with you.”

The arrival of the Second Miss Yan and her companions had been abrupt, and their departure was just as sudden. Just as the faint sparks of friction between Li Shu and the others had barely begun to flicker into existence, a steward quietly approached the beautiful, mature woman and leaned in to murmur a few words by her ear. The woman’s gaze immediately shifted toward the direction of the harbor. After a brief glance, she reached out, took the Second Miss Yan by the hand, and politely but firmly took her leave.

It was likely some private matter not meant for outsiders’ ears.

From a distance, Zhu Ping’an cast a quick look in that direction. Sure enough, several figures dressed like officials were already waiting respectfully nearby. Behind them stood a number of horse-drawn carriages draped in black curtains, their wheels sunk deep into the ground, leaving heavy ruts—clear signs of urgency and importance.

As she was leaving, the Second Miss Yan still turned back and shot Zhu Ping’an several “affectionate” looks filled with naked hostility, her gaze sharp enough to cut.

Li Shu noticed it all.

What a shameless vixen, she thought bitterly. Even when leaving, she still has to flirt!

Just as Zhu Ping’an was about to withdraw his gaze from the line of carriages, he suddenly froze.

Wait.

What had that mature woman just said to Li Shu?

Li Niang.

She called herself Li Niang.

There really was a woman named Li Niang?

Zhu Ping’an clearly remembered reading certain unofficial historical accounts back in the modern era—stories about Yan Shifan. According to those wild histories, Yan Shifan had a most beloved concubine, deeply doted upon, whose name was Li Niang. The woman before him matched those descriptions almost eerily well: skin as white as fresh snow, a face as vividly beautiful as a painted portrait.

Perhaps those so-called “wild histories” weren’t entirely groundless after all.

If this woman truly was that Li Niang, then she was no ordinary figure.

The accounts said Li Niang hailed from the banks of the Qingpu River—modern-day Shanghai—and many of Yan Shifan’s most depraved and extravagant indulgences had been conceived by her hand. Things like the White Jade Cup, the Gentle Chair, the Jade Screen…

Her intelligence, it seemed, was displayed to its fullest in the realm of decadence and excess.

Take the Gentle Chair and the Jade Screen, for example—these were Yan Shifan’s favored amusements.

The so-called Gentle Chair was exactly what it sounded like, though far more obscene. Several concubines, completely naked, would be arranged to serve as furniture. Two beautiful women would sit on the chair, legs stretched slightly apart, while Yan Shifan leaned against their soft bodies as a backrest. Meanwhile, four more naked concubines would lie face-down across a long bench, their bodies forming a human seat. Yan Shifan would sit atop them, leaning back against the others—drinking, indulging himself, or even handling official affairs amid the press of warm flesh.

As for the Jade Screen, it was even more lurid.

This required at least a dozen concubines, all completely unclothed, each wearing a small tag marked with a number. Yan Shifan would recline on the Gentle Chair while the naked women slowly circled around him like a revolving screen. He would drink wine and draw lots; whichever number came up determined which concubine would be pulled onto the Gentle Chair to serve him. While he indulged himself with her, the rest would gather around, cheering and encouraging, waiting their turn as the lots were drawn again.

Then there was the White Jade Cup.

This one was reserved for entertaining guests.

When the banquet reached its height and the guests were flushed with drink, Yan Shifan would clap his hands and order the White Jade Cups brought forth. At once, rows of provocatively dressed maidservants—barely clothed, revealing far more than they concealed—would step forward. Each held a mouthful of warm wine, passing it directly from lips to lips into the mouths of the guests. Afterward, they would slowly extend their soft tongues into the guests’ mouths, gently stirring, an act poetically—and obscenely—called “returning sweetness.”

There were countless other such indulgences.

Before Zhu Ping’an could finish recalling them all, Li Shu suddenly coughed loudly beside him.

“Cough, cough… that woman does look pretty good, huh.”

She said it lightly, her expression calm and serene, as though the years were peaceful and nothing at all bothered her. She looked at Zhu Ping’an as if it were casual small talk.

“Just… so-so,” Zhu Ping’an replied, lips twitching slightly.

In truth, the Second Miss Yan and that woman called Li Niang were undeniably beautiful. But with Li Shu—this walking calamity of beauty—standing right beside him, so-so was the only word that came to mind.

So-so?

He actually said so-so?

On the surface, Li Shu remained unfazed, but inside she was already bristling, claws out.

Sure, you didn’t agree with me and say she was pretty—but ‘so-so’ still won’t do!
So-so means acceptable! What’s acceptable about that shameless fox? She’s not taller than me, not better built than me, and her face is nowhere near mine! Just looking at her flirtatious air makes me mad!

“You’ve got high standards,” Li Shu said mildly. “How is she only so-so? I think she’s quite pretty. Nice figure, long legs, and a classic melon-seed face.”

Then she added, as if idly curious, “So tell me—what part of her is ‘so-so’ to you?”

“The back of her head,” Zhu Ping’an answered without hesitation.

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew something was wrong.

The air seemed to drop by several degrees instantly, a chill crawling up his spine as if he’d fallen straight into an ice cellar. He turned his head and found Li Shu staring at him, her face icy and expressionless.

“…You’re jealous?” Zhu Ping’an asked, stunned.

“What are you talking about?” Li Shu snapped, rolling her eyes dramatically. She put on an air of breezy indifference. “Why would I be jealous? What relationship do we even have? Don’t flatter yourself—you toad dreaming of swan meat. Her back of the head is nice-looking. I don’t care at all.”

“I really don’t care,” she emphasized stiffly. “It’s such a small thing. I’m not that petty.”

Everything seemed fine—

Until the next second.

“Move away!!! Your shadow is stepping on my shadow!!!”

Li Shu suddenly pointed furiously at the ground, her tone inexplicably explosive, demanding that Zhu Ping’an keep his distance.

“Because the back of her head means she’s already left,” Zhu Ping’an said calmly.

When you see someone’s back, it means they’re walking away.

The back of her head meant she was gone—meaning he didn’t like her at all.

The moment Li Shu understood this, her expression shifted instantly from stormy clouds to clear skies. She still muttered a few stubborn words under her breath, unwilling to fully concede, but she no longer insisted that Zhu Ping’an move away.

After another ten-odd minutes, the atmosphere finally returned to normal.

There was still more than an hour before boarding the ship, so Li Shu and Zhu Ping’an wandered through the nearby market by the docks, buying supplies to take onboard. Once they set sail into the vast sea, it would be many days before they could dock again—there would be nowhere to buy anything.

Li Shu purchased piles of fruit, vegetables, meats, and seasonings, saying she wanted the ship’s chef to make something delicious. The items were handed off to the following maids and older servants. She also had someone visit an apothecary to buy common medicines, carefully packed into small bundles to bring along.

While browsing, Zhu Ping’an noticed fishing gear for sale at a general goods stall. Faced with the endless ocean, it would be a waste not to fish. He bought a fishing rod and some bait. Li Shu’s eyes lit up when she saw this, and she immediately bought two more rods—one for herself, one for the little maid Baozi.

Because they bought several rods, the shopkeeper generously threw in a net bag, saying it could be used to catch small fish and shrimp with bait.

As noon approached, someone sent by Marquis Linhuai arrived at the market to escort them back to the ship. All the ceremonial rites at the dock had already been completed.

Everything was ready.

All that remained… was to set sail.