Ji Liandu watched Xi Lingjian, who was seated conspicuously in the center of the room.
What a dazzling figure, acting recklessly and doing as he pleased, as though the entire world belonged to him. Anything could be effortlessly grasped in his palm and just as easily discarded.
Biting his back teeth, Ji Liandu halted the step he had been about to take.
“What if I simply refuse to return?” Ji Liandu let out a chilly laugh.
“I know you dare not touch me. As long as I retain a shred of value, my life is not in peril.”
After all, he was the bridge maintaining the delicate balance between Xi Lingjian and that eunuch dog.
Xi Lingjian let out a light scoff. His fingertips brushed against the soft black hair of the person in his arms, playing with a few strands before letting them go.
“How much longer do you suppose that shred of value will last?” A hint of a very faint smile lingered in his eyes. “Having dealt with so many prominent figures for so long, do you still not know they never rely on just a single plan?”
Ji Liandu faltered.
“The Heir Apparent will not let this rest either.” His conviction was no longer as resolute as moments before.
Disdaining to spare Ji Liandu a glance, Xi Lingjian touched Fu Liao’s fever-flushed cheek as if shifting his attention elsewhere.
“He certainly will not let it rest.” Xi Lingjian’s eyes reflected the young man’s refined profile.
He looked like a scion of a scholarly family who had been placed in the wrong era, forced to maintain his integrity and noble breeze amidst such a turbid and vulgar world.
Whether he truly did not care, or believed he possessed the ability and lacked all fear of getting tainted by filth, he seemed completely devoid of defense mechanisms against anything.
He readily trusted people he had never met before, cared for hypocritical individuals, and even worried about himself, an enemy who had originally intended to take his life.
Was he a spirit that had never witnessed the malice of human hearts, or an immortal who had descended to undergo mortal trials?
“Neither will I.” Xi Lingjian kept his gaze fixed ahead. “You have no chance left. You should know I have countless ways to keep that breath lingering in you.”
A chilling numbness spread through Ji Liandu’s entire body.
Impossible.
Xi Lingjian had already formed an alliance with him, he could not go back on his word.
He was bound to be a crucial pawn in the man’s plans, otherwise he would have killed him the very first time they met.
Ji Liandu’s gaze gradually emptied.
His unfocused sight drifted aimlessly in the air for a long while before suddenly landing on the person slumped against Xi Lingjian.
Ji Liandu’s eyes flickered several times.
Could it be…
Paying no further attention to the commotion over there, Xi Lingjian quietly watched Fu Liao, as though time itself had paused right here.
Why did he care so much about Ji Liandu?
Could it be that he truly favored him?
Xi Lingjian could not conceive of any stakes or leverage that would give this person a reason to be so fixated on Ji Liandu.
Unless everything he had said was the truth.
Whether due to being wrapped in too many layers of clothing or because a fever had set in, the temperature on Fu Liao’s face was quite high. It was as though someone who had suffered through freezing cold for too long had latched onto a heat source and refused to let go once found.
“Mmh…”
Amidst his feverish haze, Fu Liao brushed against something cool, feeling almost like a thorn piercing into his flesh.
He drew his neck back uncomfortably, which in turn aggravated his injury.
Yet his expression was no longer as pained as before.
In the process of resisting, his skin gradually adapted to the temperature of the face near his, and the close contact caused the palm resting against his cheek to grow warmer. In the end, Fu Liao actually took the initiative to nuzzle closer to that warm, dry spot.
He let out a comfortable sigh of satisfaction.
A long-lost sensation.
Perhaps it felt too comfortable and secure, prompting Fu Liao to rouse slightly from his deep sleep.
Hadn’t all his busy efforts up to this point been for the sake of finding this fleeting peace, where he wouldn’t have to dwell on or worry about his own survival?
Gradually regaining consciousness, Fu Liao kept his eyelids half-drooped.
The thumb resting against his chin wore a jade thumb ring, it was Xi Lingjian’s hand.
Leaning against him, Fu Liao could faintly feel Xi Lingjian’s torso rising and falling slightly with each breath, along with the faint, steady sound of inhaling and exhaling that felt solid and grounded, reminding him of a temple bronze bell.
He stared blankly at the spot where he had just bandaged Xi Lingjian.
He hadn’t expected to find this kind of peace of mind in Xi Lingjian of all people.
Moving slightly, Fu Liao brushed against Xi Lingjian’s hanging hand, startled, and hurriedly pulled away.
Xi Lingjian paused.
“Awoken already?”
His head was likely far too muddled, Fu Liao thought. Xi Lingjian’s tone was far too gentle, as if he were terrified of waking him up.
Fu Liao felt his long hair being combed through from behind his head.
Rather than combed, it felt more like Xi Lingjian had suddenly taken a fancy to it, casually scooping up a few strands in his palm, winding them around his fingertips a few times, and then boringly letting them drop.
Fu Liao blinked slowly a few times.
“Your Highness has mistaken me for someone else…”
Slurred and muffled words slipped past his lips, and after coughing a couple of times, Fu Liao could clearly feel his throat growing uncomfortable.
Xi Lingjian’s movements paused.
“Do you take me for someone like you?”
True to form, a hint of sarcasm laced Xi Lingjian’s chuckle.
Right, that must have just been my imagination.
Fu Liao exhaled softly.
Someone who grew interested on a whim and discarded things just as easily, wasn’t that precisely his attitude toward Ji Liandu?
Besides, when would the man ever allow anyone to sit on his lap? This was supposed to be Ji Liandu’s place.
…Sit on his lap?
Fu Liao jerked his head up, immediately sending a sharp, agonizing throb through his temples.
Xi Lingjian’s gaze darkened as he stared fixedly at Fu Liao.
The layered, overlapping garments on Fu Liao provided enough cover for him to brazenly keep the two of them in their previous posture.
