“Qi Zhaoxuan, what are you trying to do?”
The surrounding commotion faded into a blurred background behind the two of them, leaving only the sound of each other’s breathing clearly audible.
Ji Rong’s voice was clear and crisp. The fox mask looked lifelike, making him truly resemble a captivating little fox, one that had stumbled clumsily before him in the twilight, its smiling pupils reflecting his own image.
His heart beat like a drum, blood rushing straight to his head.
He seemed to hear the booming roar of his own heartbeat and the surging blood within his chest.
Although the person before him had stepped back, it felt almost like playing hard to get.
He did not pull away completely, yet he deliberately stayed at a distance that remained utterly ambiguous.
With a single reach, it seemed he could pull the other person back into his embrace once more.
The little fox looked at him with a gentle smile, in no hurry for the answer to the previous question.
Those pretty eyes were somewhat watery, spirited yet carrying a hint of allure.
In a daze, he felt as though Ji Rong was waiting for him to step forward a few paces.
For a fleeting moment, he truly thought that he could reach him.
Qi Zhaoxuan smiled self-deprecatingly in his heart.
But how could that be possible?
Ji Rong ultimately did not receive an answer from Qi Zhaoxuan.
He watched as the smile in Ji Rong’s eyes gradually faded.
A short while later, Ji Rong slowly spoke up, “I’m a bit hungry.”
There was no emotion in Ji Rong’s voice, and the somewhat ambiguous atmosphere from a moment ago instantly shattered.
Qi Zhaoxuan lowered his gaze, as if escaping, and turned his line of sight toward another direction.
He said, “Let’s go. Baiwei Pavilion is right over there.”
Baiwei Pavilion was situated by the North Lake, its reputation widely spread across the capital. Today happened to be the Lantern Festival with boat performances as well; logically speaking, the tables at Baiwei Pavilion should have been fully booked long in advance.
This doubt lingered in his mind for only a split second before Ji Rong quickly cast it to the back of his mind.
Ji Rong walked ahead, expressionless beneath the fox mask, which instead added a touch of aloof detachment.
Clearly, Qi Zhaoxuan had wanted to make a move just a moment ago, but why had he stopped?
He had given hints, so why did he stop?
Ji Rong could not figure it out.
The eyes tell everything. Clearly, in daily life, the other person usually looked at him with such intense possessiveness, yet why did he shy away this time?
Moreover, the lighting earlier had been too dim, and he could not see Qi Zhaoxuan’s expression clearly, only vaguely sensing that Qi Zhaoxuan’s state was somewhat off.
As for what exactly was wrong, he could not put his finger on it.
“Wait.” Ji Rong’s gaze paused, and he came to a halt.
His eyes drifted toward a small stall beside them, the very same stall where Qi Zhaoxuan had likely bought the fox mask earlier, which still displayed quite a few other styles of masks.
With people everywhere, Qi Zhaoxuan followed closely behind Ji Rong, arriving right alongside him in front of the small stall.
Qi Zhaoxuan was tall with an outstanding appearance and temperament. The stall clerk still remembered Qi Zhaoxuan, as well as the little fox mask on Ji Rong’s face.
Seeing Ji Rong leaning slightly over the stall, flipping through items from time to time, while the man behind him stayed by his side without leaving an inch, the clerk made a few guesses and then enthusiastically said, “The young master is back. Is this young gentleman here to pick out a mask for this gentleman?”
With so many people out for the Lantern Festival, there was a chance they might run into court officials who could recognize Qi Zhaoxuan.
He did not want any extra trouble.
Ji Rong gave a soft acknowledgment and quickly selected a mask.
Ji Rong placed the mask over the man’s face.
The dark cloud-patterned mask revealed only a straight bridge of the nose and thin lips.
The cold-toned jade material made Qi Zhaoxuan’s lip color appear even paler.
Naturally, Qi Zhaoxuan paid the bill. Since this small stall was just a few steps away from Baiwei Pavilion, they went straight up to the fourth floor of the pavilion.
This table was close to the window and occupied an elevated position. The bustling crowds below and the scenery of the North Lake could be viewed at a glance. The performance boats were already prepared, and the show would begin before long.
There was only one drawback: the window seats on the fourth floor were not private rooms, and people came and went frequently.
Being close to the window, the wind blew in. With still some time before the dishes were served, the waiter quickly brought up a pot of tea.
The neighboring table was noisy and chatting with great enthusiasm.
Eavesdropping on others was not entirely moral, but due to the close distance and his exceptionally good hearing, the conversation from the neighboring table was clearly transmitted to his ears.
Most of it consisted of gossip and interesting anecdotes, such as which elderly lord had taken in a concubine outside. Ji Rong listened with bored detachment.
“Hey, hey, hey, have you guys heard anything very strange lately?” The speaker seemed somewhat cautious, speaking vaguely.
“What is it?”
“Well, you know, something like someone who was supposed to be dead turning out not to be dead, spreading with absolute certainty.”
“Oh that? I’ve heard it. Where on earth do these absurd stories come from? How can someone come back from the dead?”
“What? Who?”
Hearing this, Ji Rong straightened up, propping his chin with one hand.
He glanced at the neighboring table; they were all youths in their early teens.
Ji Rong let out a chuckle.
“Well,” the speaker lowered his voice, saying cautiously, “it’s just some rumor from who-knows-where. Everyone privately says that he didn’t die and is still alive.”
For a rare moment, a look of surprise appeared on Ji Rong’s face, and then he laughed out loud.
