SGT CH138: My Shadow Guard Actually Sought Death

◎ Shadow One curled up under the imperial desk, head tilted in his direction ◎

After morning court, Mousse went to the Imperial Study as usual.

As soon as he entered, he saw Shadow One kneeling on the floor, a soft black cushion under his knees.

Mousse subconsciously glanced at the light screen.

Fortunately, the Scum Gong Value didn’t rise.

Mousse wasn’t sure if he should be angry or not.

He told Shadow One to rest in the Imperial Study, so this was his way of resting?

Fortunately, the eunuchs in the palace were all shrewd individuals who knew best how to interpret their superiors’ wishes; at least they arranged a soft cushion for him.

Although Shadow One had followed him for many years, he was far less adept than these palace servants at observing expressions and assessing situations.

Mousse walked over with light steps.

Shadow One’s internal energy was sealed, so he didn’t notice his arrival.

At this moment, he was looking down and staring at a corner of his robe in a daze.

He saw Shadow One using his fingers to carefully smooth out the wrinkles on the corner of the robe, his movements full of cherishment.

A strange feeling rose in Mousse’s heart.

Shadow One didn’t have his own clothes.

The black clothes he wore when entering the palace were full of blood stains and mud, torn beyond recognition, and had long been disposed of.

The clothes Shadow One was wearing now were the inner garments Mousse had changed out of this morning.

Just a set of inner garments barely covering his body made him cherish them so much.

For the past year, Shadow One had knelt naked in his hall, humiliated by him, without any dignity to speak of…

A trace of sour emotion rose in Mousse’s heart, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say.

At this time, Shadow One noticed his arrival.

He bowed down.

His forehead rested silently on the back of his hand, motionless.

“Get up.”

Mousse said in a low voice: “Go to the couch.”

After speaking, he added: “You are not allowed to kneel anymore in the future.”

There was a bit of confusion in Shadow One’s eyes; he didn’t quite understand the meaning of the last sentence.

But he understood the first part.

Shadow One got up and went to the couch behind the imperial desk.

When Mousse was a prince, he couldn’t relax for a moment; a slight slackening might cost him his life.

After taking the throne, he loved to slack off even more.

He placed a couch behind the imperial desk, covered with silk and satin, the bedding soft and light.

Often while reading memorials, he would lean back and lie down.

Shadow One came to the couch and was about to lie on his stomach.

The Emperor stopped him.

“Lie flat.”

With such heavy injuries on his front, how could he sleep on his stomach?

Shadow One lay flat as ordered. Feeling the Emperor approaching, his hands nervously grasped the sash of his clothes.

The Emperor sat on the edge of the couch, reached out to pull the soft quilt from the side, and covered him.

Then he picked up a memorial from the imperial desk and started reviewing it.

Shadow One’s thoughts froze, staring blankly with open eyes.

Holding the memorial, Mousse turned his head to glance at him and urged:

“What are you looking at? Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

Didn’t sleep all night, eyes full of bloodshot veins.

Given time to catch up on sleep, yet staring blankly and not sleeping, what is he thinking?

Shadow One didn’t understand why, but under the Emperor’s command, he obediently closed his eyes and lay flat without moving.

Only the fingers holding the sash under the quilt unconsciously tightened and loosened, loosened and tightened.

Mousse flipped through memorials for a while.

Probably because he seriously reviewed more than a dozen memorials yesterday, the number of memorials today obviously increased, and each one was much thicker, full of long-winded essays.

Even with Mousse’s ability of photographic memory, he got a headache from these lengthy documents.

All large paragraphs of nonsense.

It made Mousse want to drag the people who wrote the memorials out and give them twenty strokes of the plank.

Decided then, for every extra sentence of nonsense in the future, ten strokes of the plank.

Mousse threw the memorial in his hand aside, preparing to start making an example of him to warn others.

Just as he was about to call someone to arrest the person from this unlucky guy’s manor, he remembered something, turned his head to look at Shadow One lying behind him, and silenced himself.

Shadow One closed his eyes, lying perfectly straight, not even a single eyelash out of place.

But Mousse just inexplicably felt he was awake, not sleeping at all.

Couldn’t say why, probably intuition.

Mousse glanced at the soft quilt on him and said in a not-so-loud voice:

“The quilt seems a bit thick, are you hot?”

“No, not hot.”

Mousse: “…”

Really not sleeping.

Clearly has dark circles under his eyes, extremely tired, why force himself not to sleep?

Unwilling to sleep? Or can’t sleep?

