AEOGA CH61

The crowd fell quiet all at once, no longer laughing. Every one of them hurriedly stole glances at the Emperor’s and Empress’s faces to gauge their reactions.

Leaving aside the fact that this line was five characters rather than seven—failing to fit the prompt—the second line was something that should never, ever have been spoken aloud. The imperial palace was full of taboos, and bringing up murder and arson in front of His Majesty and His Highness the Empress was sheer lèse-majesté. Furthermore, Helian Xi was a prince of a foreign nation; his status was already delicate. Had the ruler been even slightly suspicious, he would have suspected Helian Xi was an assassin sent by an enemy state, blurting out the truth in his cups.

After a moment of frozen silence, Lu Xuechao broke the chill, smiling softly. “Another one drunk.”

Her tone made it clear she would not pursue the matter.

Everyone felt a wave of relief, and the atmosphere around the feast grew lively once more.

“How is Prince Helian even more wasted than Hua Yan?”

“Indeed, the prompt called for seven characters, yet he spoke five…”

“A penalty drink! Can the Ninth Prince even hold a cup right now?”

Though Helian Xi was thoroughly intoxicated, he gritted his teeth and poured himself another cup. Because his hands were trembling slightly, a good deal of the wine spilled down the outside of the cup.

Qin Yulong frowned. He’s so drunk he can’t even pour steadily, yet he still insists on drinking.

When one failed the drinking game, a penalty drink was required—rules were rules. However, if someone truly could not hold their liquor, another could step in to drink on their behalf, just as Fu Xinian had taken Hua Yan’s penalty drink earlier.

Qin Yulong hesitated for a fraction of a second, but ultimately did not step in.

Those who drank in someone else’s place were typically close friends or relatives. Everyone knew Fu Xinian and Hua Yan were on good terms, whereas his own poor relationship with Helian Xi was common knowledge. Stepping forward now would look utterly bizarre.

In that single second of hesitation, Helian Xi raised his cup with heroic bravado and downed the wine in one gulp, drawing praise for his bold spirit. Yet the moment he finished, he tossed the cup aside, collapsed back into the chair’s embrace, and propped up his head.

Qin Yulong, who had been watching him the entire time, saw him clutching his head as if from a hangover. Fearing even more that Helian Xi might utter another treasonous piece of drunken nonsense and offend His Majesty, he stood up and reported, “Your Majesty, Your Highness the Empress, Prince Helian is drunk. Allow this servant to escort him back to his palace.”

Their residences were right next to each other, making it perfectly logical for him to see Helian Xi back. Yet, given how they usually clashed, it felt strangely out of place.

Xie Chongjin said nothing more than: “Granted.”

Not a single secret affair in this palace could escape his notice. He had long grown accustomed to who was paired with whom and knew every match like the back of his hand. Even Lin Chanzhi, in the timeline after the Consort Route players were sent out of the palace early by Lu Xuechao, would end up marrying a merchant named Wang and live a life of happiness.

That merchant was none other than Wang Yiming.

Having lived so many lives and witnessed it all so many times, no matter who sparked romantic feelings for whom, Xie Chongjin would never be surprised again. Nor did he care if the entire inner palace paired off; he never viewed them as his harem, nor did he feel it tarnished his dignity.

Qin Yulong cupped his hands in respect, then instructed Helian Xi’s servants to support the prince and lead him out of Nongju Garden.

Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao held the script and knew those two were a couple, so they let them be. The others, however, exchanged glances, filled with curiosity.

“How strange. Isn’t Young General Qin usually the one who gets along worst with the Ninth Prince? Yet he voluntarily offered to escort him back,” Shen Hezhou remarked in wonder.

“He wouldn’t be planning to sneakily beat Helian up on the way back, would he?!” Hua Yan said, looking horrified.

Lin Chanzhi replied, “Young General Qin is open and upright. He wouldn’t do something so opportunistic as taking advantage of someone’s vulnerability.”

Still uneasy, Hua Yan stood up instantly. “I’ll go take a look.”

However, he was drunk himself; no sooner had he stood than he stumbled.

Fu Xinian, quick with his hands and eyes, pressed him back down into his seat. “Where are you going to look? You’re drunk yourself—can you even see the path clearly? Besides, there are servants following them. Why are you worrying so much about the Ninth Prince?”

He rarely asked a barrage of questions like this. His voice remained gentle, yet his tone grew increasingly sour.

