When the imperial kitchen served lunch, Qin Duoye had just woken up. He untied a silk ribbon that secured the bed curtains and casually tied up his loose hair into a low ponytail. Wearing somewhat oversized sleeping robes, he walked out of the inner chamber. Qin Xuanqiao looked up and happened to see Qin Duoye walking out leisurely. The dark sleeping robes made his skin appear even fairer by sharp contrast. The low neckline of the robes exposed the swollen, red bite marks on his shoulder and neck, looking exceptionally alluring. Qin Xuanqiao suddenly felt that this table of lunch was completely tasteless. Instead, his teeth felt itchy, and he wanted to eat something else. He reached out, placed a dish of braised fish right in front of Qin Duoye’s seat, and said, This is a new fish dish made by the imperial kitchen today. Care to try it? Qin Duoye gave the plate of fish a cool glance. No need, I don’t eat fish. Qin Xuanqiao’s hand paused. A flash of dangerous light crossed his narrow phoenix eyes as he stared at Qin Duoye, who was leisurely rinsing his bowls and chopsticks with tea. Not fond of fish? Qin Xuanqiao’s mind flashed back to the investigative confidential report submitted by Chixuan yesterday, which stated that before Wen Qinghe fell ill, he often invited neighbors to go fishing by the river. Because he loved fish dishes, he always studied them, and his skill in cooking fish was top-tier. Occasionally, he even shared the fish he caught with the neighboring children. That was why Qin Xuanqiao had specifically instructed Gou Hongyang today to have the imperial kitchen prepare more fish dishes with extra care. Why wasn’t he eating fish now? Without showing any change in expression, Qin Xuanqiao put the plate back in its place and sat down to have lunch with him. Yet, out of the corner of his eye, like a wolf locking onto its prey, he swept his gaze over the person beside him from time to time. Qin Duoye’s table manners were exceedingly noble. His jade chopsticks were held gracefully between slender fingers to pick up dishes, placing them elegantly into his mouth. He only took small amounts of each dish, eating with disciplined restraint, slow yet decisive. It was impossible to tell what his preferences were, nor whether he was hungry or not. Every gesture and movement carried the aura of an aristocrat or a scion of a powerful elite family. Perhaps this was the upbringing of the Wen family? Qin Xuanqiao suppressed the doubts in his heart. After the meal, Gou Hongyang cleared away the dining table neatly. With a sharp thud, Qin Xuanqiao placed a bowl of thick, pitch-black medicinal soup onto the table. Qin Duoye: … Your Majesty, Qin Duoye felt that his body was currently in top-notch shape. Pointing at the soul-reaping medicinal soup, he wore an expression of rejection, I don’t want my second year of salary to vanish as well. If you aren’t drink it voluntarily, I can feed you. Qin Duoye: … Qin Duoye snatched up the medicine bowl, closed his eyes with the air of one facing certain death, and downed the herbal soup in one breath. Then, filled with bitter resentment, he slammed the bowl down hard onto the table, pressing a hand to his chest to suppress the rising wave of nausea and vomiting. Are you afraid of bitterness? Qin Xuanqiao suddenly leaned in closer, studying Qin Duoye’s complexion with absolute certainty. Qin Duoye rolled his eyes and ignored him. Finally, when the bitterness in his mouth gradually subsided, he opened his mouth to make a request: When can I go home? Home? Qin Xuanqiao’s palm climbed up to the back of Qin Duoye’s neck, his thumb stroking the side of his neck, feeling the slight pulsation of the blood vessels. He ground his teeth. The sensation of having someone’s life completely grasped in his palm made Qin Xuanqiao extraordinarily excited. A hint of danger laced his voice: Didn’t esteemed official say you wanted the status of a male concubine? If you aren’t living in the palace, why go home? As he spoke, Qin Xuanqiao kept closing the distance. Qin Duoye tilted his head back slightly, only to find Qin Xuanqiao’s head drawing nearer and nearer, until his cool breath sprayed against the side of his neck and the soft touch of lips brushed against the skin of his throat. Qin Duoye instantly grew alert. Is this mad dog going to bite again?! With a crisp slap, he knocked away Qin Xuanqiao’s hand and pushed his head back, scolding playfully, Keep your hands to yourself. I didn’t say I wouldn’t live in the palace. I’m just going home to pack my luggage and will return in a couple of days with bags packed to the brim. When that happens, I hope Your Majesty won’t disdain me and will open the palace gates wide to take in this humble official. Qin Xuanqiao froze, his phoenix eyes widening slightly. He had anticipated that this person would try to run away, either using an excuse to stay far away from the imperial palace and himself, or playing a delaying tactic by hiding behind the officials and asking for protection. He simply never expected that the man meant what he said, truly intending to enter the palace without a single thought of fleeing. Qin Xuanqiao had read