Silent Lover (The Silent Concubine) - Chap 157
Hong Lian clicked his tongue twice, got out of bed, and walked past Song Qing with his naked body. Although he was thin, his hips were perky and round, making Song Qing’s mouth go dry. He quickly turned his head…
“Master Song, you’ve set too many rules for yourself. If you were willing to let go of some of them and be as unrestrained as I am, who knows? You might find more joy…”
When Hong Lian was almost fully dressed, Song Qing turned around and happened to see Hong Lian putting on his silk shirt. He noticed a faint, crimson mark on his shoulder…
It was like a blow to Song Qing. His eyes widened, and he crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing Hong Lian and tearing off his clothes…
“Oh my, Master Song, you come and go as you please. I just got dressed, and you’re already impatient~.”
Hong Lian blinked at Song Qing, who ignored him and stared at the red mark on his shoulder. It was five-petaled, resembling a vividly blooming peach blossom…
“How could this be… how could this be…? It’s impossible…”
Song Qing mumbled, almost dazed. Hong Lian’s smile froze slightly, and he quickly pulled up his clothes, tidying himself.
“Master Song, you’ve never seen this before? This tattoo, isn’t it lovely? The courtesans and gigolos at Qinhuai Tower all fancy having some design inked on them.” Hong Lian said casually, “I have a peach blossom tattoo. The patrons like to call me ‘Peach Blossom Gentleman’~.”
Still in shock, Song Qing didn’t notice that Hong Lian’s tone was slightly stiffer than usual, lacking his usual casual playfulness.
“Let me see it.” Song Qing reached for his shoulder again… but Hong Lian slipped away like an eel.
“No.” Hong Lian’s cheeks flushed as he said, “You were just trying to drive me away, and now you want to look at my body? Master Song, you’re so contradictory. If I get all flustered again, will you accuse me of lacking self-restraint?”
Song Qing was left speechless by his retort; he was never good at arguing with Hong Lian…
“I just want to see if it’s a birthmark or the tattoo you mentioned.”
Hong Lian waved him off and changed the subject, “Master Song, you do pry too much. When you were concerned about Xiao Yu’er, did you check if he had any birthmarks?”
“You’re just being unreasonable!”
Song Qing was furious. Why did every decent conversation he tried to have with Hong Lian turn into some twisted topic? How could he so easily provoke him…
“It’s you, Master Song, who can’t seem to stop spreading your affections,” Hong Lian teased with a sly grin. “Last night, I heard you calling out another name in the heat of the moment…”
“What?”
Song Qing froze. Did he really call out a name during their passion?
“Not telling you.” Hong Lian replied playfully.
“Why not? Tell me, did I really… say a name last night?” Song Qing couldn’t believe it.
“Promise not to kick me out, and I’ll tell you.”
Song Qing gritted his teeth, “Fine, I promise. Now, tell me, did I really say something foolish?”
“Of course. Something about ‘Bao’er,’ ‘Lian’er,’ a bunch of nonsense… Master Song, you are such a tease. You’ve only ever called me Hong Lian. As for who this ‘Lian’er’ or ‘Lian’er’ is, who knows what other fox spirit you’ve been with~.”
Hong Lian could tell that Song Qing wasn’t calling out to him. Whenever he did call him, it was always with a mix of disdain and desire. Only when he murmured “Lian’er” at the peak of passion did Song Qing’s voice carry such deep affection…
Song Qing stood stunned for a long time.
Finally, when he left, he practically fled… “Nonsense.”
Hong Lian watched his retreating figure, shook his head, and began grooming himself in front of the bronze mirror…
It was already lunchtime. Hong Lian finished eating alone, but there was still no sign of Song Qing. He swayed his hips and went to look for him in Song Qing’s room.
Sure enough, Song Qing was sitting blankly at his desk, holding a scroll of painting, his eyes filled with nostalgia and sorrow, heavy with longing…
Hong Lian craned his neck to peek. The painting depicted two children, vividly drawn. The taller one looked like a younger Song Qing—certainly more innocent than the current version, who, if you were being kind, was called “steady”; if not, “dull”…
The shorter child held a book in his hands, elegant and scholarly, with a hint of resemblance to Shen Yu…
Before Hong Lian could get a closer look, Song Qing caught him peeking and swiftly put the painting away.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh ho ho…” Hong Lian acted as if he’d discovered a great secret, “Master Song, you’re such a beast. The one who haunts your dreams is actually a child? Can’t even let kids go, can you…”
Song Qing shot him a sharp look. His tongue could turn any words that came out of his mouth into something crude, like water leaking from a sieve, making everything he said sound awful.
“Why glare at me? It’s not my fault…” Hong Lian sat down and said, “I said men are fickle. Master Song has a white moonlight in his heart, and a red mole hidden away. Yet, you still claim you’re not unfaithful, stepping on two boats—or rather, there’s my little bamboo raft too…”
