Xi Lingjian’s brow abruptly furrowed.
Because of the cold, the person beside him moved with a certain sluggishness. Instead of keeping his distance, he looked at Xi Lingjian with a trace of eager anticipation, utterly oblivious to having done anything wrong.
Xi Lingjian felt an unnameable emotion accumulate in his chest. The colder the pelting rain became, the more the inner warmth swelled recklessly, egging him on to take action.
Yet the culprit showed no fear whatsoever, his breathing gradually returning to calm like a small beast that already knew barking at a brick wall was useless.
Narrowing his eyes, Xi Lingjian leaned in abruptly, pressing against his skin in kind. The point of contact was cold at first before gradually transmitting warmth, as though touched by water droplets carrying his own temperature.
“Are you telling me how to do my job?” he asked coolly.
Fu Liao’s breathing hitched slightly. Hearing Xi Lingjian’s tone revert to its usual aloofness, he realized the man wouldn’t listen and fell silent.
Always like this.
Xi Lingjian lowered his gaze, his eyes landing on the strands of clear, distinct black hair that Fu Liao had just parted.
“Your Highness.” Meng Zhui’s raspy voice precisely pierced the silence, sounding exceptionally distinct amidst the surrounding chaotic din. “After the landslide, a strange hut mysteriously appeared at the foot of the mountain. Its appearance isn’t conspicuous, but…”
Fu Liao’s hand resting on Xi Lingjian’s sleeve paused, his fingertips tightening their grip on the fabric.
Xi Lingjian hummed thoughtfully. “Have you inspected the inside of the house?”
Whether intentional or not, he shifted his hand, and that sleeve slipped right out from between Fu Liao’s fingertips, leaving his index pad resting squarely against Xi Lingjian’s warm skin. The heat scorched Fu Liao into instantly withdrawing his hand, causing the horse beneath him to take a couple of uneasy steps in place.
In the distance, residents who had yet to leave caught sight of the conspicuous hut and began whispering among themselves.
“This subordinate has already had my attendants take a full inventory of everything inside the house,” Yin Ruche reported as he hurried over. “Some of the civil officials are on their way here, while others are trying to run away out of a guilty conscience, but the men we deployed have already intercepted them.”
“My lord!”
A familiar voice reached Fu Liao from his side. Glancing in the direction of the sound, he saw Zhichang waving at him from not far away.
Wearing a coir raincoat and holding an umbrella in his other hand, Zhichang hurried over to pick up Fu Liao the moment he saw his master acknowledge him.
“Zhichang,” Fu Liao asked in surprise. “Why are you here?”
The mountain path was already difficult to navigate, and Zhichang walked with a limp. Seeing him looking as though he might trip at any second, Fu Liao grew anxious to dismount.
He instinctively glanced at Xi Lingjian. Seeing no movement from him, he realized how foolish he was being.
Why did he instinctively look to Xi Lingjian?
“My lord, since when could you ride a horse? I had no idea at all! If the Marquis finds out, he’ll be thrilled!” Zhichang didn’t recognize the person sitting behind his master. “Hey, isn’t that the Dragon King? The lord really received the Dragon King’s help!”
Before Fu Liao could recover from his astonishment, Xi Lingjian had already dismounted nimbly. The rain remained heavy, and after Zhichang’s vision was momentarily blocked by his bamboo hat, a turn of his head revealed that Xi Lingjian was gone.
“My lord, the Dragon King is gone!” he said in astonishment.
“Zhichang,” Fu Liao sighed, unable to dwell on Zhichang’s words for now. “Do you know how to get off a horse?”
Zhichang stammered a couple of times. “I can, I can! My lord, be careful!”
Guided by Zhichang, Fu Liao slowly dismounted. When he looked around for Xi Lingjian, all that met his eyes were falling puddles and muddy debris. Guards in uniform moved back and forth, but the striking Regent was nowhere to be seen.
The reins remained in Fu Liao’s hand.
He patted the black horse’s head. “Can you smell your master’s scent?”
The black horse gave a soft snort and made no further movement.
