6
It’s Time to Compensate Well
Xiao Heng felt for the first time that having the sharp hearing of a martial artist wasn’t necessarily a good thing—especially when someone was pacing incessantly outside his hall. He had initially dismissed all attendants for peace and quiet, but now the situation had become even more disruptive.
[Ah! Why did I come here? If I’d known better, I wouldn’t have wandered off randomly. I regret this so much.]
[I should ask someone for directions. I can’t stay away for too long, or people outside will start suspecting me.]
“Come in.”
Xiao Heng’s face was as cold as ice, his voice dripping with displeasure and hoarseness.
[Huh? There’s someone inside. Did I stumble into some eunuch’s quarters? But would male eunuchs live in a place like this?]
Lin Qingran’s expression tightened. There was an unfamiliar yet familiar feeling about this place, and she was certain it must be a memory left behind by the original host.
When she looked up and saw the plaque with the three flamboyant characters “Lizheng Hall” right before her eyes, Lin Qingran felt as if she had been plunged into an ice cellar. Her hands and feet turned cold, and her mind went completely blank.
[Th-this is Lizheng Hall!]
It was also the Crown Prince’s bedchamber.
No servant would dare to linger in the Crown Prince’s bedchamber with such audacity, let alone speak in that tone. A certain speculation—one that shouldn’t exist after the founding of the nation—lingered in Lin Qingran’s mind. At this moment, her face turned deathly pale without any need for makeup.
She wanted to run, but her feet felt as if they were filled with lead, refusing to obey her command to turn and flee.
Should she really go in?
Lin Qingran didn’t even dare to think about it. The air around her seemed to grow thin, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
Last night, the Eastern Palace had been sealed off, including the Crown Prince’s bedchamber—Lin Qingran was well aware of this.
Now that she had barged into the bedchamber and heard someone speaking inside, upon careful reflection, the voice did sound somewhat familiar. However, it was hoarse and distant, as if it were coming from a faraway place.
While Lin Qingran stood frozen in fear, the person inside seemed to notice her prolonged silence and spoke again.
“Must I invite you?”
The icy voice exploded in Lin Qingran’s ears, making her hair stand on end. Trembling, she almost stumbled into the bedchamber.
[It’s fine, it must be someone else. It’s not like he’s the only master in the palace. Well, maybe someone came to mourn him and thought I was a thief when they heard the noise?]
[Observe the void, be like the Bodhisattva, in the profound practice of Prajna Paramita, perceive the five skandhas as empty, transcend all suffering and distress…]
[Arise, those who refuse to be…]
[Suddenly, I feel like I’ve gained strength! I’m young and full of socialist ideals. If I don’t go in, won’t the person inside think I’m a coward?]
Xiao Heng was already growing impatient, and the strange singing only irritated him further. His wound seemed to ache more intensely as well.
Perhaps the singing had given her some courage. Lin Qingran steadied her breathing and took small, careful steps into the bedchamber.
The main hall of the bedchamber was empty. With a mix of tension and forced boldness, she gritted her teeth and peered into the inner chamber.
On the bed in the inner chamber lay a man with a deathly pale complexion. His eyes were closed, and his chest was wrapped in bandages, with faint traces of blood seeping through.
Lin Qingran paid no attention to the man’s injuries. What caught her eye was his strikingly handsome yet lifeless face!
Him, him, him—it was Xiao Heng from the original host’s memories!
[Ahhh! Help, help! Oh my dear mother, I’ve met your kind!]
“Why did I have to come in? Why can’t my feet move? I want to run away—someone, please save me!”
Xiao Heng frowned. Of course they were all humans—naturally, they were the same kind.
Just then, footsteps echoed at the entrance of the main hall. Lin Qingran strained her stiff neck to turn and look, but it was futile. She was utterly terrified, her entire body rigid with fear.
“Imperial Brother, I knew you would be fine. Are you feeling better now?”
Soon, the handsome man at the door strode in. Paying no attention to Lin Qingran, he bypassed her and approached Xiao Heng, who lay on the bed.
Xiao Heng slowly opened his eyes, his gaze cold as it swept over Lin Qingran, taking in her palpable fear. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of disdain flashing in his eyes before he turned to the one who had just spoken.
“Thank you for your concern, Third Brother. I am fine.”
Lin Qingran’s mind buzzed chaotically, stripped of all capacity for thought. Her soul felt as though it had been ripped away, leaving her rooted to the spot like a block of wood.
Had she not been completely stunned, she would have recognized the man who had just entered as Third Prince Xiao Che from the original host’s memories—also the male lead of the book she had read.
Only then did Xiao Che recall hearing someone speak as he approached the door earlier. Turning, he noticed Lin Qingran.
“Miss Lin, you’ve come to see Imperial Brother as well. Yesterday, you were so grief-stricken before his coffin—it seems your devotion to Imperial Brother runs deep.” Xiao Che glanced at Lin Qingran, then smiled and turned to Xiao Heng. “Imperial Brother, in my humble opinion, Father’s arrangement of this marriage for you is quite fitting.”
Xiao Heng’s eyes drifted to the still-dazed Lin Qingran, a strange curve lifting the corner of his mouth.
“Indeed, it is.”
That would have been true—if he hadn’t overheard Lin Qingran’s words inside the coffin.
After the two brothers exchanged a few more words, Lin Qingran belatedly snapped back to reality and looked toward Xiao Heng.
On the bed, Xiao Heng appeared pale and unwell as he conversed with the seated figure.
[He doesn’t seem like a ghost… right?]
Lin Qingran swallowed hard. She felt as though she had stumbled upon some earth-shattering secret. Holding her breath, she peered closer and noticed the shadow cast by Xiao Heng on the inner side of the bed.
[He has a shadow—so he definitely isn’t a ghost!]
At that moment, the strength that had drained from her body seemed to return. It was truly a narrow escape. Only then did she feel a chill on her back—her robes were soaked with cold sweat.
[What should I say to ease the tension? I can’t let them see how terrified I was.]
[Phew, I’m drenched in sweat. I was scared out of my wits, my heart racing irregularly, and now they tell me Xiao Heng isn’t even dead?]
Xiao Heng and Xiao Che suddenly turned to look at Lin Qingran simultaneously. Without exchanging glances, they both wore expressions of puzzlement.
Clearly, Lin Qingran hadn’t spoken aloud—so why had they just heard what sounded like her voice?
Yet, both restrained their curiosity out of deference to the other’s presence—a trait the brothers shared.
“Miss Lin, you suffered greatly yesterday. Imperial Brother, you must compensate her properly.” Xiao Che smiled at Xiao Heng, his brow tinged with joy and a hint of suppressed excitement.
Truth be told, it wasn’t just Lin Qingran who had been distressed—he, too, had been deeply grieved. Thankfully, it had all been an act.
Xiao Heng looked at Lin Qingran with a faint, ambiguous smile. “Indeed, she must be compensated properly.”
[“Compensation? No, no, no, that’s unnecessary. The fact that he’s still alive is the greatest compensation.”]
[“So that means the subsequent plot is fine? Oh dear, this is the male lead we’re talking about, and I only just realized it. I’m guilty.”]
However, Lin Qingran suspected she might be imagining things. Why did she feel that Xiao Heng’s words, “proper compensation,” carried a hint of being uttered through gritted teeth?