The Heroine Disguises Herself As A Man To Enter The Academy, And The Hero Loses His Memory And Forgets his First Love. - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“Achoo! Li Chenjing, just you wait!”

“Achoo, achoo! You dared offend this young master? Just you wait, I’ll make sure you suffer!”

“Achoo, achoo, achoo! The scandalous entanglement of the powerful prime minister’s heir with three men, four women, five dogs, and six pigs—hmph! Isn’t that a spicy headline? Within three days, I, Young Master Zhu the Eighth, will have this story spread across every corner of the capital! My chest brims with florid poetry—let your name stink worse than an outhouse for ten thousand years! Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”

Soaked to the bone and dragging half a life out of the river, Zhu Bafu managed to dog-paddle ashore, clambering up with a few splashes and a lot of curses. He sat miserably on a boulder by the bank, wringing out his long robe and cursing all the while.

He could only blame that bastard Li Chenjing—utterly heartless, with a conscience eaten clean by dogs! The man had watched, eyes wide open, as a living, breathing person fell into the river right beside him. Not a word, not a hand offered. Just stood there on the dam, aloof, sleeves fluttering, arms behind his back, watching coldly. When he saw Zhu Bafu flailing and dog-paddling, clearly not drowning, the man had the gall to turn around and walk away, unhurried and graceful as a drifting cloud.

Damn him! Thank goodness the Zhu family line had strong lifeblood—or else their incense would’ve been cut off thanks to that brute!

Dripping wet, his figure clung to him, revealing curves he’d never meant to show anyone. Oh no! The binding on his inner shirt had come loose. He quickly lowered his gaze—and sure enough, two rounded shapes were almost ready to pop out.

Damn it, damn it! He swiftly slipped a hand under his robe and tightened the binding again, gritting his teeth. As he strained to retie it with all his strength, suddenly a large hand clamped over his mouth and nose from behind and began dragging him into a narrow alley.

No! Was this someone seeking revenge for the love letters he ghostwrote? Love triangles, forbidden romances—none of that was his fault! He was just a humble pen-for-hire!

“Spare—mmph! Spare me!” he cried between the fingers muffling him, wriggling frantically. But the attacker was too strong, and soon had him shoved into a corner.

Now in a dead-end alley hidden from view, the grip loosened slightly. A hand raised high. Zhu Bafu thought he was about to get punched, so he curled up and threw his arms over his head.

“M-master! Spare me! I know it looks bad, but writing for a living isn’t easy. Affairs of the heart happen every day—she loves him, he doesn’t love her, he loves her but she’s getting married, she loves him but sleeps with someone else—every day, I swear! One hole for one radish, one pot for one lid! It’s not the ghostwriter’s fault! Revenge should go to the source, not the scribe!”

“You didn’t drink enough river water, huh? Want to go for another swim? Talking this much nonsense—aren’t you thirsty, Pigsy?!”

Pigsy?! How dare this little punk call the dashing Zhu Bafu “Pigsy”? Who the hell was this brat?

Zhu Bafu cracked open one eye and saw a silver smoking pipe—engraved with phoenixes and inlaid with jade—hovering right in front of his nose, fragrant smoke curling from its tip. A spark flew out and singed the tip of his nose.

“Ow, ow, ow! Sir, noble master, heaven is above us—don’t abuse your power!”

“Bah! Dirtying my hands with the likes of you would be an insult. All you ever do is screw things up.”

That arrogant, haughty voice sounded familiar. Wasn’t this the same veiled customer who had paid handsomely a few days ago to have him write a love poem for Li Chenjing?

Snap! A boot slammed against the wall beside him. A figure cloaked in golden-red leaned lazily against the bricks. He bent down, grabbed Zhu Bafu’s wet chin between two fingers, and tilted his face upward. Zhu found himself staring into a pair of mocking, annoyed eyes.

Last time this customer had worn a black veil, left a pouch of silver, and gave only an instruction, a date, and a location—then vanished. But now he was strutting around, pipe in hand, dressed in a shimmering brocade robe with gold-threaded gauze over red silk, rich and imposing. His long hair flowed freely, loosely tied with a fine embroidered ribbon ending in two red jade beads.

“You damned Pigsy! I told you to give that love letter to the contact. Why didn’t you?! Took my money, didn’t do my job—are you looking to die?” One hand clenched the pipe between his lips, the other jerked Zhu Bafu’s chin this way and that. He eyed the soaked and scrawny scholar with a swaggering sneer, like a handsome bully who enjoyed tormenting the weak.

“M-master, you wrong me! I really meant to hand it over, but for some reason Young Master Li was standing right there—”

“Exactly! I tricked him into being there so you’d deliver it to him!”

“But that’s improper! You paid me for the letter. Since Young Master Li is your beloved, shouldn’t you hand it to him personally? If I did it, that’d be like—like stealing your man!”

“Who the hell says he’s my beloved?” The man’s sharp eyes narrowed dangerously, leaning in close to warn him not to spout nonsense.

