Yunyu Fang had recently received a new batch of gems shipped from Persia. They shimmered brilliantly under direct sunlight and glowed with a unique luster at night, extraordinarily enchanting.
These gems were not something ordinary merchants could obtain. Most of the stock was held by auction houses, with prices varying based on quality.
Today’s string of prayer beads was called Qingjin Haiyan, made from sapphires sourced from Persia inlaid with gold threads. The gold patterns were intricate and exquisite, and it was the only one of its kind in the world. The starting bid was as high as ten thousand taels of silver, making it priceless.
Cui Wangshu sat in a private booth on the second floor. When she saw the bracelet, she couldn’t help but think of Jiang Chenbi.
Her skin was so fair; this bracelet would suit her perfectly.
Unaware of her thoughts, Wang Jin introduced, “This auction house is jointly run by the court and major merchant guilds. Rare treasures are auctioned here, and one-tenth of the proceeds goes to the national treasury for official use.”
Cui Wangshu was naturally aware of this. Back when diplomatic ties were established with the Kang Kingdom, the Great Zhao treasury was at its most strained. The Minister of Revenue had proposed setting up an auction house in Luozhou—a place where land was worth its weight in gold and wealthy merchants gathered—with court approval. One-tenth of the transaction amounts was drawn for the treasury.
In recent years, Great Zhao had aggressively pushed reforms, no longer adhering strictly to the traditional policy of emphasizing agriculture while suppressing commerce. Instead, the court intervened to guide merchants in distributing their profits to ordinary people. This prevented merchants from gaining excessive status and creating monopolies, while also leveraging commercial growth to improve the lives of the lower classes.
Merchant guilds and traders had increasingly diverse ways to make money. As long as they obeyed the court and allocated a portion of their profits, they gained freer access to markets. They always earned far more than what they gave up. Those who understood this and cooperated actively never lacked business, while those who refused had long vanished from the market.
Cui Wangshu glanced at the Qingjin Haiyan placed below in a glass case and asked, “For this disaster relief, the auction house must have contributed quite a bit, right?”
Wang Jin smiled. “Naturally. Aside from Yellow Path Palace providing the bulk of the relief funds each year, the rest is covered by the auction house.”
The bidding for Qingjin Haiyan below had already surged toward thirteen thousand taels. Cui Wangshu’s expression remained indifferent as she raised her hand. “Eighteen thousand taels.”
A wave of gasps rose from below, followed by a buzz of chatter.
Cui Wangshu remained aloof, as if she had just said something trivial. She paid no attention to the commotion below and continued, “Yellow Path Palace is Luozhou’s largest merchant guild. They’re not involved in the auction house partnership?”
Wang Jin was still reeling from Cui Wangshu’s bold bid when he snapped back. “Of course they are. Yellow Path Palace has always been the most active guild.”
Cui Wangshu stared at Wang Jin, the curve of her lips cold and devoid of warmth. “Is that so?”
A chill crept up Wang Jin’s back, and he stammered, “Y-yes, that’s right.”
Cui Wangshu turned away without another word. Seeing someone below hesitantly inching up the bid, she said directly, “Twenty thousand taels.”
The atmosphere surged to a fever pitch once more. The woman hosting the auction beamed. “Twenty thousand taels, once.”
“Twenty thousand taels, twice.”
“Twenty thousand taels, three times!”
The gavel fell.
“Congratulations to this buyer for acquiring our finale item—Qingjin Haiyan—for twenty thousand taels!”
Applause and exclamations filled the air as people speculated wildly about the identity of the big spender.
Cui Wangshu turned to Wang Jin. “Lord Wang, that’s enough for today.”
Wang Jin hurriedly stood and lifted the door curtain for her. “Please, Minister.”
After the item was won, there was a tedious verification process, which Cui Wangshu’s personal guards handled.
