The So-Called Confession
The entire room froze for a moment at those words. Xiao Han seemed to be in a good mood, smiling as he waved a hand at Xian Fu, who immediately understood and swiftly prepared the table, tea, and snacks.
Yet the young head eunuch couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Weren’t they here to visit Zhuo Fan because he was ill? Why did it feel more like they were here to watch a play…?
Keeping his eyes down and his mind focused, Xian Fu stood obediently behind Xiao Han. After all, it wasn’t his place to worry about such matters.
“Bring them in,” Xiao Han clapped his hands lightly twice, and the guards at the door responded by bringing in two boxes. One, wrapped in red silk, contained a century-old ginseng, while the other was filled with Zhuo Fan’s favorite snacks.
“This ginseng is a tribute from Gaobang, and there are only two of them. And these are all your favorites. I specifically ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare them this morning. Seeing you so thin makes my heart ache. Come, try them and see if they suit your taste?”
Zhuo Fan turned his face away stiffly, “Your Majesty, I am overwhelmed. I cannot accept such favor from you…”
Of course, Xiao Han knew Zhuo Fan wouldn’t accept it. Before Zhuo Fan could finish speaking, Xiao Han cheerfully told Xian Fu, “Take the ginseng back, leave the snacks for him to eat.”
Zhuo Fan: “…”
Xian Fu nodded with admiration. What a frugal emperor! If it were any other master, they would rather throw it on the ground than take it back.
Zhuo Fan’s knees seemed to ache, and he stumbled, falling to the ground. Xiao Han, who was prepared, rushed forward in a flash, catching him and holding his frail shoulders, looking at him with “concern”. “The floor is so cold, and it’s freezing outside. You’re still unwell. Why don’t you take care of yourself?”
Before Zhuo Fan could respond, Xiao Han muttered with a frown, “Look, there’s not even a door in your room!”
The Vice Minister of Rites, struggling in the emperor’s embrace, was momentarily at a loss, “…That seems to be because Your Majesty ordered it to be removed!”
Xiao Han selectively ignored that remark and continued with deep affection, “It was my fault last night. I shouldn’t have neglected you. Come back to the palace with me, and I’ll make it up to you.”
Recalling those painful words from before, Zhuo Fan pushed him away with all his might, speaking weakly, “Your Majesty, please forgive my rudeness. Even the cats and dogs you keep have tempers! Moreover, I, Zhuo Fan, am a man of dignity. I’ve thought it through and seen clearly after what you said yesterday. I won’t foolishly harbor any more illusions! It’s freezing, and my humble abode is simple. Your Majesty should return to the palace early, lest Her Majesty the Empress accuses me of bewitching you and bringing disaster to the nation. I cannot bear such accusations!”
The northern wind howled outside, tousling Zhuo Fan’s hair. His pale face flushed slightly with the rush of blood.
He struggled to finish his words, his emotions running high, his chest heaving, and his eyes slightly red, stubbornly glaring at the emperor. He looked fragile yet determined, truly a sight to evoke tears and heartache.
The usually stern and cold emperor, upon hearing Zhuo Fan’s reproach, surprisingly showed a look of genuine remorse.
Xiao Han’s apology was sincere, so he earnestly said, “There are doors in my palace.”
“…”
The room, filled with a faint literary melancholy, suddenly plunged into an awkward silence.
Zhuo Fan made a strange “gurgling” sound in his throat, perhaps choking on his own saliva.
Meanwhile, Prince of Wen, who was sitting and sipping tea, accidentally sprayed the tea back into his cup. Fortunately, he managed to control the noise, and the emperor didn’t notice. Only the quick-witted Xian Fu immediately replaced his cup.
“Ahem, what I mean is,” Xiao Han took a moment to gather his emotions before speaking slowly, “I’m well aware of what the empress has been doing behind the scenes. Rest assured, those who have maliciously slandered you will be dealt with. As long as you are willing to return to the palace with me, I promise to favor you alone. How can those ordinary women compare to you?”
The conversation finally veered back onto the right track. Zhuo Fan sighed and said softly, “Your Majesty, I find it hard to believe your words. Please return.”