“My lord, let’s head back to the estate quickly. By the way, how did you get here this morning? I didn’t see a sedan carriage.” Holding the umbrella for Fu Liao, Zhichang guided him back toward the estate.
Fu Liao was left speechless.
Walking back would probably take an hour, especially with the rain pouring down like this.
Even with the umbrella overhead, the fine mist drifting from the sides had long since soaked his clothes.
He looked at the horse beside him.
Quite a handsome creature.
“Let’s walk back,” he said.
Fu Liao sniffled, carefully leading Zhichang down the muddy path.
His body alternated between chills and fever; if they didn’t get back soon, things might turn troublesome.
Xi Lingjian hadn’t taken the horse with him either. Who knew what he meant by that.
Fu Liao pondered absentmindedly, unaware that the very person he was thinking of was staring intently at him.
Watching the two figures, one sick and the other disabled, Xi Lingjian lowered his brow slightly.
“Where are the others?” he asked.
Following his master’s line of sight, Yin Ruche replied, “The Marquis of Mingliu got himself drunk yesterday and still hasn’t woken up. The female family members are all staying by his side, while Fu Yusu was dragged off by Fu Yanhou to play with fighting crickets. Fu Yanhou assumed the Heir Apparent was bound to lose and wanted to stick around to watch the joke after the duel ended, but after being told it was a draw, he went back to the estate.”
Xi Lingjian let out a cold scoff and said nothing.
After waiting for a long time without receiving any further instructions, Yin Ruche hurriedly looked to Meng Zhui.
Meng Zhui glanced at his master’s expression and twitched two fingers.
Knowing this meant he should keep talking, Yin Ruche had already said everything worth saying; there were only so many people in the Marquis of Mingliu’s estate worth paying attention to.
With a scalp-numbing pressure, he forced out, “There are no other movements from the others.”
Xi Lingjian glanced at the document in his hand. Despite its age and exposure to moisture, the ink on it hadn’t run at all.
He watched the stumbling figure moving like a reed in the wind.
When the man had said he wanted to send him off earlier, he had possessed that same weightless, wind-blown appearance.
What on earth was going on in his mind?
A few strands of black hair fell loose, swaying with a transparent water droplet perched on the tip of Xi Lingjian’s hair before choosing to drop away on their own, smart enough not to block the great official’s sight.
Xi Lingjian averted his gaze.
He coughed twice, prompting Yin Ruche to step forward eagerly, only for his master to turn his body away.
Seeing this, Meng Zhui bowed and began reporting to Xi Lingjian what had been discovered inside the hut.
Yin Ruche was left completely bewildered on the side.
When had Meng Zhui’s throat gotten this ruined? He couldn’t even catch nine out of ten words.
He did catch the last clear sentence, however: “The horses were not assigned special attendants earlier and their whereabouts are unknown. The Heir Apparent might know.”
Xi Lingjian’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly as he rubbed the thumb ring on his hand.
Naturally. He had watched that person lead his horse away looking quite pleased with himself.
“Go find him,” Xi Lingjian ordered.
Meng Zhui acknowledged the command with a grunt.
Yin Ruche didn’t dare speak.
Going through such a roundabout way meant he simply wanted to go find the Heir Apparent.
Taking a step forward, Xi Lingjian turned to look at Yin Ruche.
The latter shuddered and immediately stated, “This subordinate has already taken charge of the matter regarding the hut; it will yield results within a day.”
The gaze fixed upon him finally dissipated, and the sound of footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Slowly drawing closer to Fu Liao.
The black horse stopped first. Catching its master’s scent, Fu Liao paused, realizing Xi Lingjian had arrived. He signaled Zhichang to wait aside and went to greet him himself.
“Is there something else, Your Highness?”
Looking somewhat puzzled, Fu Liao saw the reins in his hand and awkwardly offered them out.
Seeing Xi Lingjian take them, Fu Liao withdrew his hand to blow warm breath on his fingertips, his stray strands of hair scattering messily behind him.
Perhaps to break the silence that always seemed to settle between them, Fu Liao spoke up in a low voice.
