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Junhui steps into the brothel, sweeping the red curtains to the side.
"My, my, look who we have here," the madam of the brothel simpers as she rushes to Junhui's side. "You are certainly good-looking. So, who would you like?" She eyes the heavy coin pouch on Junhui's waistcoat hungrily, borderline salivating.
The First Class Duke Zhongyong is grateful that he dressed in commoner clothes today, and not the garb for non-imperial nobles. He takes a seat on one of the tables directly in front of the wooden stage.
"Just give me liquor," Junhui says.
"But, sir, you need to pick a service," the madam frowns, tone shifting suggestively. She opens her mouth to protest more, but Junhui slams a handful of coins on the table. It shuts the madam up immediately and she dashes back to get some liquor for the wealthy customer. Junhui stares at the stage, dim lights from the lanterns flooding the brothel and casting the empty stage in a heavenly glow.
"Where are the performers?" he asks.
"Well, you do have to pick one."
"Give me the best dancer, then. If I like her, then you may have all of this." Junhui shakes his silk coin pouch lightly, coins jingling and singing. The mandarin ducks embroidered on it were a gift from his sister.
"Her? But...Never mind. Right away. Call the Moonflower Courtesan!" she shouts, and Junhui lets out an amused smirk. The Moonflower Courtesan. What an interesting name. He takes a swig of the liquor, sighing in appreciation as the dim lanterns turn into a sultry red. The Empress has been pestering him to find himself a nice noble girl and get married and have children. Junhui doesn't know how to tell his sister that he likes men.
Shuffling, and the smell of flowers fills the hall of the brothel. Junhui's eyes leave his cup to stare at the stage, where a veiled courtesan makes her way. Or at least, he thinks it's a woman, with a slender body and beautiful milky skin that he takes in like a man starved.
Music plays—he doesn't know where it's from—and the courtesan's body moves like a river. Her right foot steps forward, and both her arms raise, long and shimmery sleeves made with the sheerest material Junhui's ever seen falling. They expose graceful and pale arms. He watches, transfixed, as the Moonflower Courtesan dances to the music with elegance not even most nobles possess. The performance ends far too soon for his liking, and he waves his arm to summon the madam.
She rushes forward. "Yes, sir?"
"Give me the Moonflower Courtesan for the night," he says, emptying the contents of his coin pouch on the table. "And all the services that these can pay for." The madam's surprised face brings forth a snigger from Junhui, who quickly masks it as a cough. He goes up the stairs to the most expensive and luxurious room in the brothel.
"Sir?" the Moonflower Courtesan asks softly as she enters the room without the veil this time, taking a seat next to Junhui.
"You are the most beautiful lady I have ever laid my eyes on," murmurs Junhui, stroking the courtesan's face. She gives him a confused look.
"But I am not a lady," the courtesan says slowly. "I am male. All of the Red Veiled Brothel's courtesans are male."
Junhui couldn't be happier at that statement, though he tries not to show it. "Is that so? That is not a problem. In fact, I like you better like this. Though you might want to know one thing, Moonflower Courtesan."
The courtesan gazes at him patiently, eyes fanning the fire inside of Junhui.
"I am the younger brother of the Em—youngest son of one of the noble families." The Moonflower Courtesan doesn't react, and Junhui fears that his cover had been exposed long ago. The Moonflower Courtesan gasps belatedly, and stands up in an awkward half bow, unsure of whether to curtsey or bow or proclaim his deepest admiration. "Why do you look so worried? I'm not the Emperor. I won't eat you up."
"My Lord," the courtesan greets, sinking into a curtsey. Junhui normally hates being addressed by 'My Lord', since it makes him feel old and alien.
But when it comes out of the Moonflower Courtesan's mouth, he supposes he can make an exception for once.
Just for the night, Junhui decides to indulge himself. He knows that when dawn comes, he'll have to leave the brothel and never return in order not to throw the face of the Imperial Family out of the window.
But just for the night, he succumbs to mortal pleasure. The Moonflower Courtesan is skilled, mouth working in ways that Junhui never thought possible. He's warm, too, an observation that Junhui finds out in the best way possible.
The Duke exits the brothel at the crack of dawn, leaving behind nothing but his silk coin pouch.
Junhui's feet bring him back to the Red Veiled Brothel again after a few months.
"What happened to never coming back?" he asks himself as he steps through the curtains again. The coins in his new coin pouch jingle again, and the madam runs over so fast Junhui lets out a yelp.
"If you're here for the Moonflower Courtesan, he's not here today," she says bitterly when Junhui shields his coin pouch from her.
"Why?" he asks, genuinely curious. Do courtesans take days off?
