After Pretending to be an Idiot, I Was Targeted by the Cold-Blooded Zhangyin - Chapter 5

The pastry, emitting the sweet fragrance of osmanthus, was pressed right against Xie Changsheng’s lips. He could feel its delicate texture. He stared blankly at Gu Feiyi, trying to discern some motive from the man’s face.

But there was nothing.

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.

Did Gu Feiyi apply poison to his fingers first and then smear it onto this osmanthus cake? No, even if he covers the sky with one hand, he wouldn’t commit such a blatant assassination in person. Or is he testing whether I’m truly a fool or just faking it?

Perhaps because the daze lasted too long, Gu Feiyi clearly grew impatient. He pressed the pastry a bit harder against his lips, a flash of irritation crossing his dark eyes: “Your Highness?”

His tone was cold and sinister. He was just like the headteacher Xie Changsheng feared most—the one who always appeared behind him just as he was about to sneak a peek at his phone. Recalling his headteacher, Xie Changsheng immediately lost his nerve.

He instinctively opened his mouth. Taking it right from Gu Feiyi’s hand, he ate the osmanthus cake.

The moment he realized Xie Changsheng had bitten the food from between his fingers, Gu Feiyi felt a renewed sense of novelty. He recalled a Concubine Li in the old Emperor’s harem years ago. At twelve years old, she was a child from a commoner’s family. She didn’t know a single character and couldn’t recite a line of poetry; when she was chosen by the Emperor and brought to the palace, she naively thought it was a good thing.

Concubine Li kept an orange stray cat. Once, when Gu Feiyi passed by, he saw her feeding it. The cat jumped up, bit the dried meat in her hand, wrinkled its nose, and ate with a “meow-meow” sound. The “crunch-crunch” of teeth cutting through food and the sound of gulping had somehow left a vivid impression in Gu Feiyi’s memory.

His cool gaze fell upon Xie Changsheng’s lips and teeth. He saw Xie Changsheng bite into the pastry, his teeth leaving a neat mark on the soft treat. Half the cake rolled into the prince’s mouth. The little prince, having become a fool, had even forgotten his table manners; he chewed loudly, eating with great gusto.

With a sweep of a crimson tongue and a press of cinnabar lips, he didn’t even miss the small crumbs clinging to his mouth. Gu Feiyi watched with interest. Seeing Xie Changsheng’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped down the crushed pastry, Gu Feiyi’s own throat subconsciously mimicked the motion.

He offered the remaining half in his hand to Xie Changsheng’s lips. However, Xie Changsheng refused to eat more, rejecting it dazedly: “Choking.”

Gu Feiyi reluctantly put down the remaining half-piece of pastry. He took his leave once more, and Xie Changsheng watched his receding back, still unable to figure out the intentions of this Palmprint Eunuch.

Xie Changsheng had been injured and “turned foolish” for one, two, three days now. The old Emperor doted on him and refused to let the news spread, but he couldn’t seal the gossiping mouths of others. Visitors arrived in an endless stream.

Xie Changsheng knew most of these people were just there to watch the spectacle. But he didn’t mind at all—this was a good thing for him. He wished the whole world knew he had become a fool.

The only person missing from these visits was the Little Marquis Fang.

Fang Ling, the Little Marquis. In the original book, he was someone the original host had bullied quite miserably. Fang Ling had numerous military achievements; he went to war for his father at fifteen and returned victorious at seventeen. Such a powerful figure naturally had pride and looked down on the original host.

The original host disliked Fang Ling just as much. He had once tied Fang Ling up in the Imperial Garden and whipped him publicly to humiliate him. Logically, now that Xie Changsheng had become a fool, Fang Ling should be the happiest person, yet he hadn’t visited once.

But on second thought, Xie Changsheng understood. Fang Ling wasn’t the type of person to kick a man when he was down. Still, Xie Changsheng quite wanted to see this “God of War” whose name alone could stop a child’s nighttime crying.

With that thought, he stood up with a yawn. It was nearly noon. It wasn’t that he had just woken up; he had been up for an hour or two. But as a fool, how could he have a regular schedule? He woke up in the middle of the night the day before, slept all day yesterday, and got up at noon today. His main strategy was to be unpredictable and sudden.

He was quite busy after waking up. To maintain his “fool” persona, Xie Changsheng frequently squatted in the small garden, diligently mixing mud. He mixed mud from the East Palace, the West Palace, the Harem, the Imperial Garden… He didn’t just play with the mud; he pinched it into figures. Small mud-men stood in neat rows by his feet. In his trance-like state of sculpting, he felt like the goddess Nüwa…

Hearing the movement of Xie Changsheng getting up, Yang Luo immediately came in to serve him. She helped him into his complex layers of clothing, hanging red gemstone ornaments all over his waist, body, and ears.

Xie Changsheng slurped his breakfast while inconspicuously pricking up his ears. Over the past few days, seeing that he no longer beat or scolded people like before—spending his days immersed in his own world—the attendants’ courage had grown significantly. They even dared to engage in idle chatter in front of him.

“The Little Highness looks more like a painting every day.” “Indeed, he seems much more lovable than before.” “By the way, I went out yesterday and ran into someone from Concubine Wu’s palace. She told me… everyone should be careful lately…”

The speaker pointed a finger toward the sky: “That one woke up today and only said he was tired of Concubine Wu and wanted to bring some new people into the palace.” “Sigh… no wonder I saw the Palmprint leaving the palace in a hurry this morning. So it was for this…”

Xie Changsheng nearly gagged on his porridge. The old Emperor was nearing death, yet his fatuousness remained unchanged. Even when he was sometimes too sick to get out of bed, it didn’t stop him from carrying out his debauchery. Indulging in sensual pleasures, wine ponds, and forests of meat—anyone the old Emperor took a fancy to, whether a farm girl or a minister’s wife, could not escape his clutches.

