The others saw You Miao as an easy target, but he was clear-headed and often reminded himself that his father had sent him to the capital to study and pass the imperial exams, to make connections with a few young troublemakers, and to have influential people in the court who could help him when needed. Someday, he would use silver to solve problems and grease the wheels.
With a smile, You Miao looked at everyone and said, "How about going to Yangfeng Tower to listen to music?"
Everyone enthusiastically agreed, and Li Yan, who was in a bad mood, initially seemed ready to quarrel with You Miao, but within moments, he was laughing along, as young men often do—quick to forget and eager to enjoy the moment. By midday, they were all hanging out together again.
After eating and drinking, as the sun began to set, You Miao made his way home but suddenly remembered the incident he had seen earlier in the morning. Curious, he asked Li Yan about it. Li Yan casually replied, "Oh, that's a dog-rong slave. Last time we went to the Music Bureau, we saw him and decided to buy him."
Music Bureau? Dog-rong slave?
You Miao was about to ask what that meant when Li Yan, with a swagger, turned and walked off to his own home.
---
A few days later, Li Yan was celebrating his birthday. When You Miao arrived at his house for the banquet, the gates were crowded with people. You Miao, as usual, walked in confidently through the back yard of the Prime Minister's mansion. There, he saw several servants beating a burlap sack with sticks. Blood was seeping out from the sack, staining the snow in the courtyard, and muffled cries of pain echoed from inside.
It had gotten cold, and You Miao paused for a moment, hands tucked into his sleeves, to watch. A servant kept urging him to go inside, as the weather was getting colder.
Curious, You Miao asked, "What are you doing?"
One of the servants grinned and said, "The young master ordered this. Today, we're going to beat this man to death."
The sack fell silent.
You Miao asked again, "Why are you beating him to death?"
The servant shrugged. "He offended the young master."
The Prime Minister's family had enough power to dispose of anyone without consequence, and since the man was a slave, no one would care. However, You Miao was puzzled. Li Yan wasn't the kind of person who would kill for no reason. The dog-rong slave had been bought with money, and once they got tired of him, they could just sell him or give him away. Why go through the trouble of killing him?
You Miao entered the main hall where the birthday feast was being held. The room was full of people, noisy and festive, with a small stage set up for a performance. Many people recognized You Miao and teased him playfully as he placed his gift on the table. He immediately asked, "Why are you killing that man outside?"
Li Yan, who was drinking, barely paid attention and replied lazily, "Because I want to."
You Miao didn't know why, but he found himself unusually concerned about the sack. He casually commented, "Throwing a birthday party and killing someone? How unlucky."
Li Yan replied, "I told them to go easy. We can kill him tomorrow, then bury him outside the city."
You Miao scolded him, "Why make things so complicated? If you don't like him, just let him go."
Li Yan's face darkened with anger. "I want to do it."
"Fine, fine," You Miao surrendered, not intending to argue further, but Li Yan shot him a glare and asked, "What did he say to you?"
You Miao said, "He didn't say anything."
Ping Er, the second son of the Minister of Revenue, leaned in and said, "You Miao, what about you? Want me to take you to the Music Bureau to buy one?"
Li Yan scoffed. "Him? It would be a miracle if he wasn't sold to the Music Bureau."
You Miao asked, "What exactly is this person?"
Li Yan leaned in and whispered in his ear, "He's a bed companion. A man."
In that instant, You Miao blushed. He wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or the heat in the hall, but his face turned bright red, all the way to his ears. The young masters all laughed at him, teasing him for his youthful appearance. You Miao grinned mischievously and looked at Li Yan, saying, "So you're into that?"
Li Yan, slightly irritated, retorted, "What's wrong with that? It's my birthday today. Do you want to join me?"
The room burst into laughter, with some of the onlookers—who secretly harbored resentments towards You Miao—taking the opportunity to make a sly remark.
"Not sure who's really the one lying in bed with whom!"
The crowd roared with laughter. Li Yan's face turned red with embarrassment, but You Miao, clearly enjoying himself, smiled even more. After a few more rounds of drinks, as they listened to the opera, You Miao saw a martial artist and a young scholar performing a song while spinning around the stage. He couldn't help but remember what Li Yan had said earlier. He leaned over to Li Yan and asked curiously, "I know what a woman's bed companion is, but how does a man become one?"
Li Yan, now clearly frustrated, snapped, "Are you done? Do you really want to become a bed companion?"
You Miao grinned and said, "Let me try it out. I want to see what it's like."
Li Yan, slightly annoyed, replied, "That dog-rong slave had his face ruined by me. Next time, I'll take you to buy a better one."
You Miao asked, "Why is he called a dog-rong slave?"
Li Yan responded, "He's from the northern tribes, caught by the soldiers."
You Miao pressed further, "Why was his face ruined?"
Li Yan, scowling, replied, "I did it."
You Miao asked again, "Why did you beat him?"
Li Yan glared at him, but You Miao simply smiled. Every time he asked these questions, he did so with such a playful grin that no one could take him seriously.
Li Yan finally snapped, "He wouldn't talk, so I made him talk. When he refused, I shoved my shoes in his mouth, made him eat dirt on the floor. He had the audacity to fight back, so I smashed a vase over him and locked him up."
