There used to be a soldier on the property, a guard at the gates, named Dai-Li. He was an older man with scars and a limp, but he always had the kindest smile, and whenever I would come by, he would pat my head and ruffle my hair with his callused hands, asking how my studies were coming along before reassuring me that the posts were secure.

He treated me like an adult even before I came of age, I considered him a dear friend, so when picking an alias, he was of course my first choice. What better name to choose than one that belonged to a man with such loyalty and genuine kindness? The original Dai-Li had died long ago, but I still remembered him, and when I went to the brothel to meet with the mistress, Lien-Hua, that is the name and position I used to introduce myself.

My name had done nothing, but when she heard I was a guard posted at the Lord’s gates, she quickly ushered me in with promises of her best girl. It pleased me that even a falsified position with the Lord Zhihao gave me such luxurious attention, but when I mentioned the boy, Zemin, her entire demeanor changed.

There was bitterness in her voice, wrinkles at the corners of her lips that proved her smiles were fake. The way she acted when Zemin came into the room reminded me of how my father acted around my brothers and me. She resented him, with a fury, and it concerned me. Anyone who held that much anger over someone is dangerous.

Even the way Zemin himself acted around her, and around me, the little flinches he made, the way his breath hitched almost unnoticeably, and especially the way he nervously played with the sash at his waist, were signs of fear or abuse. I recognized them from Guiren’s partner, Lyosha, and on occasion even Renshu showed the same signs, echoing memories of their past, conditioned responses that were beaten into them at a young age that never really left them.

His voice was as sweet as I’d expected, so soft and delicate, I almost had to strain my ears to catch his words. Leading me from the main house and out to the little shack I’d seen him in the night before, I was nervous, unsure of what I would say to him, but I figured I would have more time. I never expected him to stand and attempt to change his clothes, as if he assumed I didn’t like what he was wearing in the first place.

Granted, I didn’t, but only because I figured he deserved much better. What he was wearing seemed to be clashed colors and rags sewn together to make something presentable he could cover himself with, and it put a pain in my chest I didn’t appreciate. He should be dressed in fine silks and jewels, not… hand-me-downs patched with other hand-me-downs.

He was far too beautiful to be in such a hopeless position, one where he felt he needed to sell his body for money. It confused me, though. All the women in the brothel sold their bodies for money, and they lived like royalty in the home. Why was Zemin the only one sleeping and seeping in such poverty? It didn’t make sense.

“How did you come to live here?” I repeated my question from before, watching him twist the sash around his fingers, “How long have you been here?”

“My entire life,” he answered, eyes looking off to the side, “My niáng is a worker here. I was conceived between her and a client. I’ve never met my father.”

My eyes widened in shock, “Your mother was a prostitute… so why are you here?”

His eyes rose to me slowly, and there was a darkness I didn’t expect to see there, “It’s why I was born,” he whispered to me, like he was afraid of speaking any louder, “Niáng did not want me, but what could she have done? Her only option was to let me be born, and to put me to work, first as a yard hand, then later as a host.”

The pain in my chest was growing, and I shook my head in disbelief, “When did you start taking clients?”

“My first was when I was eight years old,” he answered me, “A merchant of the Silk Road. He saw me in the yard, mistook me for a girl, but never minded when he found I was a male. Niáng realized my usefulness when he took a liking to me, so she started setting me with clients.”

His hands were trembling slightly, so he curled them tightly together, staring straight ahead, “How old are you now?” I asked fearfully, and he seemed to pause in thought, like he couldn’t remember.

“Seventeen,” he answered finally, and I felt my breath catch in my throat, choking me.

He was so young, and he’d been giving men his body since he was even younger. Almost ten years. I couldn’t even imagine how much he’d been through. His mother was a prostitute, so he was born into this work. He didn’t have sex with men because he was desperate for money, he did it because he had no other choice.

“Zemin,” I reached out to him, and his eyes moved to meet mine before he tensed up as my fingers brushed over his cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

He looked shocked and uncertain, but he didn’t pull away from my hand. His gold eyes seemed to search my face, like he was gauging the honesty of my words, and when he couldn’t find any sign of deceit, he just looked lost and confused, close to tears. It seemed as if he truly couldn’t comprehend kindness, and that made my heart ache even worse.

I pulled my hand away, he remained frozen to the spot, watching as I took a small purse from my belt and set it down, giving him a warm smile, “Can I come back again?” I asked him, and his eyes widened a fraction more, red blooming on his cheeks before he nodded once.

Leaving him was painful, but I had to return home before Renshu checked my room again. By some miraculous stroke of luck, I managed to slip through my bedroom window and close the shutters, stripping all my clothes besides my pants, and jumping into my bed, right as the door opened and my protective guard peered into the room to make sure I was sleeping.

He had no idea I left the property on my own that night, and the next morning I was in a daze as I sat at the table with my brothers and my mother, unable to think of anything besides him, Zemin. Every time I closed my eyes I saw him as he was bathing in the pool, his skin smooth and pale, his inky hair like a veil down his back. I wanted to see him again, tonight.

“Deshi!” Sen’s voice screamed into my ear, and I jerked to the side while slapping at him, shoving him back with wide eyes.

“What?!”

“You weren’t paying attention,” Sen said simply, poking at me with his chopsticks before turning back to his plate of food.

I simply rubbed at my ear and glared at him before looking around the table, shocked to see everyone was staring at me.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetie?” my mother, Mai-Liang, was the one to ask from the head of the table, and I offered her the most reassuring smile I could manage.

Really it wasn’t that hard, I felt like I was floating, “I’m fine, mom. Better than fine.”

“Oh no, that doesn’t sound good at all,” Sen hummed, “He sounds like he’s on drugs.”

“Very funny,” Guiren scoffed at Sen, looking at me with a curious expression, “You’ve been acting weird since the festival. Did something happen?”

I laughed softly and shook my head, “No, it’s nothing. Is it that strange for me to be in a good mood?”

“I guess not,” Guiren hummed, looking down and lifting his cup, “Just hasn’t been happening very often is all.”

A frown took to my lips and I looked over to the young man sitting beside Guiren, his husband Lyosha, who was watching Guiren with a slight crease to his own mouth. He looked worried almost, but when he caught me staring he attempted a sweet smile.

“It’s probably stress,” he offered, “You always seem tired lately.”

“Oh,” I bowed my head, scratching the back of my neck, “I guess a little.”

It was strange, I never realized they noticed. I suppose staring into space can go unnoticed for only so long. My family wasn’t ignorant, it made sense they would have noticed how vacant and distant I was, and it also made sense how they wouldn’t have said anything immediately. How do you confront a close family member about their issues, anyway? Whatever way you did it, you sounded like an inconsiderate jackass.

“It’s fine,” I laughed, looking over at my mother with a smile, “I think I’ll be okay.”

The rest of the day was good, besides the fact I kept daydreaming and wishing I was with Zemin instead of in the office beside my bedroom studying land deals and similar problems a lord would run into. I felt that was kind of dumb considering I was the youngest, but Zhihao insisted each of his sons get the same education, just in case one of us was killed.

I found his reasoning incredibly suspicious, so did Sen and Guiren, but none of us ever brought it up when our father was around. That would have been a wildly irresponsible thing to do.