"He comes and goes as he pleases. Makes me wonder if he has some kind of second life outside," sighs the madam, just as the curtains swish open. Junhui turns around and sees the most ethereal and beautiful being to walk the Earth. "Ah, you're here. Perfect timing. This gentleman asked for you."
"You came back?" the Moonflower Courtesan asks in surprise. "I have not seen you here in months. What brings you here?"
"I missed you," Junhui blurts out without thinking. The courtesan stares him, bemused. "Was what I would say if I were trying to toy with your feelings. But I am simply stressed," he corrects lamely, and the courtesan nods.
"Madam, I am sure that you do not mind, yes?" the Moonflower Courtesan's eyes sparkle.
"Of course not. You're the brothel's most prized courtesan," coos the madam, smiling fondly. The courtesan leads Junhui up to the same room they used months ago, pushing him down onto the bed.
"What happened today? You look fatigued," asks the courtesan in concern, pushing Junhui's beautiful hair out of his face.
"Do you mind just lying down with me?" Junhui sighs, voice so soft that the courtesan has to strain his ears to hear it.
"No, I do not. I will listen to all your troubles," responds the Moonflower Courtesan. Junhui feels his entire body relax, and everything pours out of his chest. How his sister has been pressuring him to marry someone and settle down, how more and more unrealistic expectations have been put on his shoulders simply because he is from one of the higher ranked noble families.
He makes sure not to disclose that his sister is actually the Empress, and how he's actually Duke Zhongyong of the First Rank.
"I want you to follow your heart, My Lord," the courtesan says after a while. "So what if you are a noble? Your heart follows no rules, nor is it bound by human rules and laws."
Junhui marvels at the elegance of the courtesan's speech. For the first time in his twenty-five years of living, no one has actually understood him like that.
"Do what your heart desires," continues the courtesan. "Even if the whole world stands against you, your heart will be the one reigning supreme in the end." Junhui can't help but think that the courtesan's graceful manner of talking is reminiscent to one of a noble's.
"Is that so?" he chuckles, sitting up. "You are the first person who has ever understood my woes, like you are someone who is going through the same thing."
The Moonflower Courtesan flinches. "You flatter me, My Lord. I am nothing but a lowly courtesan." And just like he's been doused with cold water, a chilling realisation hits Junhui.
No matter how much he enjoys the courtesan's company, Junhui cannot act on those feelings. For he is a member of the imperial family through his sister, and the Moonflower Courtesan is nothing but a commoner.
Two worlds apart from each other, two immiscible liquids.
"I had almost forgotten," Junhui tries to laugh it off, but it comes off dry and forced. An uncomfortable silence fills the air.
"What position would you like me in, My Lord?" the courtesan's tinkling voice shatters the silence after a while of lying down in silence.
"On your back," decides Junhui after an insufferably long time. "I want to see you." He doesn't want to admit that he just wants to gaze at the face that's been in his mind for their months apart.
Junhui turns to face the Moonflower Courtesan on the soiled sheets. He's asleep, mouth parted slightly, and Junhui wants to eat him up. "I cannot," he reminds himself in disappointment. "He is a commoner, and I am part of the Imperial Family. This will not do. I cannot remain here." But he stays for a little longer, branding the face of the Moonflower Courtesan in his mind before he disappears from the brothel.
His lips tingle; he had pressed a chaste kiss to the Moonflower Courtesan's forehead. Why? Why, when he knows that he cannot let himself get attached? Why, when he is a noble, and the courtesan's a commoner?
Why, when they're two worlds apart, like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl?
The hole in his heart grows wider the further he gets from the brothel.
"Junhui, have you found a wife? If you have not, I would be more than glad to arrange a bride for you. You have no idea how many noblewomen out there would die for a chance to marry the Empress' brother," his sister offers when he pays the Forbidden City a visit.
"Sister, I do not like women, remember? I like men," Junhui reminds gently.
"So do I. It seems like we have another thing in common," the Empress says, setting down her cup of tea. "But I am serious. You are getting old. You need to settle down soon, lest the Emperor arranges for one of the stuck-up princesses to be wed to you."
Junhui shudders at the thought of becoming a prince consort. The princesses of the royal family were either snobbish or austere or so uptight he couldn't spend more than an hour in their presence.
"I suppose you are right, sister. Very well. But I do have a request."
"Oh? Do tell."
"Can you arrange one for me after winter?" Junhui needs to get the Moonflower Courtesan out of his head and forget about him. Perhaps, he thinks, agreeing to an arranged marriage would be the only solution.
"I can arrange that. Here: what if I announce your betrothal at the New Year's banquet?"
