The thoughts of that night were as ethereal and hazy as the moonlight. Those words that failed to be spoken aloud perhaps never got another chance to be uttered.
Before Xiyu could make a single reaction, he was summoned into the palace by Ye Weifeng.
When the sovereign gives an order, a subject cannot refuse. Despite Xiyu feeling extremely reluctant in his heart, he still had no choice but to enter the palace.
The one most overjoyed by this was none other than the system. It rubbed its hands and grew immensely excited, exclaiming, “Host, you are finally going to see the target object! Does this mean our mission can finally begin?”
Seeing that Xiyu’s expression was not very pleasant, the system hurriedly dropped a hint to warn him, “Host, remember that your mission is to reform the target object, not to fight to the death with him, okay!”
Xiyu let out a cold laugh. “Rest assured, it is definitely not a fight to the death.”
The system heaved a slight sigh of relief, though it had no idea what Xiyu was actually thinking.
It’s either him dying or me living!
Ever since the imperial decree summoning Xiyu to the palace was issued, Ye Weifeng could not sit still for even a single moment.
First, he changed into a set of robes, specifically switching to the cyan-green that Xiyu favored. Yet, feeling that it lacked dignity and gravitas, he ended up changing back to his original bright yellow.
During the short span of just a few minutes of waiting, he had already straightened his hair crown dozens of times and gazed toward the doorway dozens of times.
Even the head eunuch serving nearby could perceive his anxiety and restlessness. “Your Majesty, Lord Xiyu has already boarded the carriage. Traveling from the Xiyu estate to the palace takes only a few steps; Your Majesty will see Lord Xiyu very shortly, so there is no need to be impatient.”
“You are the one being overly talkative! Which of your eyes saw me waiting for him? I am the sovereign, and he is the subject. If anyone is waiting, it should be him waiting for me.” Ye Weifeng put on a cold face, forcing an expression of sternness.
The head eunuch did not expose him, simply pushing the door that had been left ajar open just a fraction wider so that Ye Weifeng could see more clearly.
Until an announcement came from the doorway, Ye Weifeng stood up eagerly, straightened his attire and crown one last time, and finally laid eyes upon the person he had been yearning for day and night.
Xiyu…
Just how long had it been since he last saw this face? Ye Weifeng thought to himself, discovering that rather than resentment, longing actually occupied a much larger share.
He hated Xiyu for trying to rein him in. He hated Xiyu for handing the song written for him over to Fuying. He hated even more that Xiyu had deliberately thrown tantrums with him.
Yet at this very moment, the moment he laid eyes on Xiyu, Ye Weifeng unexpectedly felt his entire being settle down, much like a traveler trekking through a desolate wilderness who had finally found a place to rest.
“This subject pays respects to Your Majesty!” Xiyu had not even finished his light bow before Ye Weifeng had already reached out to support him upright.
“How many times have I told you? When it is just the two of us in private, there is no need for such formalities,” Ye Weifeng told Xiyu.
Xiyu did not show it on his surface, but he could not help letting out a cold internal chuckle. It sounded much sweeter than it actually was; if he were to truly take those words at face value, someone as petty-minded as Ye Weifeng would likely chop off his head all over again.
“Your Majesty, the proprieties of monarch and subject cannot be discarded!” Taking a step back to advance, Xiyu could not resist throwing Ye Weifeng’s own words, once spoken by Ye Weifeng to the original host, right back at him to choke him with.
In his memories, that seemed to be around the time Ye Weifeng had just ascended the throne as the emperor of Great Qing. At that time, Xiyu’s father and elder brother had both sacrificed their lives for Ye Weifeng.
Left entirely alone and clad in white mourning robes, he had single-handedly organized their funerals. Yet because imperial taboos forbid mourning during an ascension, Ye Weifeng had not even bothered to step foot into the Xiyu residence to offer a single stick of incense for the two of them.
Although the original host felt heartbroken, he had never once blamed him.
What truly wounded the original host was that when the mourning period had not yet ended, yet he entered the palace to attend court dressed in white out of anxiety for state affairs, Ye Weifeng’s face had been plastered with displeasure.
Ye Weifeng did not even need to utter a word; he merely needed to sit upon the dragon throne with a gloomy countenance, and there would naturally be others to speak on his behalf.
“Prime Minister, while we understand your grief over the loss of your father and brother, presenting yourself before the Son of Heaven requires proper court etiquette. Wearing white robes like this is truly inappropriate. What if you bring bad luck upon His Majesty? Do you know your crime?” an official had once told Xiyu.
Xiyu had raised his head, looking solely at Ye Weifeng, yet Ye Weifeng did not utter a single word in his defense. It was then that Xiyu understood: this was precisely Ye Weifeng’s intention.
“Xiyu, the propriety of monarch and subject cannot be discarded! You had best return to your estate and change into proper attire before coming back,” Ye Weifeng had proclaimed from the high platform, speaking from a position of lofty superiority.
Xiyu suddenly felt that Ye Weifeng’s forgetfulness was quite severe. He neither remembered why Xiyu’s father and brother had died, nor did he remember his past promise that in front of Ye Weifeng, Xiyu would never need to observe the etiquette of a subject.
“This subject obeys the decree!” The Xiyu of back then had retreated in sorrow.
The present Xiyu, however, refused to suffer any losses, not even in a war of words.
Yet Ye Weifeng was so self-centered that he failed to notice the changes in Xiyu, solely because he had always focused his attention exclusively on himself. Even toward Xiyu, his attitude resembled that of treating a favorite toy.
“Xiyu, these are all your favorite pastries. I had the imperial kitchen chefs practice for several days just so that today, you could properly taste them,” Ye Weifeng said, seeking praise from Xiyu.
