After Pretending to be an Idiot, I Was Targeted by the Cold-Blooded Zhangyin - Chapter 31

The Old Emperor exuded a pungent smell of alcohol mixed with the sulfurous scent of gunpowder from his alchemy. His face was less than a fist’s width away from Xie Changsheng’s, and the sensation of his breath hitting Xie’s face was uncomfortably clear.

Xie Changsheng propped his hands by his side, wanting to scoot backward, but his body lacked even a shred of strength; his arms felt as limp as noodles. Fortunately, the Emperor sat up straight, finally creating some distance between them.

“Changsheng, are you ill?”

The Emperor asked while stealing a glance at Gu Feiyi. Too much had happened tonight. Lady Wang was dead, and the son in her womb was gone. Kunning Palace had caught fire, and the Empress was buried in the flames. The Wu clan members had entered the palace overnight to seek an audience—not to demand justice, but to recommend a new Empress.

The Emperor had simply told them the matter would wait until Gu Feiyi returned to be discussed. Having finally sent them away, he had found several Western beauties for a game of blindfolded hide-and-seek to dispel his gloom. Then, he heard that Xie Changsheng was ill and wanted to see him.

The Emperor didn’t feel much of anything except exhaustion. But since Gu Feiyi had sent word, he couldn’t afford not to come. After all, Gu Feiyi was his most trusted hawk and hound.

Still, he felt a certain amount of irritability. He stared at Xie Changsheng’s face—which looked almost identical to A-Lan’s—and asked, as if completing a chore: “How did you get sick? Has the physician seen you? Do you want to sleep a while longer?”

Xie Changsheng had finally recovered from the shock of waking up to the Emperor’s face. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was entirely hoarse; no sound came out. He could only shake his head repeatedly.

Gu Feiyi was leaning against the table, his body slightly tilted as he watched the two. When he saw this scene, he finally couldn’t resist curling his lips into a smile. He had heard Xie Changsheng calling for his father and thought the boy wanted the Emperor. He hadn’t expected that upon seeing him, the boy’s eyes would be filled with nothing but repulsion.

The Emperor was also preoccupied. Seeing that Xie Changsheng was in genuine pain, Gu Feiyi straightened up and stepped forward. “Your Majesty, it is late. Return early to rest.”

These words hit exactly the right note for the Emperor. He said a few more words to Xie Changsheng about resting well and returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Gu Feiyi saw the Emperor off and then returned to Yuling Palace. Upon his arrival, the serving attendants skillfully withdrew without needing to be told.

Xie Changsheng likely hadn’t fallen back asleep since waking earlier. He looked much more spirited now, sitting up and holding a bowl with both hands, taking small sips of the Chinese medicine the physician had brewed. The medicine must have been very bitter; with every sip, his face puckered.

Once the medicine was finished, Xie Changsheng’s strength was spent. He let out a weak, long sigh of relief and slid back under the covers.

Gu Feiyi stepped forward and reached out, pressing something against Xie Changsheng’s lips. Xie Changsheng stared blankly at the ceiling until Gu Feiyi told him to open up, at which point he took it into his mouth.

Gu Feiyi felt something dry, burning, and soft brush against his fingertip.

A moment later, he heard Xie Changsheng’s sluggish voice: “Ah, sweet.”

“It’s a sugar-preserved dried plum.”

Xie Changsheng gave an “Oh.”

Gu Feiyi pulled out a snow-white handkerchief and wiped his finger rhythmically. Suddenly, he said, “The Little Highness falling ill is quite a grand production; it managed to toss this servant around for the entire night.”

Xie Changsheng instantly felt a bit sorry. He offered his thanks to Gu Feiyi: “Human treasure Gu Feiyi! Human hunk Gu Feiyi! Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs! Even the stars falling to earth are nothing compared to having Gu Feiyi by my side!”

