Chapter 35: Tying Up the Cat (Revised)

Zhao Rongzhang took her time putting on her shoes, but still walked to the table without looking back. She rinsed her mouth with tea, drank some, straightened her clothes, ignored her hair, tucked her money pouch away, and pushed the door open to leave.

There were plenty of men in the world—more handsome, more amusing, more useful than him, and they could even talk! He was just a mute. If it weren’t for his secretive identity and the safety it offered, did he think she’d be willing to play with him?

Zhao Rongzhang closed the door tightly, instructed the waiter that there were valuable items inside and no one was allowed to enter, then hurriedly left the inn.

She wanted to settle this quickly. Her heart was burning, and so was her body. She wished she could find seven or eight men to toy with! The Princess stormed her way toward the brothels and pleasure quarters, venturing deeper into the alleyways until she finally found a brothel.

Zhao Rongzhang flicked her sleeve and stood proudly before the entrance.

Before she could enter, a middle-aged man hurried over to greet her. He was dressed gaudily, with a light layer of powder on his face. Zhao Rongzhang paused at the doorway, already feeling uncomfortable. The middle-aged man raised his eyebrows and smiled, “What kind of male companion would the young lady like?”

Zhao Rongzhang remained silent. Seeing that there were both male and female patrons here, with men actually outnumbering the women, she felt even more uneasy. Frowning, she asked, “Do you have any clean ones here?”

“Oh, the young lady wants a virgin? Yes, but the price starts at ten gold coins.”

Ten gold?!

They weren’t made of gold—how could they be worth that much?

Zhao Rongzhang silently shifted her heels back. “Can I take a look?”

The middle-aged man gave her a quick once-over, immediately recognizing that she was far from short on money. He clapped his hands and called out all the virgins from upstairs.

As soon as he clapped to summon them, the male and female patrons in the brothel looked up eagerly, even faster than she did. No… this was too disgusting! Zhao Rongzhang couldn’t take it anymore. She turned and left.

Too disgusting!

She had heard before that some men were used both ways, and even many famous figures were no exception, but she had never experienced it firsthand. Today was truly an eye-opener. Thankfully, she hadn’t eaten anything in the morning, or she would have vomited on the spot.

Zhao Rongzhang resented her Emperor Father for dying too early. If he had lived longer, allowing her to select a few male favorites to keep in the Princess’s Mansion for whenever she pleased, how wonderful would that have been? And Zhao Jue—if it weren’t for him, she could have picked out some good ones herself to keep. Why would she have to come to this filthy place and endure such disgust?

Zhao Rongzhang began recalling the handsome men she remembered, comparing them to Little Mute.

…Although in terms of appearance, few were more beautiful or more to her taste than Little Mute. But these men were far smarter than him—they could talk and knew how to flatter. What was Little Mute, anyway? She was a Princess—she deserved the best of everything! Once she regained power and influence, once she reconnected with her informants, she would have men on her left and right, detoxifying every day.

But for now, she was down on her luck and had no choice. Zhao Rongzhang walked out of the dark alley and looked up at the bright daylight. She couldn’t be so desperate as to take whatever was available—otherwise, how was she any different from a beast that only knew hunger and satiety? She couldn’t just stuff any filthy thing into her mouth.

With a grim expression, Zhao Rongzhang hurried toward the medical clinic she had visited the day before. That old man said he could treat her condition, right? Then he must have a way to temporarily relieve her heat toxin. If Little Mute wouldn’t let her play with him, she didn’t even want to. She’d use medicine to detoxify first.

Thoughts raced through her mind like swift arrows, and Zhao Rongzhang’s footsteps quickened as she walked. Before long, she had returned to the front of the Inn. She glanced toward the direction of her room—nothing seemed amiss—and continued on, head down, until she reached the medical clinic.

Entering the clinic, Zhao Rongzhang ignored the crowd waiting in line and strode directly into the consultation room. Unexpectedly, the person seated in the middle was not the old man with ginseng-like whiskers from yesterday, but a portly, middle-aged physician. Some around her criticized her rude behavior, but she paid no mind and demanded of the plump doctor, “Where is that Old Doctor? Where is he practicing today?”

“My father is not seeing patients today. Unless it’s an absolute emergency, young lady, please come back tomorrow, or you can wait in line for my diagnosis.”

“Have him come here, or I’ll go find him. Where is he?”

A patient behind her, whose place she had cut, couldn’t stand it any longer. “What an ill-mannered young lady! Old Mr. Wu rests for one day after every five days of practice—this is a well-known rule far and wide. For decades, whether commoners or high-ranking officials, no one has ever insisted on this one day unless it was truly urgent. And even if it were, Old Mr. Wu’s rules are his rules. If he says he won’t see patients, he won’t. Even if you rush to his home, you won’t find him.”

“That’s right, Old Mr. Wu has never broken this rule.”

Zhao Rongzhang pressed her lips together and clenched her fists. All her life, others had accommodated her; this was the first time someone had demanded she abide by someone else’s rules.

Princess Yingrong, accustomed to privilege, had spent over a decade giving orders and had no understanding of how ordinary people lived. Now that she had descended to the mortal world, she needed a clear awareness of her situation. Reflecting on this, Zhao Rongzhang withdrew from the crowd and turned to leave.

“Hey, Young Mr. Wu’s medical skills are also exceptional, though his expertise differs from Old Mr. Wu’s—one excels in external treatments, the other in internal medicine. Many of us are here specifically for Young Mr. Wu’s acupuncture and massage. If you’re truly in a hurry, since you’re already here, why not go to the back of the line and wait patiently?”

