Chapter 70
Chapter 70: Red Wax, the Whip, a Pitiful Male Favorite
In Third Princess Xuan Ji’s manor, a spy knelt on the floor, shivering so hard his bones threatened to rattle apart. He pressed his forehead to the cold gold-brick tiles and didn’t dare draw a full breath.
Princess Xuan Ji lounged on a soft couch draped in a whole pelt of white fox fur.
Moments ago, she had crushed a flawless glass cup in her bare hand.
Shards bit deep into her palm, slicing tender skin. Dark-red beads welled between her fingers and fell onto the pure white fur, blooming into sinister little plum blossoms.
She didn’t seem to feel it.
A joke. A heavenly, humiliating joke.
She had just learned the truth: Qiu Ru Ying—the woman she had poured so much effort into scheming against—had nothing to do with Lin Qing Xuan at all. No connection. Not even a loose thread.
The one he truly kept in the softest place of his heart was some unknown, lowly maid named Xiao Man.
All her careful plotting. The flower-viewing invitations sent far and wide. The commotion she had stirred through the entire city—what had it earned her?
She had chosen the wrong target from the very start.
How could she not rage?
How could she not burn, knowing she had made herself a complete fool before every powerful noble in the capital?
“Useless!”
“Trash—every last one of you!”
Her chest heaved. The face that could have ruined kingdoms twisted beneath the weight of her fury.
Bang!
She snapped up her foot and kicked over the rosewood low table. Fine tea ware and delicate pastries scattered, shattered, and skidded across the floor.
“Get out!”
She screamed the words as if she meant to tear someone open with them.
The spy fled as if granted a pardon, scrambling out on hands and knees.
Princess Xuan Ji dragged in a hard breath, forcing down the murderous heat in her veins, and swept into the inner chamber.
A row of handsome male favorites knelt inside. At the sight of them, the storm in her chest finally found a place to break.
“What?”
“Why are you all wearing those long faces? Who are you mourning?”
Violence sharpened her beauty into something that could cut. Her voice was a blade.
“I keep you to amuse me when I’m annoyed. Not to stand there with corpse faces and disgust me!”
She snatched up a teacup and flung it without looking—straight at the head of the foremost male favorite.
Scalding tea and fresh blood ran down his smooth temple, leaving him wretched and pitiful.
“Drag him out,” she said, cold as ice.
“Beat him. Beat him until he learns how to smile in front of me.”
The chosen male favorite went paper-white. He ignored the pain bursting across his skull and slammed his head to the floor again and again, begging in a rush of panic.
“Princess, spare me! I was wrong! I won’t dare again! Please—Princess, spare me!”
Princess Xuan Ji didn’t spare him a glance.
Two burly guards rushed in and hauled him away like a dead dog.
A moment later, the yard rang with the heavy, muffled crack of boards slicing through air—and a man’s strangled, helpless screams.
In the winter stillness, the sound turned the estate into a haunted place.
Princess Xuan Ji didn’t so much as twitch. She only frowned, as if the noise dirtied her ears.
Her gaze drifted to another kneeling male favorite.
He was strikingly handsome, peach-blossom eyes made to entice, but now his face had gone gray with fear. His whole body shook like a leaf.
“You.” Princess Xuan Ji pointed at him with long nails painted vivid crimson.
A cruel curve lifted her lips, sweet and sticky as honey. “Go. Bring me my golden whip.”
“This princess is in a foul mood today.” Her voice softened, almost affectionate. “Perfect. I’ll let you taste what a princess’s special favor looks like.”
Her laughter slid through the empty hall, thin and chilling.
The male favorite stiffened as if his soul had been yanked from his body. He knew it—today, he wouldn’t escape.
With trembling hands, he edged toward the weapon rack in the corner and lifted down a long whip plated in gold, its length studded with dense backward barbs. He offered it with both hands, respectful to the point of desperation.
“Take off your top,” she said. “Kneel properly.”
The command held no warmth at all.
The male favorite shut his eyes. A single tear of humiliation slipped down his cheek. He loosened his sash and bared his lean upper body.
His back was a lattice of old scars and fresh wounds, crisscrossing until there was hardly a patch of unbroken skin left.
He dropped to his knees on the icy floor and presented his battered back to her like an offering.
Princess Xuan Ji took the golden whip and turned it idly in her hand, satisfied. Madness glittered in her eyes, bright with interest.
“Someone,” she called, “bring me the reddest-burning candles.”
She traced the whip tip lightly along an old scar on his back, watching with pleasure as his trembling worsened.
“This golden whip,” she murmured, “only becomes truly delicious when it’s paired with scalding red wax.”
A maidservant stepped forward with a tray. Several red candles burned fiercely upon it, their flames throwing Princess Xuan Ji’s face into shifting light and shadow.
Xuan Ji plucked up a candle and tipped it.
A drop of molten wax fell straight onto a small patch of intact skin on the male favorite’s back.
Sizzle.
His body arched. Muscles clenched so hard they seemed ready to snap. Veins stood out on his forehead; his teeth ground together with a brittle sound.
Cold sweat slid down his temple.
Still, he didn’t dare make a noise.
“Tsk.” Princess Xuan Ji clicked her tongue, displeased. “Why aren’t you screaming? I hate obedient pieces of wood.”
She tossed the candle back to the maidservant and tightened her grip on the whip.
“Fine. Then we’ll use the treasure that actually makes you open your mouth.”
The golden whip snapped down.
Crack!
A bright welt burst across his back, skin splitting, flesh tearing.
He choked on a sound, a broken groan forced out despite himself.
That single muffled note delighted her.
She laughed—openly, viciously. “Yes. That’s it.”
She bent close to his ear, breath warm and perfumed, her words venomous. “Scream. Louder. The worse you sound, the happier I am.”
Crack!
Another lash fell, crossing the first, carving a bloody X.
The male favorite shook violently. Sweat drenched his hair. He bit his own lips until they bled.
“Princess… spare me…” he rasped at last, voice shredded.
“Spare you?” Princess Xuan Ji smiled as if he’d told her the funniest thing in the world. “My mood today is bad. Very bad.”
She stepped forward and used the end of the golden whip to lift his chin, forcing him to look up.
His handsome face was slick with sweat and tears, filled with raw, drowning despair.
“It’s because you worthless things couldn’t even get basic information right,” she said softly, each word sharper than the last. “You turned my plan into a colossal joke.”
Her tone was gentle enough to frighten. The madness in her eyes burned like a furnace.
“So tell me,” she murmured, “how should I punish you to soothe my hatred?”
Her smile widened. “Maybe… I’ll carve a few lines into that pretty face of yours, too.”
His pupils shrank. All color fled his skin as the barbed, bloodied whip crept closer to his eyes, and the fear of death swallowed him whole.