Silent Lover (The Silent Concubine) - Chap 159
Hong Lian tossed and turned in bed for two hours without falling asleep. He walked into the courtyard and saw Song Qing sitting in the rain pavilion from afar. Even from a distance, the pungent smell of alcohol was apparent.
Hong Lian swayed over, and when Song Qing saw it was him, he only gave him a cold look before turning his head away.
“Oh, is Lord Song drowning his sorrows in alcohol…?” Kicking aside an empty wine gourd on the ground with his embroidered shoes, Hong Lian sat down next to Song Qing and reached out.
“Let me have a sip too.”
Song Qing ignored him, taking another gulp on his own. Seeing him this tipsy, Hong Lian judged he was already half-drunk, so he reached out and snatched the wine gourd, tilting his head back to drink.
The strong liquor burned his throat, making Hong Lian cough violently, his head throbbing and his eyes welling up with tears.
“Cough, cough—Lord Song, are you drinking or trying to kill yourself?” Unable to handle such strong sorghum liquor, Hong Lian handed the gourd back. Song Qing remained silent, taking another swig for himself.
Hong Lian leaned closer, raising his brows with a mischievous smile. “Not worried I’ll drug you this time?”
Sure enough, Song Qing’s hand paused, a flash of vigilance crossing his face. But since he had brought the wine himself, there was no way Hong Lian could have tampered with it right in front of him.
“Why aren’t you talking? The night is long, whether you’re drinking alone or at a banquet, it’s still drinking,” Hong Lian said, using his sleeve to fan his reddened face. “Why not treat it as a night of entertainment and chat with me?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
Song Qing’s breath, heavy with alcohol, wafted towards Hong Lian’s face, making him retreat and cover his nose.
“Let’s talk about that little fox spirit you can’t forget.”
“Don’t you dare speak of him like that!” Song Qing yelled, slurring his words. “He… he was the best person in the world.”
Hong Lian chuckled and asked, “How so? Better than me?”
Song Qing turned his face, glaring disdainfully. “How could you compare to him?”
The look in his eyes was like seeing a sparrow, dreaming of matching a lofty swan.
Hong Lian’s smile grew broader as he said, “Maybe I’m not worse than him. I’m more skilled in many things.”
“He knew music, strategy, and literature… even his master praised him as a prodigy, once in a hundred years.”
Song Qing’s gaze turned distant, a smile unconsciously forming as he recalled Lian’er.
Hong Lian sneered, flicking his sleeve dismissively. “I can sing and play music too. Could he sing the Eighteenth Touch?”
Song Qing’s drunken eyes were confused. “What… what Eighteenth Touch?”
“Listen!” Hong Lian cleared his throat and started singing in a sharp voice, “Stretch out your hand and touch, ah… touch your sister’s head… touch, ah… touch your sister’s buttocks…”
At first, Song Qing was confused, but when Hong Lian reached the part about buttocks, he finally understood—it was a bawdy song from the brothel. Ashamed and angry, Song Qing roughly pushed away Hong Lian’s teasing hand.
“What… what nonsense is this?! Shameless!” Song Qing scolded, “I’m talking about the skills of a gentleman!”
“Playing the flute and blowing the pipe?” Hong Lian said smugly. “I’m even better at that. Doesn’t Lord Song know it well?”
Song Qing’s face flushed instantly, rendered speechless for a moment.
“He’s not like you. He was a true gentleman, warm and courteous. Your head is filled with brothel filth! You… you aren’t even worthy of comparing to him!”
In his fury, Song Qing’s tone grew severe, truly angered by Hong Lian. Comparing Hong Lian to Lian’er was an insult to Lian’er.
“Oh, so that’s why you wanted to dig a hole in the walls of the Northern Marquis’ estate. You like this sort of thing…”
“Stop your nonsense!”
Song Qing had only seen a shadow of Lian’er in Shen Yu—something faintly similar, which made him treat Shen Yu with special care, as if to express his lingering grief.
“If he were still alive, he’d be the purest, most perfect person in the world…”
“Bah, I think you’re seeing through rose-colored glasses,” Hong Lian sneered. “What good are those skills? No matter how much you long for him, in the end, it’s me you share a bed with. Did you ever… do that with him?”
Song Qing snorted, not wanting to waste words. He and Lian’er used to be inseparable, sharing everything, but he and Hong Lian had nothing in common. That was the difference.
“Your little childhood friend has probably already reincarnated. Give up on him.”
“Shut up!”
Song Qing shouted, his temples throbbing as the alcohol coursed through him, his head beginning to pound.
“Lian’er—Lian’er…”
If only he were still alive…
Song Qing’s expression darkened, lost in deep regret and self-blame. But he was gone, perhaps as Hong Lian said, long since dead and dispersed. If only he had been by Lian’er’s side back then, nothing would have happened to him.
Song Qing’s eyes turned red. He could never forget the sight of Lian’er’s family destroyed, his entire household executed…
