“It’s nothing.” Shi Yue kept his probing gaze steady and suppressed the swirling thoughts in his mind.
Though calm on the surface, his hands had lost all their composure.
Pei Xuan’s dark, abyss-like eyes stared fixedly at the youth before him, brimming with dark and obscure emotions.
Shi Yue felt his spine turn cold under that intense gaze, forcing himself not to look back at him. He focused solely on the lower half of Pei Xuan’s face as he meticulously wiped away the dust.
However, Shi Yue couldn’t keep going. He was naturally a pampered young master himself, and under the weight of that kind of direct stare, he could no longer keep up the act.
“Alright then.” Shi Yue stuffed the handkerchief back onto Pei Xuan. “You are a free person now. Go wherever you wish, and try not to get caught again.”
Though Shi Yue knew saying this was as good as saying nothing—since he had managed to rise to the position of Grand Chancellor in his past life, someone must have been supporting him in the shadows, and he had heard that the Minister of War had a rather close relationship with him, often sitting face-to-face in quiet pavilions during the days Shi Yue spent at Pei Xuan’s residence—
His current fallen state did not mean he would remain fallen in the future.
Getting on good terms with him now was far better than clashing swords later.
Standing nearby and listening to this, Song Huaian was utterly shocked. “What? Brother Shi, has your brain been kicked by a donkey? You spent three thousand pure taels just to do a good deed? I thought you were bringing him home as a servant, but you’re just letting him walk away like that?”
Hearing this, Pei Xuan also raised his gaze to look at him with obscure complexity, concluding that this well-bred young master probably had something wrong with his head.
He had originally expected to jump from one fire pit into another, arriving with hidden motives, yet he never imagined this person was purely doing a good deed.
Regardless, it was wonderful to run into such a money-rich little fool; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been redeemed so easily.
Pei Xuan let out a low couple of coughs, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked at Shi Yue. “The young master is truly kind-hearted, throwing down three thousand taels just to redeem me.”
Shi Yue was unbothered by their teasing. He would simply treat it as doing a good deed, especially since Pei Xuan had genuinely preserved his tiny life in their previous life.
The Jingyi Emperor had originally intended to send him straight to the execution grounds alongside the rest; after all, sparing a malignant threat who might one day turn around and bite back was far too dangerous.
Yet Pei Xuan had openly objected in the grand hall:
“I humbly implore Your Majesty to think twice.”
“For what reason?”
Pei Xuan lowered his head, cupping his hands in salute, his steady voice echoing through the grand hall:
“Replying to Your Majesty, the case of the Marquis of Anding has reached its conclusion, but sparing the life of a single son can showcase Your Majesty’s benevolence, letting the entire world know of the Emperor’s boundless grace. Furthermore, leaving a surviving son in the world serves as a form of deterrence to the Marquis of Anding’s former subordinates and other vassal officials. It is a prudent measure for the imperial court; I trust Your Majesty will make a sagely decision.”
In the end, the Jingyi Emperor heeded Pei Xuan’s advice and spared his life.
However, Shi Yue had never witnessed any of this firsthand; he had only heard about it from the servants back at the estate.
When Shi Yue first heard it, he never expected Pei Xuan would openly contradict the Emperor in the grand hall for his sake.
Yet in the end, he had still died.
“The young master is spacing out again.”
Pei Xuan looked at the youth before him.
He couldn’t even remember how many times this person had stared blankly at him; those peach-blossom eyes always seemed to be looking through him to gaze upon someone else.
Stumbling right into those deep, fathomless eyes, Shi Yue hurriedly averted his gaze, terrified that those sharp, discerning eyes might notice something amiss.
Shi Yue stood up, casually unhooked the jade pendant he had worn that day, and tossed it straight into Pei Xuan’s lap. “Pawn it, and use the money to buy medicine and treat your injuries.”
This was the absolute most he could do. Everything else would depend entirely on himself.
Without another word, Shi Yue joined Song Huaian, stepped out of the beast-fighting arena, and boarded their carriage.
“Huaian, I will return those three thousand taels of silver to you promptly,” Shi Yue said.
