“Plop.”
Yin Ruoche was the first to break the silence.
Unable to contain his laughter, his entire body shook, startling Fu Liao so badly that he took a few steps back.
Immediately, three gazes converged upon him, scaring him so much that he almost instinctively reached for his sword. After a habitual glance backward, he wisely declared, “This subordinate will take his leave first!”
Fearing he might be punished again, Yin Ruoche grabbed Meng Zhi by the sleeve as he fled, dragging him along.
As a eunuch, Meng Zhi naturally lacked Yin Ruoche’s physical strength. No matter how furious he felt, his shouts were dismissed by Yin Ruoche, who simply ignored them in one ear and let them out the other.
In the blink of an eye, the cavernous hall was once again left with only Fu Liao and Xi Lingjian.
Resting his hand casually on the saber at his waist, Xi Lingjian tapped it twice and let out a dry chuckle. “I have not even mentioned where he escaped to yet, and the heir is already feeling guilty?”
Realizing his reaction had been overly defensive, Fu Liao felt a flush creep up his neck, suffusing his face with a warm glow as he wished he could bury his head deep within the soft wool of the lamb in his arms.
He knew Xi Lingjian was not bluffing, after all, the man had seen it all clearly.
Xi Lingjian was simply mocking him, but the underlying, genuine or fabricated aura of lethality hidden within the joke prevented Fu Liao from letting his guard down.
“I did not say he escaped to my place either,” Fu Liao said, hardening his scalp. “I was merely afraid Your Highness might suspect me of having an ambiguous relationship with Ji Liandu.”
Xi Lingjian was truly something else; watching his own beloved confess to a romantic rival without erupting on the spot, if not for a bizarre sense of dark humor, he must have been plotting how to torture him.
Yet even now, Xi Lingjian likely had not realized the stifled vexation taking root in his own heart.
He was unwilling to admit that he had developed feelings for a fragile performing artist, not just because of his own lofty status, but out of fear of acquiring a fatal vulnerability from that moment on.
Thus, the world only knew that the Prince Regent had taken a fancy to Young Master Ji and ransomed him back to his private estate simply to play music and dance for him.
Terms like “took a fancy to,” “favored,” and “affection” all carried distinct shades of meaning, conveniently masking the emotional attachment Xi Lingjian refused to acknowledge.
“You really do care deeply about him,” Xi Lingjian sneered softly.
The biting sarcasm hit him full force.
Fu Liao had originally intended to stick to his earlier resolution and avoid preaching, but such suffocating emotions left him feeling intensely restricted.
He could not hold back the words any longer.
“That is because you care deeply about him,” he said softly.
Xi Lingjian glanced at him, paused, and tightened his brow fractionally.
This person genuinely believed his own heart belonged to Ji Liandu.
The rumors circulating outside had all been planted by himself.
The more they assumed he was indulging in sensual pleasures, and the more crucial Ji Liandu’s position among the eunuchs appeared, the more confident they became that he could achieve his goals.
And as long as Ji Liandu tasted a bit of sweetness, he would shortsightedly assume things were proceeding entirely as he wished.
The more one craved power, the narrower one’s worldview became.
And the easier it was to manipulate.
The fact that Fu Liao had reacted with such swift precision at the Leisure Garden proved he was not entirely oblivious to the current political landscape; surely he could not be so hopelessly naive when it came to matters of the heart, letting himself get hooked by a mere glance.
Xi Lingjian rubbed his thumb ring.
Of course, it was entirely possible he genuinely liked Ji Liandu.
Just as his father detested him because he had a mother who attempted to purge the eunuchs.
His own erratic, ever-changing treatment of him, eventually culminating in loathing, stemmed from that exact premise.
No matter how hard he tried to please him, they remained mutually repulsive to each other, until the final resolution was simply out of sight, out of mind.
The world was as simple as that.
While some people wove intricate webs in their hearts, others possessed unyielding passion.
He simply refused to believe that someone so extraordinary could fail to escape convention and fall victim to the snare of romance.
That being the case, why bother trying to dictate whether he let himself drift along with it?