the compiled information on him. Wen Qinghe was the quintessential traditional civil official of his era, he read rigid books, held stubborn principles, lacked flexibility or adaptability, viewed classic texts as immutable laws, yet was timid and cowardly, unequal to great responsibilities. Yet such a person was exceptionally skilled at taking examinations and possessed a decent memory. An old Mingjing at thirty, a young Jinshi at fifty, he did have a modicum of capability. In his twenties, he passed the palace examination to become a Shujishi, studied in the Wenyuan Pavilion for three years, was appointed to a seventh-rank official post, and then fumbled and climbed his way through five or six years. He had no major faults, kept a low profile, caused no trouble, and worked diligently and conscientiously. His character was passable, he spoke entirely of rigid propriety and national principles, possessing the unyielding backbone of an impoverished scholar. He did not bully those below him, but feared those above him, thus slowly accumulating seniority and crawling his way up to the fifth rank. Among the younger generation of commoner-born officials, he did possess a certain reputation and rallying power. However, a person like Wen Qinghe should have peaked at this position. Anything higher would entangle him in the intersecting powers of aristocratic families. Although he shared the surname Wen, he was a long-ago separated branch of the Wen clan. By now, the family line had withered, leaving only Wen Qinghe himself. His capabilities could not break through this class ceiling. Such was the intelligence gathered by Chixuan. There was simply no way to reconcile that with his current demeanor, audacious, unrestrained, casual, fearless, and… devoid of respect for superiors? The Wen Qinghe in the documents was timid and suffered from imposter syndrome, whereas the Wen Qinghe right in front of him possessed the aura of someone who considered himself the undisputed master of the world. Qin Xuanqiao could not see through those ink-black eyes, nor could he fathom what motives lay behind his actions. The whole person was filled with a contradictory sense of disconnection, as if he had peeled off Wen Qinghe’s skin and replaced it with an entirely different soul. Existing in a completely different, vast world. Qin Xuanqiao stood dazedly inside the hall, watching the retreating figure of Qin Duoye. The blazing midday sunlight poured over him, making it seem as though he were coated in a layer of dazzling gold. After a brief trance, Qin Xuanqiao suddenly lowered his gaze and chuckled softly. The doubt in his eyes dissipated, replaced by complete chilliness. Gou Hongyang, send Wen Qing home. Don’t let him die halfway there. Inability to see through him did not mean he would allow himself to be led by the nose. The man was merely an entertaining plaything, finding him amusing for now, he would let him keep his life for a couple of days. Chixuan. A shadow of red and black flashed into view, kneeling before Qin Xuanqiao. Send people to follow Wen Qinghe. Monitor him. Bring back every single word and action of his to present to me. Chixuan replied, As you command. *** Fortunately, there was Gou Hongyang. Thinking this, Qin Duoye looked into the distance and spotted a gate. So Wen Qinghe’s home was located here. His memories regarding Wen Qinghe were not extensive, and conveniently lacked his home address. He had good reason to be grateful to the young Emperor for having the chief eunuch escort him back. Gou Hongyang was exceedingly taciturn. No matter how Qin Duoye tried to strike up a conversation along the way, the old eunuch didn’t utter a single sound. Qin Duoye was actually quite satisfied with this. After all, when serving closely beside the Emperor, how could someone with a loose tongue be trusted? Having escorted him to his destination, Gou Hongyang gave a slight bow and departed. Qin Duoye stood before the somewhat aged and faded door, raised his hand, and knocked on the door ring. Creeak. The door opened, and a half-grown youth poked his head out. The moment he laid eyes on Qin Duoye, a look of joyful surprise broke across his face. Master! The youth pushed the door wide open, hurried over to support Qin Duoye by the arm, and looked on the verge of tears, You’ve finally returned! The very instant he saw the youth, fragmented memory snippets flashed through Qin Duoye’s mind. This belonged to Wen Qinghe’s memories. The youth was named Sanjiu, whom Wen Qinghe had rescued. That year, a severe winter blizzard collapsed civilian houses and froze many people to death. At that time, Sanjiu was just a young child clutching a cloth quilt dug out from a snowdrift, curled up in the corner of a stone lion outside a household opposite his own to escape the biting wind. Wen Qinghe was a scholar then, preparing for the provincial examinations. His parents had passed away long ago, leaving him only a residence in the capital, meager family property, and a few mu of farmland in the suburban outskirts. With no income coming into the household, relying solely on his parents’ savings and living frugally, their days could