After Pretending to be an Idiot, I Was Targeted by the Cold-Blooded Zhangyin - Chapter 42

Xie Changsheng had Feng Wang relay a few more messages, but after that, the eunuch stopped coming. He wondered if Gu Feiyi had been genuinely annoyed by him.

As the hour grew late, the sky deepened into a dark expanse, and the atmosphere of the New Year intensified. Officials gathered in groups, laughing and talking loudly; the drumbeats for the songs and dances quickened; the young princesses leaned into their mothers’ arms, their faces bright with smiles.

Xie Hemiao had been watching the dancing with Xie Changsheng when a young eunuch suddenly approached to whisper in his ear. He stood up to leave.

Xie Changsheng asked, “Second Brother, where are you going? To smoke? To pee? To meet a beauty? Or are you going to strip naked and run in circles on the street?”

Xie Hemiao: “…”

“You little fool, can’t you think of anything good about your brother?” Xie Hemiao’s mouth twitched as he poked Xie Changsheng’s forehead. “My mother, Consort An, is calling for me.”

Xie Changsheng gave an “oh” and said with a vacant smile, “I’m coming too.”

“What are you coming for?” Xie Hemiao asked offhandedly, but then added, “Forget it. If you want to come, then come.”

When Consort An saw Xie Hemiao approaching, she stepped forward to straighten his collar. She then ordered someone to bring a long, padded cotton cloak to drape over his shoulders, her eyes full of maternal affection. “Why are you wearing so little? Aren’t you afraid your legs will ache?”

Xie Hemiao smiled. “I have a hand-warmer to keep them toasty. It doesn’t hurt.”

Xie Changsheng watched Consort An secretly from behind. She appeared to be in her early forties, a gentle and graceful woman of modest height. She and Xie Hemiao shared a deep bond; in the original novel, whenever Consort An was mentioned, she was always worrying over Xie Hemiao’s health.

After Xie Hemiao’s death in the original story, Consort An spent her days washed in tears until she eventually went blind from weeping. Early one morning, she placed her head into a three-foot length of white silk and followed him to the afterlife.

Xie Changsheng’s own parents had passed away in an accident when he was very young, leaving behind only a faint, warm trace of color and scent in his memory. When he had read about Consort An’s death in his previous life, he had even hidden under his covers to shed a few “little pearls” of tears.

Seeing her now in person, Xie Changsheng felt the excitement of a fan meeting their idol.

Consort An took out a palm-sized rosewood box and handed it to Xie Changsheng. “This is tea I blended myself in my spare time. It helps clear the mind and sharpen the vision.”

Xie Changsheng clutched the box to his chest. Suddenly, he reached out to tug on Xie Hemiao’s sleeve and beckoned him over with a mysterious air.

“Why the sudden need for secrets?” Xie Hemiao asked, leaning down to press his ear to Xie Changsheng’s lips.

He heard Xie Changsheng whisper: “…Second Brother, your mom is quite nice. She’s mine now. You can call her ‘Auntie’ from now on.”

Xie Hemiao: “…”

With practiced ease, Xie Hemiao unceremoniously drew his jade tobacco pipe from his waist and rapped it against Xie Changsheng’s head. After the strike, however, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. Xie Changsheng’s mother had passed away early, and the boy was currently unwilling to be close to the Old Emperor. If one were to talk about close relationships, only he and Xie Chengjing remained.

Thinking of this, Xie Hemiao looked at Xie Changsheng’s innocent expression—like that of a four-year-old—and called out, “Little Changsheng.”

Xie Changsheng looked over.

Xie Hemiao said, “If anyone bullies you, tell your Second Brother.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Your Second Brother has quite a few tricks up his sleeve these days.”

The banquet continued until midnight. The darker the sky became, the more the palace glittered, as bright as day. When the hour of the Rat arrived, brilliant fireworks ascended into the sky, and firecrackers exploded with a deafening crackle-pop.

The officials and consorts kowtowed to the Old Emperor at the head of the hall, shouting “Long live the Emperor” in unison. It was a picture of perfect harmony, but when they looked up again, everyone nearly lost their wits in terror.

The Old Emperor was clutching his chest, a look of agony on his face as he spat out mouthfuls of fresh blood.