Recalling the past, as long as Shadow One lay on the bed, lying beside him, even if he fell asleep, he slept extremely lightly; a little noise would wake him up.

This was the instinct of a shadow guard.

To make him put down everything and sleep peacefully, he must completely separate from the identity of a shadow guard.

Mousse recalled the time Shadow One slept most soundly in the past, his gaze slightly heavy.

He didn’t want to do this.

But Shadow One forcing himself not to sleep would bring a great burden to his mind and body, and was also detrimental to his injury recovery.

Among the tasks given by the light screen, there was one for treating him.

Mousse weighed for a moment and said:

“Since you can’t sleep with a bed provided, then don’t sleep on the bed. Get up, bring the soft cushion over here.”

Shadow One got up as ordered, gently lifted the quilt on him, got off the couch quietly, picked up the soft cushion on the distant floor, and brought it to the front of the imperial desk.

Mousse tapped the ground lightly with his foot wearing brocade boots, looked down, and signaled Shadow One to put down the soft cushion.

Shadow One squatted and placed the soft cushion under the imperial desk, by His Majesty’s legs.

“Sleep,” Mousse sighed softly.

Shadow One immediately crawled under the imperial desk, curled up, and lay down by His Majesty’s legs.

After a while, Mousse looked down.

Shadow One rested his head on the soft cushion, body curled up lying on his side, head tilted towards Mousse’s heels, eyes quietly closed, chest rising and falling slowly, breathing long and steady.

He fell asleep.

“…”

Mousse withdrew his gaze, his eyes inexplicably a bit sore.

[???]

[Ah? No? You just let him sleep here?]

[Evil feudalism, the poor shadow guard is so seriously injured, yet doesn’t even have a bed.]

[This isn’t a shadow guard anymore, it’s raising a dog.]

[Doesn’t this add Scum Gong Value?]

[I’m done, the little cake in this world really can’t be rehabilitated, bury him.]

Mousse remained silent.

If the Scum Gong Value rises, let it rise.

Wait for Shadow One to wake up, then think of a way to rehabilitate.

If it rises too much at once and reaches the upper limit…

Actually, there’s nothing to fear about death.

Wait until he goes to the underworld, then beat the Second Prince to death.

What kind of thing is he, snatching the shadow guard from him.

[Scum Gong Value -2]

[Current Scum Gong Value: 90]

[Ah?]

[Ah???]

[Stupid system, did you make a mistake? It’s adding Scum Gong Value, not subtracting!]

Seeing the notification on the light screen, Mousse was also a bit surprised.

According to the rule that the light screen doesn’t allow him to abuse Shadow One, the Scum Gong Value should rise; how could it decrease?

While puzzled, he felt something lightly pressing against the top of his shoe.

Mousse was slightly stunned, looked down.

Only to see Shadow One closer to him, forehead resting on the top of his shoe, rubbing against it with minimal movement.

…

For the first time, Mousse sat properly in front of the imperial desk for so long.

Didn’t slump on the couch, nor lay sprawled out.

After seriously reading the memorials one by one, he was even bored enough to pick out the ones with extra nonsense and separate them into a pile.

Preparing to drag them out one by one tomorrow to be beaten with planks.

Until the sunset dyed the sky outside red, Shadow One was still sleeping.

His sleep was really deep.

Like he hadn’t slept well for many days.

Thinking that Shadow One only drank a bowl of porridge today, fearing his body couldn’t take it, Mousse still moved his leg, wanting to wake him up.

As soon as he moved, Mousse realized something was wrong.

Leg… numb.

Damn.

Mousse grimaced in pain, but upon discovering Shadow One’s eyelashes trembling as he woke up, he immediately adjusted his expression, pretending nothing happened.

Shadow One slowly opened his eyes, still a bit confused.

His gaze gradually focused on the brocade boots embroidered with dragon patterns in front of him.

His line of sight slowly moved up along the brocade boots, tentatively looking up.

Holding the memorials he had long finished reading, Mousse kept a straight face and said:

“Since you’re awake, get up.”

Hearing this, Shadow One moved his body, slowly withdrawing from under the imperial desk, still with some reluctance in his eyes.

Only when Shadow One stood up did Mousse start to move his legs and feet slightly.

Hiss, really painful.

Mousse estimated it would take him a while to recover, but he didn’t want Shadow One to see it.

Thinking of a reason to send Shadow One away.

Shadow One suddenly looked up and glanced out the window.

In the next instant, a dark shadow landed in the room.

The comer knelt on the ground with head lowered, holding a black cloth bag stained with mud in both hands.

