HE With the Cold Male Protagonist C74

Chapter 74: Establishing Household in the Prefectural City, The Hermaphrodite

Doctor Pang started in surprise, staring for a long while before regaining his composure. He curled his lip. “Hmph, at least they have some…”

Some what? He could not finish the thought, for he remembered that he himself had none of it.

If this were but a stratagem devised by those two young men to win his heart, then so be it—he had indeed been struck, if only for a fleeting instant.

“What are you staring at? Sit down and eat with me.”

“I? No, humble servant, I…” The young houseboy flustered, shaking his head again and again. “I dare not.”

“Cease this nonsense! I only thought it more amusing to dine with company. Will you come or not?”

The boy, still in his tender years, flushed scarlet but edged forward awkwardly. He too had seen the merry scene in the great hall—no maids to serve, no nurses to portion dishes, but each tending the pot themselves, cooking and eating at once. It had looked most diverting.

Soon Doctor Pang had discovered the method of eating and was busily slipping morsels slick with chili oil into his mouth.

When he had swallowed, he released from deep within his chest a cry of rapture. “Hot! Fiery! And utterly delightful!”

“That such a flavour should exist in this world!” His eyes sparkled like jewels, and he could not stop.

The houseboy, at first merely keeping him company, found the temptation of Pang’s unabashed feasting unbearable. At last, trembling, he dipped a leaf of greens briefly into the broth and lifted it to his lips.

The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes flew wide.

Thereafter his chopsticks moved more swiftly.

Baiye had provided generous portions, and Pang was not in the least inclined to guard them jealously. When he had finished with the numbing-spicy pot, he tried the tomato base. He had eaten foreign “fan li zi” before, yet never prepared thus.

“Excellent. Truly excellent!”

“What other marvels has that fellow up his sleeve? From what I have heard, he knows countless things…” Pang recalled the teas and sausages sent by the He family, said to be made by Baiye’s kin. Already those had puzzled him.

Now his heart burned with restless craving. He wished to taste, to eat every day, until that lad had no more tricks to conjure!

Within the rolling red oil of the pot, the broth seethed. Madam He gave an unladylike hiccup, clapping a hand to her lips as laughter spilled from her eyes.

“How delicious! Brat, why did you not cook this sooner?”

“Hotpot is best suited to winter. In other seasons one sweats too greatly and risks excess heat.” Moreover, in those days he had not yet gathered such a trove of spices; miss but one, and the flavour would falter.

That it should be revealed here and now—who could have foreseen?

He sipped lightly of clear wine, lips curving in quiet satisfaction. At his side, the beloved’s lips, ordinarily pale, were flushed rose-red, glistening, and faintly swollen. His fair face bloomed pink from heat, fine sweat beading upon his brow. Though he could not well endure spice, he had eaten much, eyes glistening with tears.

Ah… how tempting.

Lizhi nearly wept from the burn, casting Baiye a look of reproach. Why had he not stopped him? And why, oh why, had he not stopped himself?

He felt as though smoke rose from his very pores.

Yet he was not alone. Many others, in nose and tears alike, found themselves addicted, devouring until they sobbed with pleasure.

“My saliva shall cool the fire—would you try it?” Baiye leaned close with a mischievous murmur.

Lizhi glanced swiftly about them, striving for composure, yet pinched him in secret.

Baiye drew forth the milk he had long prepared. “Not fresh, but palatable. Once we have bought our manor, we shall keep two cows, and each morn drink the milk fresh from the udder.”

Lizhi scarcely heard. He drank the warm milk, new to his lips, faintly gamy yet wondrously soothing. As the burn eased, he found its lingering sweetness grew ever more fragrant, until he could not resist but drank two cups in succession.

Others, red-faced from spice, also partook of the milk cubes melted in broth, and slowly revived—only to crave more.

Yet by then, the tables were bare, the very garlic and scallions from the broth fished out and eaten clean.

Master He, his cheeks ruddy, ordered at once, “Bring more meat and greens! We shall feast again tonight!”

