Chapter 35 [VIP]

Lu Xuejin went to the scene of the crime and found the local people who were in charge that day, and learned the whole story.

That day, Qiu Xiongcai was drunk. Two children of a street vendor accidentally bumped into someone. Qiu Xiongcai flew into a rage and ordered his men to tie the two children to a horse and drag them to their deaths on the ground. The screams of the children echoed through the streets, yet silence fell.

He found a witness, ordered his guards to stay at the witness's house, and then went to see Song Zhao. The details of the case were now clear, and he told Song Zhao about it. Song Zhao was clearly troubled by the matter.

Song Zhao said, “Even if we arrest Qiu Xiongcai, Qiu Fuze is still out there and he won’t let it go. I have already ordered all the salt merchants in the capital to prepare salt in case Qiu Fuze stops opening the salt warehouses. In that case, we will have no choice but to release him.”

“Thank you for your trouble,” Lu Xuejin said. “The Qiu family’s salt-making method originated in Yancheng. Why don’t you send someone to Yancheng? There are two brothers surnamed Bi in Yancheng who had dealings with the Qiu family two hundred years ago. If we can find their descendants, we might be able to find a way to break the curse.”

Upon hearing this, Song Zhao looked at him, his eyes shining brightly, and asked him for his reason.

"..." Lu Xuejin said quietly, "About ten years ago, I went to their house. My father took me to a banquet. I didn't go to crowded places, and Wei Ning and I accidentally stumbled into the Qiu family's library. We spent an afternoon there and looked at some of the Qiu family's books. Many of them were diaries from when they first got rich, which mentioned that a brother surnamed Bi had done things for their family. I don't know if this is true or not. You can send someone to investigate, and you'll know for sure."

“Your memory is quite good,” Song Zhao said. Mentioning Wei Ning, he paused and said, “Since Wei Ning knows about this, we may have to trouble her with this matter. I will send someone to invite her to Yancheng.”

The fact that Wei Ning was deliberately transferred away clearly showed that Song Zhao was still wary of him. He couldn't help but sigh and said to Song Zhao, "There's no need to ask my opinion on this matter. If it benefits the people, she won't say a word against it."

"Thank you very much, Lord Song. I will plead your case before the Emperor because of your upright and virtuous character," Lu Xuejin said thoughtfully.

"..." Song Zhao said coldly, "No need."

Lu Xuejin lifted the curtain. "Well then... Song Zhao, see you later."

He was so busy with this matter that he forgot the time and returned to the palace in the evening.

Upon returning to Fangze Palace, Ziyan was not there. He glanced inside; a whole day had passed, and Xue Yi remained so well-behaved. Thinking this, he stepped into the palace and caught sight of a corner of a dark brocade robe.

Xue Yi had arrived at some point and was sitting in his usual spot in the middle of the night, the table gleaming with a blood-stained silver light. A bloodstained dagger lay there.

Lu Xuejin couldn't help but ask, "Since you've come, why don't you light a lamp?"

As he asked the questions, he lit the candlesticks himself. The flames illuminated their faces, and his gaze lingered briefly on the dagger.

Xue Yi: "I killed a fish halfway here. Why should I light a lamp when I'm all alone here? This lamp... will only be lit when it's just the two of us."

"I see." Lu Xuejin wanted to bring up today's case, but before he could speak, he saw the guards outside the door enter. The candlelight made Xue Yi's cheeks appear even paler, with a sickly flush. Xue Yi stared at him intently.

"I have something else to show Changyou today. A few days ago I saw a play that wasn't finished, and I've been wanting Changyou to see it too."

As Xue Yi spoke, the guards carried someone in. The person carried in was a handsome actor with delicate features. His face was painted with white paint; his naturally fair skin was barely concealed by his half-open costume, revealing glimpses of his slender, almost ethereal white skin. The corners of his eyes were painted with large patches of red, giving him a charmingly alluring appearance, and his eyes were like hooks.

Seeing the man's makeup, Lu Xuejin glanced at him twice and then looked away.

Guards carried the man in, while palace servants carried trays of various items. There were jade-like ointments and objects made of wood resembling male genitalia. They were arranged in rows according to size. The male actor, not showing any fear in the hall, began to sing softly.

A voice, sounding like a woman's, pierced through the beams of the hall, its lingering notes landing beside the ears. As the song continued, the guards began to apply the jade cream to the actress's body. When it touched the actress's legs, the actress let out a trembling sound.

The singing gradually changed, from a low, melodious tone to a low, whimpering sound like erotic lyrics.

