Sixi returned to his room, his heart pounding. His mind full of indecent thoughts, he’d gone and crouched under Shen Jue’s window; weakening the paper pane with saliva, he poked a hole in it to spy on Shen Jue bathing. He’d been shocked to discover Shen Jue’s secret—a secret that could cost Shen Jue his life. A maniacal look spread across Sixi’s face. Now, Shen Jue would have no choice but to submit to him.
After drinking some tea to compose himself, Sixi sat at his desk, eagerly awaiting nightfall. Suddenly, Shen Jue threw the door open. He stood just beyond the threshold, his expression dark.
Sixi knew exactly why the boy was there but pretended otherwise. He assumed an insincere smile. “It’s not midnight yet. I didn’t expect such eagerness.”
Shen Jue stepped inside. The room reeked with a indescribable stench, and he covered his nose in disgust, scanning the chamber. He wore only an underrobe with a thin coat draped atop it. His hair was still wet from his bath, and water droplets trailed down his neck, soaking into his collar. His pale skin glistened like jade wet with dew. Sixi stared transfixed at Shen Jue’s slender white neck, nearly drooling.
Eunuchs were strange creatures. Though they’d been castrated, their desires were undiminished and in fact grew even less restrained. Both men and women were fair game to them—and those who were neither were even more so.
Rumors of eunuchs torturing and killing their partners were rampant in the palace. Their victims’ bodies were said to be mangled beyond recognition. But the palace wasn’t a just place. At most, perpetrators received a few lashes, and the violence only accelerated. If the Fourth Qianxi Courtyard hadn’t been full of madwomen, its audacious eunuchs might even have targeted the nearby imperial consorts.
Shen Jue looked at Sixi coldly. “You saw everything, didn’t you?”
“Saw what?” Sixi’s eyes gleamed with malice.
“Don’t play games with me. What do you want? Speak.” Shen Jue rummaged casually through Sixi’s desk drawers, pulling out strings of jewelry—likely stolen from some other palace courtyard.
“You know what I want,” Sixi said, leering. He leaned in closer and smoothly ran his fingers through Shen Jue’s hair. “All I want is you. I’ve dreamed of you, tossing and turning, night after night.” Shen Jue’s hair was cool beneath Sixi’s palm; every thin strand that brushed against him tickled his heart. Sixi had already imagined a hundred ways to “cherish” Shen Jue, eagerly anticipating the moment Shen Jue would beg for mercy.
“And if I refuse?” Shen Jue’s eyes darkened.
“You can’t,” Sixi whispered into Shen Jue’s ear. “I know your secret. If you want to keep your head and your place in the palace, you’ll obey me. If I spread the word, that little head of yours won’t stay on your neck long.”
“Is that so?” Shen Jue smiled coldly. His hand quietly reached into a drawer, pulling out a pair of scissors. Wrapping his arm around Sixi, he touched their sharp tips to the man’s back.
“Of course, I’ll treat you well,” Sixi said, assuming that Shen Jue was yielding at last. Overjoyed, he returned Shen Jue’s embrace, greedily inhaling his soapy scent.
Suddenly, sharp pain shot through Sixi’s back, and his face contorted in agony. He stared at Shen Jue in disbelief. Shen Jue stared back coldly. His gaze wasn’t that of a person looking at another human being—it was the look a person would give a corpse.
Sixi reached behind his back. His palm came away sticky and wet. As his blood continued to gush, he let out a piglike squeal of pain. Shen Jue grabbed a garment from the chair and stuffed it into Sixi’s mouth. Eyes bulging with rage, Sixi clutched Shen Jue’s hand in a death grip, but his own hands gradually lost their strength. In the end, they finally slipped from Shen Jue’s fingers to the ground. Only Sixi’s eyes, round as copper bells, remained open, as if he was trying to etch Shen Jue’s face into his memory. As if, one night, he would return as a spirit and exact his revenge.
Once Sixi was completely lifeless, Shen Jue removed his coat and wrapped it around Sixi’s wound to stem its bleeding. Then he hoisted Sixi onto his back. Outside, he threw the man into a dry well. No one but Shen Jue knew that the dry well in the Fourth Qianxi Courtyard led to a desolate forest outside the palace walls. Shen Jue had discovered that while cleaning the library, where he’d found an old map of the palace dating back to a previous dynasty.
Shen Jue returned to his room to change into warmer clothes; his fragile body still couldn’t withstand the cold. Then he grabbed a rope and returned to the well, climbing down to pull Sixi’s body deeper into the tunnel. Sixi was heavy, and it took all Shen Jue’s strength to drag him to a suitable spot. Moving the body outside of the palace entirely would’ve taken too long, and Shen Jue still had to clean up the blood in Sixi’s room.
By the time Shen Jue climbed back out of the well, night had fallen. As he emerged, he saw a young boy in black lying near the well. The boy wore a white porcelain mask and held a long saber, his shoulder soaked in what appeared to be blood.
An assassin? Shen Jue thought.
The assassin’s timing couldn’t have been worse. Shen Jue had just killed a man, and he couldn’t let the imperial guards find him there.
Shen Jue fetched the scissors from his room. He gripped them tightly in both hands as he prepared to stab the assassin. Just as the scissors were about to pierce skin, the other boy’s eyes snapped open, flashing with bloodlust. He quickly rolled to his feet, and his right hand clamped down on Shen Jue’s wrist like an iron vice. The young assassin’s left hand drew a dagger from his waistband. He charged forward and pinned Shen Jue to the ground, pressing the blade to his neck.
In the dim light, their eyes met. The assassin boy froze. “Shaoye?”
Shen Jue was also stunned. He reached up and removed the mask. Sure enough, a familiar face greeted him. Its more mature features had developed a stalwart edge. A few drops of blood—their origins unknown—stained his cheeks, giving his visage a fierce, battle-hardened aura.