Hua Yan spent all day playing around in the room with Helian Xi, and it wasn’t as if Fu Xinian didn’t feel jealous.

Though Fu Xinian was widely read, he was no pedant, and he had awakened to his feelings quite quickly. Hua Yan was passionate, sharp, bright, and full of life—knowing the ways of the world without being corrupted by them, remaining pure despite having experienced its dark corners. It was nearly impossible not to fall for him.

Fu Xinian had originally thought he would fall for someone like His Highness the Empress—someone elegant, refined, widely read, and like a breath of fresh air. He revered the Empress and was a similar kind of person himself; in his ideal world, finding an equally talented partner to play games over tea, discuss poetry, and appreciate paintings would be a wonderful life.

Only when he actually met Hua Yan did he realize that reverence and love could be entirely different things. As a gentle breeze, he did not necessarily have to intertwine with another gentle breeze; he could also shelter a tender flower.

That flower could not recite or compose poetry, so he simply listened to the breeze sing. Fu Xinian loved teaching Hua Yan line by line how to recite poems, loved hearing him talk, loved seeing his smiling face, and even came to love the pink robes he once considered vulgar, finding them exquisitely beautiful on him.

It was not the ideal type he had once envisioned, but once he fell in love, his ideal changed to match.

There was only one deeply regrettable detail. When they first met, Hua Yan had tossed Fu Xinian a romance novel, asking him to teach him how to write sweet love language, causing a horrified Fu Xinian to shrink back. Once he truly understood his own heart, he took time out of his busy schedule to meticulously write many romantic poems to express his feelings—lines like “There are trees on the mountain and branches on the trees; my heart delights in you, yet you know it not” and “When shall we meet again after this mutual longing? At this hour on this night, my feelings are hard to bear.” He confessed his love daily in different ways, yet Hua Yan assumed Fu Xinian was merely teaching him how to write novels. Whenever he saw Fu Xinian, he didn’t blush at all, but instead praised his talent with immense admiration.

The subtle, reserved romance of a scholar was something the other side failed to grasp in the slightest.

Receiving no response, Fu Xinian feared it was a case of unrequited love. Seeing that Hua Yan got along even better with Helian Xi, his sense of crisis escalated dramatically.

Drunk as he was, Hua Yan felt his head buzzing from the barrage of questions and couldn’t answer a single one, but he obediently gave up on going after them.

Fu Xinian’s mind settled, and he continued the game.

This incident was merely an interlude. After Qin Yulong and Helian Xi left with their personal attendants, the remaining people continued playing the flying flower game, which turned into a trial of skill between Xie Chongjin, Lu Xuechao, and Fu Xinian. It was truly a clash of titans; no matter how obscure the poem, the three could recite it instantly, leaving everyone else slack-jawed in awe.

“I originally thought I was fairly well-read,” Shen Hezhou whispered to Liu Yansheng. “Only today do I realize I am illiterate.”

Liu Yansheng deeply agreed. “Who says otherwise? I’m just curious—those poetic lines are so breathtaking, how could they not be widely circulated? I’ve never even heard of them.”

By the time the dishes had gone completely cold, Fu Xinian refrained from matching any more verses. “Your Majesty and Your Highness the Empress possess immense talent; this subject bows in admiration. If we continue, I fear we won’t settle a winner even by dawn.”

“Then let us call it a night,” Xie Chongjin said with a smile. “I have thoroughly enjoyed myself today.”

Having drunk a bit of hangover soup, Hua Yan whispered to Fu Xinian, “You’re amazing, being able to match poems with His Majesty and His Highness for so long! Which poetry anthology are those lines from? You actually hoarded them and didn’t tell me.”

“It’s not that I hoarded them,” Fu Xinian replied. “The later poems were composed on the spot by His Majesty, His Highness, and myself. Naturally, no one else has heard them before.”

Hua Yan: “…”

Literati were truly incredible.

–

Thousand Carp Pond, far removed from the bustling noise of Nongju Garden, was exceptionally desolate.

The after-effects of Manjianghong were immense. Helian Xi could barely maintain his composure back at the banquet, but now he was completely out of it, dragged along by his attendants at a pace slower than a turtle crawling.