Gu Feiyi: “…”

Before he could say anything, Xie Changsheng began to cough violently, his throat irritated from speaking too much. Gu Feiyi sighed and stepped forward. He sat at the head of the bed, having Xie Changsheng lean against him while he lightly patted the boy’s back. It took a long time for the coughing to stop, leaving Xie Changsheng leaning weakly against him.

Gu Feiyi reached out to check Xie Changsheng’s forehead; it was still a scorching temperature. He rose again to pour a cup of water, letting the boy drink slowly while he dampened a cotton cloth to wipe Xie’s forehead, face, and hands to bring the fever down.

When the water was finished, Gu Feiyi returned the empty cup to the table. Then, he actually began to leisurely unfasten his belt.

Xie Changsheng made a hoarse “Eh?” sound. “Why… taking off clothes?”

Gu Feiyi didn’t answer. He removed his belt and outer robe. Finally, dressed only in his inner garments, he walked to the bed and cursed lightly: “Move over… little animal.”

He had been running around for Xie Changsheng all night, and it was already dawn. If he returned to his own quarters, he would only get fifteen minutes of rest at most. It was better to just rest here.

And yet, Xie Changsheng looked unwilling. Truly a heartless little animal, isn’t he? He wondered if other people’s pets were like this. The Master had no majesty, while the little pet used its favor to act like a tyrant.

He lay down beside Xie Changsheng, reaching out his arm to pull the boy into his embrace, just as he had the night before. Gu Feiyi was a light sleeper and usually took a long time to drift off. But warmed by Xie Changsheng’s body temperature, sleepiness quickly set in. He rested his chin on Xie Changsheng’s forehead, closed his eyes, and soon fell asleep.

An hour later, Gu Feiyi was woken up by Feng Wang. Today, he had to prepare the funeral for the Wu clan with the Board of Rites and meet with the Wu family to select a new Empress.

Before leaving Yuling Palace, he summoned Xie Changsheng’s personal maid, Yang Luo. “Watch the Little Highness closely. If his fever returns, send someone to tell me. And do not let him go running around outside again.”

Yang Luo acknowledged the order, her heart trembling with fear. But her mind was full of confusion. She had thought the Palm Print hated the Little Highness—that he stayed close only to torment him and settle old scores. Yet, once Xie Changsheng fell ill, the Palm Print had hurried over. He called the physician and the Emperor. Finally, he even personally kept watch all night.

In this world, what kind of revenge looks like this?

Yang Luo pulled her thoughts back, not daring to think more for fear her curiosity would be discovered and Gu Feiyi would stuff her into her sandalwood coffin.

Gu Feiyi looked at Yang Luo’s terrified expression and let out a light laugh. He simply said, “Serve the Little Highness well,” and turned to leave.

Gu Feiyi was busy until late at night before finally getting a break. He sat in his soft sedan, propping his head on his hand with his eyes closed to rest, when he suddenly remembered something. He lifted the curtain. “To Yuling Palace.”

When he arrived, he didn’t go to see Xie Changsheng first. Instead, he went to the washroom. Having been busy all day and meeting many people, he felt filthy from head to toe. Fortunately, he had already sent a set of his usual hair creams, soaps, and balms to Xie Changsheng. He sat on the bathing stool, rinsing his body with cold water repeatedly until he no longer felt the cold, then stood up satisfied.

He went to the bedchamber. Xie Changsheng had not yet rested; he was sitting at the table, folding a piece of rice paper with great interest, not even noticing Gu Feiyi’s arrival. He seemed to be trying to fold a paper crane, but whether the paper was too soft or his hands were too clumsy, the paper was just a crumpled ball in his hands, failing to take shape.

“Little Highness,” Gu Feiyi called.

Xie Changsheng jumped in fright. Turning to see it was him, he clearly relaxed. Those slightly drooping eyes curved into a smiling expression. “Gu Feiyi.”

Gu Feiyi thought of Xie Changsheng’s reaction when he saw the Emperor the night before—startled, surprised, and full of repulsion. Not a look of closeness like this.

Is this Xie Changsheng showing intimacy toward me?

