After Drugging the Female Lead with an Aphrodisiac (Ancient-Style Lily Futa) - Chapter 2

On the surface, Lu Qian’s shop mainly dealt in food and snacks. Occasionally, she would also play the role of a divine physician, stepping in to treat people with difficult or complicated illnesses. The old madams in the various noble households—who had no idea what “three highs” even meant—particularly trusted the tonic food recipes she prescribed. They claimed that by following her meal plans, their symptoms of dizziness and chest tightness had indeed improved significantly.

Not to mention the women and young children in their families: issues like years of absent periods leading to infertility, or dull complexions with withered hair and poor spleen and stomach function—all of these were gradually nursed back to health under her care.

After treating so many noble ladies, Lu Qian naturally became a frequent and welcomed guest in quite a few prominent households across Jinling City.

Her maidservant A-Yao once ran into Jianjia in the twelfth lunar month and, during their spat, had even boasted: who knows, one day the Duke’s household might have to beg her own young miss to step over their threshold.

See—A-Yao was extremely proud of her mistress.

Never mind whether Lu Qian would ever deign to cross the Duke’s threshold, but if A-Yao were to see the particular threshold her young miss had just crossed right now, her eyeballs would surely pop right out of her head and roll onto the ground.

Indeed, A-Yao could never have imagined that her young miss—after using an excuse to shake her off—had immediately turned around and slipped into the misty-willow pleasure quarters along the Qinhuai River. At least her young miss still had some sense of propriety: she wore a hood to somewhat conceal her face and entered through a side door in a back alley.

At this hour, the magnificent lanterns had just been lit. After knocking under cover of night, Lu Qian was led by a little maid all the way up to a private room in a corner on the second floor. After pouring tea, the maid said the guest should wait a moment—their girl was currently receiving a client and would come shortly.

This wasn’t Lu Qian’s first time here. With a slight nod, she dismissed the little maid. She took off her cloak, sipped from the teacup, then faintly furrowed her brow. Today’s flower tea was too sweet.

Lu Qian disliked sweetness, so she set the cup down. She had no interest in the pastries on the table either, and simply sat staring blankly at the candle stand by the window.

The candle stand stood in front of a carved wooden partition hung with gauze curtains. Beyond it was a large canopy bed covered in bright red brocade quilts. With the entire room lit by red-shaded candles, the atmosphere truly carried a certain nuptial, candlelit-wedding-night allure—making Lu Qian, sitting there in her plain white robes, appear all the more out of place.

Outside the window flowed the Qinhuai River. The faint, leisurely sound of a pipa drifted for a long while before finally concluding. Then came men’s cheers and applause. Lu Qian felt somewhat irritated. E-Jun must have been delayed today—how was it that the singing girls on the flower boats had already finished an entire ci tune, yet there was still no sign of her?

Perhaps due to the irritation—or perhaps growing thirst—Lu Qian picked up the teacup again and took another sip. The already cooled tea slid down her throat. In the first lunar month it should have sent a shiver through anyone, but perhaps because the room had so many candles burning, combined with the unique, cloying fragrance typical of brothels, it only made her feel stifled and hot. Before she realized it, more than half the cup was gone.

Even at this point, she still hadn’t noticed anything wrong—only that she felt a little warm. She set the tea down, walked to the window, and pushed the lattice outward.

The southern winter night’s breeze blew in, carrying the sound of strings and woodwinds more clearly into her ears. The cool wind hit her, and suddenly Lu Qian felt clear-headed again.

Almost immediately, she sensed something strange about her body.

Just then, the door to the private room was gently knocked three times. Lu Qian turned back and stared coldly at the door without responding.

After two breaths, the door panel was pushed open from outside. Jiang Xiyue’s smug face appeared. Unable to suppress her glee, she strode in accompanied by two men, looking Lu Qian up and down.

When she saw the unnatural flush on the other’s face, she couldn’t help but laugh viciously:

“Oh my~ Isn’t this the pure and chaste Miss Lu? Why isn’t such a fine lady staying home on a big night like this, and instead coming to a place like this? Can’t stand the loneliness anymore and craving a man?”

Covering her mouth with her sleeve, she giggled: “What perfect timing! This Drunken Spring Pavilion has upwards of a hundred men upstairs and down—plenty for Miss Lu to choose from, ahahaha~”

Jiang Xiyue let out a string of silvery, bell-like laughter, as though she had just told the funniest joke.

Unfortunately for her, Lu Qian—already beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiac—was not panicking, not falling to her knees begging for mercy. Instead, she continued to regard Jiang Xiyue with those same calm, indifferent eyes that had always seemed to disregard status.

And when Jiang Xiyue was laughing, those pale, thin lips even curved into a mocking arc.