Wait, wait, wait—after several setbacks, she was already too frustrated to wait any longer! Besides, she wasn’t even sick. Zhao Rongzhang pushed aside the curtain and walked out, tossing a stiff “Thank you” over her shoulder.

She hadn’t managed to buy a man, nor had she bought any medicine. Zhao Rongzhang bought a few coins’ worth of street food for breakfast and, passing by a stall selling bamboo strips and hemp rope, bought a bundle of rope on a strange impulse. Clutching her purse, which had suffered only superficial damage, she returned to the Inn and paid for another day’s stay.

Pushing open the door, she found the room unchanged from when she had left. Through the pale blue bed curtains, she could vaguely make out the shape of a body lying inside.

This guy was still asleep. Zhao Rongzhang took another bite of the pancake in her hand and set it aside. She walked over and lifted the curtain.

Her anger toward him had already been diluted by other frustrations. Did it matter whether he was willing or not?

It never had.

He understood this well himself, which was why, when he was lucid, he had never truly refused her.

Zhao Rongzhang climbed onto the bed, pretending to embrace him. As soon as he felt her touch, the young man nestled his head against her chest.

In this state, he was easiest to deceive.

Zhao Rongzhang quickly shook out the rope, passed it over his arm, and as she lifted him, looped it around half his body. Once she gave him an embrace, he became very obedient, letting her do as she pleased. Moreover, he seemed moved, as if afraid of being abandoned, his body continuously trying to curl tighter into her arms. Such a large person, deluding himself into shrinking into a little cat.

The rope had already looped around him once, winding around his arm. Zhao Rongzhang pressed the rough rope against the back of his hand, and the person in her arms, completely unaware, pressed even closer against her, as if feeling very secure.

A strange surge of emotion welled up in Zhao Rongzhang’s heart. Thinking of the two of them sleeping together at night, that feeling was particularly fulfilling. Even more fulfilling than when she fully took him in at the peak of desire.

In this world, after she shed her identity as the princess, what remained besides herself?

Only him. With that Gu poison in him, he could never betray her, never leave her. His life and soul were entirely loyal to her, entirely dependent on her for survival.

Zhao Rongzhang didn’t know what to think to be correct. Her anger toward him was simply because she cared about him. When had she ever been so enraged by someone that she nearly lost her reason? Since she cared about him… Zhao Rongzhang rubbed the coarse hemp rope in her hand. Since she cared about him, and he was so obedient now, was it necessary to force him like this?

But her hands paid no heed to the complex thoughts in her mind, having already bound his wrists. She had no experience tying people up, so she tied it loosely. Since childhood, even when hunting deer or rabbits at the hunting grounds, palace servants would help with the binding, or she would find it troublesome and simply shoot another arrow—once dead, there was no need to tie them up. She never had to personally study how to bind prey tightly so they couldn’t escape.

The binding was messy. The hemp rope tangled haphazardly over his jade-like body, unclear whether it was meant to restrain his hands or his legs. It seemed to restrain a little of both, yet not fully restrain either.

Zhao Rongzhang still held him. The coarse hemp rope had already rubbed red marks onto his snow-white skin, but he didn’t seem to feel any pain, still wanting her to hold him. Zhao Rongzhang pressed him down, seeing his chest muscles swell, full and firm, squeezing the rope as if it were sinking into them. His waist was narrow and slender, with each breath showing both strength and fragility, as if enduring devastation. It was beautiful.

She needed to detoxify, she needed to do it. At the same time, she actually enjoyed holding him too. Zhao Rongzhang wrapped her arms around his pitiful waist, the strange surge in her heart growing stronger, so strong it seemed to harmonize with the desires of her body.

The youth was an object entirely belonging to her, with barely any clothing left on him, subjected to her whims like this. Beautiful, good, she liked it very much. Zhao Rongzhang didn’t know what she was thinking either, opening her mouth to bite his chest.

…

Zhao Rongzhang felt his ribs, sensing his breathing grow rapid. Her face sank into a cotton pillow, warm and soft. At night, she slept using this “pillow.”

Zhao Rongzhang was disgusted by the ugly behavior people exposed due to greed, like the repulsive faces of the men in those portraits. She would not, and could not, become that kind of person. Her greed and ambition were noble, a great hand reaching toward the chessboard, towering above the surging black and white pieces, calmly manipulating the winds and clouds, drawing everything she wanted into her grasp. But what connection did she have to nobility at this moment? She was merely a jackal biting into its prey.

His reaction was particularly intense. Originally held sideways in her embrace, this taste made his whole body tremble slightly, his skin quickly turning pink. The hand clutching her sleeve loosened, as if he had lost some strength. Seizing the advantage, Zhao Rongzhang curled her knees to gather strength, grabbed his shoulders, and pressed him down squarely. Their combined weight made the wooden bed creak.

Outside was lively, but as the sun rose, the cries of street vendors hawking their wares faded away.

The youth’s dark hair was slightly disheveled, his cheeks flushed in an unshakeable slumber, his brow furrowed with discomfort—yet this only stirred her heart even more fiercely. She acted without restraint, all sense of propriety lost, her saliva smeared all over his upper body. He was the meat on her plate, the prey in her claws, to be split open at the chest, his heart dug out, wantonly filled and devoured clean by her mouth.

If he were awake while she tormented him like this, tears would likely have already streamed down his face. Thinking this, Zhao Rongzhang paused her feast, lifting her face from the pool of her own saliva, her breath ragged as she gazed at him.

His complexion was even redder than before, his expression ten times more impassioned. His body was pale and clean, the rough brown ropes leaving stark marks, his chest like polished pink jade glass. Even at this point, he still hadn’t woken. Perhaps it was better that he didn’t.