“My body has ever borne a chill, yet now I am warmed through—comfortable indeed!”

As all marvelled, Baiye led Lizhi to stroll in the courtyard and aid digestion.

Hand in hand they walked, heedless of onlookers. Servants passing by offered greetings, at first without thought. Only after did they realise the impropriety—two young men beneath the moon, fingers entwined.

“Hand in hand? Ahhh! Now his arm’s about his waist!”

“What—what is this?” The maids clapped hands to mouths to stifle their shrieks, hearts hammering wildly.

“Why does watching two men set my heart racing so? My chest pounds fit to burst!”

Even those who would not accept such a thing found themselves entranced, for the sight of the two together was beautiful beyond denial.

Lizhi did not know what Baiye intended by such bold display.

“My mother said that if I am not careful, others will set their sights upon you.”

Lizhi’s brow quivered. Indeed, Baiye was not without admirers. They had reached the pond, where stones lay scattered across the water.

Lizhi hooked an arm about his shoulder, indicating—

Baiye swept him up and bore him across the narrow, slippery path of stones.

One entrusted, the other reliable.

From the shore came stifled cries.

“Ahhh! My face burns!”

“Too thrilling!”

That afternoon, Baiye, Lizhi, Madam He, and Dazhu went to view the final house. By the time they departed, their hand-in-hand promenade had spread throughout the He estate.

The old master dropped his teacup in shock; in the women’s quarters, one choked on water, another pricked her finger with a needle. Some did not understand; others recalled whispered tales of emperors of bygone dynasties, and from thence the seldom-known law of the present reign: that men might wed men.

“Then… then they may indeed be wed?”

“But cousin, two men—how—how do they…?”

The second lady’s daughter, long suspicious, crowed in triumph. “What?”

“The bridal chamber…”

“You shameless girl, what thoughts are these!” The maidens tussled, cheeks aflame at their own imaginings.

The old master, swiftly mastering himself, decreed that whatever any might feel, whether they approved or not, all within the household must show respect and courtesy.

Baiye was their family’s benefactor.

Lizhi’s future was boundless.

What they might one day become, none could say.

And in any case, even without understanding, they must show respect.

He Lin, too, struggled to comprehend. He could not fathom how desire might stir between men. And yet, observing them, he found himself unsettled.

“Are they… sweeter than even my father and mother?”

“Heavens, what nonsense! I dare not look longer—else I too shall be turned!”

Indeed, he could imagine no others but these two together. Any other pairing seemed grotesque.

Baiye, for his part, cared nothing for gossip. At last, the final residence pleased all.

“A four-courtyard estate, spacious and symmetrical. Two squares joined, a mansion worthy of comparison even with the Hes.”

Unlike the sprawling He estate, this was in the true style of a great siheyuan.

Through the imposing gate lay a screen wall, then a sweeping outer court. Within the second gate lay the main courtyard, with long eastern and western wings. Facing directly forward stood the grand central hall, flanked by side chambers. Behind lay a mirror of the front court, and at the farthest end, a small courtyard with servants’ quarters.

In all, more than ten dwellings, with corridors, open courts, gardens, ponds for fish and shrimp, and ample ground for flowers and trees.

“Most importantly, it is newly built.” A blank canvas, upon which Baiye could craft every furnishing and detail, fashioning it into the bridal home he dreamed of.

Lizhi, sensitive to his surroundings, found it tranquil and heart-easing. By his judgment, it was indeed excellent.

He Jun called it peerless in geomancy—nourishing life and wealth alike.

The price was high, built as it was for grandees, yet “high” meant but four thousand taels. Baiye breathed relief, and with his mother’s aid, haggled fiercely until they settled at three thousand three hundred.

The broker, red-faced, conceded at last. “You two bargain like none I have met—I swear I have made not a single coin!”

Though his words rang hollow, Baiye rewarded him handsomely besides.

The broker, mollified, promised, “If I come upon another such, I shall notify you first, my lord!”