Junhui leaves the Forbidden City feeling like he's just done something wrong. He feels choked up, and so he breaks his oath to himself and finds himself in the room in the Red Veiled Brothel again.
"You need to stop leaving before I wake up," huffs the Moonflower Courtesan. "I wake up to an empty bed everyday and wonder if I have done so bad you cannot stand another moment with me."
The Duke finds the courtesan's feisty spirit endearing. A welcome change from the stiffness of court, like watermelon on a hot summer's day. "I apologise, my Moonflower, but I have important things to attend to in the morning."
"My Lord, you have more important things than me?" teases his Moonflower, and Junhui laughs.
"Have we gotten closer?"
"I would be disappointed if we did not. After all, you visit me almost every night." Yes, Junhui's visited the Moonflower Courtesan night after night, embarrassing as it is to admit. But he can't deny that the courtesan's the star in his dull and mundane life. Around him, Junhui feels like he can put down the façade of a serious and cold noble.
He's not Wen Junhui, younger brother of the Empress of the Wen clan, First Class Duke Zhongyong anymore. He's just Junhui, a twenty-five year old madly in love with a courtesan.
"You seem tired again," notes his Moonflower. "Would you like me to massage your shoulders?"
"Please," whispers Junhui. And the Moonflower Courtesan obeys, deft and skillful fingers loosening the knots on Junhui's shoulders and back. Junhui stands up abruptly, and the courtesan stumbles back.
"My Lord?" Junhui doesn't say anything. He pulls the courtesan to him and envelopes him in a hug.
"I apologise. But let me stay like this for a while, my Moonflower," he says, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers from the courtesan's hair. He feels something move, and a brief flash of fear shoots to Junhui. Is the Moonflower Courtesan going to push him away?
All his doubt evaporates when dainty arms wrap around Junhui. "Just for a while, My Lord. But no one can know of this."
Junhui hums in agreement. "Alright. Can I call you by your name?"
Silence ensues for a moment or two. The reply comes so faintly that if Junhui weren't so enamored with the courtesan in front of him, he wouldn't have caught a single word. But he is enamored, and he finds the courtesan's spirited nature a refreshing change of pace from the rigid atmosphere of court.
"Minghao, My Lord. My name is Minghao," Minghao says into the Duke's chest.
"Minghao," Junhui repeats. "Your name is as pretty as you."
His Moonflower's laugh resembles the twinkling of the stars that illuminate the night sky. Junhui revels in the brief moments they have together before New Year's comes. He gazes at the moon wistfully.
A few more months, and he would have to leave Minghao behind.
He keeps his relationship with the Moonflower Courtesan a heavily guarded secret. Nobody knows about it save for the both of them. Under the guise of night, he sneaks into the Red Veiled Brothel.
Minghao slips him into his room unnoticed. "Why do you insist on only coming at night nowadays?"
"I do not want anyone to recognise me. It would be risky for the both of us should anyone recognise me," Junhui answers, and Minghao sighs. He sits on Junhui's lap, draping his arms around the taller's neck.
Junhui steals a few kisses from the courtesan's lips, grinning at the gasps and delighted giggles escaping from his Moonflower's mouth. Snow cascades from the sky outside, and New Year's is just around the corner.
Minghao seems to be feeling down for the past few escapades. Honestly, he's sick of having to sneak around with his love. He wants to be open with him, he wants to shout to the entire world that they are in love with each other.
He hates that he cannot, simply because he is a lowly courtesan and his love is from a high-ranking noble family.
"My Lord, I...I do not think we can continue seeing each other anymore," Minghao croaks when they're snuggling under the covers, stealing the words right from Junhui's mouth.
"Why, my Moonflower? Is everything alright?" Junhui worriedly holds Minghao's hand, wiping the tears away with his free hand.
"Ah, my family wants me to get married to someone," he replies, and Junhui feels his heart sink.
"Is that so? Do they know about you being a courtesan?"
"No, My Lord. I was bored of the stiffness and rigidity of life, so I decided to work as a courtesan for fun. It seems that it is time for give that life up, however. The brothel would not accept a wedded courtesan."
"I was going to tell you the same thing," admits Junhui. "You know how noble families are, always pushing their sons to find a nice wife and settle down. My family has arranged a marriage for me, and the betrothal will be announced tomorrow. This is the last time I will see you, my Moonflower." Minghao feels like his heart's been crushed and grinded and stomped on.
They look into each other's eyes longingly, lamenting the fact that they cannot be together. That night, Junhui lets Minghao take control. He cannot muster the strength to do anything.
"Really, why do the Gods play us like this?" Minghao suddenly asks .