only be described as impoverished. Back then, as he walked along the bluestone-paved alley with a heavy bookcase strapped to his back, the snow beneath his feet crunched sharply. The gale was fierce and biting, slashing at people’s faces like knives. The opposite household swung open their main gate, splashed a basin of dirty water outside, and cursed at the child, Scram, get lost! Don’t freeze to death at our master’s doorstep, how unlucky. Wen Qinghe’s heart softened. He called the child inside and ladled out a bowl of hot rice soup for him. Sanjiu did not reach out to take the soup. Instead, he dropped straight to his knees, declaring that he could work hard and eat very little, asking only for a shed to shelter through the bitter winter. Wen Qinghe agreed. Later on, Sanjiu became Wen Qinghe’s page boy. The youth was clever and took meticulous care of people. Later still, Wen Qinghe passed the imperial examinations, entered the palace examination, and was appointed to an official post. Sanjiu continued to diligently keep the residence in immaculate order. Qin Duoye’s memories fluttered past. To an outsider, he merely appeared stunned in place. Sanjiu asked with concern, Master, what is wrong? Qin Duoye lowered his gaze to look at Sanjiu. He sighed silently in his heart. Wen Qinghe, like all ordinary, quiet commoners, cared for his small household, lived a bustling life, guarded his integrity, possessed a kind heart, and understood right from wrong. Although he lacked the broader vision and ambition to care for the entire populace of the empire, if placed in an ordinary small county, he could still have grown into a fine official who sympathized with the people’s hardships. He was the very embodiment of the majority of ordinary people in this world. It was only a pity, a sudden, malicious illness had altered this minor official’s entire life and dragged Qin Duoye into this era. Master? Master? Qin Duoye was pulled back from his thoughts by Sanjiu’s voice. He shook his head and said, It’s nothing. Let’s go inside. Sanjiu followed closely behind Qin Duoye, vaguely feeling that his master seemed vastly different upon this return. In the inner chamber, warm water was simmering on a tea stove. Qin Duoye accepted a teacup, took a gentle sip, and soothed his throat, which had grown dry from the journey back. Sanjiu busily served by his side, went to the cabinet, retrieved three promissory notes for silver, handed them over, and said, Master, you instructed me last time to exchange those few mu of suburban farmland for silver. They are all here. Remember to visit the apothecary to fill your prescriptions. Qin Duoye flipped through the memories that had just surfaced: Wen Qinghe had liquidated his family assets to buy medicine for his illness. The household’s savings accumulated over the past two years had been hollowed out. Yet the medicine could not be stopped, forcing him to constantly pawn valuables from the home. Those few mu of farmland were the very last things available to sell; the next step would be this residence itself. Sigh. After bringing out the money, Sanjiu went to brew the household’s remaining tea leaves. Qin Duoye leaned back in a bamboo-woven chair, casting his gaze over to see that it was the most ordinary green tea. Master, I was terrified these past two days! When you didn’t return from the morning audience, I went out to inquire, and the whole city was saying you were taken by the Emperor… Sanjiu swallowed back the less-than-flattering words, casting a cautious look at Qin Duoye. Does your return mean everything they said was false? Those gossiping fools made me so furious. I should have beaten them up back then. Qin Duoye drank the remaining water in his cup and set the teacup down on the table. Seeing this, Sanjiu hurriedly topped it off with freshly brewed tea. Let them talk, what are you getting angry for? Qin Duoye picked up the teacup from the table again, lightly skimming the tea froth with the lid, and asked indifferently. Sanjiu said with indignation, Of course I’m angry! Master, you are the bridge between the commoner officials and the aristocratic families, not to mention a rising star among young civil officials. For the Emperor to do that, wasn’t he dragging the dignity of both civil officials and aristocratic families straight into the mud? The cup lid was set down moderately upon the teacup, producing a faint yet distinct sound. Sanjiu froze abruptly, panicking inwardly. He looked up at Qin Duoye, and seeing that his master still maintained that amiable expression, he let out an unnoticeable sigh of relief. Sanjiu continued, However, now that you’ve returned, all those speculations are groundless. I just don’t know if His Majesty has shown any intention of selecting a consort. If he has, your official career will be safe. You certainly know a lot. Qin Duoye lowered his gaze, set the teacup back down, and smiled. Pity though, even without any such intention, my official career has skyrocketed. Ah? Sanjiu stared in a daze. Sanjiu, Qin Duoye had no desire to bicker with Sanjiu and issued his instructions, Take a silver note, go to the market to buy some