Zhu Bafu shrank back, flustered, trying to put distance between their faces. “A-actually, this kind of thing doesn’t really depend on gender. The pursuer should be bold! There’s no shame in being a heart thief! You should just go up to Young Master Li, say nothing, pin him down, and—just like how you’re gripping my chin right now—shove him, hold him, wrap your arms around him and—ow ow ow ow stop squeezing!”

“You talk too damn much, Pigsy! Listen here: I’m not into men. I only like women! Curvy, busty, sexy women! Not cold fish like him, with his snotty airs—and definitely not sissies like you!”

“Hey! Don’t insult me just because you don’t like him!”

“Because you ruined my plan! I wanted the whole city to know that Li Chenjing doesn’t like women!” He snorted, clearly amused with himself, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes.

“You say you don’t love him, but clearly, you want him to avoid all women so he’s yours alone. That’s twisted possessiveness, you know. Shame on you.”

Clonk! The smoking pipe thwacked him on the head.

“Shut up. Go give him the letter.”

“Again?!”

“Yes! Again! This time, he must accept it!”

“But—but I’m a proud, scholarly man of integrity! A masculine, iron-blooded hero! I can’t stoop to handing love letters to another man!” What was this, fate’s cruel joke?!

“Hah! Not going?” The client gave him a look that spelled trouble. “You took Dragon Master’s silver, didn’t do the job. You think giving the money back is enough? Someone! Strip him, toss him in the lake, and let him soak all night!”

Two burly men emerged from the alley entrance.

Strip him?! Throw him in the lake?! This was beyond perverse!

His body stayed firm, but his legs went soft. The tough guy act crumbled. He scrambled over to Dragon Master, groveling with a grin.

“Sir! Master! Please, let’s talk this out! I’ll do it! I’ll go right now and deliver the letter! I’ll make sure he takes it, even if it kills me!”

Dragon Master raised a brow in approval, leisurely puffed on his pipe, and jerked his chin to signal: Go. Now. Or else.

Zhu Bafu ducked under his arm and started to leave—but the man suddenly pulled him back into a rough one-armed hug and whispered low into his ear.

“He’s at Chunfen Tower right now. Go there.”

The scent of smoke filled his nose. Though it was just a whisper, the closeness made it feel like he was being held. Zhu Bafu squirmed away, head ducked, not daring to meet his gaze. “Chunfen Tower? That’s where he is?”

“You can try your luck there. If you manage to give the letter to him—especially in front of the head courtesan, Rongrong—even if he refuses it, I’ll consider the task complete.”

Chunfen Tower: the capital’s most luxurious brothel.

A pleasure palace for the elite, and a place where men flaunted their wealth by the women they sat beside.

To see the first courtesan wasn’t easy. She didn’t see just anyone. Even nobles bearing gold and jewels weren’t guaranteed a glance.

What chance did he—a no-name errand boy from a humble bookstore—have?

Outside Chunfen Tower, Zhu Bafu hesitated. It was evening, and the brothel gleamed with lights and opulence. Every man who entered arrived by sedan chair, flanked by servants. He stood there alone, awkward and shabby, like a stain on the lavish entrance.

The girls at the door were whispering and giggling, pointing at him. His ears burned. He turned to leave, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess without getting tossed into a lake.

A row of delicate embroidered shoes appeared in his lowered line of sight. He looked up—several lovely faces, lips curled in teasing smiles, were closing in. The girls sashayed toward him, their curves swaying.

“Why’s such a fine gentleman leaving already?” one purred.

“We’ll get scolded if you go—please don’t leave angry,” another said, looping her arms around him.

“N-no! You misunderstand—I was just passing by! Really, just passing by!”

“Heehee! Every man who comes here says that. Must be our fault for being too seductive, hmm? Or are we not pretty enough to make you stay, dear sir?”

“You’re very lovely, sisters, but I—I’m a poor scholar, that’s all! I truly can’t afford a night of pleasure.”

“What? No money?” Their expressions soured instantly, and most of them turned away in a huff. But a few girls remained, still watching him.

“I know you!” cried a green-robed girl. “You’re from Wuya Bookstore—Young Master Zhu the Eighth, aren’t you?!”

His face froze. He nodded.

Her eyes lit up. She pressed closer and giggled. “A man of such talent and charm, who writes those gorgeous love letters and steamy scripts—we ladies of Chunfen Tower speak of you often. I’ve long admired you. Come, let me serve you tonight—free of charge.”

“S-serve me?!”

“Yes! If you want a night of passion, I’ll undress you myself.”

WHAT?! He had no idea his fame had grown to the point he could visit brothels for free! But—he wasn’t here to get lucky. He was here to deliver a love letter to another man!

“Young Master Zhu, come inside~~”

“No, I—I’m not here for that—”

“Pfft! Don’t tease us. Are you saying it’s your time of the month, hmm? Come now, don’t be shy!”

Dragged toward the entrance, he panicked. He tugged back and blurted—

“I’m here to see Rongrong, the top courtesan!”

Just then, a deep, authoritative male voice echoed behind him:

“Who dares compete with me for Rongrong?”