Jiang Xiyue’s laughter died instantly. That single mocking smile stung her eyes. She snarled viciously:

“You little slut, do you even know what these men I brought are for? They’re here to be your bridegrooms! Getting two bridegrooms at once—what heavenly bliss! You don’t even need to thank me!”

Aside from her increasingly unsteady breathing, Lu Qian didn’t so much as flinch. Watching this made Jiang Xiyue’s blood boil even more. She waved her handkerchief at the two deliberately chosen ugly men.

The two grotesquely twisted faces leered as they advanced toward Lu Qian. Jiang Xiyue put her smug smile back on, her eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction:

“You can enjoy yourself here first. Don’t worry—after a while, I’ll send someone to fetch Brother Jingyuan and give you a proper wedding night.”

Jiang Xiyue tucked away her handkerchief, lifted her chin, and turned to leave, too lazy to watch how the two men would torment Lu Qian. In any case, that surnamed-Lu wretch probably wouldn’t make any noise for quite a while—she had no patience to wait.

Jiang Xiyue strolled leisurely to the door. Her hand had just touched the door panel when two muffled thuds came from behind, followed by the sound of heavy bodies hitting the floor. She turned back in confusion.

There stood Lu Qian, perfectly fine on her feet, while the two carefully selected ugly melons had collapsed limply to the ground, their bodies soft and lifeless-looking. Jiang Xiyue was so shocked she slammed her back against the door:

“You… you know martial arts?!”

A layer of damp sweat had already stuck to Lu Qian’s back; her soaked inner robe clung uncomfortably to her skin. Burning with heat, she stared at the culprit responsible for today’s ordeal, yet her gaze grew colder and colder.

As the most flamboyantly bouncing flower among Pan Jingyuan’s rotten peach blossoms, Jiang Xiyue had always left quite an impression on Lu Qian. Previously, the girl had tried all sorts of petty schemes, but because she was stupid enough to fail spectacularly every time, she usually smashed her own foot before Lu Qian even needed to lift a finger. Lu Qian had always treated her as nothing more than a source of amusement. Who would have thought the Duke’s second young miss would actually have the guts to drug someone with an aphrodisiac.

Truly vicious—and truly stupid.

The corner of Lu Qian’s mouth lifted slightly, splitting into a thin, icy smile.

Jiang Xiyue’s scalp tingled at that smile. One hand fumbled behind her for the door latch while her mouth kept babbling:

“You—you stay back! Let me tell you, I bought this drug from a Western Regions barbarian monk. I don’t have the antidote! The monk said that if you don’t copulate with someone within half an hour after taking it, you’ll die with blood flowing from all seven orifices! Even if you kill those two men it won’t help—you’ll still have to find another man!”

The more panicked she became, the less she could find the latch. Yet at the other end of the room, Lu Qian began to move. She took one step forward, stepping over the now-silent men on the floor, then stumbled slightly as her footing faltered. Jiang Xiyue’s heart eased a fraction. So what if Lu Qian knew some martial arts? Once the aphrodisiac fully took hold, she still wouldn’t be able to resist.

But then Lu Qian steadied herself against the table in the room. She picked up the teacup, glanced down at it with lowered eyes, and finally spoke:

“Heh… go find another man, is it…”

Those ink-jade eyes lifted from below and locked onto her. Jiang Xiyue suddenly felt an overwhelming, inexplicable terror. Why was this surnamed-Lu looking at her like that? She—she wasn’t a man!

Her hand finally found the latch. Jiang Xiyue gripped it tightly, about to yank the door open—when Lu Qian suddenly tilted her head back and drained the rest of the tea in one gulp. Then she lunged forward.

The back of Jiang Xiyue’s head slammed against the door panel with a thud. Before her pained cry could escape, her lips were sealed. A scorching, hard object forced its way past her lips with wild aggression. Jiang Xiyue’s eyes widened in shock as the slightly warmed tea—carried by Lu Qian’s tongue—was poured into her mouth.

“Mmph… mmph…”

Jiang Xiyue shook her head desperately, trying to escape Lu Qian’s lips and tongue. The next moment, Lu Qian’s hand snaked upward and clamped onto her jaw. Those brutally strong fingers locked her chin in place. Pinned by the tongue pressing inside her mouth, Jiang Xiyue had no choice but to swallow the tea Lu Qian was forcing down her throat.

“Cough… cough…”

The tea was fully swallowed. Lu Qian finally released her lips and stepped back. Jiang Xiyue coughed wretchedly, water stains dripping from the corners of her mouth. Before her stood the woman who usually seemed untouched by worldly dust—her jade-like face now covered in a feverish flush, yet her eyes were intensely captivating.

With one hand gripping Jiang Xiyue’s collar, Lu Qian pulled their bodies flush together. Her naturally thin, indifferent pale lips had turned cherry-red from the fierce kiss. In a voice that sent chills down the spine, Lu Qian drawled softly:

“A woman can do just fine, can’t she?”