Standing tall beside the Dragon Throne was Gu Feiyi. He wore a gentle smirk, his face half-illuminated and half-shadowed by the flickering candlelight. The New Year’s Eve banquet instantly devolved into chaos.

The Old Emperor was rushed back to the Hall of Mental Cultivation (Yangxin Dian). The imperial physicians, their faces pale, followed the palanquin in a frantic rush. Those remaining spontaneously knelt to pray for the Emperor’s recovery.

Xie Changsheng knelt with them, but after a short while, Feng Wang appeared. He approached Xie Changsheng, but before he could speak, Xie Hemiao intercepted him: “Aren’t you the eunuch who follows the Lord Regent? What secret message has the Regent sent to my third brother? Why not speak up so we can all hear it?”

Feng Wang shook his head hurriedly. He had been sent by Gu Feiyi to tell Xie Changsheng: “The Little Highness need not stay kneeling; return to Yuxiu Palace early.” Now that he was being watched, he didn’t dare say it.

He returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation and bowed his head to admit fault. “I failed in my task. I await my punishment.”

Gu Feiyi laughed and waved him off. The alchemical pill he had coaxed the Old Emperor into taking during the noon banquet had been laced with ingredients to induce “excessive internal heat.” He had intended for the Old Emperor to suffer an embarrassing nosebleed during the banquet, but he hadn’t expected the man to cough up blood—and right as the midnight bell chimed, no less.

Because the Old Emperor had suffered such a public disgrace, Gu Feiyi was in an excellent mood.

“What punishment?” Gu Feiyi’s voice hummed with genuine pleasure. “Make another trip. Say that the Emperor is fine—he was simply purging toxins from his body after consuming a divine pill. It’s a blessing. Tell them all they may return to their quarters.”

Feng Wang complied.

The officials dispersed, and Xie Changsheng left immediately. Upon returning to Yuxiu Palace, he didn’t go to sleep. Instead, he ordered the servants to boil dumplings and distributed them to everyone in the palace, sharing a New Year’s Eve meal with them. Only after eating the dumplings did he feel the holiday was complete.

After the servants cleared the dishes, news arrived from the Old Emperor’s side: he had supposedly finished “purging the toxins” and was out of danger.

Xie Changsheng washed his face and flopped onto the bed. Listening to the distant, muffled sound of firecrackers, he found himself wide awake. He got up and sat at his desk, tracing the notches carved into the wood with his finger.

Since transmigrating, he had used a small knife to carve a mark into the table nearly every day. This was his counting method—tracking how much of the Old Emperor’s one remaining year of life was left. These marks represented not only the Emperor’s approaching end but also the turning point of his own fate.

He was lost in thought when two sharp knocks sounded against the window frame. Xie Changsheng looked up and saw a silhouette against the paper screen—a tall, upright figure with a sharp, elegant profile.

Xie Changsheng asked, “Gu Feiyi?”

“It is I,” Gu Feiyi’s voice came from outside. “The Little Highness isn’t sleeping. What have you been staring at the table for all this time?”

Xie Changsheng walked to the window and pushed it open a crack. A gust of cold wind rushed in instantly. He shivered and was about to tell Gu Feiyi he was contemplating a serious problem, but Gu Feiyi reached out and shut the window again.

“Talk inside,” his voice drifted in.

After a moment, Gu Feiyi entered. Xie Changsheng noticed he was carrying a festive lantern. It was shaped like a beautiful, delicate bird with intricate patterns painted on its belly. When the handle was shaken, the wings would flap up and down.

Gu Feiyi handed the lantern to Xie Changsheng. Seeing the boy’s eyes light up as he played with it, the smirk on Gu Feiyi’s lips deepened. He poured himself a cup of tea and intended to have Xie Changsheng sit on his lap for a while, but he caught the heavy scent of cosmetics and medicinal wine on his own clothes.

Gu Feiyi frowned. He went to the wardrobe, pulled out a change of clothes he kept at Xie Changsheng’s place, and began to change. As usual, Xie Changsheng turned his back and refused to look.

Gu Feiyi arched an eyebrow, finding it amusing. A playful urge rose in him; he stepped around to face Xie Changsheng. When the boy looked up and saw Gu Feiyi’s exposed chest, he was indeed startled and hurriedly turned away again.

Gu Feiyi circled to the other side. Xie Changsheng simply walked to the corner of the room and stared at the sleeping dog, Suisui.