Lu Xuejin's thoughts drifted elsewhere, the sky outside was overcast. She wondered how Qiu Xiongcai was doing in prison, whether he could bring the people to justice, and whether he could clear the name of the lamplight merchant couple.

"...Changyou?" Xue Yi called out to him when he saw him lost in thought.

The groans of others in the hall became the curtain, and Lu Xuejin finally came to his senses. Looking at the so-called good show in front of him, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart.

"Is this the good show you were talking about, brother?" he asked.

The blush on Xue Yi's face hadn't faded, and the blood on the bright red dagger was gradually congealing. He watched as Xue Yi's lips moved, but the person had transformed into someone he had never seen before. The person before him was no longer his former brother, but a monster driven by narrow desires.

A ghost, disguised in Xue Yi's skin, sat opposite him, whispering something. This palace, rife with intertwined power, housed many monsters. These monsters had dismembered Xue Yi, transforming him into humanoid figures composed of wisps of black mist, mimicking the speech of the former Xue Yi, seemingly still the same person. He could see the difference through the gaps, knowing that the person before him had devoured his family.

Xue Yi: "What does Changyou think of this play?"

Lu Xuejin stared at the pale-skinned actor, who had transformed into a silent, groaning ghost. The ghost's cries contained a sharp, agonizing scream, inaudible to everyone around, but he heard it.

"All I saw was... people suffering because of their brothers."

The backyard of Fangze Palace.

Ziyan and Tengluo stayed together. Tengluo's hands were covered in blood, and tears were about to fall from her eyes. Seeing that the bleeding on Murong Yue's body could not be stopped, her hands trembled, and she couldn't help but ask, "Hasn't the doctor arrived yet?"

As soon as the words were spoken, the door to their courtyard was pushed open, and a doctor rushed over. The boy on the bed was covered in blood, his face pale and bluish, and his breathing was weak.

Tengluo finally let go and quickly made way for the doctor. Her hands and face were stained with Murong Yue's blood, and she kept crying. Then she heard the actors' voices coming from the main hall, their mournful voices seeming to be singing a dirge for the Ninth Prince.

"Tengluo, don't be sad. Trust His Highness the Ninth Prince." Ziyan wanted to comfort Tengluo, but couldn't say anything. Her chest felt tight. The young man in front of her had only just recovered from his injury last time, and now this had happened again. His Majesty was pushing people to their deaths.

"Doctor, how is his injury?" Ziyan asked.

The doctor didn't speak, but sweat beaded on his forehead. The boy on the bed was already half-dead. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, and could only say, "I'll try my best."

Outside, the rain mingled with the gloom, and their place was deathly silent. After a while, Lu Xuejin's personal guard pushed open the courtyard gate and said to Ziyan, "His Majesty has sent people to the side courtyard to deal with the Ninth Prince's body."

Someone has to go. If they find out that the Ninth Prince is missing, they might not survive this time. Tengluo wiped away her tears and said, "I'll go."

Ziyan was slightly surprised. She glanced at Tengluo; the little girl hadn't suffered much following Lu Xuejin, so it seemed she truly cared for her. Being confined in a body bag must have been unpleasant. She didn't say anything, only sighed inwardly.

The wisteria followed the guards away, and the candlelight in the backyard flickered. The blood-soaked wound was stitched up one by one, and as the bleeding stopped, the doctor wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked at the boy's weak but steady breathing and couldn't help but marvel at his tenacious vitality.

"Doctor Jia's miraculous healing skills are truly those of a divine physician reborn," Ziyan said.

“It’s not my skill,” Physician Jia couldn’t help but say. “He was not destined to die; it was the will of Heaven.”

He took out the letter that had been placed on the boy's chest. The gold foil on it was twisted from being pierced by the dagger; it was only thanks to the hardness of the gold that the boy's life was saved. But the pain he endured was like walking on the edge of life and death each time, extremely dangerous, and only those who had experienced it knew the extent of the peril.

The torrential rain fell, washing away the blood along with it, and the candlelight went out.

Murong Yue's forehead was covered in cold sweat. He fell into a deep sleep and drifted into a dream.

In his dream, he saw Xue Yi's dagger, but couldn't react in time, watching helplessly as it pierced his heart. Like an arrow whistling past his ear, it pierced his chest again through the trees of the hunting grounds. His blood flowed into the cracks of the floor tiles, and his body groaned with difficulty.

Something intolerable... The same thing happened right before his eyes.

...His blood became a river. His father's and mother's corpses were within it, his uncle's face appearing repeatedly, his anger turning to a deathly calm, pierced by a despairing oppression. A dense storm fell, carrying his remains towards an unknown river.

