Xi Yu rolled up his sleeves, intending to tidy up the room quickly. That was the plan in theory, but when it actually came to taking action, it required a bit of resolve.
Staring at the dusty, dilapidated room, Xi Yu paused with the rag in his hand.
“System, isn’t there some kind of one-click cleaning function I can use? Or maybe magic or a cleaning fairy or something?” he conversed with the system in his mind.
The system responded promptly: “Host, I’m sorry, there is none.”
Xi Yu accepted his fate. Fortunately, he had been doing chores since childhood, so he wasn’t completely helpless. If it had been a pampered young master like the original host, Xi Yu doubted he could have survived here at all.
He sighed and began cleaning and organizing with brisk efficiency. Before long, the entire room took on a decent appearance, looking vastly different from the gray, dilapidated state it had been in when he first stepped inside.
A trace of achievement welled up from the bottom of Xi Yu’s heart. No matter how major an issue was, one had to secure a place to settle down first, followed by a full stomach…
Xi Yu rubbed his belly, feeling somewhat hungry. The Cold Palace was unlike other parts of the palace where people waited on you; here, even getting a meal was a problem. When he was brought in this morning, he had figured out the layout and roughly knew where the kitchen was. He planned to head over and find something casual to pad his stomach.
However, when he opened the kitchen doors, he almost thought he had walked into the wrong place. Was this definitely a kitchen meant for cooking human food, rather than some sort of pig-feed production base?
There were a few rotting vegetable leaves, not a shred of meat, rice of unknown age already infested with bugs, and a few dust-covered, grimy steamed buns sitting on the table.
Xi Yu suddenly felt a wave of a headache coming on, and inwardly he cursed Ye Weifeng a few times.
Suddenly, a steamed bun came flying down from the roof beam, smacking him right on top of the head. Xi Yu looked up and saw that someone was actually hiding up on the beam.
Xi Yu began to eye this disheveled, unkempt person with a guarded and wary expression.
Yet the other person seemed even more nervous and frightened than he was. As Xi Yu stepped closer, the person shrank further back. At that rate of retreating backward, he would sooner or later tumble down from above.
Xi Yu halted his steps. “Don’t be afraid, I mean no harm.”
The person’s entire body was trembling. Covering his head, he curled himself up into a tight little ball. “I’m sorry, I won’t dare steal food anymore, please don’t hit me.”
Xi Yu understood why the person was here. He must have wanted to get into the kitchen for something to eat, and upon seeing someone enter, he had scrambled up onto the beam. But a steamed bun he had been biting on accidentally slipped and fell, alerting Xi Yu.
He looked like another pitiful soul, especially with his tattered clothes and extremely frail frame; he must have been starving for a long time.
“I won’t hit you. Can you climb down slowly? It’s really dangerous up there.”
Xi Yu possessed a handsome face, and coupled with his usual flat, calm tone, he had a captivating quality that could soothe people into calmness.
The person nodded and slowly scrambled down from the beam. Yet his eyes remained timid throughout, never daring to look Xi Yu straight in the eye. A face blocked by hanging long hair made it impossible for Xi Yu to see clearly.
Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the steamed bun in Xi Yu’s hand, unblinking.
“This? This can’t be eaten anymore, it’s very dirty.” Looking at the dust-covered bun in his hand that was no longer clean, Xi Yu didn’t hand it over, intending to throw it away instead.
However, the person seemed extremely reluctant to part with the bun. Despite how dirty it looked, he still appeared very eager to swallow it into his stomach.
“Are you very hungry? But this really can’t be eaten. I’ll cook you a meal instead; I need to eat too anyway,” Xi Yu said to him.
No matter how many disadvantages the Cold Palace had, it possessed one major advantage: during the day, absolutely no one came around here, and the entire compound was deserted. As for the guards at the gate, they always found places to slack off and wouldn’t be watching Xi Yu anyway.
Thus, if he wanted to cook a meal, he wouldn’t be discovered.
Hearing the word “eat,” the person’s eyes seemed to brighten a little. He followed Xi Yu like a little puppy’s tail, sticking close wherever Xi Yu walked.
This toddler-like behavior made Xi Yu feel somewhat strange, but he didn’t dwell on it. In this Cold Palace, who didn’t have their own secrets?
Xi Yu picked out the ingredients that were still intact and clean, quickly built a fire, and casually stir-fried two dishes. Although they looked rudimentary, their presentation and aroma were genuinely quite good.
Moreover, for two people who had been starving for a long time, it could already be considered quite a feast.
Xi Yu handed a pair of chopsticks to the other person. “Eat.”
The person buried his head and began wolfing down the food as if afraid someone would snatch it from him. A plate of food was devoured clean in no time.
Xi Yu chuckled. He hadn’t expected his culinary skills to be quite so decent. He usually didn’t have much desire for food, viewing it merely as a tool to fill his stomach, but watching the other person eat his cooking with such relish, his mood inevitably lifted.
“You’re certainly giving me face!” Xi Yu laughed.
After finishing the meal, Xi Yu remembered he hadn’t asked who the person was. Seeing the timid demeanor of the person opposite him, Xi Yu took the initiative to introduce himself first to put him at ease.
“My name is Xi Yu.”
