Fu Liao lay on his side on the soft couch, clutching the thin quilt Zhichang had brought over.
Covering himself with it was both stuffy and hot, making it hard to breathe, yet going without it left him feeling chilled to the bone, causing a profound and exhausting discomfort.
“My lord, it looks like the weather is about to change. Jingzhou hasn’t seen rain in a long time, and on the way back, I saw heavy dark clouds gathering all over the sky. I’m afraid it’s going to pour tonight,” Zhichang worried aloud. “It’s so muggy right now; if you’re really feeling unwell, we still need to call a physician. We can’t afford to be careless.”
“It’s fine. I know my own body best.” Fu Liao gripped the fabric tighter. “Did you take care of everything I asked?”
Fu Liao knew his distress stemmed mostly from pure tension.
“It’s all handled! The young masters were playing out in the west of the city, so I only spread the word on the far east side. No one from our household went out, so the news won’t reach here anytime soon.” Zhichang grew curious. “My lord… did that high official really wake you up? But I honestly didn’t notice a thing, and the gate guards didn’t report any movement either! Besides, why would that high official do such a thing?”
Fu Liao smiled without answering right away. “You’re getting quite resourceful with your errands.”
Zhichang rubbed the back of his head and grinned foolishly.
It was fortunate that Zhichang loved gossip and excelled at it.
Fu Liao exhaled, barely managing to stretch a hand out from beneath the quilt to massage his temples.
He felt dizzy and lightheaded. He had rehearsed his plans over and over in his mind, though his sanity told him it was all in vain.
“I’m a bit tired and want to rest for a while.” Fu Liao shivered.
It was the injury left by Xi Lingjian pressing down on his collarbone; any large movement would set it throbbing.
He drew a sharp breath through his nose. “Go wait outside the door for now. Help block people, and I’ll explain everything in detail to you later.”
“Alright, alright!” Zhichang was still excited, rubbing his hands together as he followed his master’s orders.
Even without this gloomy weather, Fu Liao would have been drowsy, yet his mind remained wide awake, keeping his weary body suspended.
Thud.
Fu Liao jerked awake, thinking his tilting head had bumped against the edge of the couch. After letting out a breath, he suddenly heard a rustling sound outside the room.
He stared toward the doorway, but everything looked as usual.
Maintaining his gaze, he sat straight up.
Fu Liao’s heart skipped a beat, hammering fiercely against his ribs as it rushed headlong to greet this uninvited guest.
In just a momentary trance, the wooden door opened and closed, and the room instantly plunged into darkness.
In the silent gloom, a shallow, breathless inhalation was startlingly eerie.
The rich agarwood seemed to weave a net in the air, trapping Fu Liao so tightly that his chest and abdomen felt painfully constricted, forcing him to speak.
“You’re here.”
Xi Lingjian’s cold tone carried mockery. “So certain that I would come?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Fu Liao lowered his gaze, speaking the truth. “Besides, it’s only the hour of You. If Your Highness hadn’t come, I still would have time to find another way.”
“Arrogant.”
That unhurried, unflappable demeanor, if one didn’t know he was utterly isolated, they would really suspect he had some powerful backing.
To hear such arrogant words spoken from this person’s mouth sounded as if he were simply stating objective facts.
Which only made it all the more irritating.
Did he really think he could treat him like a lamb to the slaughter just because he wore a soft sheepskin?
The submissive figure before him raised a sleeve, turning his head slightly as he couldn’t help coughing twice. A few stray locks of hair tucked behind his ear took the opportunity to flutter wildly beside his lowered eyelids.
Xi Lingjian narrowed his eyes.
He really did look quite easy to bully.
“Why make such a big fuss?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is the Heir Apparent finally scared, wanting to fawn over me?”
“If I wanted to fawn, why go to such elaborate lengths?” Fu Liao took a deep breath, lifting his chin slightly. “I simply wanted to see Your Highness once more.”
The other man was silent for a moment before replying. “If I hadn’t come, your elaborate efforts would have been wasted.”