Qin Yulong strode ahead like the wind, but when he looked back, he saw that the prince had been left far behind. Taking a deep breath, he retraced his steps and looked at the intoxicated Helian Xi with disgust. “You don’t have the stomach for a thousand cups, yet you insisted on drinking so much Manjianghong. Do you have no clue about your own limits?”

“Let go, I’ll carry him on my back.”

“Huh?” The attendant froze, nervously glancing around. “But…”

Young General Qin has a grudge against His Highness. It’s deserted here, and there’s a pond right beside us… The general isn’t planning to carry His Highness and throw him into the pond, is he?

“If I tell you to let go, let go. Otherwise, how long is this going to take? I promised His Majesty I’d escort your prince back; do you think I want to waste time on the road?” Qin Yulong said impatiently.

“…Understood,” the attendant submitted timidly, letting go.

Qin Yulong looked at the unconscious Helian Xi. His cheeks were flushed red from the wine, his eyes were closed, his lips were crimson, and the cinnabar mark between his brows looked exquisitely vivid. He actually appeared quite handsome and obedient.

“When that mouth of yours isn’t talking, you actually look decent,” Qin Yulong muttered under his breath as he hoisted the man onto his back.

The moment he carried him, he realized that although Helian Xi looked fair, delicate, and frail on the outside, he was actually quite heavy.

It wasn’t fat. Qin Yulong was a martial artist himself; even through the thick autumn clothing, he could feel the well-defined, smooth, and immensely powerful muscle tone beneath Helian Xi’s seemingly slender frame.

The hand draping over his neck wasn’t the soft, delicate hand of a pampered prince who never touched hard work. There were calluses on the web of his thumb and his palm—Qin Yulong recognized them as the kind that only formed from handling spears and blades over a long time, the very same calluses he had on his own hands.

Helian Xi knew martial arts, and his skill was far from ordinary.

This realization made Qin Yulong’s heart tighten.

In an instant, countless conspiracy theories flashed through his mind.

If Helian Xi is hiding his strength, what is his goal? Is he really just a prince sent by Xifeng for a political marriage? Could he be carrying out an assassination mission? Is he pretending to be drunk right now, resting on my back, waiting to deliver a fatal strike that will cost Changli a major general?

Except for brothers who shared life and death on the battlefield, one must never expose their back to others—that exposes your fatal weakness. This was what the Qin family had taught him since childhood.

He didn’t even know what possessed him to carry Helian Xi on his back in the first place.

Every suspicion that flashed through Qin Yulong’s mind was an instinct forged through rigorous training. For a general who fought on the battlefield, a lack of vigilance was what was truly fatal.

His entire body tensed for a moment, then relaxed again.

There was a saying: “The one who knows you best is always your enemy.”

Helian Xi was his rival, but this rival had always cursed him to his face and argued openly and honorably, never resorting to underhanded tricks behind his back.

He showed off his archery last time, so it’s completely normal for him to know martial arts. For a foreign prince to keep a low profile in Changli is only natural…

Qin Yulong carried Helian Xi all the way to Feiquan Palace. The servants waiting there came out to greet them, and seeing Qin Yulong carrying their master on his back, they were all startled. “G-Greetings… Noble Consort Qin,” they stammered nervously.

Every single one of them looked deeply guilty. After all, their master mocked Qin Yulong in his palace every day—so why was he being carried back by him now?

Qin Yulong: “…”

That address of “Noble Consort Qin” startled him so much he almost dropped the man on his back. Had the servants not mentioned it, he would have forgotten he still held that title in the harem.

“Go brew a bowl of hangover soup. Your master is drunk,” Qin Yulong instructed, then asked, “Where is his bedroom?”

A servant timidly pointed in a direction, and Qin Yulong strode toward the bed. Without the slightest gentleness, he dumped Helian Xi onto the mattress, turning around to leave immediately.

The rough movement woke Helian Xi up. Dizzily sitting up, he felt his stomach churning violently. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest thing to him, leaned over, and vomited.

“…”

With a darkened expression, Qin Yulong stared at his sleeve covered in vomit, gritting his teeth. “Let go.”

Helian Xi held tight to Qin Yulong’s hand without releasing it. After a moment of dazed confusion, hearing that voice, he finally realized what he was clutching. Then came an even more violent sound: “URP—”

Qin Yulong closed his eyes.

I can’t argue with a drunkard.

He would have preferred Helian Xi stabbing him in the back rather than throwing up the moment he saw him.

The damage was minimal, but the insult was astronomical.