After confirming that his strong and healthy nephew would accompany him to the banquet, Chu Xunsheng departed in high satisfaction.
Ji Jing watched him leave the racecourse with a smile, his own face radiating cheerful warmth.
The moment that figure in black martial attire completely vanished from sight, his expression plummeted, and an awe-inspiring, low pressure filled the surrounding air.
With a flick of his hand, a dark guard clad entirely in black, wrapped from head to toe without a single patch of skin exposed, leaped out and dropped to one knee.
A voice laden with biting frost and killing intent pierced his ears: “Where has my uncle been going these past few days?”
The dark guard reported: “Reporting to Your Highness, nothing noteworthy. He frequently visits a small cabin on the outskirts of town to grow vegetables and the like.”
Ji Jing interrupted him: “Did any strange people approach him?”
The dark guard hesitated for a moment: “No one worth noting.”
Ji Jing nudged him with the tip of his boot, his expression devoid of any discernible joy or anger: “What do you mean by worth noting? Could there be someone not worth noting?”
A hint of disdain flashed in the dark guard’s eyes: “Just toying with some beauty, that’s all.”
Ji Jing took a deep breath, laughing out of sheer fury: “Do tell.”
With his head lowered, the dark guard missed his master’s expression and remained completely oblivious to his anger. Believing he had figured out his master’s intentions, he grew complacent.
His assumption was that the master cared deeply about this cheap uncle, likely fearing he might do something detrimental to the prince’s estate or undertake some extraordinary scheme. Toying with a beauty naturally didn’t fall into this category, proving only that Lord Chu was indulgent in beauty and possessed nothing worthy of the master’s concern.
“It’s a mute. The two of them are often clinging to each other…”
“Is there physical contact?”
“Oh, absolutely. They’re kissing left and right, lingering and inseparable…”
Before the dark guard could add any more embellishments, Ji Jing lashed out with a ferocious kick, applying a heavy amount of force that instantly caused the dark guard to cough up blood and lose consciousness.
Ji Jing had no desire to look at him any longer. With a wave of his hand, two figures materialized from the shadows to drag the unconscious guard away, while another stepped forward to kneel on the ground.
Clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned pale white, Ji Jing commanded in a sharp voice: “From now on, follow your uncle. First, ensure his protection. Second, report every single detail of his daily itinerary to me. Do you understand?”
The newly appointed dark guard hurriedly nodded in acknowledgment and flew away.
The vast racecourse fell so silent that only the sound of a single person breathing could be heard. Ji Jing closed his eyes, his mind flashing with his uncle’s pale, thin lips and the slender, taut body wrapped tightly beneath official crimson robes in daily life.
Uncle, oh uncle… Ji Jing wouldn’t dare harbor any desecrating thoughts; even imagining it in his own mind felt like an insult.
Yet what if someone had already tasted those pale, thin lips in some unknown corner? What if someone’s palm had already caressed that lean waist? What if…
The long riding whip was crushed directly into fine powder by a tremendous burst of internal energy, sending the maidservants and guards kneeling nearby into shivering paroxysms of terror.
Meanwhile, within the imperial palace.
Wei Qi was also kneeling in a shivering heap on the floor, waiting for the revered Son of Heaven, enthroned on high behind layers of curtains, to speak.
As a mere middle-ranking civil official, he possessed zero status that would grant him access to the Emperor’s study for consultations. Consequently, upon being summoned, he was completely at a loss.
Before the Emperor had even spoken, Wei Qi meticulously reviewed his recent behavior.
He thought it over from every possible angle, utterly failing to find anything about himself as a humble civil official that could possibly attract the attention of the exalted Emperor.
If forced to name something, it was probably the banquet he was hosting in a few days, which marked the absolute pinnacle of his life.
Nearly all civil officials, ranging all the way up to Grand Academician Su, had personally sought him out for invitations.
Wei Qi understood very well what these people were coming for.
Yet he couldn’t help letting his imagination run wild either. That noble lord never attended any poetry gatherings or banquets, yet he had exclusively accepted his. Could it be…
That he viewed him with special favor?
Though Wei Qi was merely a minor civil official, he was at least a promising young talent. Naturally incomparable to the likes of Grand Academician Su, he was nonetheless a polished gentleman born of a prestigious family with exceptional literary talent.
Virtually all scions of noble families enjoyed gathering together in their youth to drink, make merry, and compose poetry. Wei Qi was no exception.
During their rebellious youth, he and a group of aristocratic youths frequently congregated, emulating figures like the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove. Unbound by conventional propriety, they drank, made merry, and mocked the corrupt faces of various imperial relatives and nobles.
The first time they heard that a maternal uncle of Prince Jing was coming to the capital to serve as an official, the group had been uniformly dismissive. Feeling that yet another person was coming to poison the Northern Dynasty, their mockery knew no bounds.
However, the most taciturn member of their group, the one whose maternal family held the highest status and who had entered officialdom the earliest, spoke up to halt them.
Looking utterly heartbroken, he said in a remarkably deep voice: “No, it’s not like that.”
The others burst into laughter, asking him: “Then what is it like?”
That person shook his head, then nodded, taking a long time before replying: “You’ll find out later.”
At the time, Wei Qi thought nothing of it, mocking a few times this person who had succumbed to power, believing himself to be noble in character and rich in integrity, utterly incapable of bowing for five bushels of grain.
Later, pressured by his family elders, Wei Qi had no choice but to enter officialdom. A batch of officials joined alongside him, and the Emperor hosted a welcoming banquet for this infusion of fresh blood.
