SS CH95

As the saying goes, reuniting after a long separation does not necessarily bring the joy of meeting an old friend in a distant land; it could also bring the awkwardness of staring at each other in silence.

Naturally, Chu Xun had no interest in discussing secrets in front of an outsider. He quietly shot a glance at the Prince of Duan. Taking the hint, the Prince of Duan set down his wine cup, stood up, and led Lu Mingyuan to the adjacent Qinglian Quarters.

Lu Mingyuan hesitated for a moment, then presented the letter Ruan Feiyu had specifically addressed to the Emperor. He glanced back at Chu Xiwei, his expression laced with worry, but only received an impassive look in return. Left with no choice, he followed the Prince out.

The moment they left, the pure musician behind the folding screen also gathered her zither and exited. Only Chu Xiwei and Chu Xun remained in the Anxiang Quarters; not a single extraneous person was left.

Sweeping his robe aside, Chu Xiwei sat down, grabbed an unused wine cup, filled it to the brim, and downed it in one gulp, completely expressionless.

Having been close to him in the past, Chu Xun naturally knew this younger cousin had a bit of a temper. Before, as an older brother, he had accommodated him in almost everything. Now, as the supreme ruler of the nation, seeing Chu Xiwei act this way again brought forth inexplicably complex emotions.

It was as if a seed he thought had rotted long ago suddenly broke through the soil of his heart. The green sprout wasn’t large and looked pitifully fragile, but he couldn’t bear to stomp it back down.

To claim that Chu Xun viewed the current state of their once-inseparable brotherhood as insignificant would be a lie meant only to fool ghosts.

Especially since, from beginning to end, Chu Xiwei had never done anything to wrong him.

What Chu Xun brooded over were Chu Xiwei’s parents and that severed sleeve during the palace coup. Yet, after thinking about it for a very long time afterward, he truly couldn’t figure out exactly what Chu Xiwei had done wrong.

Those who do not know are innocent, not to mention he had been so young back then.

However, many things in this world are inherently difficult to articulate, with no clear right or wrong. By now, so many gratitudes and grudges had burst like yesterday’s bubbles. Whether it was the passionate sincerity of their youthful friendship or the bitter fallout from their opposing stances, for the two of them, it was all merely empty talk now.

Countless thoughts churned in Chu Xun’s mind, yet his expression remained completely watertight. After finishing the blood-stained letter, he sat in silence for a long time. Then, picking up the wine jug, he refilled Chu Xiwei’s cup and smiled. “Aren’t you worried I might poison you?”

“Brother Ziyu has always fancied himself a gentleman. Resorting to the trickery of poison would only insult yourself,” Chu Xiwei replied, drinking his second cup. His alcohol tolerance was leaps and bounds beyond what it used to be. Even drinking premium “Mianchun” felt like merely wetting his lips; he didn’t feel the slightest bit tipsy.

He spoke with absolute certainty, not only from his understanding of Chu Xun, but also from confidence in himself.

He was indeed completely different from the child who only knew how to cry, howl, and bristle with anger.

That night at the wild ferry crossing, they had met and parted in a rush. Chu Xun had gone there to deliver a saber, his heart tangled in knots, his feelings toward Chu Xiwei complex and unspeakable. Because of that, he hadn’t taken a serious look at exactly what kind of person he had become.

Hearing these words now, and seeing Chu Xiwei’s handsome yet murderous features clearly under the bright candlelight, Chu Xun inevitably fell into a slight daze. Recovering quickly, he drank a cup himself and said, “I originally thought our last parting was a permanent farewell.”

“Did you think seeing my face would make you comfortable?” Chu Xiwei set down his cup. His words were merciless, and his expression showed no goodwill.

He had let go of his unspeakable love and hate for Ye Fusheng, but he still harbored deep resentment toward Chu Xun. Although he no longer had any intention of killing him to take his life, returning to their once innocent, carefree brotherhood was impossible.

