The system kept urging Xi Yu, yet recently Xi Yu felt that staying in this legendary Cold Palace was not bad at all.
Aside from the food, clothing, and living conditions being a bit crude, he really couldn’t think of any drawbacks here.
It was deserted, which also meant no one bothered him, and he didn’t even have to look at that hateful face of Ye Weifeng.
Moreover, there was Fuying, a pretty and well-behaved pet who brought him joy every day. How could this Cold Palace be bad?
However, the system grew anxious. “Host, you are running away. Running away cannot solve problems. Could it be that you are afraid of that Ye Weifeng?”
Xi Yu remained unimpressed. “Why should I fear him? I am simply lazy. If it were you, would you be enthusiastic about working? Especially a job without pay?”
“Host, you cannot keep hiding like this. You must quickly think of a way to leave the Cold Palace and complete our main quest. Don’t forget, you accepted our commission.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t complete it, I just need some time,” Xi Yu replied unhurriedly, forming a sharp contrast with the system’s urgent attitude.
“But Host, we cannot wait any longer. The longer you delay completing the quest, the more suffering someone will endure. Do you have any idea—”
Halfway through its sentence, the system abruptly fell silent, realizing that in its momentary agitation, it had almost leaked some taboo information, and hurriedly reined itself in.
It had indeed thought of the fellow in the real world who was bearing the pain for Xi Yu. After all, it had been acquainted with him for a few years and shared some camaraderie, but these matters could not let Xi Yu know—at least not yet…
It thought it had masked its slip well, but Xi Yu had always been sensitive to the emotions of others. “The later I complete the quest, who will suffer?”
The system secretly hammered its own head in annoyance, regretting its loose lips that had almost leaked the taboo to the host. However, since it lacked the skill to lie before this exceptionally clever host, it could only awkwardly and immediately change the subject.
“Host, look over there, your pet has arrived…”
Xi Yu looked over and saw Fuying dressed entirely in green. Today, he had tied his hair into a ponytail, giving him a youthful, energetic aura resembling newborn emerald bamboo.
Xi Yu’s mood involuntarily relaxed. Setting aside the internal dialogue with the system, he walked toward Fuying.
Fuying happened to be standing beneath a tree. When a gust of breeze blew, a green leaf drifted down and landed on his head, resembling a green ribbon that complemented his outfit.
Xi Yu couldn’t help smiling, while Fuying looked quite distressed, as if he had dressed up elaborately to stand before Xi Yu only to have this leaf ruin everything. He desperately raised his hand, trying to pluck the leaf from his head, yet failed to find the right method.
Standing opposite him, Xi Yu instinctively reached out to help. His slender fingers brushed past the soft hair, plucking the mischievous leaf right off Fuying’s head.
“There, don’t be upset,” Xi Yu said to him.
“I’m not upset, I just felt that with a flaw, today’s outfit is no longer perfect,” Fuying said nervously.
Yet Xi Yu shook his head. “An uncut piece of jade will not become rubble just because a corner is chipped. No flaw can destroy the essence of a thing. As long as it is jade, it is always jade.”
“What about me? Big Brother Xi Yu, do I look good in this outfit? Even if I am foolish and not smart, do I still look good?” Fuying simply wanted to display his best side to Xi Yu instinctively.
He knew his mind lacked a beat, whereas Xi Yu was such an outstanding person, appearing to him like the unreachable moon in the sky.
Of course he wanted the moon to see him, yet standing before the moon, a mortal’s sense of inferiority was innate.
Xi Yu smiled and nodded, then patted Fuying’s head again. “You naturally look good, especially this face of yours. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Fuying’s mood instantly brightened, though he couldn’t even figure out the reason behind this emotional shift.
He only knew that he loved seeing Xi Yu smile at him. When Xi Yu smiled, he felt happy, but if Xi Yu turned serious and gloomy like that day, he felt sad as well.
He had no objects of comparison around him; the only possible reference might have been his mother consort’s attitude toward the emperor.
Clueless and uncomprehending, Fuying still couldn’t figure out what kind of emotion this was, but he knew one thing: Xi Yu was very important to him.
“Would you like to fly a kite?” Xi Yu and Fuying stepped on the spring-drenched stone steps. The spring breeze brushed their faces, creating such a pleasant sensation that Xi Yu suddenly felt inspired.
“Of course! Doing anything with Big Brother Xi Yu makes me happy and joyful!” Fuying’s enthusiasm was high, and he hurriedly accepted.
Yet after a short moment, looking as if he remembered something, his shoulders drooped. “But Big Brother Xi Yu, I can’t hold onto the kite string. Imperial Father used to fly kites with me, but his kite would fly high into the air while I always accidentally snapped the string. After that, Imperial Father never flew kites with me again, nor did he come to see me.”
Xi Yu sighed inwardly. He naturally knew the reason: the high fever caused by falling into the water had burned his brain, damaging his three souls and seven spirits, so naturally, performing many tasks wasn’t as nimble as an ordinary person.
For a former child prodigy to become like this, the late emperor must have felt deeply disappointed in Fuying, distancing and neglecting him as a result. How could a neglected, mentally impaired prince whose mother consort had passed away survive in this imperial palace? Fuying must have suffered countless hardships over the years.
