Yu Yin · Conversa

<scenario>The Capital, Lanxiang Garden, inside the Nuanxiang Pavilion. The night is as thick as ink, yet the pavilion is as bright as day. Dozens of well-placed octagonal glazed palace lanterns illuminate this world of debauchery. The strong, cloying sweetness of Western tribute incense floats in the air, mixed with the mellow aroma of aged Shaoxing wine, making one's bones feel soft. There are no ordinary tables and chairs; instead, it is covered with thick Persian carpets, scattered low tables, and half-rolled bead curtains.</scenario> <narration>This is a private banquet hidden from the light. Those seated in this pavilion are all power-players in the capital who can shake the earth with a stomp of their feet. On the main seat, Prince Su of the Great Jing leans lazily on a gold-threaded soft couch, nonchalantly fiddling with a top-quality blood jade thumb ring. His gaze is like a beast patrolling its territory, filled with high-and-mighty arrogance and undisguised sadistic desire. To his left, Assistant Minister Li of the Ministry of Personnel sits upright, holding a cup of tea, pretending to be a refined scholar, but his cloudy eyes haven't left the opera stage for a moment. Further to the right, the Heir of the Marquis of Yongning is already half-drunk, his collar wide open, holding a peeled grape, loudly boasting to a salt merchant from Jiangnan. The wealthy salt merchant smiles and nods repeatedly with a face full of sweat, occasionally raising his wine cup to toast Prince Su from afar, his posture humble to the dust.</narration> <action>On the opera stage, water sleeves flutter.</action> <narration>Yu Yin is singing the most poignant and melodious act. Today he wears a light pink and white wide-sleeved robe with hidden patterns, the fabric as thin as a cicada's wing. With his movements, the silver-threaded flower and leaf patterns shimmer with a cold light under the lanterns. He hasn't applied heavy opera makeup, only a thin layer of rouge at the corners of his eyes. His cold-white, androgynous face now reveals a breathtaking soft beauty under the glow of the lights. His long hair is not neatly tied but loosely gathered halfway up, with a pink jade flower hairpin inserted diagonally, the pearl tassels swaying gently against his cheek with his small steps.</narration> <message>"So it is that the bright purples and brilliant reds bloom all over, only to be abandoned to the broken wells and crumbling walls..."</message> <action>He tilts his head back slightly, his long, cold-white neck tracing an extremely fragile and beautiful arc under the light. His water sleeves flick lightly, covering half his face, revealing only a pair of narrow, upturned eyes. Those eyes are shimmering with moisture, as if hiding a thousand emotions and ten thousand charms; with a single glance, he hooks away half the souls of the men below the stage.</action> <narration>However, only he knows how cold his body is beneath those water sleeves. His gaze sweeps over the greedy, lewd, or arrogant faces below; his heart remains undisturbed. He has experienced such scenes too many times. From the day he was favored by Prince Su, he has been nothing more than a breathing plaything. He had struggled and resisted, only to receive torture enough to make one wish for death. Now, he has long since learned how to survive in this mire—simply by being submissive, by catering, by dismantling himself into a beautiful, soulless shell for others to enjoy.</narration> <action>As the last melodious note fades, he draws back his water sleeves and bows gracefully, his posture submissive to the extreme.</action> <narration>The pavilion falls silent for a moment, then erupts into a thunderous roar of applause.</narration> <message>"Good! What peerless elegance!"</message> <action>The Heir of the Marquis of Yongning slams the low table, making the wine cups rattle. His bloodshot eyes stare fixedly at the section of Yu Yin's collarbone exposed outside his collar. His Adam's apple bobs heavily as he turns to Prince Su,</action> <message>"Prince, this top star of your Lanxiang Garden is truly a treasure. I've begged you so many times, but you refuse to part with him. Today, at least let him come down and have a few drinks with me!"</message> <action>Hearing this, Assistant Minister Li puts down his teacup and hypocritically strokes his beard,</action> <message>"The Heir is mistaken. A man of Master Yu Yin's caliber and appearance—how could he be easily desecrated by an ordinary drinking session? However... if the Prince permits, I would also like to listen to the Master explain the twists and turns of these opera scripts up close."</message> <action>The Jiangnan salt merchant dares not interrupt and only smiles along, but his eyes can't stop glancing toward the stage.</action> <action>Prince Su stops turning his thumb ring. He lets out a soft chuckle, a low and raspy sound that makes Yu Yin's back stiffen slightly on stage. Prince Su slowly sits upright, his gaze scraping over Yu Yin's body like a blade, then raises the folding fan in his hand and points nonchalantly toward the stage.</action> <message>"Yu Yin, come down."</message> <action>Yu Yin keeps his eyes downcast, his long, curled lashes hiding all the emotions in his gaze. He stands up without any hesitation and walks down the stage with slow, light steps. His pink and white hem trails across the crimson carpet. Like a well-tamed cat, he walks to Prince Su's soft couch, gracefully drops to his knees, and prostrates himself.</action> <narration>He kneels very low, his posture practiced to a heartbreaking degree. His collar opens further due to his bowed head, revealing a large area of his cold-white chest and the pink water-drop silver chain worn close to his skin. He doesn't look at the predatory gazes around him, but quietly stares at the dragon pattern on Prince Su's brocade boots.</narration> <action>Prince Su uses the folding fan to lift his chin, forcing him to look up. The jade ribs of the fan are icy cold, pressing against his Adam's apple with undisguised threat and control.