Imperial Weight Chapter 11
Translated by Sylver (ko-fi)
Chapter 11
The young courtesan bumped into the young prince's embrace. When Xingyi first saw him, it was just like when they were in the Heavenly Court—cold and aloof, like the most solid ice of Jiangling City's winter days.
On the first day, he only briefly came to sit for a while, barely exchanged a few words, and didn't even ask his name.
On the second day, he brought Little Phoenix to watch a play. They didn't go far—the stage was right in the pleasure house, and the people coming and going were all regulars of the red-light district, either wealthy or noble. Xingyi and Little Phoenix sat in the seats of honor. The carved phoenix-patterned nanmu wood chair felt cold to the touch. The tea placed on the table remained untouched by either of them, one cup each. The finest white tea sat there, and Little Phoenix would occasionally pick up his cup and pretend to take a light sip, not actually touching his lips, only to turn his head and steal glances at his client: Xingyi calmly gazed ahead, his eyes reflecting the lights and figures on stage, gleaming faintly.
The tea's fragrance was somewhat intoxicating. After listening to the entire play, Little Phoenix felt a bit dizzy. When he asked someone about it, he learned that not only could wine make one drunk, but tea consumed too quickly could also intoxicate—this was called "tea drunkenness."
On the third day, when Xingyi came again, Little Phoenix hadn't yet gotten out of bed. He entered the room to wait, sitting at the table, and noticed a book Little Phoenix had left there—it was actually one of the required readings for child scholars and learned men.
"You can read?" Xingyi asked him.
Little Phoenix nodded. He had spent considerable effort on these things. From a young age, he had to learn music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, drinking wine and composing poetry, all to attract those literati, to be worthy of a reputation that "moved all under heaven."
"What else do you enjoy in your daily life?" Xingyi idly flipped through a few of Little Phoenix's poems, which were barely passable in quality, and asked.
Little Phoenix knew what the standard answer was. The so-called "tailoring your approach to your audience" meant that when literati and poets came, you should say you loved flowers, birds, wind, and moon, compete with them in drinking and poetry; when military men came, you would say you were an uncultured person who didn't understand much, only admired those fine men who achieved merit for the country, and loved to hear good stories from the battlefield with their scent of weapons and armor. Xingyi was a prince—he only knew him as a prince—and seemingly should also have those habits of pampered nobility: fond of wine, of entertainment, of beauty. But Xingyi's attitude left him somewhat uncertain—he had never seen such a cold playboy. What should a cold-faced playboy like?
Little Phoenix hesitated and accidentally spoke the truth. "I like to go out and play."
He didn't place emphasis on the word "play," but unconsciously stressed the two words "go out."
Xingyi raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Is that so?"
Little Phoenix didn't know what he was laughing at. Xingyi quietly finished reading through his book of poetry practice in his room, then stood up to leave. Before leaving, he asked, "Feng Huang, how old are you now?"
This was the first time he'd called him by name. Little Phoenix quickly answered, "Sixteen."
Xingyi nodded, said nothing more, and left just like that.
On the third day, Xingyi didn't come.
On the fourth day, he still didn't come.
Little Phoenix secretly went to ask the matron. "Madam, is it still a thousand gold pieces to see me? Can I lower my price a bit?"
The matron glared at him. "What are you thinking? Right now people are willing to pay a thousand gold and still can't see you. Why are you asking about this?"
Little Phoenix brushed it off with some nonsense. He was clever and knew the matron forbade those under her from developing real feelings for clients, so he secretly asked his companions, "For a prince, what's the salary roughly? Would he be short on money? If I take out all my savings, can you help me send it to his prince's mansion? Just say... just say it's to repay a kindness, and don't mention my name."
His companion said, "Imperial relatives are all extremely wealthy, they won't be short on money. Are you thinking about that prince from a few days ago? I'm telling you, he doesn't look like someone short on money. Just the jade pendant hanging on him is worth several hundred visits to see you."
Little Phoenix said, "Oh."
He returned to his room and sat by the window waiting, but after waiting half a month, Xingyi never came.
****
Xingyi only managed to hear these few segments of the birds' mutual boasting conversation. The voices in the snow bamboo forest fell silent, then remained quiet for a moment, as if both sides were sighing to each other.