The head that had remained lowered all this time stirred upon hearing this name, and Xi Yu heard him repeat the name in his mouth.
It was a tiny, somewhat clinging sound.
“Do you know me?” Seeing his reaction, Xi Yu guessed he might recognize the original host.
Yet the person shook his head, then continued speaking: “It’s a line of poetry.”
Xi Yu heard the person recite, “Fine mats of jade weights, why not hold flowers of fragrant jade.”
Xi Yu paused. He hadn’t expected anyone to know the origin of his name, and a wave of pleasant surprise washed over him.
“That’s right, it really does come from that poem. And what about you? What’s your name?” Xi Yu asked him.
The person raised his head. Xi Yu still couldn’t clearly see his face, but the person’s voice clearly traveled into his ears.
“My name is Fuying.”
Hearing this name, Xi Yu’s hand holding the chopsticks paused instantly. Racking his brain through the original host’s memories, he finally recalled who this person was.
Not a palace servant as he had previously assumed, but the sole surviving imperial prince of the Daqing Dynasty, the Ninth Prince, Fuying, who was the blood-related brother of the current Son of Heaven, Ye Weifeng.
The late emperor of Daqing had many offspring, each outstanding in their own right. Ye Weifeng initially held no winning hand among these princes, but he possessed the best and most loyal blade in this world, which was the Xi family. Because of Xi Yu, the Xi family threw the full force of their clan behind helping Ye Weifeng successfully seize the throne, only to be cast aside like an old workhorse once its usefulness had ended.
The path of seizing the throne was fraught with peril, and the reason Ye Weifeng managed to ascend successfully boiled down to one fact: he was ruthless enough.
All his brothers were eliminated and killed by him one by one. After his ascension, the entire imperial bloodline of Daqing was left with only himself, plus Fuying as a loose fish that slipped through the net.
The reason was even simpler: because he was mentally deficient. Of course, he hadn’t been an idiot from birth; the young Fuying was exceptionally clever and a prince highly valued by the late emperor. However, after falling into the water once and running a high fever, he turned into his current state of missing six out of his seven souls.
Speaking of which, this matter actually had an inseparable connection to the original host. Back then, if he hadn’t helped Ye Weifeng by giving Fuying a push under Ye Weifeng’s instigation, Fuying would likely still be that intellectually brilliant Ninth Prince.
Xi Yu suddenly felt a twinge of guilt, looking at Fuying with a growing sense of distress. Although he hadn’t been the one to push him, because a person’s destiny had been altered entirely because of the original host, he felt a bit uneasy about it.
Coupled with the wretched life Fuying was now leading, his heart softened even further.
“Ninth Prince?”
“Don’t call me that. Fifth Brother will get angry if he hears it.”
Indeed, the key reason Fuying managed to keep his life instead of perishing under Ye Weifeng’s methods like the other princes was precisely because he posed no threat to Ye Weifeng.
Although Ye Weifeng was the ultimate victor, his cruel treatment of his brothers drew considerable public criticism. Keeping this demented ninth younger brother alive served to showcase his benevolent and righteous heart.
Yet Ye Weifeng still couldn’t tolerate any sand in his eyes, particularly harboring resentment because Fuying had previously been favored by the late emperor more than he was. Thus, he stripped Fuying of his title as prince and kept him locked away in the Cold Palace year-round.
If it weren’t for running into him here today, probably almost no one in this world would remember this Ninth Prince.
Xi Yu felt a sour ache in his heart. What kind of life was Fuying living in this Cold Palace? Come to think of it, he was only three years younger than Ye Weifeng, yet he looked excessively frail now.
His long hair hadn’t been combed for a long time, looking messy, and his clothes were worn out and tattered beyond description. Xi Yu couldn’t bear to watch.
“Shall I comb your hair for you?”
After tasting Xi Yu’s cooking, Fuying no longer seemed afraid of him, displaying a deep sense of trust instead as he obediently nodded.
When Xi Yu parted his hair, however, he discovered scars on his face. One could easily imagine how much bullying an intellectually impaired, discarded prince would face in this Cold Palace, where no one would ever stand up to back him.
Xi Yu carefully wiped those wounds with a towel and fetched a clean set of his own clothes to give him. Although his own clothes were slightly too big for Fuying, they were still far better than the rags he was wearing.
When Fuying stood before Xi Yu once more after washing up, his dirt-free face was finally revealed, looking overly exquisite and pretty.
Perhaps due to running on the same bloodline, his facial features bore a seventy-percent resemblance to Ye Weifeng’s. Yet while Ye Weifeng’s looks appeared somewhat sharp due to his perennial sullen and gloomy expressions, Fuying appeared exceptionally well-behaved.
Round eyes darted everywhere, yet their gaze remained clueless and timid, resembling a small, easily frightened deer.
Xi Yu always felt an excessive sense of familiarity from this face, though at the moment he merely attributed it to his resemblance to Ye Weifeng.
“Does it look good? I’m wearing new clothes!” Fuying seemed very excited, even happily spinning around to show Xi Yu.
Xi Yu offered a gentle smile and nodded softly. “Green suits you. Like a newborn emerald bamboo.”
Representing vitality while simultaneously embodying hope.