Once they left the auction house, Wang Jin asked, “Minister, shall I find you a residence? You arrived so suddenly yesterday and had to make do at the yamen office. It won’t be convenient for long-term stays.”
Cui Wangshu frowned, initially wanting to refuse—living alone at the yamen office was more convenient for work. But thinking of possibly needing to see Jiang Chenbi later, she changed her mind. “I’ll trouble you, Lord Wang. Just find something nearby the yamen office.”
Lord Wang nodded repeatedly. “Then rest well, Minister. I won’t disturb you further.”
Cui Wangshu nodded.
That night.
Cui Wangshu stood before the painting table, her wrist hovering in the air as she lightly dipped into the ink. Soon, a lifelike beauty reclining on a couch leaped onto the paper.
The beauty in the painting lay drunkenly on the couch, her fair legs bare outside her robe, her fingertips teasing a wine jug that seemed about to slip.
Cui Wangshu narrowed her eyes, picked up another brush, dipped it in cinnabar, and leaned down to outline a peony on the woman’s pale thigh.
The red clashed against the black ink, that striking dab of cinnabar locking the viewer’s gaze firmly on the woman’s legs.
Tap tap—
A strange noise came from the window. Cui Wangshu narrowed her eyes toward it, a suspicion rising in her heart.
The window opened and quickly closed again as a graceful shadow flipped inside.
Cui Wangshu’s lips curved. She set down her brush and stared meaningfully at Jiang Chenbi.
Jiang Chenbi straightened up. Seeing the other woman standing at the painting table, eyeing her with amusement, her own lips curved as well.
The two locked eyes, the meaning in their gazes unspoken but clear.
Jiang Chenbi stepped around the table, hooked her arm around Cui Wangshu’s neck, and tilted her head up for a kiss. Cui Wangshu smiled, gripped her waist, pulled her close, and pinned her against the table’s edge.
A short parting felt like a honeymoon; they kissed fiercely, each refusing to yield, both vying for dominance.
Jiang Chenbi’s hand slid to Cui Wangshu’s chest and pressed lightly. The woman let out a muffled hum and released her. Jiang Chenbi watched Cui Wangshu with interest. Cui Wangshu raised a brow, spun her around, and embraced her from behind.
Cui Wangshu rested her chin on Jiang Chenbi’s shoulder, her voice husky. “Does Miss Jiang like painting?”
Only then did Jiang Chenbi’s gaze fall on the painting on the table.
In it, she was draped in only a layer of sheer white gauze, her full breasts and slender waist exposed, legs bare.
The scant fabric barely covered the key areas, especially with a blooming peony outlined on her thigh—seductive and alluring.
Jiang Chenbi’s lips curved up. “I never imagined that Minister Cui stays up late at night not sleeping, but painting beauty portraits in her room. Quite… lewd.”
Cui Wangshu inhaled the fragrance from the woman in her arms, her lips brushing her neck as she murmured, “This isn’t a beauty portrait. I’ll paint the real one for you.”
Before Jiang Chenbi could react, her sash was deftly undone, and the expensive cloud brocade was ruthlessly tossed onto a chair.
Lying on the painting table, her back pressed against the cold wood, Jiang Chenbi sucked in a sharp breath.
Cui Wangshu leaned over her slightly, her expression serious as she picked up the cinnabar-dipped brush and outlined a vivid peony on that body whiter than the paper.
Jiang Chenbi’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, her fingers unconsciously clutching Cui Wangshu’s sleeve.
Cui Wangshu’s gaze fell on her face. Seeing her tension, she took the hand gripping her sleeve and kissed it lightly at her lips.
It was a chilly late autumn night. The rosewood crane-legged painting table rocked gently, creaking.
Jiang Chenbi bit her own arm, but the next second, Cui Wangshu stopped her. The woman bent down over her, fully clothed, her hanging garments draping over Jiang Chenbi and blocking some of the cold.
