Fu Liao sniffed. As that familiar agarwood scent completely dissipated and he felt the soft ball of fur at his ankles rubbing against him, as if urging him to return to his room, he scooped up the lamb and prepared to sneak back inside.
After taking two steps, a humid breeze swept by, carrying that familiar scent back to him. Fu Liao stood frozen in place for a moment, completely dazed.
He neither stepped forward to trace Xi Lingjian’s whereabouts nor retreated to his room.
He wanted to do both.
He wanted to hurry and explain the misunderstanding to Xi Lingjian, yet he worried about being interrogated for not returning to his room in time. The two competing impulses seemed to conspire against him, causing his brain to short-circuit as he hid in the corner, looking very much like a child who had done something wrong and was evading punishment.
“Ah-Liao?”
He heard that voice reach his bedroom door.
His fingertips felt a slight trickle of liquid: blood slowly seeping from the wound on the lamb’s front leg.
Fu Liao came to his senses, blaming his illness for making his brain turn to mush.
He patted the lamb soothingly. Recognizing that this person had saved its life, the lamb obediently snuggled into Fu Liao’s embrace. The warmth against his arm helped steady his nerves.
He stepped out from the secluded spot.
“I am here.” Fu Liao spotted the newcomer. “Big Brother.”
Fu Yaoshu came to a halt at the door, frowning deeply, his face etched with worry.
Before Fu Liao could say another word, footsteps drew closer, and his peripheral vision caught the sudden appearance of someone else and a sheep.
“Ah-Liao?” Fu Yaoshu asked in surprise. “Why did you wander outside? You just got caught in the rain; if you don’t rest properly, you’ll be bedridden for days.”
His gaze shifted to the creature cradled in his younger brother’s arms, and his relaxed brow furrowed once more. “Where did this sheep come from? Make sure Father doesn’t see it.”
“Father just left. He brought me some tonic, but I had no appetite, so I had Zhichang put it away in the outer chamber first,” Fu Liao said, blending truth with falsehood. “I suddenly heard a sheep bleating, so I came out to take a look, and I never expected a sheep to actually wander in. I have no idea where it came from, only that it was injured.”
Fu Liao presented the lamb’s injured forelimb to Fu Yaoshu, whose gaze flickered, clearly shaken.
“Does Father hate sheep?” Fu Liao pondered for a moment, then boldly asked. “How come I’ve never heard of it? I was actually thinking of keeping it as a pet.”
Fu Yaoshu shook his head. “Father has never said as much, I only have a feeling that he seems to detest such gentle, frail creatures, sheep, rabbits, and the like. He usually kills them on sight. If it’s an occasion like a spring or autumn hunt, he specifically targets those types of game.”
He looked at the pitiful expression of the lamb in Fu Liao’s arms and sighed. “Fortunately, your courtyard is spacious enough to hide it.”
“By the way, where is Zhichang?” Fu Yaoshu looked around, failing to spot the familiar limping figure. “Ah-Liao, you are precisely at the stage where you need care; how can there be no one around you?”
“Zhichang went out to gather some news for me.” Fu Liao blinked, a hint of complacency in his tone. “Didn’t I tie the Prince Regent in our duel? That news must have spread by now, and I wanted to hear how the streets are praising me.”
He remained somewhat fuzzy on the original owner’s family dynamics. Fu Yaoshu clearly cared about him, but Fu Yanhou seemed to detest him, frequently pulling Fu Yaoshu away as if attempting to isolate him.
Judging by past experiences, Fu Yaoshu rarely pushed back against Fu Yanhou either.
Perhaps it was simply because Fu Yaoshu was too much of a pushover. As the eldest half-brother who treated his younger siblings well, he often had to shoulder the responsibilities of half a parent.
Regardless, lacking a complete understanding of the situation, Fu Liao had no intention of acting rashly.
Fu Yaoshu was momentarily stunned.
The person before him was indeed his younger brother, eager to show off the moment he achieved a minor success, yet he somehow felt different from before.
His last two sentences carried a playful undertone, and his temperament seemed far more cheerful than in the past.
Even cradling a sheep looked surprisingly gentle; previously, he would have found it annoying within a single moment.
Fu Yaoshu let out a soft breath.
It was likely just because Ah-Liao was still recovering from his illness, leaving his voice weak and diluting that sense of braggadocio.
“That is true, the streets are filled with talk of Ah-Liao’s exploits right now,” he sighed with gratified relief. “When did Ah-Liao learn horsemanship? You should have told us. Father was worried sick and nearly rushed off to argue with the Prince Regent in person.”