“A minor matter.” Song Huaian waved his hand offhand.
Watching his wealthy, extravagant demeanor, Shi Yue couldn’t suppress a sigh—how could someone be this wealthy?
Though his own days were spent draped in fine silks and eating delicacies, compared to Young Master Song, he fell far behind.
“Speaking of which, why on earth did you want to save Shuang Jiang?”
“He looks very much like A’Yao,” Shi Yue answered truthfully.
“You mean that companion of yours who spent a year recuperating and living with you on Mount Qingluan?” Song Huaian mused aloud. “Well, since he looks so similar, could it be possible that Shuang Jiang is him?”
Shi Yue hadn’t specifically investigated him because he had subconsciously assumed Pei Xuan and A’Yao were two completely different individuals.
The differences in their personalities were simply too vast. Furthermore, if Pei Xuan truly was A’Yao, why wouldn’t he recognize him?
Besides, A’Yao was not a demon, whereas Pei Xuan clearly was even though he still didn’t know what kind of demon he actually was…
Still, in his past life Shi Yue never had the time to investigate; now that he had been reborn, he intended to look into all of these matters thoroughly.
Upon returning home, Shi Yue summoned Stone.
“Second Young Master.”
“Help me investigate someone, Shuang Jiang from the beast-fighting arena.”
“The beast-fighting arena?” Stone had recently heard about this sensationally popular demon as well, and looked over in confusion. “Why is the Second Young Master looking into a demon? Did he offend you?”
Shi Yue shook his head. “Not at all, I’m simply a bit curious about him.”
Stone could only nod. “This subordinate will handle it right away.”
Huaiyue was a season exceedingly rich in rainfall. Within the chilly evening dusk, a pattering, drizzling rain carrying wisps of lingering coolness dripped down from the slate-gray eaves.
The consecutive days of rain left the entire capital seemingly shrouded in a layer of mist, giving birth to a sense of absurd melancholy where “the threads are cut yet tangled still.”
Trapped at home by the rain, Shi Yue spent his leisure time pestering Shi Yuan to accompany him in physical training.
“A’yue, wasn’t it you who used to find swordplay and martial arts the most annoying?” Shi Yuan said as he guided his movements.
Standing in a horse stance, Shi Yue had a thin layer of sweat slicked across his fair forehead. “My father and elder brother are both so formidable in martial arts; if I’m too weak, I’ll end up embarrassing you both.”
Shi Yuan smiled helplessly. “You’ve had a frail constitution since childhood; what is there to be ashamed of? As long as you stay healthy, that’s enough.”
Shi Yue felt touched in his heart, but he remained utterly determined to train himself. Otherwise, should any danger arise in the future, he wouldn’t even be able to run away and would simply drag everyone down as an incompetent burden.
“Fine then.” Shi Yuan stopped trying to dissuade him, though he remained mindful of Shi Yue’s physical limits and treated him with utmost gentleness. “Just keep it moderate every day and take it step by step, otherwise your body won’t be able to handle the strain.”
Even with those words, Shi Yuan had still overestimated Shi Yue’s physical endurance.
By the time he finished a few simple basic physical conditioning routines, Shi Yue was already panting and entirely spent.
Yet he stubbornly gritted his teeth and pushed through. When he finally made it back to his own chambers, his face was completely drained of color.
Looking at his sweat-slicked reflection in the mirror, Shi Yue couldn’t help spitting out a self-deprecating verdict: Weakling.
He stepped into the wooden bathing barrel Stone had already prepared, intending to soak and relax his aching muscles.
Just then, Stone’s voice rang out from outside the folding screen: “Second Young Master?”
“What is it?”
“The guards at the main gate of the manor just said that someone collapsed outside the estate, asking if we need to move him away. When I went over to check, I found out it was that Shuang Jiang you told me to look into. Not daring to act rashly, I came specifically to ask what the Young Master would like to do.”
Collapsed?
Why did he collapse? Could it be his injuries were too severe?
With a splash, Shi Yue stood up straight from the bathing barrel, hastily threw on some clothes, and walked out.
“Take me to see.”
