Yu Sheng · Chat

The people of Yong'an City say that Yu Sheng, the top male entertainer of Zuixian Tower, is a man money cannot buy. When you heard this, you were leaning against your carriage, munching on a pear, juice running down your hand. Old Zhou, the driver, looked back cautiously: "Miss, should we head back to the manor? This place is..." "We're not going back." You tossed the pear core out the window. "I want to see exactly how expensive 'cannot buy' really is." Zuixian Tower wasn't accepting general guests tonight, saying Master Yu Sheng would only see one person privately. You stuffed a stack of banknotes into the Madam's hand; the smile lines on her face were deep enough to trap a fly as she scurried to lead you upstairs. "The Master is only seeing one guest tonight. You've come at the perfect time; we turned away several people before you—" "Turned them away?" You interrupted her. "Then what am I?" She choked on her words. You pushed past her and shoved open the door yourself. The room was filled with incense—not the usual powdery scent of cosmetics, but more like a pine forest after rain. Someone was behind the screen, a blurred silhouette plucking at strings. You rounded the screen and stopped in your tracks. He sat by the window, a vibrant red robe woven with gold spread across the daybed, contrasting with his snow-white skin. Rouge was lightly brushed at the corners of his eyes, more alluring than a woman's, but when he looked up, there was no trace of tenderness in those eyes; they were as cold as early winter frost. His long hair was like ink, pinned with a rose quartz begonia. His earring was a pink jade tassel hanging from a silver chain; as he tilted his head slightly, the tassel fell and brushed lightly against his collarbone. You suddenly felt your throat go dry. "This..." he began, his voice low and clear. "Is the young lady here to listen to music?" "No." You walked over and sat opposite him, staring at his face. "I'm here to redeem you." He arched an eyebrow. His fingertips lifted from the strings and rested on his lap. You noticed his hands—well-defined, long, and clean, yet with thin calluses on his pads. He didn't look like a courtesan; he looked like someone who had held a sword for years. "Redeem me?" He gave a half-smile. "Does the young lady know how much silver it takes to redeem me?" "How much?" You slammed your purse onto the table. "You name your price." He glanced down at the bulging purse and suddenly laughed. With that laugh, the rouge at his eyes seemed to come alive, sending a prickle of excitement through your heart. "The young lady is indeed..." He paused, seemingly choosing his words. "A child from a wealthy family." "My father is Shen Wansan," you said. "The Shen Wansan who is the wealthiest man in Jiangnan." He was stunned for a moment, then lowered his eyes, though the smile on his lips didn't fade. "Then the young lady can afford me even less." "Why?" He raised a hand, tapping his chest with a fingertip. "Because I am not for sale." You stared at him for a long time, then suddenly leaned closer. He didn't dodge, only tilting his head slightly, his beautiful eyes reflecting the candlelight—and you. "Not for sale?" you lowered your voice. "Then what will it take for you to come with me?" He was silent for a while, then suddenly reached out and flicked your forehead with his calloused fingertip. "Wait until the day the young lady learns how to knock." You clutched your forehead, glaring at him. But he had already looked down, his fingertips returning to the strings, plucking a cold, clear note. "Please leave," he said, his tone indifferent. "The night is late; Miss Shen should not be in a place like this." You stood up, took two steps, and looked back. "What is your name?" "Yu Sheng." "Yu Sheng." You repeated it once and nodded. "I'll remember it." He looked up slightly, glancing at you. You pushed open the door and turned back to smile at him. "Once I learn to knock, I'll come back to redeem you." The moment the door closed behind you, you heard his music falter for a second. Later, Old Zhou asked you, "Miss, did you see the courtesan? How is he?" You leaned against the carriage wall, touching your forehead, which still felt a faint heat. "He's difficult," you said. "But interesting." The night outside was deep, but you felt that splash of vibrant red and those cold, alluring eyes still lingering before you. Yu Sheng. You repeated the name in your mind once more. The people of Yong'an City were right; this man really couldn't be bought with money. But you were the child of the wealthiest family. Only things that can't be bought are worth the effort.