Back when he was reading the novel, every time Xie Changsheng saw a segment about the old Emperor, he would post a comment: “Dedicated to the Emperor: Cut it off, cut it off, cut it off…”

The more he heard, the less he could eat. Xie Changsheng stuck out his tongue, stood up, and ran off. A group of attendants immediately followed him, shouting “Highness, Highness!”

After wandering aimlessly through the palace for a while, Xie Changsheng found today’s “treasure land” for mud-playing. It was backed by a palace wall and shaded by trees; the wind couldn’t reach it, the sun couldn’t burn it, and the mud was soft so it wouldn’t make his hands hurt.

Xie Changsheng plopped down on the ground, stretched out his legs, and began to pinch mud. First, he made a little house, then a row of people hanging from a street lamp. Next was a three-headed cat gnawing on a seven-legged dog. Oh, and an octopus with countless giant tentacles.

Honestly, it was quite fun. Just as he was returning to his childhood innocence, Nüwa-incarnate Xie Changsheng felt the space in front of him suddenly darken. A pair of black boots appeared in his vision.

Xie Changsheng looked up. He saw Gu Feiyi’s narrow eyes looking down at him. There was a flicker of coldness and playfulness in them—and a trace of faint hostility.

“Your Highness.” Seeing Xie Changsheng look at him, he offered a greeting but didn’t even nod his head.

Xie Changsheng reached out a dazed hand. Gu Feiyi initially watched his movements with curiosity, but by the time he realized what the boy was doing, it was too late to retreat. He watched helplessly as Xie Changsheng smeared mud all over the hem of his robe.

Gu Feiyi: “…”

Xie Changsheng chuckled and clapped: “So pretty, pretty!”

Gu Feiyi turned to leave, but remembered the purpose of his visit. He reached his hand back. His personal eunuch, Feng Wang, immediately placed a package in his hand. Gu Feiyi’s long, jade-like fingers slowly opened the oil paper, revealing the contents.

They were several exquisite pastries.

Xie Changsheng glanced at Gu Feiyi’s movements out of the corner of his eye, a question mark slowly rising in his mind. What for? A picnic? What a mood.

Just as he was giggling and reaching out to smear more mud on Gu Feiyi’s robe, a pastry was suddenly pressed against his lips.

“Eat,” Gu Feiyi said.

Xie Changsheng was a bit dumbfounded. Wait, why is he feeding me again? It just so happened he only had two bites of porridge for breakfast before being nauseated by the Emperor’s news. The fragrant scent of the snack drifted into his nose, tempting him greatly.

Thinking that Gu Feiyi couldn’t possibly poison him in broad daylight, he opened his mouth and bit the soft pastry. It had a soft texture and a sweet taste, somewhat like peas but with an added floral fragrance. Xie Changsheng swallowed it in a couple of bites.

When he looked up again, he saw a sliver of a smile appearing on Gu Feiyi’s face.

The next second, another pastry was held to his lips. Xie Changsheng truly couldn’t understand what this world-shaking Palmprint Eunuch was thinking. While wondering, he opened his mouth again. This time it was a crispy pastry.

He ate it.

Watching Xie Changsheng’s bulging cheeks as he chewed, Gu Feiyi raised his eyebrows with pleasure. After feeding him in the hall yesterday, Xie Changsheng had overlapped in his mind with that stray cat Concubine Li used to keep.

He thought, No wonder Concubine Li wanted to keep a cat. And no wonder those officials in court loved to keep fish and birds. Sprinkle some fish food, pour some birdseed, and watch the fish swim over wagging their tails, their mouths opening and closing; watch the birds peck at their food. It really was a unique kind of fun.

Moreover, this “puppy” Xie Changsheng truly had a beautiful face. He was no less pleasing to the eye than a thousand-gold koi or a golden sparrow. Furthermore, this dazed, foolish eating manner was indeed interesting.

When he woke up this morning, he had ordered Feng Wang to prepare a package of pastries. After finishing his business, hearing that Xie Changsheng happened to be near his quarters, he came over out of curiosity.

Now, seeing Xie Changsheng finish the plum blossom crisp, Gu Feiyi still didn’t feel satisfied. He reached his fingers back and wiggled them. Another exquisite pastry was placed in his palm. He moved it toward Xie Changsheng’s lips.

Xie Changsheng shook his head. “Full.”

Gu Feiyi regretfully threw the remaining package back into Feng Wang’s arms. Having had his fun, he turned to leave, but his gaze was suddenly caught by something on the ground.

This is…

Grisly, ferocious mud figures that looked like they were killing each other. A three-headed cat gnawing a seven-legged dog. Seven divided by three leaves a remainder of one. Was this a hint from Xie Changsheng, the Third Prince, that he intended harm toward the Crown Prince?

And then there was that giant-tentacled creature he had never seen before, lying limply on the ground. Could it be a hidden reference to the unwell old Emperor?

Suddenly, Xie Changsheng reached out and crushed that giant-tentacled creature into a ball.

…What does this mean? An intent to grind the Emperor to dust?

Gu Feiyi’s thin lips gradually returned to a flat line. He looked at Xie Changsheng, his narrow, cold eyes filled with suspicion and wariness. After a pause, he spoke in a chilly voice.

“Little Highness, may we have a word?”