Those gloomy, somber, bloody, violent, painful, and regretful emotions—emotions called darkness—devoured him. He allowed himself to be torn apart by these emotions, the dagger his enemy had plunged into his heart becoming the weapon he used to commit the murders. Unable to bear the humiliation of defeat, he would rather become an enemy and tear himself to pieces.

Miscalculation. Miscalculation. Miscalculation. Miscalculation. Miscalculation. Miscalculation.

Before they could react.

Always one step behind. Always miscalculating. Always slightly inferior. Always unable to overthrow the enemy. Always unable to take revenge. Always unable to turn the tide. Always subservient. Always subordinate to others. Always killed by the enemy.

Anger. Useless. Reckless. Impulsive. Patience. Slow to react.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

Dead. Already dead. Dead. Killed by the enemy. Lost to the enemy. Ruined. Victory or defeat is already decided.

Fool. Belief. Father's doting. Mother's indulgence. Self-righteous wisdom. Dull self. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Must die to prove his innocence. His corpse hung before the city wall for all to see. The Murong family line extinguished. No life. No one comes. No hope. No future. No afterlife.

Thoughts paused, fragmented, chaotic pieces of memory occasionally surfaced, then flashed across a face. Brown eyes, a clear and bright face, a refined and otherworldly quality. It made his corpse piece itself back together, wanting to appear completely before this person.

This person. A lifesaver. A person of joy. What I desire. What I like. A beloved person. Like jade, like precious gems. A virtuous and refined gentleman. Someone I would protect with my life. Someone I would worry about. The person I cherish.

The one I love.

The person I cherish most besides my parents.

People on the other side.

The person who will piece him back together.

The person who brought him back to life.

Do not be discouraged. Do not give up. Do not despair. Do not self-destruct. Do not show weakness. Do not calmly succumb to despair. Do not lose your way in dire straits.

Wake up. Wake up quickly. Wake up. Wake up. Live on. Live on. Pain is fleeting, an adornment before the bright moon, which, as time flows by, will fade into the morning star that accompanies the moon.

He seemed to hear the mournful singing of an actor, and opened his eyes in the darkness, his whole body drenched in cold sweat. As if he had just woken from a hazy dream, he fell into a coma. He gasped for breath, a sharp pain in his chest causing his pupils to sag, and he almost saw himself again, torn to pieces.

It wasn't his parents or siblings who died, but him.

It wasn't him who survived, but the maggots that parasitized Mingyue.

...Brother. Changyou-ge.

Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Brother. Changyou Brother.

He saw his body transform into countless cracks, from which many figures rushed out, scattering to escape this body and head towards the place where the young man lived. Dragging his heavy body, his fan-shaped eyes opened like a ghost, he was dragged by those little demons towards the main hall.

Brother is here. Brother is inside. Brother Changyou is inside.

His body was soaked by the rain, and he saw his pale face reflected in the rain. His blood had been drained, and he couldn't tell if the things in the rain were human or ghosts. He only knew that he was heading towards the main hall to see his only remaining relative in the human world.

He heard a melodious low voice. Two figures appeared through the window, and the low voice transformed into an indescribable groan with their movements. He could no longer discern its meaning; only the blood flowing from his chest, staining the floor tiles of the hall.

Perhaps he was already dead, dying in regret and shame. He saw the little fish in the water, its body covered in bites, barely alive, and it rolled belly up in front of him, dying just like that.

ah--

A bolt of lightning suddenly struck him beside him, causing his chest to heave violently. His frail body could not bear the pain, and he knelt before the pillar, his back bent low. He looked at the moonlight and couldn't help but laugh, but the laughter grew increasingly mournful as the sounds and sights from the inner palace grew more desolate. The trumpet creeper on the palace wall was shattered in the wind and rain.

The actor was carried out shortly afterward, and the guards withdrew.

Lu Xuejin was inside the hall, while Xue Yi stood outside, the two facing each other across the rain. The raindrops formed a silent bridge, through which a profound silence spread.

"I originally had something I wanted to say to my brother... but now it seems that if I bring it up today, I'm afraid it will disturb your interest."

"The play was good, but I sensed a hint of sorrow in it. Even an actor shouldn't be treated with such contempt. I hope you will take him back and take good care of him."

"See you later."

After Lu Xuejin finished speaking, he saw that Xue Yi's face was as pale as paper. He did not back down until he saw the person leave, and then he withdrew his gaze.

Those days are gone forever.

Before he could take two steps, thunder rumbled and the sky suddenly brightened, revealing the fallen boy. Murong Yue lay beneath the main hall's pillars, rain and blood mingling indistinguishably around him.

...After not seeing him for even a day, the person before me seemed as fragile as if he could be broken at the slightest touch.

A note from the author: