TBR CH138

If someone had asked Chu Huaicun about his thoughts on his former enemy a few days prior, he might have calmly expressed a degree of appreciation.

But now, speaking would clearly feel a bit inappropriate and unjustified.

Because Ji Ying was kissing him.

Chu Huaicun looked into Ji Ying’s eyes. When he finished his last sentence, the other man said almost nothing. He seemed greatly struck, staring blankly at Chu Huaicun, this self-proclaimed savior. He curved his lips but didn’t smile, seemingly unable to dismiss it lightly with a jest. Chu Huaicun patiently waited for his reaction, and Ji Ying’s suspicious gaze lingered on Chancellor Chu for a long time.

“Chancellor Chu speaks like this,” Ji Ying finally uttered indistinctly, “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? Is it sincere? Someone so hopelessly and unilaterally in love with you, do you need to go to such lengths? Or rather, what do you understand that you dare to speak such presumptuous words? If you don’t take that back, I might just… I might just believe it.”

His entire soul swayed, like a candle flame against the wind. Yet, it refused to be extinguished.

“Mm,” Chu Huaicun said, “I will do my best.”

He paused, then added, “Saying ‘save you’ might indeed sound a bit arrogant. But if you need a hand at certain times, I think I can manage. Lord Ji, I don’t think you are weak. What you want to do, I cannot yet know. But you are definitely not without the thought of resistance.”

Chu Huaicun was about to say more, but Ji Ying suddenly lunged forward again, grabbing his collar.

This time, it was a kiss.

It was less a kiss than a ferocious bite, only to be helplessly released just as the scent of the prey’s blood was perceived, revealing the true intent. He pulled at Chancellor Chu’s clothes with even greater force than before, almost recklessly. Chu Huaicun’s usually calm pupils narrowed slightly; he hadn’t expected to fall into his trap.

He instinctively pressed down on the young man’s shoulders, feeling his sharp bones, then hesitated for a moment.

The roles of predator and prey often reversed in such an instant, and treacherous officials like Ji Ying, skilled in manipulation, understood this deeply. He quickly exploited Chu Huaicun’s soft heart, growing more audacious, kissing fiercely and heavily. When Chu Huaicun pushed him away, he felt his lips damp, and could taste a hint of blood.

However, that was Ji Ying’s own lip, bitten moments ago.

Ji Ying deliberately licked his lips in front of him, and his voice, hoarse, let out a chuckle: “Why is Chancellor Chu so surprised? It’s not as if we haven’t kissed before. I like you, I can’t like you any more at this moment. It was a moment of passion, forgive my presumptuousness, Chancellor Chu.”

…He was rambling again, reverting to his original self.

Chu Huaicun felt that the night before him was no longer so pure; it had transformed from questioning into an indescribable ambiguity, and even his own lips felt a bit hot. He lowered his eyes, concealing the slightly melted ice and snow within, and finally let out a silent sigh.

The Ji Ying of the past, who had always seemed lost, stood before him once more.

No matter how he truly viewed Ji Ying, Chu Huaicun thought, he couldn’t lie to himself. At this moment, his mood, like Ji Ying’s, stirred slightly in the moonlight that fell like salt.

After a long separation, wouldn’t it be quite joyful to meet again?

There was no sun or moon in the imperial prison, and Qin Sangzhi had no idea what day it was. No matter which way he looked, it was pitch black. In the dense shadows, even a slight rustle or the sound of a single drop of water would trigger a pale-faced terror. The young man could only huddle in a corner. In such a place, any status or position turned to dust, and he realized this more clearly than anyone else.

Until his eyes finally adjusted to the light of the place.

His cell had a heavy bronze door, and beyond that door were more doors, but Qin Sangzhi had already forgotten how many there were. He was confined alone in a small corner, unable to do almost anything, lying on dirty straw. But the fellow prisoners he could see were in even more miserable conditions. They could barely stand upright, wore shackles, and secretly peered at the new arrival, their eyes as dark as coal.

Qin Sangzhi had tried to speak to them, but they said nothing.

On the first night, Qin Sangzhi resented Chu Huaicun for truly letting him fall into such a state, but subsequent experiences made him change his mind. The person held next to him was brutally taken away by the jailers, and when he was heavily escorted back, he was almost entirely bruised. He even watched helplessly as one prisoner was led away and never returned.

Looking at it this way, his life at this moment truly depended entirely on Chu Huaicun.

The jailers looked at him with a hint of apprehension, their pupils clearly reflecting the person behind Qin Sangzhi. In the sunless environment, Qin Sangzhi strangely felt a bit of comfort.

He was different from those unforgivable criminals; those people were dirty and oblivious, while he had Chancellor Chu’s backing. For some reason, the more difficult the past few days became, the more he began to think of Chu Huaicun’s kindness to him before.

Chancellor Chu had almost meticulously resolved all the difficulties he encountered, always responding to his every need, and his icy demeanor always softened into a spring breeze before him. Chancellor Chu would naturally always trust him—

He would be released soon.

Qin Sangzhi didn’t realize that his nerves were growing increasingly taut in this environment. His only hope was Chu Huaicun, so trivial past memories were unearthed, each one making him feel a belated sweetness and gratitude. Yes, then perhaps he should also…

The cell door was pushed open, and the light from outside flooded in, dazzling Qin Sangzhi’s eyes. The harsh light stung his eyes, and it took a moment for him to realize that the external light source in his hallucination was actually a blazing torch in the jailer’s hand.

“Qin Sangzhi.”

The jailer coldly pronounced his name. Before, it was always others, but now it was finally his turn. Qin Sangzhi was dragged out of his cell, so terrified his heart almost stopped. He was pulled out, trembling, his hair covering his face, and he asked in a shaky voice:

“Jailer, sir, could you… could you tell me where you’re taking me?”

Even the jailer frowned, glancing at this Young Master Qin, who was reportedly the foremost gentleman of the current dynasty. It seemed a gentleman’s bones weren’t so hard after all; less than three days of confinement without lack of food or drink, and he already looked so humble and disheveled. However, he merely followed his duty, using a long stick to escort the prisoner out of the cell.

Qin Sangzhi stumbled along, uncertain. He didn’t even dare to open his eyes until he reached a certain point, and the person beside him pressed heavily on his shoulder. He suddenly looked up, and what met his eyes was a blue sky painted on the wall, and officials in official robes with long beards. The gavel slammed down heavily, resounding like a thunderclap in his ear.

“Bring Qin Sangzhi forward,” the official commanded. “This case is currently in the deliberation stage. Under the Son of Heaven, this is a grave matter. No deception or lies will be tolerated, or your life will be at risk. Qin, you are the prime suspect. Do you understand?”

Whispers rose from the surrounding crowd. Only then did Qin Sangzhi realize that he had been brought to court directly without any cleanup, looking dirty all over, his eyebrows lowered in humiliation, appearing exactly like someone guilty.

He was a renowned scholar of the current dynasty, and this was in front of people!

He quickly straightened up, arching his back, trying to appear unyielding, glaring as if he had been wronged. Fortunately, Qin Sangzhi had good looks, and his aloof and disdainful expression was just right, likely salvaging some of his image. Qin Sangzhi quickly scanned his surroundings but did not see Chu Huaicun.

Probably to avoid suspicion, he thought subconsciously, not noticing that he was already making excuses for Chancellor Chu.

The three days and three nights were truly agonizing for him. His only salvation now was Chu Huaicun, and he had even spontaneously developed some genuine affection. He looked around and saw Ji Ying again. Ji Ying was not with the crowd; he stood alone in a spot, a sinister smile on his face that sent shivers down one’s spine.

“Qin Sangzhi, do you confess your guilt!”

The first sentence took Qin Sangzhi by surprise. Guilt? What guilt? What did they know now?

He quickly churned his thoughts, about to retort.

“You brought the Spring Imperial Examination questions to the Qu Shui Liu Shang gathering, leading to the leak of the examination questions. You are undeniably responsible. Is this true?”

This heavy accusation pressed down on his head. Qin Sangzhi’s mind roared, but the official sitting in the court didn’t wait for him to offer any rebuttal, ordering the witnesses to come forward. The figures of the witnesses pricked Qin Sangzhi’s eyes: scholars who had attended the banquet that day, his own page boy, and even—even among these people, the Seventh Prince, seemingly timidly lowering his eyes, was also included.

How could this be? Even he hadn’t noticed how things had happened, did they all…

Qin Sangzhi abruptly turned his head.

Still in that corner, Ji Ying also unhurriedly raised his eyes, smiling sinisterly at him, his eyes filled with bottomless mockery, his deep purple official robe embroidered with serpents, like a malevolent spirit.

Damn it, Qin Sangzhi thought desperately.

These witnesses must have all been bribed by this damnable villain.

“Your Majesty.” Ji Ying knelt submissively before the emperor.

The elderly man was in a good mood today. “Well, has that Qin Sangzhi confessed?”

“He will certainly be stubborn, but with the human and material evidence, he cannot ramble for long.”

Ji Ying said calmly, “The only tricky part is Chancellor Chu. Chu Huaicun is pressuring the Ministry of Revenue, which I oversee. He is, after all, powerful. If we insist on holding Qin Sangzhi, I believe Chancellor Chu will intervene.”

The emperor seemed to recall something, coughed twice, and his murky eye turned to Ji Ying, staring at him unblinkingly:

“Indeed, I have also received reports. They say that Chu Huaicun has recently been inviting you to his residence daily to discuss accounts. Ostensibly an invitation, but secretly a threat, hehe. Lord Ji, what do you think? You don’t harbor any resentment, do you?”

Ji Ying’s expression remained unchanged, his eyes still as dark as before:

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your grace. If I can serve Your Majesty loyally, my death would not be regrettable. That Qin Sangzhi is Chancellor Chu’s weakness. Since he has occasionally stumbled, he must not be easily let go. Chancellor Chu is pressing hard, but I can still maneuver a bit; it’s merely testing each other’s bottom line. Please rest assured, Your Majesty. As for revealing the mastermind behind the examination leak—this humble servant dares not investigate further, I implore Your Majesty to grant my wish.”

In that half-murky eye, the anorganic pupil seemed to twitch again, its gaze directly scrutinizing the kneeling man.

After a long moment, the emperor laughed again, finally lowering his guard.

“Go.”

Outside the palace gates, a dark palace sedan chair was already waiting for him. Ji Ying lifted the curtain and entered the sedan chair, inadvertently glancing at the coachman out of the corner of his eye. The coachman pulled the reins, and only when the carriage had driven out of the palace gates did he let out a quiet, bitter laugh:

“Lord Ji is truly prescient. These past two days, His Majesty has brought the Seventh Prince into the palace to personally raise him. However, on the surface, His Highness Prince Duan is still the most favored. As for the Crown Prince, His Majesty remains indifferent.”

“Understood.” Ji Ying’s eyelashes obscured his view. As soon as he left the palace, he instructed: “To the Chancellor’s residence.”

He wasn’t worried that such an act would be too ostentatious. The old emperor knew he had a habit: from the very beginning when he was forced to take up that bloody knife, he learned never to escape. Those most inglorious, most undignified tasks, he would do first after leaving the palace, going against instinct, directly confronting the tasks he least wished to face.

Negotiating with Chancellor Chu carried many risks, even life-threatening ones.

Placing such a task at the forefront instead reassured the old man in the palace. Ji Ying leaned back in the sedan chair, feeling his shoulders and neck stiff and sore, likely from maintaining the bowed, submissive posture for too long. He sighed silently, pressing the area himself. This sensation was minimal to him, but he didn’t want to appear too disheveled in front of Chu Huaicun.

Once he thought this, he wondered if he hadn’t already done all the most disheveled things.

The palace sedan chair carried Ji Ying. Apart from that, other observers had to hide as they approached the Chancellor’s residence. The sedan chair paused, stopped, and the silent gates of the Chancellor’s residence stood before it. Many had tried to knock on this door, but to no avail.

The gatekeeper must have already received Chancellor Chu’s instructions and welcomed Ji Ying inside.

He followed the guide’s footsteps, and strangely, the surrounding scenery seemed to take on a familiar scent, creating a strange sense of temporal displacement. Ji Ying stopped.

“Lord Ji has arrived?” Chu Huaicun sat behind the tea table in the reception hall, pouring himself a cup of tea. He didn’t like having servants do things; he preferred to do most small tasks himself. As he leaned over to look at the tea, he was exactly like the bright, ice-and-snow-like youth he once was, squinting his eyes.

“Mr. Fang is still working, you…” He paused, “Would you like a cup of tea here first?”

Under Chu Huaicun’s gaze, Ji Ying suddenly realized he had been standing still in a daze for too long.

Unlike Chu Huaicun, he clearly knew the other’s identity and understood their shared past. The sudden increase in time spent with Chu Huaicun sometimes caused him to fall into a daze of past memories. Just now, he almost couldn’t control himself from stepping forward, sighing softly while indulgingly correcting his incorrect posture in holding the teapot. They had taken the same classes back then, but Chu Huaicun probably hadn’t listened at all.

“Just call me Ji Ying.” Ji Ying’s voice was a bit hoarse. He sat down opposite Chu Huaicun.

Chu Huaicun looked at him with a hint of surprise. “I got used to calling you that before, Lord Ji—Ji Ying, I forgot to ask if you have a courtesy name. I thought it might be good to address you by your courtesy name, although few people directly call me by mine. If you are willing…”

“Jiezhao.”

Ji Ying and Chu Huaicun spoke these two characters simultaneously in their minds, feeling as if it were a dream. He quickly curved his lips into a smile. “I think I’ll continue to call you Chancellor Chu. A person like me is born to handle sordid affairs, and I didn’t even get a chance to seriously choose a courtesy name. I’ve almost forgotten it myself.”

After that uncontrolled night, they seemed to have reached a harmonious relationship again.

However, both knew that things were far from over. Between them, a certain inexplicable atmosphere silently grew. Ji Ying sometimes suddenly felt a terrifying thought: perhaps he wasn’t the only one looking at Chu Huaicun opposite him, occasionally experiencing a strong sense of déjà vu. Was it possible for Chu Huaicun to feel the same?

He couldn’t overtly prevent Chu Huaicun from exploring his past now.

And Chancellor Chu was a complete pragmatist, now neatly attempting to unearth his entire past. But this task was not so easy; Ji Ying knew that with the emperor’s caution, especially when younger, he wouldn’t have left any connections.

“No,” Chu Huaicun looked at him, a slight softening flickering in his cold eyes. “It’s the same for me. I haven’t been called by that name in a long time.”

The teapot was pushed to Ji Ying’s side. Chancellor Chu’s hospitality was clearly lacking; he wouldn’t even pour tea for his guest. Ji Ying effortlessly grasped the teapot handle, his posture standard, his movements fluid, and even the position of his fingers on the pot body was impeccable. Even a master of tea ceremony from this era would likely praise him effusively.

He slightly tilted the pot, and the dark green tea, steaming and bitter, poured into the cup. When it was half full, Ji Ying retracted his wrist, ensuring the tea in the cup was just the right amount.

Chu Huaicun suddenly spoke softly: “Yuan’ya.”

Ji Ying’s hand paused, losing the most precise control over the tea. The tea almost overflowed, forming an arc like a crescent moon at the rim of the cup, flowing in a vibrant green, and a drop or two of tea rolled from the spout, landing on the table.

“…What?” Ji Ying could only ask, “Chancellor Chu, who are you calling?”

“My apologies,” Chu Huaicun, in his pure white robes, seemed truly unworldly. Not until Ji Ying spoke did his indifferent eyes once again reflect the colors of Ji Ying. Even Chancellor Chu’s usually calm voice was slightly hoarse.

“Ji Ying, when you were pouring tea just now, you reminded me of someone. I was momentarily distracted. His movements were exactly like yours.”

Ji Ying curved his eyes, feigning indifference: “Everyone in the palace pours tea this way; it’s the most standard posture.”

But his heart pounded uncontrollably. How many years had it been since he heard those two characters? Not only had his name been buried, but names were always more frequently used than more intimate courtesy names. He had heard someone call him that at banquets full of guests, had personally received that address from family members, had been called that by the young man before him, over and over, every subtle syllable identical.

He really shouldn’t have… exposed himself too easily…

Chu Huaicun, however, very reasonably changed the subject. He naturally went on to discuss taxes and the upcoming sacrifice the emperor was to hold. Ji Ying averted his gaze, striving to regain his composure. Chancellor Chu calmly took everything in, including the treacherous official who tried to appear normal, and his involuntarily curled fingers.

That person, until he disappeared without a trace, still didn’t know why Chu Huaicun always guessed when he was lying.

How could such a coincidence exist in the world, that the person he had been searching for so long was sitting right opposite him? This was his previous thought. But Chu Huaicun also thought, how could such a coincidence exist in the world, that two people separated by more than ten years just happened to have the exact same habitual movements when they felt guilty?

He had almost forgotten those impractical conjectures.

But the moment Ji Ying straightened his back to pour tea, another scene seemed to appear before his eyes. That figure, always dressed in white, bore no resemblance to the other’s deep purple official robe, yet they mysteriously overlapped. Every movement was identical, the hallucination so real that even someone as composed as Chu Huaicun couldn’t help but blurt out the other’s courtesy name.

But the impractical fantasy shattered in that instant. The person who looked up was undoubtedly Ji Ying.

He had a pair of unfathomable eyes.

Uncharacteristically, Chu Huaicun did not feel the disappointment that would be expected. He merely scrutinized Ji Ying closely, from his hair, which had been spread out like a spiderweb in tense moments but now lay meekly on his shoulders, to his pursed lips, which appeared exceptionally pale due to a lack of vitality, and then to his back, which, from his build, revealed beautiful butterfly bones. But he was too thin, and too worn down.

“What do you like to eat?” Chancellor Chu suddenly asked.

Ji Ying looked up inexplicably, countless thoughts quickly flashing through his mind. At such a time, the most standard answer was an unremarkable one, and he truly had no particular dietary restrictions; he could eat most things.

“I don’t have any particular preferences, but I don’t dislike anything either.”

“Is that so,” Chu Huaicun looked at him fixedly for a few seconds. Ji Ying felt a little uneasy, not knowing what could be criticized about his answer, but Chancellor Chu suddenly revealed a slightly meaningful smile, like melting ice and snow:

“I recall Lord Ji dislikes fish.”

At the celebration banquet that year, although Lord Ji had little appetite, he had touched his chopsticks to most of the dishes. However, he hadn’t touched the fat, tender, and delicious East Lake carp in the center. At that time, Chu Huaicun merely observed him subtly, treating him as a stranger, but he subconsciously remembered this conclusion.

It wasn’t because he disliked the fishy smell, as Ji Ying showed no aversion to other seafood.

“Chancellor Chu knows a lot; I should feel a bit of crisis,”

Ji Ying curved his eyes in a smile, as if this were not a flaw. “However, I’m actually very happy that Chancellor Chu is willing to pay attention to me. Indeed, I don’t particularly like the taste of fish, but it’s not to the extent of loathing.”

This was completely different from the person in Chu Huaicun’s memory.

It was said that a gentleman should not have preferences in food, but that person was exceptionally fond of fish. However, he had observed the rules and precepts of a prominent family’s son since childhood, so he couldn’t even eat much of what he liked. Chu Huaicun would sometimes secretly place a piece of fish meat, the fattest part of the fish belly, into his bowl.

His only transgressions were mostly brought about by Chu Huaicun, but chewing the fish meat did indeed bring a satisfying sense of accomplishment.

Chu Huaicun called for the steward of the residence and, in front of Ji Ying, instructed them to prepare dinner. Only then did Ji Ying realize that it was already dusk. He had unknowingly stayed there for a long time and had already been included in the host’s invitation for dinner.