Gu Feiyi gave a narrowed-eye smile and reached out to pinch Xie Changsheng’s chin, his thumb habitually rubbing the skin of the boy’s cheek. “Mm, not as hot as yesterday.”

He asked, “This servant heard the Little Highness only took medicine today and didn’t eat?”

Xie Changsheng told him in his flat voice, “No appetite, don’t want to eat.”

In truth, he couldn’t eat. Whenever he tried, he remembered the blood beneath Lady Wang—vivid red. The mere memory made his heart skip a beat in fear.

Gu Feiyi, however, thought he truly lacked an appetite. “What does the Little Highness want to eat? This servant will have the Imperial Kitchen make it.”

Xie Changsheng stared at the ceiling for a long time before telling Gu Feiyi, “I actually do have something I want to eat.”

“What is it?”

“Cold medicine, Coca-Cola, and junk food.”

Gu Feiyi: “…”

Setting aside the fact that he’d never heard of the first two, why on earth would he want to eat junk? Gu Feiyi assumed the boy was talking nonsense. He had the Imperial Kitchen make some light dishes and, ignoring Xie Changsheng’s head-shaking, forced him to eat it all.

After returning the empty dishes to the food box, Gu Feiyi took the crumpled paper from the table. Under his slender, nimble fingers, a paper crane slowly took shape. He tucked the crane behind Xie Changsheng’s ear and smiled. “Good boy.”

For two consecutive nights, Gu Feiyi stayed in Yuling Palace. Two days later, Xie Changsheng’s illness was mostly gone. A few days after that, the day of the Empress’s funeral arrived.

On the day of the burial, the princes, imperial lords, and officials wore white mourning clothes and stood outside the palace gates to see off the Wu clan. Xie Changsheng felt a sense of trance; a person he had just spoken to a few days ago had suddenly passed away.

He stared blankly ahead, only to see Gu Feiyi standing beside the Old Emperor. He was actually smiling. His narrow eyes held a murky, cold smile, like a beast lurking in the dark waiting to kill its prey with one strike.

The carriages carrying the Empress’s coffin slowly headed toward the imperial tombs. The funeral was over. The Emperor returned to the palace with a beauty, and the officials relaxed and began to chat. An Empress who wasn’t favored in life didn’t have much of a production in death.

A hand suddenly patted the top of Xie Changsheng’s head. “Little fool, what are you thinking?”

Xie Changsheng turned and saw Xie Hemiao. Xie Hemiao laughed. “Stop spacing out; so many people are watching you.”

Xie Chengjing heard the movement and walked over as well. He smiled gently. “The various gentlemen are all praising Changsheng for being much more clever and well-behaved than before.”

Xie Changsheng sharply caught the keywords: “So many people? Much more clever? Well-behaved?”

How was that possible? His role was a simpleton. Being praised as “clever” was his failure. He had been too irresponsible; he lacked a sense of duty! He had to remember his original intention and never forget his goal.

Thinking of this, Xie Changsheng looked around, took a deep breath, and had an idea. Suppressing his inner shyness, he bent down on all fours. He expertly began to crawl around randomly. He crawled wherever there were many people. As he crawled, he threw sand. As he threw sand, he pulled on people’s trousers.

Finally, he heard Fang Ling’s voice, whispering through gritted teeth among the screams of the crowd: “This blockhead!”

Xie Changsheng let out a satisfied sigh of relief. After crawling for a while longer, he was finally hauled up by Xie Chengjing and Xie Hemiao. Xie Changsheng was tired; he cunningly pretended to be unwilling, but in truth, he stood up immediately. Then, he clapped his hands and laughed loudly.

Not far away, Gu Feiyi’s gaze landed on Xie Changsheng. So filthy.

But… he was someone who loved cleanliness; even the smell of wine on his body would put him in a bad mood. Yet for some reason, he had an urge to take this dust-covered Xie Changsheng, sit him on his lap, wipe his face clean bit by bit, and then hear him call “Master” a few more times.

Mm. He would go to Yuling Palace again later tonight.