The speaker’s voice was very soft, yet Ji Rong heard it clearly.
“Everyone privately says the former emperor didn’t die.”
Ji Rong was only startled for a single moment.
Where did such a bizarre rumor come from?
He had thought they were discussing him, but it turned out to be something even more groundless.
Ji Rong tapped the table with his folding fan and asked, “Are you not going to manage this?”
Qi Zhaoxuan raised his eyes to look at him. With the ample lighting inside Baiwei Pavilion, Ji Rong saw a flash of disgust cross Qi Zhaoxuan’s eyes. “Nonsense. Dead is dead.”
Ji Rong raised an eyebrow. Knowing that Qi Zhaoxuan had always loathed the former emperor, he dropped the topic regarding that person.
The neighboring table probably realized that walls have ears and discussing such matters in public was unwise, so they quickly changed the subject.
More and more people were chatting around them, and amidst the murmur, Ji Rong acutely caught a few keywords.
“Did you guys manage to grab the second volume of that storybook?”
“The one that swept through Jiangnan?”
“It’s so hard to grab! I only managed to get the first volume. Too many people are buying the pure black-market edition of the second volume, and to top it off, they actually limited the printing. It infuriates me to death!”
“The first volume ended right at the part where the two of them are about to confess their feelings. I’m dying of anxiety not being able to get the second book.”
Swept through Jiangnan. Pure black-market edition.
Ji Rong heavily set down his teacup and looked coldly at Qi Zhaoxuan.
The two of them hadn’t spoken much due to the earlier incident. Qi Zhaoxuan was naturally a man of few words, and Ji Rong, feeling awkward, hadn’t spoken much either.
Until now, when he overheard what other people were saying.
Ji Rong pieced things together in his mind and understood instantly.
If Qi Zhaoxuan hadn’t ordered it, no one would ever dare to bring such material into the capital, let alone cause it to spark a frenzy across the city in such a short span of time.
He simply didn’t believe there was no manipulation behind the scenes by Qi Zhaoxuan.
The man before him calmly raised his teacup, attempting to avoid meeting Ji Rong’s direct gaze.
“Did you have people do this?”
Though framed as a question, his tone was entirely certain.
Qi Zhaoxuan calmly replied, “What?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Qi Zhaoxuan denied it, “I don’t know.”
Ji Rong let out a cold laugh.
The dishes had already been fully served, consisting of just four dishes and one soup. The restaurant felt a bit stuffy, and even flapping the folding fan a few times did little good.
He felt like having something cold to drink.
Ji Rong thought of a shop right beside Baiwei Pavilion.
Ji Rong directly ordered him, “There is a fermented rice wine shop to the left of Baiwei Pavilion. The osmanthus rice wine there is delicious. Go buy a jar of it.”
Qi Zhaoxuan said, “Baiwei Pavilion also has osmanthus wine.”
Ji Rong shook his head, “The taste is different.”
He locked eyes with Qi Zhaoxuan, seeming to decipher some underlying meaning.
He chuckled, snapping his folding fan shut.
Ji Rong found it somewhat amusing, “Are you afraid I’ll run away?”
“No,” Qi Zhaoxuan’s voice was very low, “I didn’t mean that, Regent Father.”
Yet both of them knew the truth as clearly as a mirror.
Ji Rong didn’t expose him and merely said, “No one is following behind us, but there must be plenty of hidden guards around. Are you still afraid I’ll run?”
“Could I even run away?”
Ji Rong’s gaze gradually grew colder; the trust that had slowly accumulated over this period seemed on the verge of vanishing.
Qi Zhaoxuan didn’t want it to be this way.
So he stood up, “Alright.”
The man’s figure disappeared around the corner. Ji Rong kept looking downward until he caught sight of Qi Zhaoxuan’s figure, confirming that he had truly gone.
Ji Rong’s expression was somewhat cold, a trace of displeasure welling up in his heart.
He couldn’t trust him.
He no longer had any intention of running away, yet Qi Zhaoxuan still couldn’t trust him.
His folding fan opened and closed continuously, as if signaling the agitation of its owner.
The performance boats began to make sounds, countless lights illuminated the area into a brilliant expanse, and the crowds by the lake erupted into enthusiastic cheers.
The performance seemed about to begin.
Right at that moment, Ji Rong looked down from the fourth floor and happened to see Qi Zhaoxuan returning.
Sensing something, Qi Zhaoxuan also looked up.
Across the vast sea of people, they looked toward each other.
Qi Zhaoxuan lifted the gourd in his hand, signaling the osmanthus wine he had bought to Ji Rong.
Ji Rong withdrew the head he had leaned out.
The little fox by the window vanished, and Qi Zhaoxuan walked into Baiwei Pavilion carrying the gourd.
Just as he reached the staircase landing, the lighting in the corner was dim and unclear.
Qi Zhaoxuan suddenly stopped in his tracks, gazing afar at Ji Rong from where he stood.
Ji Rong leaned against the window ledge, clear moonlight spilling over him against the backdrop of deep twilight.
The surrounding people were boisterous and noisy, yet sitting among them, the once mischievous fox mask now appeared aloof and proud, as if it did not belong to this mortal world.
This ethereal person wore plain white male attire today. The moonlight mirrored upon it gave even his strands of hair a silvery glow, making Ji Rong appear increasingly cold and detached.
As if he might fly away at any moment and would never stay for him.
And he couldn’t catch him.
Like the moon.
Yet a person cannot catch the moon.