Fu Liao’s brow twitched slightly.
Yet when Fu Pengfu had visited earlier, the stench of wine on him had not even dissipated; he hadn’t looked remotely like someone intending to argue with anyone.
“Wasn’t I just trying to give you all a surprise?” Fu Liao stuck out the tip of his tongue. “Big Brother, you don’t need to worry.”
Fu Yaoshu’s expression failed to relax much. “With this sudden downpour… I also heard that the mountain experienced some divine manifestation. Is there any truth to that? Did Ah-Liao truly see the Dragon King while he was ill? How did Ah-Liao feel back then, was anything uncomfortable?”
Fu Liao paused his fingertips, speaking vaguely. “The rain was exceptionally heavy at the time, I couldn’t see a thing and nearly tumbled off the cliff. As for the Dragon King, that’s just nonsense whispered by outsiders, it merely happened to rain.”
“Perhaps the Prince Regent felt slighted and wanted to invent a convenient excuse to save face,” he chuckled softly.
Fu Yaoshu relaxed by an imperceptible margin.
Seeing this, Fu Liao felt a twinge of curiosity, but noticing Fu Yaoshu’s apparent desire to mask that reaction, he decided to drop the subject for now.
The lamb in his arms suddenly shifted.
Following right behind the movement came the rustling sound from the gap in the wall.
Someone was approaching through the breach.
Fu Liao’s heart instantly leapt into his throat.
Xi Lingjian?
No, when Xi Lingjian approached, he made no sound at all.
There was someone else who knew about this gap.
Meng Zhi trailed closely behind Xi Lingjian.
They were nearly back at the estate, yet the master hadn’t uttered a single word nor issued a single command, the silence heavy enough to feel suffocating.
While Meng Zhi was lost in thought, he heard the master speak abruptly.
“Do you think what he said was true?”
Meng Zhi’s initial impulse was to answer no.
Lowering his gaze, he noticed the jade pendant at his master’s waist swaying wildly with its owner’s movements, verging on losing composure, and hesitated.
In truth, the master rarely solicited opinions from subordinates like them; the last time he could recall was back when…
Thankfully, they picked up Yin Ruoche later on. Although the fellow didn’t quite grasp the master’s inner thoughts, he was at least obedient and sensible, wearing all his thoughts on his sleeve without trying to second-guess imperial intent.
With him around, the master’s suspicions had eased slightly.
Meng Zhi knew that whether he answered or not, the master’s mind was already made up.
Yet he spoke anyway.
“Master, I suspect even the heir himself finds that far-fetched fabrication hard to swallow.” His raspy voice masked his underlying concern. “If he truly harbored deep affection for Young Master Ji, why not ransom him sooner?”
“Meng Zhi, your old habit is acting up again.” Xi Lingjian sidestepped a streak of sunset light spilling across the trail. “I’ve met more than enough people; I’m not someone easily duped by sweet words like Xinhongshen.”
Meng Zhi remained silent.
Even the master rarely addressed the Emperor by his given name.
“I simply feel…” Xi Lingjian hesitated for a rare moment. “If it were him, he might actually pull off something like that.”
“Even if so, that remains the heir’s own choice,” Meng Zhi said. “A played move cannot be taken back; that is what Your Highness taught this servant.”
“Master, regarding Lü Chen’s affair, there are still lingering threads. Shall we root them out while the momentum is on our side?” he changed the subject.
Xi Lingjian paused in his stride.
“No need. Those people were already Xu Jingyi’s discarded pawns. As for the rest, since they haven’t been brought into the open, we can ignore them,” he said with an ambiguous smile.
Meng Zhi failed to grasp the underlying meaning.
“Xu Jingyi was Lü Chen’s patron, yet among all those letters, not a single piece of correspondence from Xu Jingyi was included,” Xi Lingjian prompted. “Presumably they were destroyed. If so, why leave the rest intact?”
“This…” Meng Zhi dared not guess. “Perhaps Lü Chen intended to keep them as leverage?”
“Why would he need leverage over officials holding lower ranks than him? In their eyes, Lü Chen was their backer; they were too busy trying to curry favor to plot against him,” Xi Lingjian rubbed his thumb ring. “On the contrary, with someone of Xu Jingyi’s high standing, he left zero self-preservation items behind. It couldn’t possibly be because he trusted his patron implicitly.”
Meng Zhi’s brow furrowed tightly as he rasped out, “Could it be that Official Xu orchestrated…”
Xi Lingjian gave a slight nod.