Outside the Marquis of Anding’s estate.
Looking at Pei Xuan, who was leaning against the corner of the wall with blurred consciousness, Shi Yue furrowed his brow.
The wounds on his face looked slightly healed, and overall he looked much cleaner than he had back at the beast-fighting arena, making his striking, handsome features all the more distinct.
Right now, he was curled up entirely against the corner, his complexion flushed with a strange, unnatural heat while his hand tightly clutched the jade pendant Shi Yue had given him earlier.
Shi Yue tapped his face with his hand. “Hey, wake up.”
Pei Xuan’s eyes were tightly shut, his brows knitted tightly together in an expression of discomfort.
“I must really owe you in a past life…”
Shi Yue muttered a quiet curse under his breath.
He then ordered the servants to carry him through the back door into his own side hall, lowering his voice as they hoisted him up: “Keep your movements quiet. If my dad finds out, we’re done for.”
Shi Wenjing did not harbor hostility toward the demon race, but he simply believed that humans and demons belonged to separate worlds and should never be casually entangled. He held an extreme aversion toward those who looked down on demons yet still relied on them.
Moreover, Pei Xuan’s identity was unusual; it was entirely possible someone in the imperial court was connected to him. For now, it was best not to let his father discover his existence.
Shi Yue kept glancing around nervously, terrified that his father might suddenly pop out from some corner.
The servants lightened their footsteps dramatically, finally managing to carry Pei Xuan safely into the side hall.
“Go fetch a physician for me do it quietly, bring them in through the back gate, and don’t let my father find out.”
“This subordinate understands.”
The servant cupped his fists in salute and scurried off to execute the task.
This side chamber was located very close to his own quarters while remaining relatively secluded and humble; Shi Wenjing shouldn’t have any reason to come wandering over here.
Looking at the dying Pei Xuan on the bed, Shi Yue noted that the feature least resembling A’Yao was his eyes.
A’Yao would never look at people with such a terrifying gaze; his eyes were always gentle.
Pei Xuan, however, was different. His gaze was usually cold and aloof, carrying an air of detachment from everything around him, yet behind closed doors he exhibited an entirely ruthless and paranoid streak.
Yet when Pei Xuan closed his eyes and lay quietly upon the bed, that harsh ruthlessness faded away significantly.
He looked much more like A’Yao then.
Shi Yue placed his hand against his forehead and was startled by the scorching body temperature.
Panic flickered through him; the consequence of an unyielding high fever was either losing one’s wits or losing one’s life, especially with all the injuries Pei Xuan was already carrying.
Shi Yue slapped Pei Xuan’s face with a bit of force, trying to jolt him awake.
“Hey! Pei Xuan!”
Before long, Pei Xuan’s cheeks flushed even brighter partly from the flush of the high fever, and partly from being slapped by Shi Yue.
Perhaps because the force was sufficient, Pei Xuan genuinely snapped back to consciousness.
“It’s you.” Pei Xuan’s voice was low and hoarse, and he immediately attempted to sit up as soon as he spoke.
Shi Yue hastily pushed him back down.
“Don’t move. Move again and you’re dead. Didn’t you realize your body is burning like a furnace?”
Shi Yue fetched a cup of tea and handed it to him. “Drink it.”
Pei Xuan watched him with guarded suspicion.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not going to harm you; I’m saving you, understand?” Shi Yue muttered, shoving the teacup straight into his hand.
Pei Xuan looked at the cup in his hands, let out a low chuckle upon hearing this, and murmured, “The young master naturally wouldn’t harm me.”
With that, he tilted his head back and drank it down. The refreshing water slid across his chest, making him feel considerably more comfortable.
“Tell me, why did you come to the Marquis of Anding’s estate?” Shi Yue stood beside the bed, looking down at him from above as he demanded answers.
Pei Xuan lowered his gaze, clutching the teacup, and remained tight-lipped without a word.
“Hey! Pei Xuan, speak.”
Pei Xuan cast a gaze as slithering and cold as a viper, filled with intense scrutiny, as he stared straight at Shi Yue. “How do you know my name is Pei Xuan?”