It was Murong Jue, who had sneaked into the imperial palace dressed in eunuch attire to approach Wenchuzhu.
Wenchuzhu was sent into a fit of violent coughing by the choking water, and Murong Jue hurriedly patted his back to help soothe his breathing.
A pair of affectionate peach-blossom eyes gazed at Wenchuzhu with heartbreak: “It is all this minister’s fault. On that day, I left the Emperor in a fit of anger, and now I’ve caused the Emperor to choke on his water.”
Wenchuzhu shoved him away abruptly, cast a quick glance toward the door, and suppressing his urge to cough, lowered his voice to ask Murong Jue, “Why have you come here? It is very dangerous here.”
Murong Jue replied, “This minister was worried about the Emperor, so I couldn’t help but come.” He immediately added, “Your Majesty need not worry, this minister will certainly be safe.”
The violent coughing left Wenchuzhu’s eyes swimming with a hazy layer of moisture, his slightly pale cheeks flushed with a faint tender pink. This sickly beauty tugged tightly at the heartstrings, making one want to protect him regardless of the cost.
Murong Jue let out a helpless sigh: “This minister loves the Emperor, and love means unconditionally sacrificing and paying for the one in your heart, wishing only to bring him happiness and joy. Moreover, my family has always single-mindedly supported the imperial authority.”
Wenchuzhu suddenly raised his eyes to look at Murong Jue: “You plan to help me then?”
Murong Jue raised an eyebrow: “I will go through fire and water without hesitation.”
Wenchuzhu said, “Thank you.” Hesitating for a moment, he added, “Once the matter succeeds, I will grant you a promotion and a fortune.”
Murong Jue lifted his gaze to look at the ceiling beams, evidently holding no interest in what Wenchuzhu was offering.
Nor did he wish to pressure Wenchuzhu into giving anything, so he changed the subject: “When Xie Huai holds his birthday banquet in the palace, palace security will inevitably be lax. This minister will lead troops to charge in, giving him a birthday surprise from the Emperor to eliminate him.”
Wenchuzhu had also intended to kill Xie Huai on his birthday once Murong Jue agreed to help him.
Afterward, the two discussed the details of assassinating Xie Huai.
Murong Jue frowned slightly, as if pondering something.
Seeing this, Wenchuzhu asked, “What are you thinking? Is something inappropriate?”
Murong Jue shook his head: “This minister is simply curious. Given how meticulous and decisive Xie Huai is in his actions, why didn’t he kill the Emperor back then after seizing power?”
There were some matters Wenchuzhu did not wish to dwell on before he fully figured them out: “Perhaps I am more obedient and haven’t provoked him!”
Hearing his reply, Murong Jue fell into deep thought for a moment before arching his alluring peach-blossom eyes into a seductive, wicked smile, nodding as he said, “Ah, true. Such an obedient and exquisite darling of an Emperor, if it were me, naturally I wouldn’t bear to kill you either. I’d want nothing more than to tuck you against my body, strictly guarding against anyone else casting covetous glances.”
He was always lacking any sense of propriety. Accustomed to Murong Jue’s temperament, Wenchuzhu chose not to argue with him.
He lowered his dark eyelashes, hiding the expression in his eyes: “He does not like me; he has always loathed and cast me aside. Do not talk nonsense.”
Back then in the imperial study, he had inadvertently sat on the jade chair where Xie Huai usually sat, only for Xie Huai to replace it with a brand-new chair the very next day.
“Cough, cough, cough…” Wenchuzhu began to cough.
Murong Jue hurriedly poured a cup of water for Wenchuzhu.
Wenchuzhu took it and drank half the cup, suppressing the cough. He parted his lips to tell Murong Jue to leave early, but when he saw the direction of Murong Jue’s gaze toward the door, he sensed something was amiss and gently pressed his lips shut.
Having spent years campaigning on battlefields, Murong Jue’s hearing had been honed to be extraordinary and exceptionally sharp.
At this moment, Murong Jue’s sword-like brows furrowed tightly, his eyes flashing with a biting, frigid light.
This was the first time Wenchuzhu had ever seen Murong Jue look so serious and grave. Seemingly guessing what had happened, his gaze turned toward the direction of the palace hall doors, though he pulled it back almost instantaneously.
He raised his hand, tugging at the sleeve of Murong Jue’s robe while pointing his other hand underneath the bed. The meaning was already transparently clear.