Gu Feiyi chuckled, finished dressing, and sat in a chair, patting his lap. “Come here.”

Xie Changsheng reluctantly put down the lantern and sat on Gu Feiyi’s lap. Gu Feiyi grasped Xie Changsheng’s right hand, twisting the white jade ring on the boy’s finger a few times. Suddenly, he pulled Xie Changsheng’s hand under the hem of his own garment, pressing the boy’s fingertips against his skin.

Xie Changsheng was terrified, nearly leaping out of his skin as he tried to pull his hand back. But Gu Feiyi held him tight. He asked, “Is my body so hideous that the Little Highness refuses to look?”

Xie Changsheng froze, then began to shake his head violently like a possessed rattle-drum. “How is that possible? Beyond the mountains are more mountains, but your physique is the most ‘cow’ (awesome)! One look refreshes the mind, two looks prevent fatigue, three looks grant eternal youth…”

Gu Feiyi: “…”

That’s enough.

He silenced Xie Changsheng’s rambling and released his hand. However, the sensation of those fingertips gliding over his skin remained—light and warm. It caused the surrounding skin to grow hot.

Gu Feiyi closed his eyes, unconsciously savoring the sensation, and let out a heavy breath. “…Hoo.”

Xie Changsheng asked, “Are you asleep?”

Gu Feiyi opened his eyes. “No.”

His eyes fell upon the reddish mark he had sucked onto Xie Changsheng’s neck—a half-circle. He looked at the other, unmarked side. If the other side had a mark too, wouldn’t it look like a necklace around his throat?

As he was thinking, Xie Changsheng asked, “Have you eaten dumplings?”

Gu Feiyi snapped back to reality. “No.”

Xie Changsheng said, “I’ll go get some for you.” He hopped off Gu Feiyi’s knees and brought over a bowl of leftover dumplings.

Gu Feiyi originally had no appetite, but staring at Xie Changsheng’s pale neck, he suddenly felt a surge of hunger and finished the entire bowl. Once he swallowed the last bite, Xie Changsheng said to him, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.” Gu Feiyi set down the chopsticks. Remembering something, he pulled Xie Changsheng back onto his lap and asked, “Little Highness, do you have a New Year’s wish?”

“A wish?” Xie Changsheng said. “I want to be as beautiful as a flower!”

Gu Feiyi’s gaze swept over Xie Changsheng’s face. He replied, “You already are. Any other wishes?”

Xie Changsheng said without thinking, “Then I want to pass the postgraduate entrance exam and ‘land on shore’!”

Gu Feiyi’s brow twitched. He pressed his fingers to his temples and rubbed. “What is that? Any others?”

“I want to play with a phone, a computer, read novels, and I want Taiwan to return to the motherland soon.”

Gu Feiyi felt his headache worsening. “…”

“Little Highness,” he interrupted, “do you have any… serious wishes?”

Perhaps something he could actually grant?

“Serious?”

Xie Changsheng laughed and suddenly stood up. Gu Feiyi felt his arms go empty. He was about to tell the boy to sit back down, but he froze when he met Xie Changsheng’s eyes.

Those eyes, which were usually filled with chaotic vacancy, suddenly became clear in the candlelight. In those slightly drooping, affectionate eyes, a soft smile rippled—a gaze that seemed tender yet laced with a hint of helplessness.

He said softly, “I want to survive this year.”

In the next instant, the clarity vanished. Xie Changsheng collapsed onto the floor and began to laugh hysterically. “Hahahahahahahaha!”

Gu Feiyi said nothing. His narrow eyes widened slightly as he watched Xie Changsheng rolling around on the floor. He knew that the clarity in those eyes a moment ago might have just been a trick of the light.

And yet, it suited Xie Changsheng perfectly. That peerless face should have been paired with such an expression.

Gu Feiyi felt as if he had just glimpsed the rare moment of a night-blooming cereus opening. His heart skipped a beat, and his breathing grew rapid. It took a long time for him to recover from that fleeting moment of brilliance.

He reached out to pull the still-rolling Xie Changsheng up, his fingers slowly tracing the hickey he had left on the boy’s neck.

“What kind of wish is that?” Gu Feiyi said, enunciating every word. “The Little Highness will certainly survive this year.”