His words were impolite, but Chu Xun didn’t get angry. After all, having seen too many people with honey on their lips and swords in their bellies over the years, this kind of straightforward expression of like and dislike was exactly what he longed for.

Chu Xun smiled, though a cold intent surfaced in his eyes. “Being so disrespectful to the ruler of a nation—are you not afraid I will punish you for your crimes?”

“It is the fault of this commoner.” Hearing this, a slow smile pulled at the corners of Chu Xiwei’s mouth. “This commoner, Chu Xiwei, pays respects to the Emperor. May His Majesty live a thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years… How is that?”

His words were incredibly proper, yet his tone held not a shred of respect, and he didn’t even bother to bow. Rather than greeting an emperor, it was no different from watching a comedy act on a stage.

Yet, after this brief exchange, the coldness in Chu Xun’s eyes melted like ice and snow.

He laughed softly, the sound tumbling twice in his throat before spilling past his lips. Reaching up to wipe the corner of his eye, he said, “Xiwei, you have changed.”

Chu Xiwei finally looked at him squarely.

This was their second meeting in ten years. Compared to their hasty encounter under mental turmoil at the wild ferry crossing last time, under these bright lights, he finally took a good look at this man who was entirely different from before.

Chu Xun was only four years older than him, an age that should have been the prime of his youth and elegance. Yet his eyes already held the vastness of an entire ocean. Though he carried a permanent faint smile before speaking, there was a sharp, awe-inspiring presence about him.

A gold-traced jade crown held his long hair neatly in place, but with Chu Xiwei’s sharp vision, he still noticed a few imperceptible strands of frost-white.

Back then, the fifteen-year-old youth became the final victor in a bloody palace coup, ascending to the throne by stepping over an unknown number of fresh blood and white bones. Yet everyone knew that sitting on that throne was merely the beginning of all the swords and shadows.

Constant anxiety and overthinking were far sharper weapons for aging a person than the relentless flow of time. Being mediocre would certainly have been easier, but Chu Xun harbored towering ambitions. He swore to enact reforms and carve out an entirely new path.

“To govern affairs from one’s position” was never a phrase to be spoken lightly.

Rubbing the white porcelain wine cup with his fingers, a smile tugged at the corner of Chu Xun’s mouth. “When you left all those years ago, looking at your eyes, I felt that either you would never return to the Imperial Capital in your life, or you would come back to fight me to the death.”

Chu Xiwei chuckled lightly.

Before his laugh even faded, Chu Xun felt his vision blur. Keeping his lower body still, he slightly shifted his upper body and raised a hand, executing a “Picking Flowers” move to intercept the fierce wind. Unexpectedly, he grasped nothing but empty air. Before he could retract his stance, a sharp prick of pain bloomed on the side of his neck.

Chu Xiwei, who had originally been sitting across from him, crossed the small table in the blink of an eye and appeared behind him. Not only did he use a feint to trick him into a misstep, but he also pressed a shard of broken porcelain directly against the vital artery on his throat.

The sharp edge of the porcelain had already pierced the skin, a speck of crimson mottling its surface. If Chu Xiwei’s hand moved even a fraction of an inch closer, Chu Xun would be a dead man.

The killing intent that had been completely undetectable just moments ago was finally exposed. Chu Xun felt the aura of the man behind him abruptly change, transforming into countless venomous fangs sinking into flesh and blood, desperately wishing to tear him apart.

A bronze mirror on the opposite wall reflected the scene behind him. The smile on Chu Xiwei’s lips hadn’t vanished, but his eyes had grown piercingly cold, as if the night had suddenly been tainted by demonic qi, degenerating a living person into a phantom.

“I have killed many kinds of people, but I have never slaughtered an Emperor…” The smile slowly receded from Chu Xiwei’s lips, his voice turning chillingly grim. “Brother Ziyu, do you think I dare to?”

As a martial artist, Chu Xun’s instinct made him subconsciously want to strike back and break free, but he forcefully suppressed the urge. Instead, he calmly refilled his wine cup. “Of course you dare, but you wouldn’t be that stupid.”