“Those individuals were already targets of Xu Jingyi’s suspicion; lacking absolute certainty, he turned Lü Chen into his pawn as well,” Xi Lingjian said. “He merely wished to use this to hand Me a favor, binding My hands so I couldn’t act against him rashly while simultaneously eliminating political dissidents.”
He originally had no desire to deal with Xu Jingyi, yet because of that person, a twist of fate had inadvertently played right into Xu Jingyi’s hands.
Though there had been no actual loss.
On the contrary, it yielded a fresh harvest.
Noticing the faint curve at the corner of his master’s mouth, Meng Zhi wore a complicated expression. “Yet among those individuals, none of our people were involved.”
Xi Lingjian’s expression reverted to its usual blank slate. “Official Xu certainly won’t see it that way, so let him imagine whatever he pleases.”
The estate gates swung open to reveal Yin Ruoche wearing an unsightly expression.
“Your Highness!” Yin Ruoche dropped to one knee. “This subordinate has failed in his duty!”
Before he could attempt to stand, he added in a tiny, timid voice, “Regarding that earlier offer to offset my guilt with service, might it still…”
“Kneel,” Xi Lingjian slanted a glance at him. “It has already been offset.”
Yin Ruoche blinked. “When?”
“What matter?” Xi Lingjian countered.
Yin Ruoche pursed his lips, muttering glumly, “Young Master Ji has slipped away again.”
The trailing half of his sentence was delivered in silent lip-read form: “He used someone from the eunuch’s faction.”
Xi Lingjian narrowed his eyes. “The attendant keeping watch on him?”
“Precisely,” Yin Ruoche reported. “This subordinate has instructed everyone to act as though nothing happened. That attendant is still sweeping the back courtyard, completely unaware that we’ve discovered Young Master Ji’s escape.”
“Good. He finally couldn’t help himself.” Xi Lingjian lifted his chin, signaling him to rise. “Who did he go to meet?”
“Young Master Ji didn’t seek out a contact.” Yin Ruoche resignedly dropped back to his knees. “…He went to find the heir.”
Qinglin grew so distressed by the suddenly congealing air that it let out a soft whimper, scurrying away from its master’s side to hide quietly within its own territory.
“Ji… Xiao Ji, why did you sneak out again?” Fu Liao hurriedly bolted the door. “Are you feeling any better?”
Having barely managed to muddle through, Fu Yaoshu had only just departed, Ji Liandu emerged straight through the gap in the wall.
“Where are your knitted socks?” Noticing Ji Liandu was still barefoot and looking disheveled, Fu Liao frowned. “It just rained, are you injured? Do you still have the medicine I gave you?”
He hastily unclasped his fur cloak, draped it over Ji Liandu, and fetched another for himself.
Just as Ji Liandu opened his mouth, he was choked off by Fu Liao’s rapid-fire questions and flurry of actions.
Noticing Fu Liao’s finger knuckles were slightly red and that he kept suppressing soft coughs, he knew the man must have caught a chill.
The words he had prepared stuck in his throat, and upon raising his head, he met the genuine concern shining in the other’s eyes.
“Is it not warm enough? Come sit down.” Disregarding the dirt staining Ji Liandu’s clothes, Fu Liao pulled him onto the bed to sit. “What happened?”
“I…” Ji Liandu twisted his delicate brows, his lips opening and closing without managing to squeeze out a single word.
Fu Liao assumed he was simply too anxious and temporarily lost for words.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the courtyard.
“It’s Prince Regent!”
“What brings the Prince Regent to my humble estate?” Fu Liao now had reason to thank Fu Pengfu’s booming lungs.
Unfortunately, the Regent’s movements were always swift; he entirely ignored Fu Pengfu’s inquiry.
Fu Liao had already spotted the figure striding straight toward them.
Ji Liandu let out a tsk and hurriedly scurried into a corner, while Fu Liao hurried forward to greet him.
“Your Highness.”
Xi Lingjian’s steps abruptly slowed down.
That greeting sounded, curiously enough, rather joyous.
When he reached Fu Liao, Xi Lingjian realized it wasn’t his imagination.
The slender heir was staring straight at him.
He looked nervous, intentionally blocking Ji Liandu from view while leaning slightly backward as if resisting his approach.
Yet the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly, and his eyes appeared far brighter than usual.
Perhaps Fu Liao himself hadn’t realized it, but his gaze carried a distinct trace of eager elation.