Shadow One’s gaze fell on the cloth bag, the light in his eyes changed, but he didn’t move, continuing to stand quietly by the imperial desk.

Mousse also saw the cloth bag and felt it looked familiar.

Then remembering something, he glanced at Shadow One standing nearby from the corner of his eye.

This was Shadow One’s thing.

Something he took out of the palace, but disappeared from him.

He asked Shadow Two and Shadow Three to investigate Shadow One’s affairs.

Now, the investigation results were out.

Mousse wanted to get up, but as soon as he moved, he realized his leg was still numb, so he silently sat back.

Ordered Shadow One beside him:

“Go, bring the thing over.”

Shadow One stepped forward, took the cloth bag held by the person on the ground.

Quietly wiped off the mud on it with his fingers, then turned and delivered it to the Emperor’s imperial desk, and opened it.

Mousse saw the contents inside.

Two bottles of medicine, a stack of banknotes, a few silver ingots, and a household registration identity document.

Everything was there.

Mousse picked up the medicine bottle.

The feeling in his hand told him the contents were still there, never touched at all.

“Speak, what happened.”

Mousse ignored Shadow One standing beside him and looked at Shadow Two kneeling on the distant ground.

Shadow Two lowered his head and answered: “Replying to Master, after the former Commander left the palace, he stood in front of the palace gate for three shichen (6 hours). Before the palace gate was locked, he was driven away by the gate guards.”

“Subsequently, the former Commander wandered the streets for half the night, undiscovered by patrolling guards or night watchmen.

“When the city gate opened at the fifth watch, the former Commander left the city, traveled west all the way… to the mass grave.”

Mousse: “…”

He could never have imagined that Shadow One went to the mass grave by himself.

Even hearing this, Mousse still didn’t believe it, thinking there were other hidden details, and pressed:

“And then?”

Shadow Two was silent for a while, supplementing based on the clues he found:

“The former Commander dug a pit under a locust tree on the south side of the mass grave and buried the items on him. Then he sat under the tree and never left.”

“That night, a wolf pack appeared nearby but didn’t approach.

“Another day passed. After three consecutive days without food or water, the former Commander fainted. The wolf pack approached… starting from the alpha wolf, tearing and biting the former Commander’s body… The former Commander woke up in the middle but didn’t resist, or perhaps was too weak to resist…”

Hearing this, Mousse felt blood rushing up, and stood up abruptly.

This time he was really dizzy, vision going black for a while.

He supported his head, chest heaving.

“Good, good!”

Mousse spoke through gritted teeth.

Supporting his head, he glared fiercely at Shadow One.

“You actually ran to the mass grave to seek death yourself!”

“And buried all the items on you, what? Are these the funerary objects you gave yourself?!”

Mousse really wanted to roll up the things on the table and smash them heavily on Shadow One.

But one bottle among them contained his heart’s blood.

He grabbed the cloth bundle but couldn’t bring himself to throw it.

Things he couldn’t bear to smash, Shadow One actually took to bury.

Mousse gritted his teeth in anger.

Unfolded the cloth bundle, grabbed the banknotes inside, and threw them at him.

The banknotes hit Shadow One’s shoulder and scattered all over the floor.

Shadow One knelt silently.

Mousse grabbed a silver ingot, wanted to throw it again.

Thinking Shadow One was covered in injuries, he threw the silver ingot on the floor instead.

Amid the loud sound of silver ingots colliding and rolling, Mousse clutched his aching chest and ordered Shadow Two kneeling in the distance.

“Go pull out those wolves’ teeth and skin them.”

“Yes!” Shadow Two took the order and left.

Mousse moved his gaze to the only person left in the room, calling coldly:

“Shadow One.”

The person on the ground was silent for a moment, bowed his head submissively and said:

“Your Majesty, I am no longer a shadow guard. The name ‘Shadow One’ has long ceased to belong to me. I have no name.

“If you need a title to refer to me… you can call me Nameless (Wu Ming).”

“Nameless, what a lousy name.”

Mousse was disdainful.

“Not even as good as Lai Fu (Fortune).”

Lai Fu was a hunting dog he once raised.

The name was very rustic, but kind of cute.

The person on the ground raised his eyes, actually carrying a trace of hope in them.

“Does Your Majesty want to bestow a name on me?”

Mousse choked.

What’s wrong with him?

Even wants a dog’s name.

Mousse grabbed the household registration identity document on the desk and threw it in front of him.

What do you mean no name.

“Is this not a name?!”

The household registration document fell lightly to the ground.

In the name column, two characters were written in extremely neat and beautiful handwriting.

——Ai Ke.

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