“Oh, alright then.” Xiao Han shrugged, releasing Zhuo Fan without a hint of reluctance, and stood up to return to his seat.
“…”
Zhuo Fan was still in a daze, not quite processing what had happened. Fortunately, Prince of Wen naturally interjected, “Minister Zhuo is still recovering from a cold and should rest well. Since he doesn’t wish to enter the palace, he can recuperate at home. Your Majesty has already visited, so perhaps it’s best to return to the palace. The affairs of the court are pressing.”
Though Xiao Han had already begun to miss the warm fires and plush blankets of Changqing Hall, he still had to finish his lines. Fortunately, he only had one line left, and the rest were just “jealousy at seeing Prince of Wen and Zhuo Fan close”, “secretly angry”, “planning to forcibly bring him back to the palace”, and other fleeting thoughts.
Thus, thinking it was better to leave early, Xiao Han walked out of the room, speaking indifferently as he went, “Prince of Wen, Zhuo Fan is mine. You’d best keep your distance. Zhuo Fan, I said I’d make it up to you, and I will.”
By the time he finished speaking, he was already far away, making it questionable whether the two inside could even hear him. It was as if he were speaking to the air.
He walked along the corridor to a corner, where a paper window was set into the wall. Xiao Han sighed inwardly. Yesterday, the script had Zhuo Fan eavesdropping for a long time, and today it was his turn.
Was the next scene going to be a live-action romantic drama?
A heartbroken and emotionally empty protagonist half-heartedly protesting while being overwhelmed by the passionate advances of the devoted suitor, ending up “reluctantly” and “powerlessly” swept into bed?
Afterward, would there be a scene of self-destruction, even life-threatening despair, seeking sympathy, while the suitor feels “deeply guilty but not regretting the forceful act”, vowing to win the protagonist over from the main love interest?
And then the protagonist would internally struggle, thinking of the scoundrel, but physically “unable to resist” the devoted suitor’s advances, and even develop the “this person is just deeply in love with me and pitiful, though I don’t love him, I can’t blame him” kind of logic?
Xiao Han maliciously speculated, given the script’s usual style.
Damn it, when I mess with your feelings, it’s playing with your emotions and hurting your pride, turning my back on you. But when the devoted suitor makes a move, it’s understandable and pitiable?
Being a scoundrel isn’t easy!
Xiao Han dismissed his attendants, poking a hole in the paper window with a sullen face. After all, it was a free romantic drama, and it would be a waste not to watch.
Inside, the two were unaware of the emperor’s sneaky behavior. At that moment, Zhuo Fan sat on the bed with his back to the emperor, his head hung low, while Prince of Wen stood by the bed, speaking slowly in a comforting manner, “I shouldn’t disturb your rest, but seeing you so sad and in pain, I couldn’t rest easy.”
“Your concern, Your Highness, is truly overwhelming. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such attention from you,” Zhuo Fan looked up, noticing Prince of Wen’s distant expression, and asked with concern, “Your Highness, are you alright?”
“Ah, I just remembered the first time I met you,” Prince of Wen sighed deeply, his tone filled with melancholy.
Zhuo Fan was taken aback, “Wasn’t it during the morning court?”
Shaking his head, Prince of Wen sighed again, “It seems you’ve forgotten. No matter, as long as I remember.”
Seeing Zhuo Fan’s confusion, Wen Muyan paused for a long time, hesitating before finally speaking in a tone filled with reminiscence and nostalgia, “I wasn’t my father’s only son. I once had a half-brother. He wasn’t the legitimate heir, but his mother was the daughter of a high-ranking official. Though my mother was the princess consort, her family had fallen on hard times and wasn’t as powerful as my stepmother’s. So, they both saw me as a thorn in their side, plotting to kill me so that my brother could inherit the title of Prince of Wen.”