At that banquet, Wei Qi caught his first glimpse of the legendary Lord Chu.
Placed in a rather unremarkable seat at the time, Wei Qi hadn’t paid much attention until he raised his cup to toast and suddenly locked eyes with a pair of orbs.
Light shimmered and flowed within that person’s eyes, as if reflecting sparkling ripples. Upon meeting those eyes, Wei Qi couldn’t help wondering whether the moon had become intoxicated within that curve of light; otherwise, why would he feel as though he had stepped beneath cold moonlight, not even damning to draw a single breath?
Wei Qi was sucked into those eyes. In a corner where no one paid attention, he meticulously observed that noble lord, from the light mole on his right eyelid grazed lightly by his long eyelashes, to the jade wine cup held firmly in his slender, distinct fingers.
The dance music in the hall shifted repeatedly, but Wei Qi paid no heed whatsoever. He simply watched Lord Chu quietly, gazing into those eyes harboring the moon.
Frankly speaking, the dance was quite good. The dancer’s movements were powerful, and every gesture exuded charm.
Yet Wei Qi always felt that the dancer’s exposed white belly was somewhat glaring. Her thighs seemed too exposed, and the seductive allure in her eyes was excessive, bordering on cloying.
For the first time, Wei Qi, an ardent advocate of open-minded social customs, felt that the dancer was rather detrimental to public decency.
Lord Chu, however, did not seem to share that view. His eyes held an appreciation that made Wei Qi’s heart twist into a knot.
No, no. That noble lord should not rest his gaze upon any ordinary mortal in the mundane world.
The dancer’s performance seemed destined to continue for a while longer, but a eunuch rushed up to whisper a few words. The dance halted abruptly, and Lord Chu turned his attention back to tinkering with the exquisite pastries on his table.
Wei Qi breathed a sigh of relief while feeling an involuntary wave of gratitude toward the abrupt interruption.
The banquet concluded swiftly, and amid the earnest teachings of his family elders, Wei Qi began his career as a court official.
Being a minor civil official, Wei Qi was worlds apart from that lord, able only to trace the back of Lord Chu’s crimson official robes from afar with his eyes.
It turned out the lord’s voice was also remarkably pleasing, clear and cold like mountain springs sliding across the heart, yet tinged with a slight huskiness that made it inexplicably and intensely alluring.
The lord’s capability was equally formidable. Many of the proposals he put forward required Wei Qi to ponder repeatedly before grasping the twists and turns hidden within.
Yet the lord remained like the moon amid the clouds or the wind within the mountains; Wei Qi could not touch even a fraction of him. Fortunately, he was far from the only one gnashing his teeth in frustration.
Every time the morning court adjourned, Lord Chu would always flit away like the wind. Wei Qi could only catch sight of his fluttering robes and the hands of several senior officials extending forward only to drop empty.
No one could catch Lord Chu’s eye, and no one was worthy of a second glance from him. Judging solely by invitations to various poetry gatherings and banquets known to Wei Qi alone, they were as numerous as carp crossing a river, yet Lord Chu had never attended a single one.
From the prime minister down to people of Wei Qi’s standing, anyone hosting a poetry gathering would specially craft an exquisite, unique invitation card, solemnly handing it over personally to the prince’s estate steward.
Yet Lord Chu would never bestow even a fraction of attention upon these painstakingly delivered invitations.
Wei Qi knew this full well, yet on that sunny day, he still pulled out that meticulously crafted invitation.
It was given to him by his family members, who felt that since he was newly entered into officialdom, he needed to grease the wheels and gave him a large sum of money to throw a banquet. Wei Qi valued this event deeply and invited various officials whose favor he needed to cultivate.
Naturally, he also harbored a stroke of wishful thinking, sending invitations to those major figures as well. Of course, such grand lords naturally wouldn’t pay attention to a minor civil official and had all declined.
Wei Qi understood this clearly, but his mind kept replaying those eyes harboring the moon.
Driven by a courage whose source he couldn’t trace, he intercepted that lord after a morning court session.
“I wonder if this junior has the honor of inviting Lord Chu to a gathering next month?”
His voice trembled so intensely it felt as though it might spill out. Realizing belatedly that his legs, fingertips, and voice were all shaking, Wei Qi mentally berated his own performance while watching with eager anticipation as the lord came to a halt.
The gazes of all surrounding officials, big and small, converged right here, but Wei Qi remained completely oblivious, fixing his stare entirely on the invitation in his hand.
A hand reached out, distinctly jointed, slender, and powerful, and accepted the invitation.
Those eyes harboring the moon finally cast their gaze upon him. Standing stiffly, Wei Qi felt the lord’s appraising look.
At that moment, he felt as though he had transcended the mortal realm, becoming pleasantly intoxicated. Wei Qi’s breathing threatened to stall; he felt as though he were bathing in warm sunlight, with every single cell clamoring to take flight.
It was then that he suddenly realized this invitation was by no means a spur-of-the-moment whim, but rather something long plotted within his heart. Perhaps this invitation was never meant to be a genuine invitation at all, with no expectation of acceptance; he merely hoped to leave behind a brief moment in his transient life of being gazed upon by that lord.
After all, even the invitations of the renowned, exceptionally talented, and strikingly handsome Grand Academician Su were met with utter indifference from Lord Chu. How could the lord possibly attend a minor gathering hosted by a minor civil official?
Wei Qi merely wished to stand before that person for a brief moment. What he said, what he did, whether he was rejected or not, none of it mattered anymore.
“I will go.”
He heard that lord say, slipping the invitation into his sleeve.