Prince Bei Jing of the Red Chamber, starting from saving Qin Keqing

Zhu Changming stood frozen in place, his clear eyes wide with shock, his mind reeling—the Shui Rong he had known since childhood...

He was a virtuous prince who was gentle, modest, and self-disciplined in the court. He was respectful to his father, gentle to his subjects, and even his speech was dignified and measured, befitting a member of the imperial family.

But the man before them, dressed in a moon-white brocade robe reeking of alcohol, was tilting his head back and chugging down cup after cup of strong liquor from a rough porcelain bowl.

He was shouting and yelling at a shirtless street urchin, speaking in a thick northern accent, slapping the table and laughing wildly.

If it weren't for the expensive fabric of his clothes and the contours of his eyes and brows, he would have mistaken him for a street urchin.

He feigned illness and did not attend the morning court assembly. Rumors circulated in the palace that Prince Bei Jing had berated the Tatar and Oirat envoys in the Fengtian Hall, using vulgar language and displaying no gentlemanly conduct.

He had thought it was just someone exaggerating, but seeing it with his own eyes today, he realized that the rumors were absolutely true—this Uncle Wang's wild and rough nature had always been tightly wrapped up by rules.

"Uncle Wang... I really can't drink anymore!"

Zhu Changming gripped the wine bowl tightly, his knuckles white, his face flushed red from ear tips to neck. He looked up at Zhu pitifully, begging for mercy, his voice trembling with tears.

"I was wrong. I'll never laugh at you for being jealous again, and I won't gossip about your private affairs. Please let me go back! If Father finds out I went to that den of iniquity, he'll skin me alive!"

Shui Rong wiped the wine stains from the corner of her mouth, waved her hand dismissively, and spoke in a loud voice that drowned out the music playing downstairs:

"What are you afraid of! If they really want to hold you accountable, I'll kneel with you in the Imperial Study tomorrow to beg for forgiveness. With me taking responsibility, do you think your father would really punish you to death?"

After saying that, he turned to Hong Niangzi and winked teasingly, "Little Hong, this kid is stubborn and needs to be taught a lesson. You guys, give our young prince a good massage to loosen up his muscles and put an end to his arrogance!"

The matchmaker slapped her thigh and laughed loudly, her charming face full of mischief, as she waved to the plump and pretty girls behind her:

"Sisters, the Prince has spoken! Let's bring out our culinary skills and serve our precious young prince well!"

Several girls surrounded her, all wearing short silk jackets with half-open necklines, their breasts slightly exposed, their snow-white skin dazzling, their bodies exuding the fragrance of perfume mixed with the scent of soap.

Zhu Changming had been disciplined and proper in the palace since childhood, and the concubines and maids all behaved with propriety and dignity. He had never seen such a scene before, and his whole body tensed up instantly, and his breathing became disordered.

Pairs of warm, delicate hands either massaged his stiff shoulders or stroked his tense legs, while others knelt down and gently touched his ankles and insteps with their fingertips.

The warm touch seeped through his clothes, and Zhu Changming shivered violently, shrinking back towards Shui Rong in a panic, his voice trembling:

"Uncle Wang... what is this? I... I feel so uncomfortable..."

Although he had a rudimentary understanding of matters between men and women, he had never experienced such close physical contact.

The boy's surging blood and inner turmoil intertwined with his embarrassment, and he thought something had happened to him, leaving him at a loss.

Shui Rong glanced at him, her tone as calm as ever:

"This is perfectly normal. Young people have abundant blood and energy, so it's natural for them to have some fire in their bodies. If they don't react at all, then it's because their bodies are weak."

He casually pointed to the pink-clad Cui'er who was squatting on the ground, "Come here and massage the acupoints on the soles of the young prince's feet. Let's see if my nephew is weak or just pretending."

Cui'er nodded sweetly, took Zhu Changming's ankle and placed it on her knee, then pressed her fingertips precisely on an acupoint and gently massaged it.

"ah--!"

Caught off guard, Zhu Changming felt a sharp pain and itching rush to his head, and he cried out in pain as his body suddenly froze.

Cui'er covered her mouth and giggled, her charmingly silly words tinged with teasing:

"Young Prince, this acupoint corresponds to the kidneys. Your reaction is so strong; could it be that you've been holding it in too much lately?"