The closer the sound of breathing grew, the more it prevented him from moving away. His earlobes burned with uncomfortable heat, and Xi Lingjian’s eyes drew all his attention entirely to himself.
“Bang!”
The room door was violently kicked open with malicious force.
“Prince of Jing! My son merely fought you to a draw, what is the meaning of being so petty!”
Fu Pengfu’s booming voice could pierce an eardrum from a great distance away, causing Fu Liao’s head to ache even more violently.
“Your Highness the Regent, this official has already heard the full account from the Marquis,” Xu Jingyi followed closely behind, letting out a sigh. “The Heir Apparent is merely young and a bit too eager to win. Besides, it was only a draw, Your Highness ought to be gladdened that our Northern Chu possesses such promising talent!”
Fu Liao pressed his lips together.
Framing Xi Lingjian as a petty-minded person in just a few words, evidently, they had already coordinated their story along the way.
With a complicated expression, Fu Liao looked toward Fu Pengfu, only to find his father refusing to spare him even a single glance as he stood with his hands defiantly on his hips, wearing the smug look of someone who had caught a powerful official red-handed.
“As the Regent, Your Highness should know how precious your status is, yet you still chose to come to my estate and brawl with me!”
Fu Pengfu pointed at the jade shards scattered on the floor. “Even my jade pendant was smashed to pieces!”
Fu Liao’s brow twitched sharply, and a dull ache flared in his chest.
Xi Lingjian sneered.
“Official Xu, the Marquis’s eyes are failing him, but are yours as well?”
Xi Lingjian tilted his head slightly, exposing the bandage-wrapped wound on his neck to their view.
“What exactly did the Marquis claim happened?” Frowning for a split second, he smoothed down his robes. “If I attacked the Marquis, why is it only I who bears injuries?”
“Hmph, if my son can fight you to a standstill, why shouldn’t I be able to best you?!”
Fu Pengfu planted his hands on his hips, raised a pinky finger, and let out a scoff filled with derision.
“Besides, who knows if that’s even an old injury of yours? Perhaps you picked it up while riding!” He burst into loud laughter.
Fu Liao frowned deeply.
His father… why was he acting like this?
Fu Pengfu’s animosity toward Xi Lingjian was blindingly obvious, yet Fu Liao never expected a marquis to resort to such undignified provocation.
Lowering his gaze, he looked toward Xu Jingyi.
Standing outside the doorway without even crossing the threshold, Xu Jingyi offered a token remark before silently witnessing the dispute between Fu Pengfu and Xi Lingjian, acting as though he had known nothing of the matter beforehand.
Sitting on the mountain to watch the tigers fight.
This fire was probably stoked by him in the first place.
Fu Liao clutched his abdomen, trying to suppress a rising wave of nausea.
“Furthermore, if I had caused those injuries, who do you suppose bandaged your wound?” Fu Pengfu twirled his mustache triumphantly. “A-Liao, tell them whether I’m right!”
Fu Liao’s hand, which had been reaching to moisten his throat with water, froze in place.
Xi Lingjian also turned around, fixing his gaze squarely on him.
Fu Liao had never imagined a moment could feel so agonizingly long.
Three pairs of eyes stared at him.
No, four pairs.
Without realizing it, Fu Liao took a step backward.
“I came precisely because I caught sight of the Heir Apparent’s heroic demeanor,” Xi Lingjian said, looking straight at him. “Such talent led me to invite him to instruct the Northern Chu Feathered Forest Guards, which is why I came to call upon him.”
Xu Jingyi’s expression stiffened before he heard Xi Lingjian continue, “Didn’t Official Xu submit a memorial urging me to pacify Shangmu as soon as possible? I am simply making preparations. Does Official Xu object to that as well?”
“Heir Apparent, what say you?”
Fu Liao drew a shallow breath.
His gaze swept across all three of them.
Slowly, he spoke.
“I am tired.”
Fu Pengfu’s eyes widened. “What did you say?!”
“I am tired.” Fearless, Fu Liao raised his voice, his brow furrowing in a rare display of irritation. “Did you not hear me? This nobleman said I am tired!”
He could not afford to make a choice at this juncture.
The New Party versus the Old Party, his distortion-loving father versus the man whose attitude toward him remained so ambiguous.
“This nobleman attended a banquet this morning, then dueled with the Prince of Jing, and on top of that got caught in a torrential rain and a landslide halfway through. I finally managed to return to the estate, and before I’ve even rested for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, I have to listen to you all bicker inside my bedchamber?”
His delivery was chillingly calm, yet everyone present could clearly perceive his extreme impatience, held back only by a thin leash before a full eruption.
“So, right now, I am in a terrible mood, and I am going to sleep.”
Coughing twice more, Fu Liao felt whatever strength he had left drain entirely from his body after finishing that speech. Leaning heavily against a bedpost, he caught his breath in ragged gasps.
A sharp pain throbbed in his chest, cooperating perfectly with the act as pain began to wrap tightly around his entire body.
He forced himself to read the expressions on each of their faces.
Xu Jingyi, standing in the back assuming no one noticed him, wore a look of palpable rage, Fu Pengfu looked utterly disappointed, flicking his sleeve away as he glared at his son in a manner that screamed iron refusing to become steel.
Xi Lingjian’s lips curved upward in the fainted of smiles.
Fu Liao parted his mouth, trying to steady his numb jaw, but the numbness pierced through him like needles from every direction.
Was this also part of his calculations?
Fu Liao had no time to ponder further.
The world before him flickered between light and shadow, and everything around him began to double into overlapping ghosts.
The final sound registering in his consciousness was likely the heavy thud of his body colliding with the corner of the bed.
Along with the sight of Xi Lingjian rushing forward ahead of everyone else.