The Favorite Refuses to Serve His Lord with His Looks

[80% anti-theft threshold. Updates are intended for every other day, but may be irregular] Everyone knows that Shen Qingci, the Right Chancellor, is a depraved favorite who serves the emperor with his looks. He curries favor with his superiors and bullies his subordinates, manipulates the ruler, throws the court into chaos, forms cliques and attacks his rivals, frames loyal officials... The accusations against him are too numerous to count. Memorials impeaching him arrive on the emperor's desk every day like snowflakes, yet His Majesty has always ignored them. When he was in a good mood, Pei Jing would sometimes casually pick one up and read it aloud to Shen Qingci. Shen Qingci would always listen silently with a smile, never defending himself or even furrowing his brow. Pei Jing pinched his cheek and teased him. "I remember the first time I saw you. You snatched my prey with a single arrow. When I questioned you, you even talked back to me. You were so arrogant, but now you're very well-behaved." Shen Qingci thought that he had clearly shot the deer first. Pei Jing was the one who insisted on stealing it, then accused him of taking his prey. Back then, he was still young and looked down on everyone. He cared nothing for princes or ministers, believing life was nothing more than carefree pleasure. He had never imagined that a great upheaval would befall him, that the man would become emperor, or that he himself would end up in the imperial bed... Now, he held power over the court and was notorious throughout the land. He had never meant to use his looks to serve the emperor, but had accidentally become a depraved favorite. But all he could do was lie in His Majesty's arms and obediently reply, "I am Your Majesty's prey." == From the first moment Pei Jing saw Shen Qingci, he had only one thought: this man should be his. By any means necessary, whether by taking him, deceiving him, threatening or tempting him, or patiently plotting his capture. In short, he would take him. That was his prey, and he belonged in Pei Jing's snare. But back then, Shen Qingci was inexperienced and defiant, and would never bow his head to Pei Jing. It didn't matter. Pei Jing had always been the most patient of hunters. Until that night, when Shen Qingci sheathed his claws and knelt before him of his own accord, bowing and begging for his favor, pleading with him to grant him salvation. Seeing his pride, Pei Jing wanted to break it. Seeing his sharp edges, he wanted to grind them away. He loved watching flawless jade become blemished and brilliant pearls gather dust. Pei Jing never denied his own shamelessness and depravity, but who in this world would dare say so to his face? He saw tears on Shen Qingci's lashes and watched his body tremble as he could only meekly beg for mercy. At last, Shen Qingci had become a docile prey. Pei Jing should have been satisfied. But was he really satisfied? People are never content. He had obtained Shen Qingci's body and submission, and gotten his wish to see him bow and obey, ready to give him anything he wanted, yet he was still unsatisfied. He wanted Shen Qingci's heart, and even his love. But Pei Jing was the Son of Heaven. All under heaven is the emperor's land; all who live upon it are his subjects. The Son of Heaven should be free to take whatever beauty the world has to offer. How could that be called greed? *Overbearing emperor gong who takes what he wants* x *Resentful, restrained favorite shou, a caged bird* [Content Advisory] This story contains a lot of love triangles, dramatic entanglements, love and hate, taking what one wants by force, tragic romance, star-crossed love, and the idea that love brings only suffering and no one escapes unscathed. Melodrama, melodrama, and more melodrama! Angst, angst, and more angst! This is not a typical crematorium story. The author writes according to personal tastes. The political intrigue serves the romance and is not the main focus of the plot. It is not historically researched, has an old-fashioned flavor, and may contain all kinds of potential triggers. This story is for readers aged eighteen and up. It may not suit fans of any particular extreme pairing preference. A short-to-medium-length story, with chapters already written in advance. If you're fine with all the above, come on in! A teaser for my upcoming story: Dust Beneath Our Eyes A mutually destructive master-disciple romance, with a younger gong Demonized disciple gong x Detached, passionless master shou Ji Wushuang lived up to his name, a man of clear skies and bright moonlight, peerless beneath heaven. He made a name for himself while young, with extraordinary talent, and seemed never to have known a moment of defeat. Three hundred years ago, he cleaved the Canglan Sea with a single sword strike, sealing countless demons beneath the Abyss of Separation and ending the centuries-long war between immortals and demons. Every sect in the immortal world knew his name. Even the sect leaders had to address him respectfully as Immortal Venerable. Some admired him, some hated him, some wanted him to live forever, and some wanted him dead by tomorrow. But Ji Wushuang didn't care about any of them. His eyes held only three disciples, one friend, one immortal mountain, and one long sword. Many people wanted to kill Ji Wushuang, but most weren't even qualified to get near him. And yet Ji Wushuang still died, at the hands of the eldest disciple he had lovingly raised and cherished most. A hundred years later, Ji Wushuang woke in a filthy, cramped woodshed, his whole body covered in wounds and every bone aching. The good news: he was reborn, in the body of a mortal illegitimate son who had suffered constant abuse. The bad news: the boy was skin and bones, with terrible spiritual roots, a weak affinity for cultivation, and no means of protecting himself. There were two things he needed to do. First, he had to conceal his identity. Ji Wushuang had made countless enemies in his life, and until he regained his cultivation, he could not let anyone learn who he was. Second, he had to find his corpse, if it was still there. Fate had a cruel sense of humor. Ji Wushuang had barely begun his search for his corpse when he found his beloved disciple, the one who had run him through with a sword, gravely wounded and unconscious by the road. The disciple's first act upon waking was to grab Ji Wushuang by the throat and ask him with bloodshot eyes, "Who are you?" This disciple seemed to have changed. After Ji Wushuang died, his beloved disciple did two things as well. First, he found a piece of thousand-year-old black ice and personally carved it into an ice coffin for Ji Wushuang's corpse. Rumor had it that every night, the disciple climbed into the coffin and slept beside Ji Wushuang's body. Second, he imprisoned his junior disciple, Ji Wushuang's third disciple. Ji Wushuang rubbed his nose and sighed. "Your sect is a mess." The disciple: "For the record, that's not a rumor." The innocent junior disciple: "Does anyone care whether I live or die?" * In his previous life, Ji Wushuang had looked down on everyone and everything. He sat high above the clouds, watching all beings drown in desire and struggle in vain, unable to escape the glittering world below. It was like watching flowers through a fog: he could never understand their obsession. Now that he had another chance, he rolled around in the mortal world and experienced every joy and sorrow firsthand. Only then did he understand the taste of love. Theme: I was never suited to the ways of the world; by nature, I love the hills and mountains.