The girls around him burst into laughter. Zhu Changming's face instantly turned as red as a ripe persimmon, even the roots of his neck were red. He wished he could bury his head in his clothes and didn't even have the courage to look up.

Shui Rong slammed her hand on the table and laughed, pointing at him and teasing, "Little guy, you dared to be stubborn just now, but now you know what's what? Today, let them give you a good taste of their anger."

He stood up, straightened his robes, and gave the instructions:

"I'm going to rest in the Moon Viewing Pavilion on the top floor. You can enjoy yourself here. Come up and find me when you're done."

He then turned to look at Hong Niangzi, his expression slightly serious, his tone carrying an unquestionable authority:

"Serving others is fine, but don't overstep boundaries. Massages are only for relaxation, understand?"

"We understand, Your Highness, please rest assured!" Hong Niangzi and the others replied in unison, knowing the bottom line of this Prince Bei Jing, and dared not make the slightest mistake.

Shui Rong stepped onto the top floor of the decadent brothel, a place completely different from the bustling area below, with elegant furnishings.

A sandalwood table and chairs are placed by the window, with plum blossoms reflecting the snow and the clear moonlight shining down, creating a tranquil and serene atmosphere.

The madam, who had been waiting in the pavilion, immediately knelt down, her voice extremely low and respectful: "Greetings, Master."

This madam was originally a secret guard left behind by the late Prince Bei Jing, Shui Yanchen, and she was in charge of the most core intelligence base of the Prince's mansion.

Shui Rong raised her hand to gesture for her to stand up, picked up her cup of light tea, took a sip, and asked calmly:

"How frequently have nobles, officials, and civil and military officials visited these two buildings these days? Has anything unusual happened?"

The madam hurriedly took out a small booklet with a black cover from her sleeve and presented it with both hands. The booklet was filled with names, official titles, times of arrival, companions, and even snippets of conversation during the meal, all written in tiny characters.

"Your Majesty, as the year draws to a close, our interactions have become increasingly frequent. We have been receiving visits from the Crown Prince's close advisors, officials from the Qin and Zhao courts, and senior officials from the Six Ministries almost every day."

"The booklet contains not only the names of the visitors, but also the names of our spies in various prefectures and government offices. Not a single message was missed."

"The staff in the two buildings do not know each other. They only contact me and Zhao Zhong to supervise each other. I have not changed the rules of the late prince in the slightest."

Shui Rong flipped through the booklet, her fingertips tracing the names one by one, a cold glint flashing in her eyes, before she nodded slightly.

"Well done, the covert operations were well-prepared. Father built those lavish dens and towers precisely to monitor the court and gather intelligence."

"After I took over, I transformed Wan Jin Lou into a high-class club for elegant banquets and musical performances, catering exclusively to high-ranking officials and nobles. I also kept the brothel for gathering information from the lower classes. By combining the refined and the vulgar, I could cover both the court and the public."

He closed the booklet and tossed it back to the madam, his tone indifferent yet revealing a ruthless decisiveness:

"After the New Year, I will head south to Jiangsu and Zhejiang. I have already informed all the shopkeepers about this."

"After I leave the capital, keep a close eye on everyone—the managers of the Prince's mansion. If there is any unusual activity or leak, do not report it. Deal with them directly, destroy the body, and leave no trace."

"Yes, madam!" The madam's heart skipped a beat, and she bowed in agreement.

Throughout the entire capital, no one knew that the two most bustling brothels were actually intelligence hideouts run by the Prince of Beijing's mansion for generations. This was the most secret trump card that Shui Yanchen left for Shui Rong.

He brought Zhu Changming here today for two reasons: first, he was annoyed by the boy's unrestrained teasing; second, he harbored a deeper purpose—the struggle for the throne was extremely dangerous.

He employs a variety of underhanded tactics and seductive schemes to expose this naive young man to the wickedness of human nature and teach him how to protect himself and survive.

About an hour later, unsteady footsteps came from the stairs.

Zhu Changming walked up with his head down and a look of embarrassment on his face. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his steps were a little weak.