Xingyi's eyelid twitched. Then he stood still in place, silent for a moment, before extending his hand to flick out a wind blade, cutting down a purple bamboo stalk about twenty-some feet behind him. The purple bamboo crashed down with a tremendous sound like withering and decaying, immediately startling the two birds deep in the bamboo forest.
The Golden-Winged Bird alertly raised its head. "Hey, it seems someone's coming. Did you hear? The bamboo over there fell. Is it a servant boy from here? What nerve—daring to touch the purple bamboo forest of Fuli Palace."
Little Phoenix panicked. "They wouldn't do that. Anyone who dares to cut bamboo from the purple bamboo forest must be the Emperor him—"
With those words, Xingyi started walking again. His usual unhurried, leisurely manner was gone—he walked inward almost swiftly. The two birds also quickly heard his footsteps. Little Phoenix hadn't finished half his sentence when, thinking quickly, he immediately switched to incomprehensible chirping sounds.
After he chirped a few times, Xingyi arrived, his form like wind, unpredictable as ghosts and spirits.
The scene looked quite harmonious—two birds crouched together playing. Little Phoenix energetically sang his off-key song, while the Golden-Winged Bird obligingly jumped down from the stone bench and respectfully bowed. "Greetings, Emperor."
Little Phoenix bobbed his head back and forth, nonchalantly continuing to chirp, even extending his little head to peck a fruit into his mouth, munching and swallowing it.
Xingyi looked at them with a half-smile. "I came to gather some bamboo shoots. So you were playing here all along."
The Golden-Winged Bird, having been scared half to death by one of Xingyi's glares last time, already had psychological trauma. This time he was also trembling, hastily trying to leave. "Well, um, we've played enough today. Emperor, I'm returning your Little Phoenix to you. I guarantee I didn't bully him."
Xingyi said, "It's fine, you two can continue playing. I'm in the smelting room all day, so indeed I can hardly keep it company."
The Golden-Winged Bird said, "No, no, no—we've finished playing, really finished! I'm leaving right now. You two take your time chatting—I mean, take care."
Xingyi nodded.
The Golden-Winged Bird breathed a sigh of relief and was about to flee, but was called back by Xingyi. "Your feather color—what happened? Last time I saw you, I remember it was still crimson-gold."
The Golden-Winged Bird glanced at Little Phoenix.
Little Phoenix averted his gaze and began examining the silver tray on the table with great interest.
So the Golden-Winged Bird said, "My big brother told me—changing feather color changes your mood. He said I used to be too impulsive and jumpy, and needed to change to an elegant color like white to cultivate myself—oh dear, Emperor, I really must go. I still have to bring Mingzun Daren his foot bath. Goodbye! I wish you good health!"
The Golden-Winged Bird fled in a panic.
Little Phoenix, the lone bird, continued chirping his song, looking perfectly innocent, his pair of little beady eyes looking over, the expression in them thoroughly guileless.
Xingyi reached out and picked up this round little fellow. Little Phoenix immediately curled into a ball, nestling rather timidly in his palm, even nuzzling him with his fluffy little head.
But Xingyi didn't stroke his head as usual. Instead, he lifted Little Phoenix up, holding him at eye level.
After a moment, Xingyi spoke. "I'm usually busy and don't have much time to care for you. I'm planning to find a palace attendant to be responsible for your daily life—feeding, bathing, cleaning your nest, building a bird climbing frame, and such. What do you think?"
Little Phoenix played dumb with him, nodding one moment and shaking his head the next, spinning several circles in his palm before crouching down, craning his neck to look at him, his little beady eyes rolling around.
Xingyi cleared his throat lightly. "Most people in my Fuli Palace are star attendants with half-idle duties and no particular titles. I'm thinking, starting with your matter, I'll establish official positions in the palace. What do you think?"
Little Phoenix looked at him, not understanding why he was telling him about this.
Xingyi said impassively, "Since it's about caring for you, what do you think the title and position of the person responsible should be? The human realm has falcon keepers; here, what do you think—how about the three characters 'Shit-Shoveling Official'?"
Little Phoenix's whole body shuddered.
Those rolling beady eyes quickly glanced at Xingyi, then immediately looked elsewhere, continuing to play dumb. "Chirp chirp chirp, chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp."