A ripple stirred in Xi Yu’s heart—a mixture of sympathy, softness, and an overwhelming sense of guilt.
“Don’t be afraid, I will make you a kite that won’t snap,” Xi Yu promised him. “The kite I make will always keep its string in your hands.”
Fuying instantly became incomparably buoyant. “Then Big Brother Xi Yu, I want a peregrine falcon shape.”
Fuying felt that Xi Yu resembled a peregrine falcon—swift, powerful, and omnipotent—earning his deep admiration and an instinctive desire to lean on him.
Xi Yu curved the corners of his mouth. Fortunately, his art skills from the past weren’t bad; he specially selected fishing line as the material for Fuying’s kite string to ensure maximum sturdiness.
Once finished, Fuying impatiently held the kite string in his hand and began running along, looking thoroughly content.
The peregrine falcon-shaped kite flew higher and higher in Fuying’s hands, and true to Xi Yu’s promise, regardless of whether Fuying accidentally let go or tripped and fell, the string remained unbroken from start to finish.
Experiencing the complete joy of flying a kite for the very first time without the terror and panic of being scolded, Fuying looked at Xi Yu while running with the kite. That pair of affectionate peach-blossom eyes was gazing intently at him at that moment, causing Fuying’s heart to suddenly skip a beat and making him instinctively want to run toward Xi Yu.
Afterward, when he grew tired of running and dashed to Xi Yu’s side, Xi Yu had already produced a xiao (vertical bamboo flute). Over these past few days, he had found ways to sneak quite a few good items into the Cold Palace.
Such a fine scene naturally called for musical accompaniment.
Xi Yu didn’t actually know how to play this wretched instrument, but the original host did. Xi Yu brought the xiao to his lips and naturally began playing the tune he was most proficient in.
Seeing Fuying look at him with shining eyes, Xi Yu paused and taught Fuying how to play it hand over hand. But with Fuying’s missing beat in his brain, his playing naturally turned out a complete mess.
Celestial music turned into noise. Yet Xi Yu wasn’t annoyed; instead, he found it amusing. The two of them exchanged a smile while blowing completely chaotic notes…
Elsewhere, Ye Weifeng was driven nearly to a migraine headache by the memorials and remonstrances of his courtiers.
“Your Majesty, please make a prompt decision. This matter can no longer be dragged out!”
Each put on the appearance of a loyal minister, leaving Ye Weifeng unable to dismiss them due to superficial decorum. Item by item, how could Ye Weifeng not know that the situation was urgent and required handling?
Yet this group of stubborn old officials only knew how to nag, posing problems to him while failing entirely to devise solutions.
If only Xi Yu were here. If Xi Yu were here, he would always find a way to deal with this bunch of stubborn ministers. Usually, a few words from him would deflect a thousand pounds of pressure, prompting them to voluntarily withdraw. Afterward, Xi Yu would use his hands to massage his scalp—when would he ever have had a headache this severe?
Let alone those urgent matters; Xi Yu could always find the proper solution, sparing him from having to worry at all.
Xi Yu…
Realizing who he was thinking about, Ye Weifeng’s complexion shifted as if struck by lightning. Xi Yu, Xi Yu, it was all Xi Yu! Subconsciously, he kept thinking of him.
With this terrifying thought rising, Ye Weifeng involuntarily sprang up from his chair.
His headache must have driven him out of his wits. “Someone, fetch my cloak. I’m going out for a walk.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The attending eunuch diligently draped the cloak over Ye Weifeng’s shoulders. Only then did Ye Weifeng get up to stroll outside.
Struck by the breeze, his mind finally cleared up a lot, and his head stopped hurting as intensely as before. Relaxing entirely, Ye Weifeng walked aimlessly, momentarily losing track of where his steps had carried him.
Suddenly, Ye Weifeng heard the sound of a xiao, causing him to freeze in his tracks.
It was because this xiao playing was truly too grating, making it hard for anyone to ignore.
“Go check who is playing. How can there still be musicians with such poor skill in this palace?” Ye Weifeng frowned in displeasure.
Before the palace attendants could act, Ye Weifeng heard a burst of joyful laughter, causing his brows to knit even tighter.
He was already annoyed, yet someone in this palace was actually this cheerful. Ye Weifeng prepared to walk over and see who possessed such audacity.
However, the step he had just taken suddenly paused upon hearing a melody that could not have been more familiar.
It was a tune Xi Yu used to compose for him—a tune created solely for him, belonging exclusively to Ye Weifeng alone in this entire world.
And now, Xi Yu was teaching this tune belonging to the two of them to someone else. Ye Weifeng felt as though a hole had been gouged out of his chest, letting the wind blow through and plunging his entire being into a chill.
“Your Majesty, this is the Cold Palace. Inside is presumably Prime Minister Xi and…” the attendant began to report, but trailing off upon observing Ye Weifeng’s terrifying expression, he fell abruptly silent.
Ye Weifeng’s face was as dark as ink. He strode rapidly toward the front gate of the Cold Palace, yet as that familiar tune rang out once more, he suddenly found himself hesitating to push open this door.
He was afraid… afraid that opening the door would reveal a scene inside matching his exact imagination.
He feared that Xi Yu was no longer exclusively his, just like this tune—no longer possessed and monopolized by Ye Weifeng.