Prince and His Fool

Chapter 62: Catamite

With each word spoken, Rong Zian's anger graduated from mildly irritated to extreme murderous intent but Zhao Lee was too stupid and kept going. "Oh, you are upset now? I see, so you actually thought he was going to make you his wife? And when he becomes the emperor he would what? Make you the empress? What a joke" roared Zhao Lee lifting the teapot and hauled it in his direction.

"Such a high and mighty dream for a mere servant," she continued to vent at him. Rong Zian drenched in scolding hot tea was so disoriented in anger that he picked up a bowl on the table and smashed it on the hard surface to shut her up coincidently cutting his palm in the process. This would serve as a warning sign for the clever but of course, Zhao Lee wasn't one of the smart ones.

"Wait until he makes me his wife, I will make your life..Ahahah-," she screamed unable to finish her sentence.

Rong Zian had his hand squeezing at her throat, his pupils sparkling as he gazed at her suffocating red face with veins bulging out. Ying Tie who had heard a woman screaming rushed over and witness Rong Zian holding on tight to Zhao Lee's throat. Afraid he might reveal his true self to Zhao Lee, Ying Tie talked him out of it pulling his hand.

"Let go, she's not worth it! Rong Zian listen to me! Think of Wu Yange!" yelled Ying Tie trying to remove the hand gripping tightly at Zhao Lee.

His words seemed to work, Rong Zian loosened his grip coming back to his senses. He let go and backed away perplexed staring down at his trembling hands. He had never hurt a woman before, at least while conscious and would never hit a woman but he couldn't control himself. Ying Tie separated them whilst Wu Fan blocked Zhao Lee's line of sight, thinking, 'Cousin's baobei shouldn't be dirtying his eyes with this filth.'

But Zhao Lee wouldn't shut up even if it was to save her life. She violently coughed struggling to calibrate her breathing and as soon as she regained her composure, she went at it again. "How dare you put your filthy hands on me, my father will bury you alive and no one will be able to find your rotting corpse!" she howled pointing at him, "Get your dirty paws off me!" now yelling at Wu Fan. She stumbled out of Primrose Mansion her face wretched with strangulation marks on her throat. She wanted to maintain her pitiful expression long enough for her father to see and do something about it.

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In all the commotion one main character was missing, Wu Yange was busy inspecting the ring designs the jeweller had sketched when he sent word for him. The designs were all intriguing but he wanted one the laid claim on Rong Zian as a symbol of his affection but also strike fear into the hearts of anyone who had had the audacity to approach him.

"Make it multicolour with an azure dragon and the rest of the ring should be made of black tungsten," he said pointing at one of the designs, "add some flame designs but infuse the characters of my name in there. The edges of the ring must be diamond-encrusted there should be no less than a hundred diamonds in it. Also, make a simple black chain so he can wear it as a pendant."

The jeweller was struck dumb by the prince peculiar specifications, he just had to make a suggestion. "Your Highness, tungsten is not worth as much as gold. Wouldn't it be better to use gold?"

Wu Yange glanced at him with an icy stare, suppressive enough to make the jeweller silent, "The diamonds will make up for it. Can you get it done by the end of the day?" he asked signing some required documents for the reserve.

The man scared out of his wits, kowtow before him in a cold sweat. "Your Highness, this subject isn't skilled enough to have it done in that space of time."

Disappointed, Wu Yange spoke, "How long will it take?" He really wished to give it to Rong Zian now if he could but it seemed he would have to wait.

"Tw-Two Your Highness," he stammered holding up two fingers. Assuming he meant days, Wu Yange smiled but the jeweller soon realised he had been misunderstood and clarified, "weeks Your Highness."

As expected Wu Yange scowled and commanded, "One week at Nuwang city. If you not done by then you will lose your head! If the emperor or empress finds out, you will also lose your head "

While he was busy tormenting the jeweller into delivering on time, there was an abrupt knock on the door with Ying Tie saying something inaudible as though afraid to tell him something. Wu Yange opened the door and all he heard was "Rong Zian."

Not even waiting to hear the rest, he raced to his room in a flash like lightning only to find Rong Zian with bloodshot teary eyes, his hands trembling with a line of dry blood across his right palm. A fidgety servant was disinfecting his wound trying not hurt him but he was doing it wrong as result thereof. Wu Yange shoved the servant to the side and crouched down facing Rong Zian taking care of it himself.

Ying Tie drove everyone out including himself giving them space as he secretly prayed that they all don't get implicated. Wu Yange didn't bother asking what happened, he knew it had to do with Zhao Lee because when he left, Rong Zian was perfectly fine. He sat next to him and pulled Rong Zian into his chest embracing him in silence.

Rong Zian was fine with silence as he nestled in Wu Yange's arms. Nothing else mattered except this serene moment. His mind instantly calmed down though he still felt bad for losing himself in such an audacious way. The only thing he regretted was causing trouble for Wu Yange even before they were officially together. He was almost certain that Zhao Lee would open her vulgar mouth and tell her family who will, in turn, inform the emperor. 'What a fucked up way to come out of the closet!' he thought before falling asleep in Wu Yange's arms.

While Rong Zian snuggled in a tranquil milieu, the Zhao family were sharpening their knives. With Zhao Lee weepily recounting all the torment she had been subjected to by the so-called servant, Rong Zian. Omitting the insults she had directed at him, the story was now that of the kind gentle damsel of noble birth who was attacked by a violent catamite, jealous of the prince's soon to be wife. It was said the damsel was strangled in broad daylight only rescued when she already had a scar on her neck. Thus so goes the tale of Zhao Lee, the damsel in distress and Rong Zian, the out of favour villain who would do anything to keep his position.

Such a ridiculous story told by Zhao Lee herself was now on everyone's lips by nightfall. Zhao Huang was throwing his tantrum like a baby in need of a diaper change, tossing everything hauling insults left and right. "Look what that servant did to you. Who will marry you now with those marks on your neck? Wu Yange has to pay reparations, I won't let him get away with this!" bellowed Zhao Huang in anger.

Madam Zhao was busy treating her daughter's neck while trying to appease her husband. Though she seemed like a serene woman, she was the worst among them. Zhao Huang was an all-action no plan man who would do things on impulse but Madam Zhao was a scheming woman of the bitch variety. "My dearest husband, calm your nerves. This thing needs to be dealt with in such a way that we get what we want," she said in such a sweet tone you would think she was an angel.

Zhao Huang finally calmed down and asked, "What do you suggest we do?"

"Invite the prince over so we can apologise for our daughter's action and-,"

Zhao Huang rudely interrupted his wife while Zhao Lee wept louder like a goat being sent for slaughter. "Woman you have gone insane! Why would l apologise when they did this to Zhao Lee. Look, look at her neck," he yelled while pointing at Zhao Lee. Her younger sisters who were just spectators found it hilarious as they chuckled in the corner.

"You see I haven't even finished yet you are already blowing your top off. This is just a ruse to get him here and sit at the same table with us. I remember you mention to me how he doesn't drink alcohol which means he is unaccustomed to it. I will brew some of my chamomile tea which will mask that tasteless odourless spirit you have been drinking lately. When he gets drunk, our dearest Zhao Lee can have her way with him and thus you will wake up with a prince for a son-in-law. How is that for a plan?"

Zhao Huang grinned from ear to ear like the villain, the Joker from Batman and praised his wife for being so clever. "Go prepare," he said to his wife and daughters while signalling for a servant, "Send an invite to Primrose Mansion and make it as pitiful as possible!"