“Yet Your Highness came after all,” Fu Liao smiled faintly.
Xi Lingjian’s eyelid twitched as he slowly rubbed the thumb ring on his hand.
That was true. He shouldn’t have come.
The moment he heard the news, he understood the man’s true intent was to lure him into another meeting.
He had walked right into the trap set up for him.
A cardinal sin in military strategy.
“I merely happened to hear some rumors. The gossip these past few days has been more or less the same, but if there is something novel, I’m sure everyone will take an interest.”
Fu Liao frowned slightly. “Once rumors spread, they are hard to pull back, but controlling how they are shaped shouldn’t be difficult for Your Highness.”
“Oh?” Xi Lingjian moved an eyebrow, though he showed no sign of actual interest. “What do you want?”
“Cancel tomorrow’s duel,” Fu Liao said, folding his hands. “The Prince of Jing allowed the Heir Apparent to wake, and the Fu family belongs to the New Party. No matter what, the Heir Apparent should show gratitude rather than locking horns with Your Highness, shouldn’t he?”
Xi Lingjian chuckled softly.
“Has the Heir Apparent forgotten why we are having a duel in the first place?”
Fu Liao paused.
Xi Lingjian had already stepped closer, his relaxed expression failing to mask the coldness in his eyes. “Heir Apparent, what are your feelings for Ji Liandu?”
Fu Liao’s pupils constricted sharply.
“I care for Xiao Ji,” he hesitated before speaking softly. “So…”
“Indeed. Especially since you two are childhood friends. That being the case, why should I make peace with you?”
Xi Lingjian let out a mocking sound, though the wind seemed to wash away the stinging edge of it.
Fu Liao was stunned, his thoughts drifting elsewhere ahead of his words.
Isn’t this just jealousy?
“Why not say this in front of Ji Liandu?” he blurted out. “You two are very similar. You know why he always wants to run away, yet you could clearly express these things directly to him.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Fu Liao realized what he had let slip. “I mean…”
Instead, he saw Xi Lingjian step closer still, reaching out to pinch a few strands of black hair resting before Fu Liao’s chest.
“Do you even have self-awareness?” he asked.
Do you know what kind of expression you just wore?
Xi Lingjian’s gaze swept past his collarbone, scrutinizing the glimmers of light reflecting off his hair.
The pretty shimmer was like the reluctant struggle of a setting sun, or perhaps a triumphant candle flame, bouncing softly among the strands of hair.
Just like that mist stubbornly trying to adorn black garments.
No matter how much effort was spent, no matter how soft or pretty, one casual sweep of a hand and it would all vanish.
Who would ever feel grateful?
Fu Liao felt as though he could not catch his breath. The oxygen filling the room refused to enter his lungs, and even breathing became a ragged struggle.
The tall chest was right before him, feeling both like a high wall protecting someone from danger and a cage meant to lock a person away.
After a long pause, Xi Lingjian finally released the pathetic strands of dark hair.
“You still don’t understand your situation.”
He turned and walked away.
“Wait!”
Fu Liao hurriedly reached out, letting out a sharp gasp.
A sharp stab of pain crowded out the words he meant to speak. The injury at his collarbone pulled at his meridians and bones, leaving his vision swimming with white.
Fu Liao felt as though the ringing in his ears drowned out everything else.
Bracing himself against the edge of the round table for fear that Xi Lingjian would just leave, he raised his eyes in a rush, only to collide directly with the ink-black pupils of the man before him.
They were too dark. Even a hint of a highlight looked dim against the backlighting, as if stained over and over by splattered blood until it dried and blackened, losing its original appearance forever.
Realizing that the man had turned back to wait for him to speak, Fu Liao found it hard to believe.
“You…” He panted, unsure if he had actually made a sound. “Did you really kill Lü Chen?”
Xi Lingjian moved his lips, pressing them into a thin line before finally speaking.
“Are you really Fu Liao?”