Seeing Xi Lingjian remain silent, Fu Liao assumed the man was refusing to admit it and let the matter drop.
“I know Ji Liandu has an agenda.”
After a moment of careful deliberation, Fu Liao continued, “What he said to me was merely to draw us closer, and Your Highness must know he holds no genuine affection for me.”
Possessiveness was one thing, and Xi Lingjian was well aware of these dynamics; he was merely terrified that Ji Liandu might seek out alternative protection. As for others, once they severed their ties to Ji Liandu, Xi Lingjian did not actually care about them at all.
What Fu Liao had not anticipated was that, upon hearing these words meant to absolve him, Xi Lingjian’s movements stalled entirely, as if he had been choked by laughter.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance to Fu Liao with terrifying speed, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him back into the chair with a heavy thud.
Fu Liao felt his back clip the top of the wooden frame. Fortunately, the backrest was large enough to keep him from striking the corner, though a wave of dull ache radiated outward immediately.
“Then you tell me: why did Ji Liandu go through such elaborate lengths to break out?”
Fu Liao had never stared into Xi Lingjian’s eyes at such close range, not even when draped over the man earlier.
Now, within those profound, fathomless pupils, he could see his own reflection.
Indifferent to public opinion, entirely unyielding.
And within his own eyes, he saw nothing but Xi Lingjian’s reddened gaze.
Gone was the usual serene composure; the intense stare locked onto him felt as though it wanted to flay him alive on the spot.
Uncertain why the man had suddenly turned like this, Fu Liao weighed his words carefully before answering. “He was desperate to shake off the eunuchs and secure an audience with the Emperor; his illness made him frantic and reckless.”
Xi Lingjian cut him off sharply. “Do you actually believe that?”
For the first time, Fu Liao experienced what people meant when they spoke of the Yama who crawled out of an abyss of sins.
A single glance from him made escape seem impossible, leaving nothing behind in the mind save for a blank, swirling void, devoid of even a shred of hope for survival.
Xi Lingjian merely braced his hands against the armrests of the chair, yet it was enough to pin Fu Liao in place as rigidly as if he were locked in iron shackles.
Fu Liao felt his voice begin to tremble, and a sharp cramp twisted in his abdomen.
“I know, he should not have sought me out,” Fu Liao forced himself to remain calm. “I have never even met the Emperor, and my father disapproves of my associating with him. He should not have come to me. I find it strange myself.”
After a brief hesitation, he whispered, “Did I do something to anger Your Highness? If you tell me, I will not do it again. Please do not let it anger you, Your Highness; your health is what matters.”
Pausing, his brows knit together slightly. “If you miss the morning court session tomorrow, they will start gossiping again.”
Xi Lingjian’s breath hitched.
His eyelid twitched.
A hand suddenly clamped onto Fu Liao’s cheek, yanking outward with force.
Fu Liao let out a pained Mmph, followed immediately by Xi Lingjian’s voice.
“Did you think I was like you?” The words were ground out between gritted teeth. “Fragile and delicate.”
A mere touch made him feel pain, yet when he was genuinely injured, he kept his mouth shut and endured it in silence.
Seeing this, Fu Liao’s eyes brightened. “Your Highness is not angry anymore?”
“Pushing your luck,” Xi Lingjian scolded, his expression instantly icing over. “You knew he was using you, so why did you still help him?”
Fu Liao thought to himself that the man had indeed misunderstood him again. Just as he was scrambling for words, Xi Lingjian spoke up.
“During the partition of Northern Chu, Minzhou suffered a severe famine. I led my troops to hold the line, sharing rations with the local people until the stores hit rock bottom, and reinforcements failed to arrive. At that moment, an old monk appeared, claiming he would not let them starve, and began distributing his personal dry rations to the refugees.”
“Later, his rations dwindled, and the distributions dropped to once every two days, then once every five days. People began accusing him of being selfish,” Xi Lingjian continued. “When the rations finally ran out entirely, they claimed the old monk had broken his word and deserved to die, so they ended up butchering and consuming the old monk as well.”
Xi Lingjian’s gaze grew distant. “Blood, flesh, bones, dismembered all over the ground.”