"I wish I knew the answer to that, my Moonflower. Maybe it is just not meant to be."
"Do you think we could have been together if we were born in different circumstances, My Lord?"
"Fate works in funny ways, Minghao. No one can really tell."
"I suppose you are right. Will you tell me your name, at least? As a parting gift."
Junhui leaves the brothel feeling like half of him is missing, presumably torn from him. He dreads the rise of the Sun and the banquet. He regrets telling his sister to arrange a marriage for him. How foolish he is, to think that an arranged marriage would rip the Moonflower Courtesan out of his life. The moon's shimmer mocks him as he returns to his estate.
He feels sorry for the noble he is engaged too. They would not live a happy life, for his heart belongs to someone else.
Minghao slumps on his bed, fiddling with the pouch embroidered with mandarin ducks. He holds it close to his chest, right to his pounding heart. He had not gotten his love's name.
"How did we even fall in love without knowing each other's names?" Minghao asks the pouch. The mandarin ducks look at him. "Maybe it is for the better. Without his name, it would be easier for me to get over him." The mandarin ducks look at him, like they know he's lying. Though he refuses to believe it, Minghao knows he's lying.
Tomorrow comes far too quickly for their liking, and Junhui's wearing a forced smile at the banquet. The red lanterns remind him of Minghao. The liquor reminds him of Minghao, who used to feed him. The music reminds him of Minghao, who used to dance to it whenever Junhui felt stressed. Everything reminds him of Minghao, and he can't find it in himself to even look thrilled when the Empress announces his engagement.
"His Majesty the Emperor has blessed the marriage between Imperial Duke Zhongyong of the First Rank and the youngest son of Baron Xu of the First Rank!" his sister says, and all the nobles granted a title above the rank system, the Dukes, Marquises, and Counts, clap politely. Junhui tries to look happy.
His mind just wanders to Minghao. The Empress' head eunuch approaches Junhui and hands him a silk pouch.
"As per imperial custom, the Baron's family is expected to leave an item in the possession of the higher ranked family as some sort of dowry," explains the eunuch, who slips away moments later.
Junhui stares at the mandarin ducks embroidered on the pouch. It reminds him of the one he left in Minghao's possession.
Once again, everything reminds Junhui of Minghao, the being he desires with his whole heart, yet cannot get.
Junhui sits on one of the chairs in his family estate, dreading the arrival of the Baron's family. He doesn't want to be married to a random noble with a flippant or uptight personality.
He wants Minghao, whose feisty spirit offered him a welcome change.
"Baron Xu of the First Rank has arrived!" a servant proclaims, and Junhui gets up, albeit reluctantly.
"Greetings, Imperial Duke Zhongyong of the First Rank. I believe you have received the pouch last night?" the Baron asks excitedly. Junhui looks at him with a tired expression and nods. "Wonderful. In that case, I would like you to meet my youngest son."
Junhui tries his best to avoid looking at the shadowy figure appearing behind the Baron.
"Father, I already said that I do not want to be married in this way!" the figure shouts. "You cannot make me!" Junhui sees from his peripheral vision a male being tugged forth by two maids, and the voice sounds familiar.
The figure gasps, and it's one Junhui recognises. His eyes dart to the direction of the voice.
"Imperial Duke Zhongyong, my youngest son, Xu Minghao," Baron Xu introduces candidly.
"Minghao?" Junhui whispers in disbelief.
"Minghao. Greet Imperial Duke Zhongyong," commands the Baron, but Junhui lifts a hand to stop him.
"Call me Junhui," invites Junhui, and he fights back a smile when Minghao's face glows. "You may leave, Baron Xu. I thank your family." He waits until the Baron's family has left before rushing to Minghao.
"You are the Empress' younger brother?" Minghao's voice cracks, dashing into Junhui's embrace. "You were the one I was engaged to?"
"You never told me you were from a noble family too," Junhui admonishes, running his fingers through Minghao's hair.
"It would be shameful to admit that the son of a Baron decided to become a courtesan out of boredom."
"Maybe you are right, my Moonflower."
"I have already left the brothel, so you can stop calling me that, Junhui. You left without telling me your name, you scoundrel."
"You will always be my Moonflower," affirms the Duke, and Minghao laughs.
"I was so scared that I would be wedded off to an obese old man with erectile dysfunction." Minghao pulls away to cup Junhui's face, pressing their foreheads together, before eventually whispering how happy he is that fate pushed them together. Junhui opens his mouth to say something, but Minghao eats the words from his mouth. He gives in, and reciprocates with the same burning passion.
Junhui carries Minghao to his room, where he relishes in making his Moonflower his Imperial Duchess.