Dropping those words, he pulled open the door and vanished from sight in an instant.
In his place came a robust middle-aged man rushing toward Fu Liao in a panic. “A-Liao! You’re finally awake!”
Behind him followed a large crowd, their chaotic footsteps making the temples in Fu Liao’s head throb violently.
Fu Liao knew who he was. “Father…”
Fu Pengfu grabbed him by the shoulders, looking him up and down thoroughly. “A-Liao, how do you feel? Are you alright?”
With that, his brow furrowed as he looked around, angrily rapping the head of a nearby servant boy. “Look at you, talking nonsense! Saying the Prince of Jing came, wouldn’t I know if the Prince of Jing came to my estate? Clearly, A-Liao is blessed with good fortune. That Prince of Jing is probably wishing A-Liao were dead!”
“And this Zhichang, how could he still be sleeping!” With that, he looked ready to deliver a kick.
“Ah, Father, he wasn’t lying,” Fu Liao quickly intervened. “Didn’t I wake up?”
Hearing Fu Liao’s words, Fu Pengfu put on a troubled face. “Ah, my little ancestor, you just had to wake up at this time. Tomorrow afternoon you have that duel with the Prince of Jing. Who knows which bastard spread the news; there’s no hiding from it now!”
Fu Liao chuckled dryly. “Father, you said yourself that I am blessed with good fortune, so there must be a way. Besides, don’t I have you?”
Fu Pengfu’s marquis title had been earned through past military achievements; he possessed immense physical strength and a high rank. Though his words were meant as comfort, if worst came to worst, Fu Pengfu might still be able to maneuver through the situation.
The earlier conversation left Fu Liao with a vague feeling that Xi Lingjian didn’t actually want him dead, yet insisted on pushing forward with the duel.
Surely he didn’t think gouging out eyes was just a fun pastime.
“Ah, yes, yes, yes.” Fu Pengfu laughed heartily, puffed up with pride. “Your father is a grand marquis! That Xi Lingjian only dares to bully a few civil officials. Civil officials are useless anyway; they die when they die. Would he really dare move against our family?”
Fu Liao frowned slightly and coughed twice.
Coming back to his senses from his triumph, Fu Pengfu’s expression shifted. “Ah, my little ancestor, even your coughs sound much more energetic than before, hahahaha!”
In a society that valued martial prowess, born into a family of generals, the original owner’s frail constitution was uniquely weak, naturally becoming a sore spot for the original persona.
“Father, I just feel sleepy right now. I’m going to sleep first, and we can talk tomorrow after I wake up.”
Fu Liao dismissed the family, then tested Zhichang’s breathing; the servant was sleeping as heavily as a drunkard.
He really had just passed out. Fu Liao let out a breath.
Next came the time to thoroughly test his hypothesis.
Fu Liao returned to the street. Seeing that it was already dark and shopkeepers were packing up their stalls, he quickened his pace toward the Satin and Silk Pavilion.
Inside the pavilion, most of the candles had been blown out as the proprietress poked a delicate hand out to close the front doors.
“Madam Lü!” Fu Liao called out. The owner of the hand didn’t seem to hear, so Fu Liao called out again, “Madam Lü.”
Only then did the hand pause, neither turning toward the source of the sound nor withdrawing.
“Good, I caught you.”
Fu Liao jogged over, though his weak physique forced him to lean against the wall to catch his breath first. He wanted to speak, but his panting stole the lead.
The proprietress hesitated for a moment. “You’re the young master who came this afternoon. Is there something wrong with the ready-made garments?”
“No, the clothes are fine. I just have some questions I’d like to consult you about.” Fu Liao pointed at himself, wearing the very outfit he had purchased earlier. “I heard that the owner of the Satin and Silk Pavilion is the wife of Official Lü Chen. Is that true?”
The proprietress paused, then replied, “Yes, it is me. Is there something the young master needs?”
Fu Liao shook his head.
“No, you are not Madam Lü,” Fu Liao said. “You are the concubine.”