Yet Xiyu did not even lift his chopsticks, causing Ye Weifeng to suddenly panic slightly. He always felt that Xiyu was somewhat different from before.
The Xiyu of the past had followed his every lead, and no matter how willful his actions toward him were, Xiyu would always tolerate him. But the present Xiyu made him feel entirely unable to figure him out.
The scene witnessed in the cold palace flashed once more through Ye Weifeng’s mind, making him desperately desire to prove something.
Ye Weifeng looked at Xiyu, his gaze too complex to decipher. “Xiyu, apologize to me. If you apologize to me, I will forgive you.”
Xiyu suddenly began to doubt his own ears. Ye Weifeng was telling him to apologize?
After first attempting to flay him alive, tear him limb from limb, strip him of his official post, and banish him to the cold palace, Ye Weifeng actually had the nerve to tell him to apologize?
Xiyu suspected that the man’s brain might be broken.
Yet Ye Weifeng was simply not a normal person. In his worldview, Xiyu was akin to his personal possession, and anything belonging to Xiyu naturally belonged to him.
And yet, this very Xiyu had allowed his thoughts to wander toward someone else. This not only filled Ye Weifeng with panic, but even more so, with fury.
Even so, he was still unwilling to cast aside this pet that had accompanied him since childhood. Therefore, the only solution he could devise was to make Xiyu apologize to him.
As long as Xiyu apologized to him, he could generously pretend not to mind the fact that Xiyu had once handed over the song written for him to someone else; he could forgive him, provided he returned to his side.
However, hearing these words made Xiyu feel as though he were listening to a joke. “Your Majesty, the pastries I once loved, now, I have grown quite tired of them.”
He casually picked up an exquisite, brightly colored pastry from the plate. “In the past, I only found it vibrant and pretty, tasting sweet to the bite. But now, I find it increasingly cloying. Since it serves no better purpose than filling the stomach, and eating too much of it is even harmful, it is, after all, mere food. Changing it when one is tired of it is only natural.”
Watching Xiyu ruthlessly crush the pastry he had once loved most into a powdery mess right in his hands, Ye Weifeng felt as though it was his own self being crushed.
What was once treasured as a priceless jewel was now discarded like worn-out shoes.
What on earth had happened? Why had Xiyu undergone such a drastic transformation toward him? Ye Weifeng could not puzzle it out, nor was he willing to face it.
“Xiyu, since you once claimed to like it, you should have kept on liking it. How can you just casually say you want to change halfway through? You were the one who used to teach me to honor promises; now, it turns out you are the one unable to keep them…” Ye Weifeng was losing his composure.
Yet Xiyu interrupted him. “Your Majesty, it turns out you actually remembered the things I taught you. I thought you had completely forgotten them all. After all, I also taught you to be grateful for kindness and never to burn bridges after crossing them.”
“You are bringing up the past again! Xiyu, regarding your father and brother, I did my utmost. They sacrificed themselves for me of their own accord, and I truly wanted to save them back then.”
“Yet between their lives and the military tally and the imperial throne, you chose the latter, did you not?”
“I did not come here today to quarrel with you. I know now, I know where the problem lies!” Ye Weifeng spoke as if he had suddenly found an answer for himself.
“It is because of Fuying, is it not?” For the first time, regret surged within Ye Weifeng. He should never have sent Xiyu into the cold palace, nor should he have allowed him and Fuying to be locked up together.
After all, back when they were youths, Xiyu had almost drifted away from him because of Fuying once before, had he not?
At that time, because he was wearing a pair of shoes that were a fraction too short, he had accidentally sprained his ankle while paying respects to the Emperor, earning himself a harsh reprimand from His Majesty.
Meanwhile, Fuying had just recited a certain piece of prose perfectly, earning praise from the Emperor and even being pulled onto His Majesty’s lap, such an eyesore picture of paternal affection and filial piety. Yet Ye Weifeng had still been kneeling below the dais back then, his knees red, swollen, and aching.
An emotion named jealousy had continuously sprouted and grown within Ye Weifeng’s heart, but with nothing to his name, how could he possibly compete with Fuying?
The only thing he could utilize was Xiyu. He had calculated the exact time Fuying would go to the imperial garden’s pond and invited Xiyu there beforehand.
Lowering his voice, he had spoken to Xiyu in a tone that hovered between a plea and a command.
He said, “Xiyu, help me. I beg you to help me. I only have you.”
Xiyu’s face had been filled with hesitation; his principles and the family teachings he had received since childhood forbade him from doing such a despicable deed.
“Lezhi, I can help you think of a way. You are so wonderful; His Majesty will eventually see your merits and come to like you,” Xiyu had tried to persuade him.
Yet Ye Weifeng had violently flung away the hand Xiyu had extended to hold him. “As long as Fuying exists, His Majesty will never look at me. Xiyu, today you have only two choices: either help me, or never come looking for me again. From now on, I will act as though I never knew you.”
It was an ultimatum to cut off robes and break ties, completely severing the relationship. Yet the Xiyu of that time had already planted a seed named Ye Weifeng deep within his heart through their day-to-day companionship. Now that the seed had sprouted, pulling it out by the roots would cause excruciating agony, something Xiyu could not bring himself to do just yet.
Consequently, Xiyu violated his own principles and betrayed the Xiyu family precepts. Just as Ye Weifeng instructed, after leading Fuying’s attendants away, he took advantage of Fuying’s lack of attention and pushed him into the pond from behind.
The pond was not deep; it was not enough to cost a life, but for the small-framed Fuying, it was enough to make him choke on water several times over.
Xiyu still remembered those eyes, the eyes that looked back at him while struggling in the pond.
Xiyu could not even clearly distinguish whether those eyes were casting hatred toward him or crying out to him for help?