“Knowing there was no substantial evidence inside the hut, why insist on choosing today?”
With a slight, uncomfortable nasal congestion in his voice, Xi Lingjian sensed his sincere attitude, reminiscent of the statement from the previous night where he insisted he could still find a way.
And find a way he had.
“Do you think you have the right to question my intentions?” Xi Lingjian sneered. “I should be asking you instead: why must you refuse to let go of me?”
Fu Liao pressed his lips together.
“You insisted on subjecting Lü Chen to a judicial flogging to hint at your relationship with the imperial throne,” he murmured. “You wanted to warn the officials that your current status is enough to transition from a kept favorite to an equal partner.”
Fu Liao knew the current emperor was a mere puppet. Although everyone attributed this to Xi Lingjian manipulating him behind the scenes, the truth was that nobody dared to anger the child wearing the imperial robes.
Yet Xi Lingjian never cared for his own reputation, earning him the label of utterly devoid of conscience at the slightest hint of trouble.
Wanting to become emperor was hardly an unreasonable ambition to Fu Liao; at least his governance skills would surpass the current ruler’s by far.
If Xi Lingjian hadn’t died in the original text, he was meant to ascend the throne.
Staring at Xi Lingjian’s sharply defined profile, Fu Liao watched water droplets hang from the bridge of his high, handsome nose, outlining a dashing and heroic line.
His dark pupils were exceptionally clear at this moment, staring at him with a gaze resembling a predator eyeing prey already delivered to its doorstep.
The chill piercing through his bones made Fu Liao shrink back slightly, pulling his thoughts back to the present.
“Do you think the people at the banquet couldn’t figure that out?” Xi Lingjian looked down at him, emotion unreadable in his voice. “They were merely seizing the opportunity to stir up public opinion.”
Fu Liao paused.
He knew, yet he ignored it.
He shouldn’t have had to bear any of this.
Looking straight at him, Fu Liao said, “That is my reason.”
Xi Lingjian parted his lips, the indifference on his face resembling that of a monarch who had ruled alone for years.
“You can’t even manage yourself, yet you want to look after others?” he said. “Don’t indulge in self-righteous sentimentality, Heir Apparent; no one appreciates your gesture.”
Fu Liao knew that.
Nobody liked being pointed at and judged, nor did Fu Liao consider his actions purely righteous; he simply wanted to do them.
Now that Xi Lingjian had pointed it out, he would just switch to a less obvious approach, including changing the man’s temperament. Through subtle, day-by-day influence, he would eventually feel the impact, and perhaps change along with it.
That being the case, finding a way to stay by his side was all the more important.
“Oh my, if it isn’t the Heir Apparent!”
Xu Jingyi strode up to Fu Liao and glanced at Xi Lingjian. “Old man heard that the duel between the Heir Apparent and the Prince of Jing ended in a draw! Truly, the younger generation is formidable!”
Xi Lingjian sneered. Xu Jingyi dismissed it entirely, failing to notice that Xi Lingjian was looking past him at the several civil officials standing behind him, forced to wear reluctant, strained smiles.
“You flatter me, Official Xu,” Fu Liao replied calmly. “With the sudden landslide, preserving our lives is already a stroke of immense fortune.”
“The Heir Apparent left in such a rush that you didn’t prepare a carriage, so let my retinue send you back,” Xu Jingyi stroked his beard. “Old man heard there was a miraculous sight during the landslide and asked passersby, but they couldn’t explain it. Being quite curious, I wanted to stay and observe it.”
Seeing that Fu Liao had already been escorted away by Xu Jingyi’s attendants, Meng Zhui frowned.
“The Heir Apparent acting like this, could he be considered part of Official Xu’s faction now?” he lowered his voice to ask.
With little interest left, Xi Lingjian suddenly noticed that the slender figure had already turned around and was looking back at him.
The man mouthed a phrase.
“Stay warm.”
Meng Zhui heard a cracking sound.
It was the sound of the mud and stones beneath his master’s feet being crushed to pieces.
“If only he really were.”
The master’s voice was ground out through clenched teeth.