Baiye smiled. “Then also keep watch for servants—healthy, comely, literate if possible. A steward, a bookkeeper…”

At this, Madam He and Dazhu dragged him aside, aghast.

“Foolish child! You have but just earned a little, and already you dream of hiring servants? Better to save, to live well with Lizhi!”

They thought, when the marriage came, they might adopt some infant to raise as their own, to care for them in old age.

“These are not for myself,” Baiye explained. Yet in truth, he had near spent all. His workshops were waning, and his temples itched with worry.

Still, he purchased the estate at once, fearing delay would lose it. Both steward and He Jun affirmed the scarcity of such houses.

When the sum was paid, Lizhi offered seven hundred taels, Madam He three hundred, Baiye the remainder.

Thus was their household established in the prefectural city.

Madam He wandered the courtyards in a daze. “Ah, here we may plant a garden, raise fish to eat at will—what joy!”

Dazhu muttered, “These ponds are for ornament, not supper.”

“I please myself! Do not meddle!”

Their quarrel was warm with happiness.

Lizhi resolved that when he earned more, he would repay Baiye, or set it against the funds Baiye entrusted to him.

As for the house near the He estate, Baiye would one day buy it, for Dazhu’s furniture workshop. It would serve both business and dwelling.

For now, his purse nearly emptied, he must turn thoughts to the land at Chongzhou.

But first—most urgent of all—was Lizhi’s affliction.

Lizhi, needing to enter the academy without delay, knew he must not linger. That very night he went alone to Doctor Pang, carrying words he had written to aid their talk.

To his surprise, the doctor greeted him warmly, almost with delight.

“Hah! I knew you could not resist. Come, let me see!” His whiskers bristled in pride, his pulse pillow already set forth.

Lizhi realised the truth at once. This was why the man seemed softened. He had not expected him to yield so easily, and yet—could he be trusted?

“You fear that I know you are an yin-yang ren?”

A hermaphrodite!?

The pages in Lizhi’s sleeve scattered to the ground. He stared in disbelief, silently demanding how such a secret could be known.

Doctor Pang sighed, seeking to reassure him. “Ordinarily, even I should not perceive it. In all my decades, I have met but one such case, and that by pulse alone.”

“But having tended that patient long, I recognised certain signs in you, and so divined it.”

Symptoms? Lizhi’s heart seared as though in boiling oil, breath unsteady, body taut with dread.

“Be at ease. It is no grave matter.” In practice, Pang’s tone grew earnest, even gentle. “It shall not shorten your years. And save those closest to you, no one else shall discern it—save perhaps a doctor such as I.”

Lizhi seized brush and wrote: What symptoms? What ailment do I bear?

“This is no disease. I mean only—” Pang was frank as ever.

“Your face glows with peach-blossom, as does your companion’s. Yet because of your nature, the signs differ. Thus I inferred.”

Lizhi thought: his companion? At once he understood. His cheeks blanched, then flushed anew. He knew too well how his heart raced and his body longed for closeness, though his reserve restrained him.

He thought again—face-reading? Was Pang not a physician? What manner of man was he truly?

Had Baiye been there, he would have explained that since olden times, physiognomy and medicine had intertwined. A sickly body revealed itself in the visage, and fortune-tellers but guessed at health through such signs.

“This matter is naught. Only take care not to repress yourselves too greatly. For one of your constitutions, excess passion may harm the body. In bedchamber arts, moderation is needful.”

Lizhi’s pale face turned scarlet. He could have strangled the man for shame.

“And you especially,” Pang continued, heedless, “to bottle it up too long is most injurious. Yours is a nature all too sensitive—”

Lizhi nearly trembled with fury. He was not!

But Pang, lost in recollection of his former patient, noticed nothing.

At last, he grew solemn. “Now, let me examine your muteness.”

For Lizhi’s condition was unlike any Pang had seen, and curiosity stirred him. More than curiosity—the challenge to conquer what none had cured.

Whether he could or no… that remained to be seen.

Author’s Note:
In ages past, common folk were not permitted to dwell in such great mansions; there were strict ranks and rules governing this.