You Miao understood, knowing that Li Yan had probably gotten a good beating in return. It seemed that the dog-rong slave had fought back fiercely, perhaps even striking Li Yan. As the opera continued, You Miao's curiosity about the whole affair only deepened. He was eager to find out more about how Li Yan and the slave had interacted. Men could do such things too? His curiosity piqued, he began thinking about how to acquire that man, if only to ask more about the details from Li Yan.
In the midst of the lively opera, where one performer would exit as another entered, it wasn't until half an hour later that You Miao casually spoke up, "Hey, Li Yan, why don't you lend me that dog-rong slave to play with?"
Li Yan sneered, "He's dead already. In a few days, I'll take you to buy a new one."
You Miao retorted, "He might not be dead yet. Didn't you just say you'll kill him tomorrow morning and bury him outside?"
Li Yan growled, "If he's not dead, he's as good as gone."
You Miao smirked, "Then why buy a new one? It's a waste. I just want to play for a bit, then I'll return him. You can beat him or bury him, whatever you like."
Li Yan snapped, "No."
You Miao pressed, "Just for a few days."
Li Yan glared at him, anger rising. "You really want to cross me, don't you?"
At that moment, someone overheard and teased, "Young Master You's family is big and rich, he can just go to the Music Bureau and buy a hundred or more slaves. Why bother with a worthless one?"
You Miao, not taking it seriously, laughed it off. But when Li Yan's words struck a nerve, he shot back, "What, I can't buy him? Two hundred taels of silver isn't a big deal."
Li Yan, eyes narrowing, thought to himself that he should have asked for more.
You Miao continued, "It's just two hundred taels. You think I can't afford that?" He couldn't help himself, adding, "The money for a night at Yangfeng Tower is probably more than that."
Li Yan, taking the bait, said, "Two hundred taels! Can you even afford that? If you can pull out two hundred taels, I'll let you have him."
The crowd of young masters, seeing the back-and-forth escalating, began to stir. It was typical for You Miao and Li Yan to banter like this, but things seemed to be getting a bit tense. One of the onlookers commented, "Why argue over this? A male slave from the Music Bureau costs only five taels. No need to make a big deal."
Others added, "Today is the birthday boy's day, let's not let it spoil the mood."
But You Miao, in the heat of the moment, took out a silver note and slapped it on the table, declaring, "Done. I'll buy him."
Li Yan froze for a moment, not expecting such a response, then became furious. "I never said I was selling him to you!"
The room fell silent, and everyone was shocked. Two hundred taels of silver could buy a grand residence or a large plot of land in the capital. The head courtesan at Yangfeng Tower had a redemption price of only 120 taels. Buying a male slave for 200 taels was unheard of.
Li Yan stared at You Miao, stunned.
Seeing the tension rising, the group of young masters quickly jumped in, trying to ease the situation. Some suggested it was unnecessary to argue, while others pointed out that the birthday boy should be given a smooth celebration.
But You Miao, realizing the gravity of the situation, had made an impulsive move. While he couldn't back down now, his face turned from frustration to a devil-may-care grin. "What? You can't bear it now?"
Li Yan growled, "Take him if you want. But if you do, I'm telling you, don't blame me when your uncle gets wind of this. And you're wasting your money on that trash."
You Miao didn't respond further. The atmosphere in the room was now awkward and tense, and as a few more people rushed to flatter Li Yan, You Miao, feeling his temper flare, decided to leave early, without a word to Li Yan.
When he stepped outside, the snow had begun to fall, and there, in the snow-covered courtyard, lay the burlap sack. It was still, and You Miao couldn't tell if the man inside was dead or alive. Anxiety gnawed at him. Two hundred taels couldn't be wasted like this.
"You didn't kill him, did you?" You Miao asked, his voice tight. "If he's dead, you're paying me back the full two hundred taels. I'm serious!"
The servants, terrified, didn't know how to respond. They trembled in fear as You Miao commanded, "Unbind the sack. Let me see!"
One of the bolder servants quickly came forward, loosening the ropes around the sack's mouth and nervously explaining, "Young Master, please don't blame us. No one told us to do this. We didn't know what was going on…"
You Miao, now more concerned, said, "Let me see if he's really dead. If he is, then forget it, I'll just go back and ask Li Yan for my money."
The servant lifted the sack, revealing a bloodied head. The man inside was badly beaten, with blood flowing from his seven orifices. Despite the brutality of the beating, the man's body was solid and muscular, his limbs long. As the sack was pulled away, the man's body was revealed, soaked in blood, with feces and urine staining the snow beneath him.
One of the servants knelt to check for a pulse, and You Miao anxiously asked, "Is he dead?"
But then a thought struck You Miao. Li Yan had only said the slave was to be sold to him, but he hadn't clarified whether the man was alive or dead. If he were to return and demand his money back, Li Yan would likely mock him for it. Whether the man was alive or dead, he had no choice but to accept the situation.
It was a tricky situation.
You Miao knelt down beside the man, listening carefully for any sign of life. The body still had warmth, and a faint heartbeat could be heard.
Alive.
Relief washed over You Miao as he said, "Get a few people to wrap him in the cushions from the carriage. Take him back to my house. What's his name?"
One of the servants, seeing that You Miao wasn't angry anymore, quickly replied, "His name is Li Zhi Feng. He's a dog-rong slave."
You Miao motioned for them to get moving. As the servants scurried to gather him up, You Miao couldn't help but wonder how his life had gotten so entangled with Li Yan and this strange slave. Things were getting more complicated by the day.