Chapter 42 [VIP]
"Changyou... Changyou?"
A faint fragrance lingered in the hall, dispelling its once silent and solemn atmosphere, transforming it into a place of extravagance. He often saw this gathering place of officials when he traveled south on official business. Candlelight reflected a crimson hue from paper cutouts, a color that mirrored the intoxicating aroma of fine wine, and laughter echoed amidst the swirling smoke. Music played, dancers and celestial children accompanied the guests; this so-called sanctuary was nothing more than a place of wine, sex, and lust.
Now he found himself in that place again, yet his body wouldn't obey him. Li Guiqing beside him transformed into the shadow of an old friend, Murong Qing's face flashed before him, faces overlapping one after another, the sound of the zither and laughter echoing in his ears.
The incense stick snapped with a "crack," and the burning ash fell to the ground.
Inside the Golden Palace, Xue Yi swallowed the bitter medicine and placed the teacup on the table.
"Song Zhao... say it again, who do you want to marry?"
“We have no intention of marrying her yet, as she is not yet of legal age. I wish to arrange a marriage for her, and we can discuss the wedding after she comes of age. Until then, she can be raised in my household, and I will take care of her,” Song Zhao said.
Xue Yi remained silent for a moment, looking at the person in front of him. He wished he hadn't woken up. He had just fallen ill, and now the palace was in chaos. First, the Qiu family came knocking, then Lu Xuejin moved out of the palace, and now Song Zhao had sent him a great gift.
"You want to get engaged to an eight-year-old girl? Even if I were the emperor, I probably couldn't grant this marriage." Xue Yi sighed. "In my opinion, if you bring this up again in five years, I might consider it. Or you can look at other women in the capital. As long as they are normal women between sixteen and twenty-five, I will grant your request."
“What do you think of Wei Ning? Meng Chang comes from a prestigious family in the capital and was our classmate. She is a perfect match for you… She has been unmarried for a long time, and her father comes to me every day to cry and complain. I am tired of hearing it. If you marry her, it will fulfill one of Old Master Wei’s wishes.”
Mentioning Wei Ning, Song Zhao recalled Wei Ning's previous veiled criticism of him for imitating others. He said, "I am not fortunate enough to marry Miss Wei. I only want Li Guiqing. I do not want any other woman besides her."
“She is not favored in the Prince of Bingliang’s residence, and her father favors his concubine. Rather than having to be subservient to others in the Prince of Yue’s residence, it would be better to bring her to my residence, where I will personally take care of her.”
"I don't think the Prince of Yue's daughter treats her badly. Let me consider this matter some more, what do you say?" Seeing Song Zhao's serious expression, Xue Yi turned the page without changing his tone. "Changyou... how is Changyou?"
“I have been waiting for him for several days, but he is determined not to come to see me,” Xue Yi said, his hand brushing against the letter written by Lu Xuejin on his desk. He had already read the letter, but had not yet given it to anyone.
“He has been busy overturning the verdict these past few days, and I’m afraid he may have some misunderstandings about His Majesty,” Song Zhao said.
Before he could finish speaking, a guard rushed in and said to Xue Yi, "Your Majesty, Lord Lu has gone to the Qiu residence, but the Qiu residence has not informed us."
"..." The hall fell silent. Xue Yi narrowed his eyes, a heavy, sickly aura surrounding him, radiating a deathly stillness.
"I have already released him, but he still thinks it's not enough."
Seeing this, Song Zhao said, "I will go. Your Majesty should stay in the palace; your health is of utmost importance."
"You stay here and meet with the court officials on my behalf. I will go and see for myself." Xue Yi stood up, coughed twice, and saw blood on his palm. He wiped it away with a handkerchief without changing his expression.
"Don't worry, I will take good care of myself. If I fall ill... wouldn't they want to divide and eat Changyou?"
What is permissible? What is impermissible?
A gentleman practices numerous rites, and the slightest carelessness can ruin all his previous efforts. It would be extremely easy to follow instinct and take the frivolous path, but this is not the way to do it. One should not succumb to desire, nor defile others, nor indulge in sensual pleasures. One should not be licentious, nor corrupt, nor harbor vain thoughts.
Upholding virtues and concealing loneliness, one's character is like a clear and beautiful jade, and one's virtue shines through others.
Lu Xuejin realized his consciousness was fading; he could no longer see Li Guiqing. The drug had rendered him unable to see, hear, or move; he couldn't tell where he was or what he was doing. All he could hear was the distant sound of a zither and lute playing from afar. The seductive music distracted him, his lips were parched, and an unnamed fire threatened to consume him.
If he loses himself here, if he becomes tainted by Miss Li, thus corrupting his character and causing suffering to children in the mortal world, he may have to atone with his death.
In a daze, he saw a mirror and his reflection. His face reflected the colors of worldly desires and passions, and having fallen into such a state, he was no different from a ghost.