“I want to hear…”
Jiang Chenbi bit her lip and shook her head, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes but not falling. This was the yamen office; she refused.
Cui Wangshu nibbled her earlobe, grinding against it teasingly with a soft laugh.
Her palm covered the thigh wrapped around her waist, where a cinnabar peony bloomed.
Cui Wangshu squeezed hard, feeling the soft flesh yield under her fingertips, her breathing quickening.
“It hurts…” The woman’s voice was light and abrupt.
Cui Wangshu paused, lowering her head to check, but Jiang Chenbi quickly pulled her back, her voice hoarse. “My back hurts. The table’s too hard.”
Cui Wangshu pursed her lips, recalling how little padding Jiang Chenbi had on her back, and lifted her up.
Sitting in the chair, Jiang Chenbi’s neck arched back, pillowed on Cui Wangshu’s shoulder.
Her back no longer hurt now that she was on Cui Wangshu, but this position was even worse than before… especially…
Cui Wangshu held her hand and chuckled softly. “How does Miss Jiang usually pleasure herself while staring at my portrait?”
Jiang Chenbi’s ear tips flushed red. She struggled to get down from Cui Wangshu’s lap, but her calves were hooked over the chair’s armrest, leaving her powerless.
Cui Wangshu laughed lightly, pressed her down into her embrace, and said, “Now I’m right here in front of Miss Jiang. Am I not better than the one in the painting?”
Jiang Chenbi refused to move, so Cui Wangshu directly guided her fingers while pinching her chin with her other hand, forcing her to watch the motion.
Suspended in mid-air, neither up nor down, Jiang Chenbi closed her eyes and resigned herself to self-satisfaction.
Cui Wangshu watched her face intently. As pleasure bloomed on it, turning to dazed ecstasy, her own expression gradually cooled.
Jiang Chenbi was still unaware of the anger brewing behind her. She knew her own body well and how to please it, but she hadn’t expected Cui Wangshu to get upset over her doing it herself.
Jiang Chenbi felt truly wronged. Cui Wangshu had refused to help, lit the fire without extinguishing it, and now got mad seeing her enjoy it too much.
Her back sank into soft bedding. Jiang Chenbi squinted up at the kneeling figure.
Cui Wangshu’s lips held a playful yet cold smile as she stared straight at Jiang Chenbi. That gaze was too blatant and dangerous, instinctively making Jiang Chenbi want to flee.
A single look from Cui Wangshu pinned her in place. Slowly, methodically, she shed her own still-pristine clothes. They fell to the floor as the bed curtains dropped, and the true night finally began.
……
When Jiang Chenbi woke, she was clean and refreshed, dressed in undergarments. The clothes tossed on the chair the night before were gone.
Another cloud brocade white dress lay at the bedside, exquisitely tailored and luxuriously expensive.
Jiang Chenbi wanted to rub her eyes, but she soon felt a cool, foreign sensation on her wrist. Looking closely, her pupils contracted slightly.
As the Palace Lord of Yellow Path Palace and the former Empress of Great Zhao, Jiang Chenbi had seen countless rare treasures, yet she was still captivated by the sapphire-beaded prayer beads on her wrist.
Cui Wangshu had excellent taste; this bracelet suited Jiang Chenbi perfectly. On her fair, slender wrist, the sapphire and gold-intertwined beads gleamed, with a red agate knot bead in the center. The jade Buddha head felt smooth and substantial, and even the tassel and corner ornaments were top-quality.
It looked immensely valuable at a glance. Jiang Chenbi removed the beads, holding them in her palm. The cool beads warmed against her body heat, losing some of their otherworldly detachment.
Jiang Chenbi’s lips curved up. She gripped them tightly, savoring the lingering chill.
This was no place to linger. Though Cui Wangshu hadn’t said anything, Jiang Chenbi knew the consequences if anyone discovered a woman in the minister’s room.
She dressed and reached for the doorframe when it swung open from the outside.