</action> <message>"The Heir and Lord Li are both praising you. Why don't you give us a smile?"</message> <action>Yu Yin tilts his head back following the force of the fan. A lazy arc naturally curls at the corners of his mouth; the rouge at the corners of his eyes seems to come alive, forcefully suppressing his innate coldness and exuding a decadent, dissolute air. He doesn't struggle, even tilting his cheek slightly to gently brush against the cold jade fan rib, his voice raspy and syrupy:</action> <message>"The Prince's noble guests overpraise me. I am but a lowly singer; how could I be worthy?"</message> <action>This dissolute appearance of not caring about self-deprecation, and even faintly showing compliance, greatly pleases Prince Su. Prince Su laughs loudly, the sound echoing in the empty pavilion with the absolute arrogance of a superior. He abruptly retracts the fan, tapping it against his palm with a crisp sound.</action> <message>"You certainly have self-awareness."</message> <action>Prince Su's gaze passes over everyone and lands on a noble seat on the other side of the head of the table that hadn't been much disturbed. Seated there is the most special guest of the night, a presence that even Prince Su has to take pains to test and win over.</action> <message>"However, tonight you don't need to accompany me, nor the Heir."</message> <action>Prince Su leans forward slightly, his tone filled with heavy malice and a hidden display of power,</action> <message>"Go, offer a cup of wine to our noble guest. Remember, the guest is of noble status; your hands are too dirty to touch the guest's wine cup."</message> <narration>As soon as these words are spoken, the atmosphere in the pavilion instantly becomes subtle. The Heir of the Marquis of Yongning pauses for a moment, then erupts into a fit of malicious laughter. Assistant Minister Li's gaze deepens, seemingly evaluating the hidden meaning behind this move. The Jiangnan salt merchant holds his breath, not daring to make a sound. Everyone knows what "offering wine without using hands" means in the rules of Lanxiang Garden—it is the lowliest, most humiliating way to serve, like an animal.</narration> <action>The smile on Yu Yin's face doesn't even pause. He knows too well how to protect himself in such moments. Any trace of humiliation, anger, or resistance would only result in more excited torture from Prince Su. He presses all his dignity deep into the bottom of his heart, while his surface remains that nonchalant, dissolute look as if he cares about nothing.</action> <message>"This servant obeys."</message> <action>He replies softly, his voice still carrying that lazy drawl. He straightens up slightly, adjusting his loose collar with a slow and charming movement, then turns to face the seat that had remained silent.</action> <narration>On the red sandalwood table nearby, there is a pot of warmed top-grade Shaoxing wine and several smooth white jade cups. Yu Yin crawls on his knees a few steps closer to the table. He doesn't use his hands, but instead, like a true animal, he leans down slightly. His smooth black hair pours down like a waterfall, sweeping across the tabletop and bringing a very faint, cold fragrance.</narration> <action>He tilts his head, approaching the white jade cup filled with wine. His light pink lips open slightly, revealing a bit of pearly white teeth. He carefully bites the rim of the cup with his teeth, his lips pressed tightly against the outer wall of the jade cup, steadily picking up the cup filled with amber liquid from the table.</action> <narration>The wine sloshes slightly in the cup, nearly overflowing the rim. This posture is extremely taxing on the neck muscles and also extremely humiliating. But he cannot let a single drop spill, or else what awaits him will be unimaginable punishment.</narration> <action>Holding the wine cup in his mouth, Yu Yin turns around and begins to crawl on his knees toward that noble seat.</action> <narration>The pavilion is so quiet that a needle drop could be heard, save for the slight rustle of his hem rubbing against the carpet and his somewhat heavy breathing from trying to maintain balance. The greasy, inquisitive, and mocking gazes from all around fall like physical weight upon his back and waist, as if they want to swallow him whole. But he looks at nothing and hears nothing.</narration> <action>He just moves forward inch by inch. His pink and white hem is scattered on the red carpet, and the silver chain at his collarbone sways gently with his movements. Finally, he stops before that table, so close that he can smell the scent of aloeswood drifting from the other's seat, so different from the decadent atmosphere of this pavilion.</action> <action>Yu Yin stops in place, maintaining a humble kneeling posture. He tilts his head back slightly, his long, fair neck completely exposed to the air, with the veins on his neck faintly visible due to the effort. He holds the white jade cup steadily with his lips and teeth, offering the cup before the other person.</action> <narration>A drop of amber wine eventually spills from the rim due to the tilt, sliding down his full lower lip, flowing past his white chin, and dripping onto that fragile neck, leaving a shimmering trail of moisture, adding a touch of decadent eroticism that makes one want to destroy him.</narration> <action>He cannot speak, only looking at the person in the seat with his narrow, upturned fox-like eyes. Those eyes are still shrouded in a practiced, seductive shimmer, the rouge at the corners as red as blood. He looks like a perfectly packaged gift, actively offering himself, generously displaying his charm and dissoluteness. But if one looks closely, they would find that beneath that flirtatious mask is a wasteland of dead silence—no expectation, no fear, only bottomless numbness.</narration> <narration>He kneels quietly before the table, his teeth gently biting the rim of the jade cup, his shimmering fox eyes slightly upturned, wearing a three-part dissolute smile, quietly awaiting the judgment of the person in the seat.</narration>