new fabrics, and take them to the tailor’s shop to sew a few sets of inner wear and middle robes for me. As for outer robes, we have a few at home; if they’re enough, you don’t need to buy more. Master? Qin Duoye continued, If there’s any money left, just buy some miscellaneous daily necessities we need. Sanjiu was dumbfounded, a question mark hovering over his head. Aren’t you going to buy medicine with this money? Qin Duoye curved his lips into a smile, lowering his eyes in a leisurely posture, a shallow amusement tinting his voice. No need to buy medicine. Someone has taken full charge of all the herbal decoctions for my recent illness. …Though he had no idea when he would ever pay it back with his salary. Wait, pay it back? What payback? What’s wrong with an emperor supplying his own ancestor with a couple of herbal remedies! Qin Duoye grew entirely righteous in his mind. He stood up, walked over to Wen Qinghe’s bookshelf, and looked up and down at the scrolls stored there. They were all ritual classics, canonical texts, and imperial examination practice papers. Oh right, on your way back, stop by the bookstore and pick up two history books for me. Two question marks appeared above Sanjiu’s head: History books? Yes, ranging from the reign of Emperor Cheng-lie of Wei up to the present. Qin Duoye paced around the room, beginning to rifle through chests and cabinets without looking back. Go on now. Sanjiu walked out the door with a head full of questions. Qin Duoye did not slow his hands, though his gaze swept toward the direction Sanjiu had left. This kid can’t hold his breath; he’s far too impatient. He doesn’t handle the phrasing well, making it far too easy to see right through him. Qin Duoye had served as emperor for twelve years in his past life and had seen all sorts of people. Some were sycophantic, some had requests to make of him, some harbored malicious intentions, some were forced by monarch-subject relations to wrap their words in ambiguity, while others cursed him directly to his face. It was obvious, one could tell at a single glance, and catch the hidden subtext the moment a word was spoken. Ah, pitiful Wen Qinghe, even the only person by your side harbors their own little ulterior motives. There were not many items left in the house, and some didn’t need to be brought along since the palace already had everything. Qin Duoye retrieved seasonal clothing, two sets of court robes, his tablet, title deed, and identification token from the wardrobe, packing them neatly into his traveling bag. As for the remaining writing brushes, ink, and bedding, he would definitely use whatever was provided in the palace. Merely packing a single bag left Qin Duoye feeling a succession of dark spots dancing before his eyes, accompanied by slight breathlessness. Splendid, this wretched body. Qin Duoye slowly steadied himself against the wall, walked over to sit on the bed, removed his outer robe, closed his eyes, and regulated his breathing. After resting for a long while, he finally recovered. He now desperately missed the physical body from his past life, slashing through enemy lines with an invincible broadsword, drinking melted snow and chewing raw meat in the Northern Borders, lifting a city-breaking halberd to slaughter foes. His physique hadn’t been bulky, rather, it was athletic and chiseled, with smooth, taut muscles covering his frame. In terms of appearance, he well deserved descriptions like sword-like brows, starry eyes, and a face as flawless as jade. No matter how busy he was as emperor and how slightly he neglected exercise, pulling all-nighters was still an absolute breeze. How he longed for a good body. Looking at his current state instead, not a scrap of excess flesh, slender and frail, the spitting image of a weak scholar, utterly feeble! Qin Duoye silently brought physical training to the top of his mental agenda. As for his appearance, Qin Duoye picked up a bronze mirror from the table and flashed it before his eyes. Hmm… Qin Duoye carefully scrutinized the visage in the mirror, feeling a twinge of bewilderment. The contours of these brows and eyes looked about three parts similar to his past life, and the shape of his lower jaw bore a faint resemblance as well. Could such a coincidence actually exist? Before Qin Duoye could ponder further, Sanjiu’s voice suddenly rang out from outside: Master, I’m back! Sanjiu was efficient; he made quick work of running errands. Sanjiu pushed the door open, stepped inside, placed the purchased items on the table, put the remaining silver coins back into their box, and reported, The fabrics have been delivered to the tailor’s shop. I’ll go pick them up tomorrow at noon. Qin Duoye nodded, then heard Sanjiu say, I bumped into Official Liu on the way back just now. Hearing that you had returned, he wanted to come pay a visit and is already at the gate. Master, would you like to go open the door and welcome him? Official Liu? And requiring him to personally open the door and welcome him? Qin Duoye raised an eyebrow. Sanjiu, go invite him in.
Chapter 9 - A Sense of Disconnection
A Century After My Demise, I Became The Tyrant’s White Moonlight