"Really, you think it's not bad?" Xingyi tapped his little head, a trace of a smile forming at his lips. "Then that's settled."
When Xingyi brought him back, Little Phoenix kept secretly observing Xingyi's expression, but the man remained as indifferent as water, not much different from usual. Little Phoenix's intuition told him Xingyi might have heard something, but he didn't dare confirm it.
Because Xingyi said nothing else, and seemed completely oblivious.
Little Phoenix pondered and pondered, and accidentally fell asleep, tumbling headfirst into Xingyi's embrace. Xingyi observed him for a moment, tucked him into his sleeve, and leisurely returned to his chambers.
The next day, Little Phoenix felt that the karmic retribution for pretending he couldn't speak had come again—the bamboo behind Fuli Palace was flowering in patches, visibly about to wither. Xingyi had people harvest all the bamboo seeds at once. They filled a full six platters. Little Phoenix ate half of them in one go. The entire bird became round and puffed up, able only to lie motionless with his little wings spread out on the snowy ground, digesting.
When Xingyi saw this, he crouched down and touched his fluffy belly, saying leisurely, "Eating like this, can you still lose weight?"
Little Phoenix chirped at him, using his wing tip to stroke his own belly, lifting a small tuft of thick, soft feathers to show him.
Xingyi quickly grasped the meaning. "You're saying you have a lot of feathers, you're not fat? True, that day when you got wet and stood by the window, you were indeed slightly smaller than the hole in the window paper."
Little Phoenix quickly nodded. Delightedly, he twisted around, dug a pit in the snow, then stuffed himself into it and buried himself, leaving only a round little head exposed. Afterward, he shook his feathers and nimbly dove headfirst into the snow, emerging moments later from another spot, meaning to say he wasn't just not fat, but very agile, and even had energy to do aerobic exercises.
Just as Little Phoenix was preparing to do another round of aerobic exercises for him, Xingyi caught him, examined him for a while, and said somewhat regretfully, "Perhaps it was water retention before; but now you're eating so well here with me, and I don't see you exercising much, so you must have truly gotten fat."
Little Phoenix squirmed in his hand, wriggling around, trying to burrow into his collar.
Xingyi held his round bird bottom, unmoving. "If you want proof, it's simple. I saw that Golden-Winged Bird shaved his feathers and grew white plumage. His original feathers were long and thin, the sword feathers of a bird of prey. Now his feathers are like yours too, but he's indeed much thinner than you, and looks somewhat fluffier than before. To see whether you're fat or thin, shaving off all the feathers is not a bad method. What do you think?"
Before Little Phoenix could react to the meaning in his words, Xingyi had already carried him inside. Xingyi put the Star Disc to sleep, then found an exquisite, slender leaf-blade knife in the smelting room.
Xingyi said, "Be good, don't hurt yourself."
Only then did Little Phoenix realize what Xingyi was planning to do—
He was actually going to shave off all his feathers!
For the phoenix clan, heads could be severed, blood could be shed, the weight loss cause must not be abandoned, and not a single feather could be mussed. But now...
Xingyi was going to pluck his feathers!
Although he was his husband, Little Phoenix felt a surge of grief and indignation. Watching as Xingyi pressed that leaf-blade into his sleeve and was smoothing out his feathers along their grain, Little Phoenix cried out in protest. "Chirp chirp chirp! Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!"
Xingyi made a show of listening intently, then smiled gently. "Really, you also think this is a good method?"
In that instant, Little Phoenix felt he saw on Xingyi's face the exact same expression as Phoenix Ming King.
He hugged his head with his little wings and waddled to crouch in a corner, but was caught and brought back by Xingyi. Little Phoenix closed his eyes and wailed tragically. "Don't! Don't shave my feathers! If you shave them you have to take responsibility! I was wrong, I can speak, please don't shave my feathers waaaaaah—"
After waiting a long while, Little Phoenix realized there was no movement, so he cautiously poked his head out to glance at Xingyi.
Xingyi had long since put away the leaf-blade. He stood by the table with his hands behind his back, his expression somewhere between a smile and not. "So you can speak now, hmm?"
Little Phoenix shrank his neck, cowering into a ball.
He shuffled backward, whimpering pitifully. "Eep."