Li Guiqing stood far away from him, looking at him with a fearful gaze.
Although there was no one in the hall, it felt as if a thousand, ten thousand eyes were watching him. He crawled towards the mirror, struggling to touch his reflection, his body feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds, sinking heavily downwards. The raging fire burned him, dragging his body towards the children not far away. Whether it was resentment or unspeakable pain, simply indulging in his sinking, venting his frustrations into something silent, would alleviate his current predicament.
Such a test of him... is truly disgusting.
With a loud crash, he bumped into the mirror. With a gentle push, the mirror shattered before him. Countless versions of himself scattered before him, his predicament disintegrating along with the shattering mirror. He grabbed the shards, blinding himself to the depravity within, thus preventing himself from seeing his fallen self.
Sharp shards grazed his skin, a sudden sharp pain shooting through his wrist. The pain silenced the surroundings, and crimson blood splattered out, seeping down and soaking into his robes. The seductive sounds around him vanished completely. He opened his eyes, his vision clearing. On his snow-white robe, a snow crane, its eyebrows and eyes stained crimson, spread its wings amidst the blood.
His palm was a bloody mess, and upon seeing the blood, Li Guiqing screamed. The scream summoned a mask of a demon, a mask he himself had put on.
“…Brother Changyou?” A deep voice came, and Murong Yue’s jaw tightened when he saw that he was injured.
"Someone is coming."
Lu Xuejin was helped up. He was relieved after hearing Murong Yue's voice; it was rare for a young man to find this place. The fragrance in the hall was intoxicating. He heard footsteps not far away. Murong Yue pressed on the wound on his wrist, and he was helped away from the place.
As he left the palace gates, he seemed to see the late emperor's voice and countenance. A gentleman should not bully the weak; even in times of adversity, he should not waver... nor should he be restless.
"Brother. They've sent men over. Let's hide first." A low voice came from beside his ear, but he could only see the blood on his wrist. The smell of blood made him dizzy and confused. The blood soaked through his robes, as if it was going to dye his whole body.
He was led by Murong Yue into an unknown hall, where the two of them hid together inside a cabinet. The carved cabinet was narrow and coffin-shaped, making it difficult for two adults to move around inside. Murong Yue grabbed his wrist, tore open his clothes, and quickly bandaged it.
However, the wound was too deep, and blood was still seeping out, dripping onto the edge of the cabinet, making the boy look anxious.
Lu Xuejin hadn't noticed the other person's words just now; the boy had already expressed himself clearly and completely. His consciousness was hazy, and he was unable to move around in the confined space. He only noticed that His Highness was unusually uneasy, and looking at the injury on his wrist, the anxiety and gloom seemed to be seeping out.
“Your Highness, these minor injuries are nothing to worry about,” he said.
As he spoke, the boy's breath touched his ear, and he caught sight of the boy's canine teeth beneath the mask. That sharp object had brushed against his ear, the sensation like a light, gentle scratch that slowly grazed his heart. A strange feeling rose in his chest again, and even the blood on his wrist seemed to heat up.
The pain is difficult to relieve.
Murong Yue's aura permeated him, spreading throughout the narrow space, from top to bottom, seeping into every part of his body with each breath. From the tips of his ears to his lips, to his waist, and then to his ankles. His eyes were clear and distinct, his eyelashes pressed down to avoid looking at him, but with each breath, his burning breath became impossible to ignore.
He applied slight pressure to his palm, his knuckles slowly tensing, and only a few syllables escaped his throat as he suppressed his emotions. Those syllables were despicable, and he didn't look at Murong Yue's expression, only thankful that the man before him hadn't woken up yet.
...He did not want His Highness to see him in such a wretched state.
"Brother Changyou." Murong Yue suddenly spoke. He saw the boy's finger bones, the slender fingers touching his wrist, and asked in a low voice, "Does it hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt, Your Highness." He immediately pressed the person down, preventing them from moving any further. He heard his own voice, then closed his eyes, only noticing a heavy gaze fixed on his face.
Footsteps sounded outside, and the two fell silent. The boy moved closer, his lips almost touching the boy's neck. He broke out in a sweat, barely managing to remain calm in the darkness. Apart from those few syllables, he uttered nothing more suggestive.
After the guards who had been searching left, Murong Yue took off his mask, revealing his original innocent expression, only his eyes and brows had become more profound. He stared at him and tapped his forehead.
Lu Xuejin paused slightly. The place where Li Guiqing had been in the hall was nothing short of a nightmare. It was His Highness who arrived in time and took him away from there. Thinking of this, he leaned over and kissed the boy on the forehead.
A handsome, cold face suddenly drew near, and his lips were bitten. The kiss, suppressing ferocity and violence, seemed to devour him, brutally trying to crush him. The composure and self-control he had just managed to maintain were completely shattered. The damp sweat turned into fragrance, and the cold mask in his hand hardened against his palm.