Fu Liao was silent for a moment before asking, “Was Your Highness present at the time?”
“Are you accusing me of standing by and watching someone die?”
Fu Liao stroked the lamb’s head. “Did the old monk resist?”
Xi Lingjian did not answer.
“Since he did not resist, it means he accepted the consequence.” Fu Liao met his gaze with clear eyes.
Xi Lingjian let out a cynical laugh. “Do you think his behavior is worthy of praise?”
Fu Liao shook his head. “His behavior merely reinforced the convictions of those who already had firm beliefs.”
Saying this, a sudden realization struck him.
Was Xi Lingjian actually worrying about him?
The reason he was angry was because he felt it was absurd that Fu Liao allowed himself to be used by Ji Liandu?
Fu Liao shrank back, curling into a ball on the chair to make himself appear even smaller, though a subtle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“I will not let myself be consumed.”
He patted the lamb’s head gently. “As Your Highness can see, though I get hurt sometimes, am I not still alive and well?”
“Besides, I had no way of refusing Ji Liandu back then anyway,” he added. “Ji Liandu knows who has more leverage value, and I am clearly not one of them.”
At best, he was merely a stepping stone.
Xi Lingjian’s eyes grew murky. He let out a mocking chuckle, sounding half like self-derision. “You truly still do not understand your own situation.”
“I will tell you why he rushed out this time.”
Straightening up, Xi Lingjian clapped his hands. Instantly, Yin Ruoche dragged a bloody, mutilated figure out from the inner hall.
Before Fu Liao could even look properly, the thick stench of blood hit him, leaving him dizzy and nauseous.
As Xi Lingjian stepped aside, Fu Liao finally saw that the man had a piece of cloth jammed into his mouth to keep him from making noise, though the cloth was nearly slipping out now, as the man’s jaw had been completely deformed.
“This person is Ji Liandu’s personal attendant, and also a spy planted by the eunuchs to monitor him,” Xi Lingjian did not even glance down as he pointed at the man. “Ji Liandu had wanted him dead for a long time. This time, he deliberately asked him to help him escape, purely so I would punish this wretch for dereliction of duty.”
“Originally, Ji Liandu should have been standing right here to watch,” Xi Lingjian laughed softly. “Since he did not come back, the heir can substitute for him.”
Yin Ruoche wore a troubled expression, though it vanished in an instant. With clean, practiced precision, he pressed the back of Fu Liao’s neck, forcing him to face the horrific scene of mangled flesh directly.
“Offense taken, Heir.”
Without drawing his blade from its scabbard, Xi Lingjian brought the hilt crashing down onto the man’s exposed bone.
The attendant let out another heart-rending shriek.
Though called heart-rending, practically no sound emerged anymore.
“Do you know who will be next after him?”
Xi Lingjian methodically wiped down his blood-stained scabbard.
Fu Liao averted his gaze as much as humanly possible, though red and white remnants still stained the edges of his vision.
He knew what Xi Lingjian was implying.
Ji Liandu had originally intended for him to die here.
He knew Xi Lingjian had a habit of venting his fury on those nearby; in truth, he had hoped Fu Liao would be discovered inside his room, ending up just like this attendant.
He had no idea why Ji Liandu wanted him dead, while Xi Lingjian had deliberately pretended not to notice, leaving him a backdoor for survival.
Yet Fu Liao could not shake the feeling that something was amiss, though he could not quite put his finger on it.
The attendant still retained a shred of breath, struggling feebly to lift himself up.
Without a second glance, Xi Lingjian brought his foot down heavily on the back of the man’s neck.
That unhuman mass twitched violently a few more times before going still.
“Your Highness!”
Fu Liao wanted to step forward to stop him. The moment he took a step, before Yin Ruoche even had to apply pressure, the unspeakable stench forced him back, compelling him to clutch his stomach to stave off the nausea.
Seeing Fu Liao turn increasingly pale, Xi Lingjian spoke at a leisurely pace. “Want to play savior again?”
“No,” Fu Liao breathed out slowly, his eyes carrying a mixture of inquiry and concern. “Since Your Highness’s leg is injured, you should not be exerting force.”