“I remember that year, my father was ordered to go on a mission beyond the borders, and my mother went with him. I stayed at the palace because I was ill and couldn’t travel. My stepmother took the opportunity to try to harm me. Fortunately, my mother’s guards protected me with their lives, allowing me to escape. I was injured and fled for three days and nights, ending up in a dilapidated temple, thirsty and hungry, with nowhere to go. And there, in that temple, was someone seeking shelter from the rain…”
“Ah! So that person was—” Zhuo Fan suddenly remembered that years ago, he had indeed saved a dying young man in a temple. At the time, the man’s face was covered in blood, mud, and wet hair, making him unrecognizable. He never expected that this person was the same as the elegant Prince of Wen before him.
Wen Muyan nodded with a smile and continued, “Just when I thought I wouldn’t survive, you gave me your water and food, and found a doctor to treat my wounds. If not for you, I might have died before my loyal guards could reach me. You saved my life, and from that day on, I’ve kept you in my heart.”
“All these years, I’ve been searching for you, but couldn’t find you until I saw you in court that day. Do you know how overjoyed I was?”
As he spoke, Prince of Wen gently touched Zhuo Fan’s cheek, speaking with emotion, “You appeared when I was most helpless, most desperate, and most in pain, giving me the will to live and hope. It was then that I realized I had already…”
At this point, Wen Muyan suddenly paused as if the recording had skipped, his face turning pale. He pressed his hand to his chest before continuing, “…already fallen deeply in love with you.”
Zhuo Fan stared wide-eyed, his face flushed, unsure of what to say.
Outside the window, Xiao Han’s mouth twitched, a cold smile forming. Just a bit of food and water, and you’re hung up on it? Why not think about those guards who lost their lives for you?
He couldn’t stand the overly sentimental tone any longer, goosebumps rising all over. He regretted eating too many snacks earlier, now feeling the acid in his stomach.
Meanwhile, Wen Muyan continued his heartfelt confession, “I thought I was destined to pass by you in this life, to regret it forever. Who would have thought fate would bring us together again? This time, I won’t let you disappear from my life…”
Whether it was Xiao Han’s imagination or not, Wen Muyan’s face seemed even paler, his expression somewhat stiff.
“…Without you, my life would be so dull and uninteresting. Even if the whole world were laid before me, it wouldn’t compare to your…”
“Your every smile…”
“Every smile and…”
Wen Muyan seemed to struggle more and more with his words, and as he spoke, he suddenly vomited…
He vomited…
Vomited…
…
“Your Highness, what’s wrong?!” Zhuo Fan was startled, watching in horror as the Prince of Wen, who had been pouring out his heart moments ago, suddenly began foaming at the mouth, nearly scaring him witless.
Outside, Xiao Han was equally shocked. Was he so disgusted he threw up?
Then Wen Muyan quickly recovered, rinsing his mouth with tea and wiping his face before awkwardly smiling at Zhuo Fan, “Sorry, I must have eaten something bad, just a bit of nausea. You get used to it after a while.”
“Oh, as long as you’re alright, Your Highness.” Zhuo Fan relaxed, his expression once again filled with desolation and mockery, lowering his eyes as he spoke softly, “…It’s not that I don’t understand your feelings, but now I’m beyond grief, truly unable to think about such disappointing things…”
From Xiao Han’s perspective, he could only see Wen Muyan’s face, and he swore he wasn’t seeing things. He clearly saw Wen Muyan roll his eyes where Zhuo Fan couldn’t see!
Yet his voice grew even softer as he said, “If you can’t think about it, then don’t. Rest assured, I will never betray you like that person.”
With that, Wen Muyan, his face twisted, placed his hand on Zhuo Fan’s black hair. The latter flinched, trying awkwardly to pull away, but Wen Muyan firmly held his shoulders, leaning in as if to kiss him.
“Your Highness, you mustn’t! Your Highness, please let me go—mm… no…”
Though Zhuo Fan’s words were filled with resistance, his hands pushed as if embroidering, easily subdued by Wen Muyan. The emperor, lying on the window sill with one eye to the hole, watched with great interest, not forgetting to internally criticize. Wen Muyan, who was usually so weak, suddenly seemed like a powerhouse? Zhuo Fan, who could usually exhaust Wen Muyan just with his weight, now seemed so weak?
In no time, Zhuo Fan’s clothes were pulled open by the Prince of Wen, leaving him helplessly pinned to the bed, reduced to pitiful gasps.