The scalding heat touched him, and Murong Yue completely devoured his reason, driving him toward a certain place. The snow-white layer of sweat on his neck was sticky, and he had a premonition that if he indulged this, he might really be chewed up and swallowed by the boy.
Before he could speak, the clever boy seemed to have guessed his thoughts, and the kiss abruptly stopped. Murong Yue lowered his head and kissed his wrist, saying to him, "Brother, let's go back."
“…No,” Lu Xuejin calmed down. He had come all this way, so he couldn’t leave empty-handed.
"Your Highness, when you came in just now, did you see which courtyard Qiu Xiong was in?" he asked.
The jade ring he gave me was a key to the back door; getting here required going around in circles. Hearing this, Murong Yue recalled, "The place with the most servants is to the west; it should be there."
Lu Xuejin pushed open the cabinet door and saw a long sword hanging above it. The sword's light gleamed, reflecting a cold light against the clear sky and bright moon.
“Perhaps I should have just killed him in prison, so that he could have been released without any further trouble.”
“Your Highness, please wait for me here. It won’t be long… just a quarter of an hour.”
Blood dripped from Lu Xuejin's wrist, spreading across the ground and meandering towards the west wing courtyard. He encountered several servants on the way, whose expressions immediately changed upon seeing him, and they hurriedly walked away.
The west courtyard was planted with a large expanse of peonies, signifying wealth and nobility; Qiu Xiong had occupied the best courtyard there. Qiu Xiong returned to his residence to recuperate, surrounded by layers of guards. When he drew his sword to approach, the guards immediately stopped him.
"Lord Lu, you cannot go in."
They hadn't expected anyone to come here, and they all exchanged glances. Lu Xuejin didn't take the guard's words to heart. A gentle smile appeared in his brown eyes as he leaned forward and touched the long sword in the guard's hand.
"If you two are going to stop me, you can simply do it here and turn me into a corpse. Otherwise, I will definitely go in today and take Qiu Xiongcai's life."
Lu Xuejin was pale from excessive blood loss. When he smiled, his face shone like a lotus flower. His words and actions were gentle yet firm, and his eyes were filled with justice as bright as the sun. His neck touched the long sword, which suddenly pierced his skin and drew a few drops of blood.
The blood, along with the bloodstains on his body, flowed by like a golden river, reflecting the clear blue of the hall.
The guards at the gate dared not make a move, disarmed and dropping their swords at Lu Xuejin's expression. They made way for her. No one in the court was unaware of Lord Lu's reputation; he punished the wicked and promoted the virtuous, only executing the most heinous criminals. Even though they might lose their lives for dereliction of duty today, their conscience prevented them from harming the young man before them in the slightest.
Qiu Xiongcai, still recovering from his injuries in bed, had been acquitted and brought back this morning, his mind filled with thoughts of revenge. Unbeknownst to him, his enemy had already transformed into the unseen enforcer of the law, coming to claim his life. Serving in the court, due to the complexities of power, there were always various reasons that allowed even the most heinous criminals to escape the law.
Lu Xuejin tapped the ground with his longsword, his figure shrouded in shadow, where drops of blood bloomed into flowers. His face was like a painting, transforming him into a righteous and ghostly figure, and wherever he went, the wicked showed fear.
The white paper flowers in the courtyard, the suicide note hidden on the beam, and the bloodstains clearly revealed the injustice. He seemed to see the two dismembered children and the couple hanging from the beam, all looking at the man on the bed, as if to witness the moment when the injustice was redressed.
Qiu Xiongcai saw the person, and his swollen eyes immediately filled with endless terror. He let out a miserable scream as if he had seen a ghost. But it was too late; the longsword had already pierced his throat. The young man wielding the longsword had a calm expression; in his dying moments, he looked at Qiu Xiongcai as if he were nothing more than a silent blade of grass.
"His Majesty has arrived." With this announcement, Xue Yi and Qiu Fuze entered the west wing together.
This scene immediately came into view.
A vibrant red bloomed amidst the snow, blood staining Lu Xuejin's face and neck, indistinguishable between her own and another's. Qingchen's face remained calm and composed, like a lotus flower before a Buddha stained with blood. The young man, seeing them, raised an eyebrow; his breath was weak from today's ordeal, and he appeared to be on the verge of collapse, yet his expression was remarkably clear.
"My son—my son—" Qiu Fuze's eyes turned red instantly, and he uttered a shrill cry.
Xue Yi saw the person and immediately realized she was injured. He stared at the distinct bloodstains on Lu Xuejin's wrist, which became incredibly glaring, and he wished he could take her place.
“…Changyou,” Xue Yi said, “come to my side.”
A note from the author:
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