He glared at Shui Rong, both angry and ashamed, his voice tinged with grievance:

"Uncle Wang, I was really wrong! You're utterly shameless! You couldn't win an argument, so you resorted to this kind of trick to torment me. I despise you!"

Shui Rong glanced at him, a playful smile playing on her lips, and slowly spoke:

"Ming'er, if you dare to talk about me again, wipe the rouge off your face before you say such things."

Zhu Changming touched his cheek, his fingertips tingling with a faint red rouge. He was instantly filled with shame and annoyance, and hurriedly wiped it off.

He snatched the teapot from the table, tilted his head back, and gulped down most of it before he could calm the burning sensation in his heart.

Shui Rong patted his back lightly, her smile undiminished: "How was it? Did you enjoy this treatment? I told you before, at your age you're too hot-tempered, you should marry a concubine and settle down, then you won't be in such a hurry."

"Stop, stop, stop! Uncle Wang, please stop!"

Zhu Changming covered his face and wailed, "I'll beg Father Emperor to grant me the marriage as soon as I get back to the palace. I'll never be stubborn again! You're so awful!"

Shui Rong laughed so hard she almost fell over, but it took her a while to stop. Her expression suddenly turned serious, and her voice became deep: "Laughing and joking aside, I didn't bring you here just to tease you."

Zhu Changming was taken aback, the grievance in his eyes disappeared, and he revealed doubt.

"The struggle for the throne has always been a life-or-death struggle, with no mercy whatsoever."

Shui Rong's gaze was sharp as a knife. "Your elder brother, the Prince of Qin, will go to Jizhou after the New Year. In the capital, only you and the Crown Prince will be left to confront each other."

"You grew up in the deep palace, living in an ivory tower, and have never seen such filth. Today, I'm letting you experience it firsthand so that it will be etched into your bones—how to keep your composure and how to deal with such situations, so that you don't lose your mind and fall into a trap."

Zhu Changming was deeply shaken. All his previous shame and anger vanished, leaving only a profound sense of clarity. He realized that this seemingly absurd act concealed such deep protection.

He asked in a low voice, "Then...did you bring my brother, the King of Qin, here before?"

Shui Rong shook her head: "No."

"Why?" Zhu Changming looked up, full of confusion.

"Your brother has some things he's never told you."

Shui Rong gazed at the moonlight outside the window, her tone calm.

"When your elder brother, the King of Qin, was ten years old, he was drugged with aphrodisiacs by a palace maid. The purpose was to ruin his reputation and make him completely withdraw from the competition for the throne."

"He was lucky to be saved by his trusted confidant, which prevented a major disaster. He kept this a secret for several years, afraid that you would be frightened, and also afraid of alerting the enemy."

"What?!"

Zhu Changming abruptly stood up, his face filled with disbelief, his voice trembling, "How is this possible? That's the palace! It's Father Emperor's residence. He's a prince of the imperial family, who would dare to be so audacious?"

Shui Rong scoffed, her disdain for the power struggles within the imperial harem evident in her voice.

"The imperial palace? Mothers and sons are at odds, concubines kill each other, and princes harm each other—that's the norm. For the power of the throne, there's no tactic they won't use."

He leaned forward, his tone suddenly becoming stern, his gaze fixed intently on Zhu Changming:

"That's why I brought you here today, to show you these women and these methods, so that you'll remember this feeling. I need someone to check the Crown Prince."

Zhu Changming was taken aback by the imposing presence, and instinctively bowed, his voice firm: "Yes, Uncle Wang, I understand!"

Shui Rong's expression softened, and she took out a plain-colored brocade pouch from her sleeve and tossed it to him. Inside the pouch was a pale pink powder with a faint, exotic fragrance.

"This is a potent aphrodisiac. Go back and secretly give it to the head of the Imperial Medical Academy, so that he can secretly develop an antidote. Keep a few doses on your person."

"After the King of Qin and I left, we were on guard against any suspicious food or incense in the palace or at banquets. If there was an antidote, we would have an extra life."

Zhu Changming gripped the brocade pouch tightly with both hands, bowed deeply, and said in a sincere and fervent voice, "Thank you for your guidance, Uncle Wang! I am deeply grateful!"

The moonlight shone on the two of them; the noise downstairs was faint, while the upstairs was quiet.