The killing intent that erupted in that instant was undeniably real. Chu Xun tangibly felt Chu Xiwei’s murderous desire. Even though the hand holding his cup remained steady, a layer of cold sweat broke out on his back.

He was now the supreme ruler, but over the years, government affairs had consumed the vast majority of his energy and time. Even though Ye Fusheng held nothing back when teaching him, and Chu Xun’s martial arts had improved compared to ten years ago, he was far outmatched by Chu Xiwei, who had abandoned his past and thrown himself entirely into the Jianghu.

Chu Xiwei’s talent was originally superior to his, and because he started practicing martial arts earlier, when his foundation was more malleable, Ye Fusheng had long predicted he would surpass him on the martial path. However, back then, Chu Xiwei was still an imperial grandson clad in brocade and fed on jade, always looking for ways to slack off during practice. It wasn’t until the palace coup suddenly stripped him of everything that he truly poured all his focus into martial arts. Today, he was no longer the ignorant boy of the past.

During their lightning-fast clash at the wild ferry crossing a month ago, although Chu Xun seemingly held the upper hand, the truth was that Chu Xiwei had been flustered by his words first and, caught off guard, took a fully-charged “Jinglei” finger strike. Yet, while the strike forced Chu Xiwei back, it failed to truly injure him.

From that moment on, Chu Xun truly realized that the soft, malleable meatball Chu Yao had truly vanished. In his place was Chu Xiwei, the Sect Master of the Hundred Ghosts Sect, who walked in the dark night and held the power of life and death.

And precisely because of this, Chu Xun was certain he would not strike.

If he were still that Chu Yao who had nothing left but a heart full of hatred and resentment, he would undoubtedly be willing to suffer a thousand cuts just to drag the Emperor down from his horse. However, shouldering the responsibility of the Hundred Ghosts Sect meant he would never elevate his personal vendettas above the lives of thousands of innocent people.

A person with no attachments can act recklessly and remain invulnerable, but a Chu Xiwei burdened with responsibility must think thrice before acting. No matter how wildly hatred bloomed within him, he would never truly move to kill him.

Chu Xun drained his cup of wine, and Chu Xiwei released the porcelain shard in his hand.

In the instant the shard pierced his skin, countless past events surged up alongside the flames of hatred. Gratitude, grudges, love, and hate churned endlessly amidst sorrow, joy, anger, and happiness. Chu Xiwei had nearly lost control; he came dangerously close to slitting Chu Xun’s throat to finally settle the dust on this half-lifetime of upended years.

But exactly as Chu Xun had predicted, in the end, he didn’t.

Returning to his seat, his breathing returning to normal, Chu Xiwei drank a cup of wine and said, “Seeing you in the same room with the Prince of Duan, it seems that regardless of whether you are uncle and nephew or ruler and subject, you have already reached a consensus. It seems I made this trip for nothing.”

“The fact that you made this trip at all already exceeded my expectations,” Chu Xun smiled. “You must already know quite a bit about Prime Minister Ruan’s matter.”

Chu Xiwei sneered, “A seat constantly balanced on the tip of a blade, yet there’s a massive flock of ignorant fools desperately fighting for the chance to sit on it.”

Chu Xun reached up to massage his forehead. “Unfortunately, if the person who sits on this seat makes a single misstep, the consequences would be unimaginable.”

The cold sneer on Chu Xiwei’s lips froze in an instant.

“The Prince of Li harbors the wild ambitions of a wolf. Colluding with foreign tribes and Jianghu factions, he secretly cleared obstacles for his schemes. And he is entirely too good at hiding his edge and concealing his feathers. If it hadn’t been for Prime Minister Ruan’s scheme this time, I might have died without ever knowing who stabbed me in the back.” Chu Xun’s finger tapped the letter, a fierce look appearing in his eyes. “My death is not to be pitied, but the Great Chu Empire cannot fall into the hands of a vile villain willing to sell out his country for personal gain.”

“What is the use of telling me all this?” Chu Xiwei asked.