After Pretending to be an Idiot, I Was Targeted by the Cold-Blooded Zhangyin - Chapter 9

Gu Feiyi frowned imperceptibly.

The Old Emperor was utterly drunk. He had seized a dancing girl and pressed her down onto a minister’s table. He overturned the banquet dishes and tore at her clothing, intending to force himself upon her in front of everyone.

His cold gaze swept across the room. The other dancers were trembling, their faces streaked with tears, terrified that they would be next. Among the concubines, some looked on with envy, others with jealousy, and some turned their heads away, unable to watch. The officials kept their heads low, though their expressions varied—some showed pity, while others suppressed a dark excitement.

The First Prince, Xie Chengjing, had bloodshot eyes as he clenched his fists tightly. Meanwhile, the Second Prince, Xie Hemiao, leaned lazily against his seat, laughing under his breath with a murky look in his eyes.

Looking toward the palace entrance, Gu Feiyi caught sight of a red figure. However, in the next second, that red figure had their mouth covered and was dragged away by another person. Though it only lasted an instant, Gu Feiyi recognized him: it was Xie Changsheng.

Gu’s thoughts drifted for a moment, inexplicably recalling the way Xie Changsheng had been burying his head in food earlier. The irritability in his heart diminished slightly, only to be pulled back by the raspy, broken sobs of the dancing girl.

Casting a chilly look at the Old Emperor, Gu Feiyi walked to his side.

“Your Majesty.”

The Old Emperor looked up drunkenly. Seeing it was Gu Feiyi, his impatience instantly dissolved into a smile. He grabbed Gu Feiyi’s wrist and tried to pull him toward the dancer. “Feiyi, do you want a turn? Come…”

Gu Feiyi grabbed the Emperor’s wrist in return. Just as he was about to forcefully pull the Old Emperor up, a deafening crash echoed from the doorway.

Everyone turned at once. Xie Changsheng stood at the entrance, his hand still extended in a pushing gesture. The floor was covered in porcelain shards. The blue-and-white porcelain vase from the previous dynasty—standing half a person tall at the palace gate—had been smashed to pieces.

The Old Emperor jolted in shock. In the next moment, he saw Xie Changsheng wading through the shards to stand before him.

“Changsheng, you…”

Xie Changsheng knelt before the Emperor and grabbed his collar with both hands. Using his old trick, he began to shake the Emperor with a violence that disregarded whether the old man lived or died.

“Changsheng?!” The Emperor was shaken until he was dizzy and became agitated. “…Let go!”

Xie Changsheng actually stopped. But in the next second, he flopped onto the ground with a thud. He began rolling back and forth, kicking his legs wildly.

“Why does Father only dote on her and not me anymore?!” “I’m not your favorite son anymore!” “I want it too! I want it! I want it!”

As these words fell, the Old Emperor was stunned. The officials were stunned. Even the dancing girl, held in the Emperor’s arms with her clothes half-off, was stunned.

In truth, saying these lines made Xie Changsheng feel quite uncomfortable himself. This was a classic case of “hurting the enemy a thousand times while losing eight hundred of one’s own health.”

“Changsheng, what nonsense are you talking?!”

The Emperor was both furious and ashamed. He no longer cared about holding the dancer; he stood up unsteadily to pull at Xie Changsheng. Xie Changsheng stayed on the ground, refusing to get up, shouting incessantly.

He yelled things like, “Am I the person you love most?” and “The Overbearing Father Falls for Me,” and even “It’s better if the three of us just live happily together!”

The Emperor’s face turned several shades of the rainbow. Most of the officials kept their heads bowed so low it looked like they wanted to cut off their own ears. But there were those watching the spectacle. From the corner of his eye, Xie Changsheng saw Xie Hemiao leaning back in his seat, watching the drama with a look of pure entertainment, even taking a sip of wine at the best parts.

In that moment of distraction, he heard the Emperor’s teeth-gritting voice: “Changsheng, get up for Zhen!”

Xie Changsheng clung to the Emperor’s sleeve and wouldn’t let go, laughing as he tried to climb onto the old man’s back.

“Xie Changsheng!”

Following the Emperor’s roar came a calm, smiling male voice.

“His Majesty is drunk. Escort His Majesty back to his palace.”

Gu Feiyi’s voice was more effective than anything else. Eunuchs and maids immediately rushed forward to support the Emperor. Even the Emperor calmed down, obediently allowing the palace staff to lead him away.

Xie Changsheng lay on the ground, watching the Emperor’s departing figure with a dazed look. Then he scrambled up. “Wait for me! Where are you going?”

A hand caught Xie Changsheng by the waist. Turning around, he saw Xie Chengjing’s worried and helpless face. “Third Brother, you…”

With the Emperor’s departure, the banquet could no longer continue. The officials didn’t dare stay a moment longer and hurried away. Yang Luo rushed over to support Xie Changsheng.

“Little Highness, Little Highness, you… you…” Yang Luo’s eyes were red, and she couldn’t speak clearly. It was unclear if she was anxious, terrified, or both.

Xie Changsheng chuckled softly. “It was fun.”

As the words left his mouth, a hand struck the back of his head. Xie Changsheng turned back indignantly to see Fang Ling’s stern face. “Fun? You’re playing on the Emperor’s head; how many lives do you have to waste?”

Perhaps because Xie Changsheng had saved the dancer from her predicament, he felt Fang Ling’s attitude toward him had become a bit warmer. He gave Fang Ling a silly, honest smile. Fang Ling froze, rolled her eyes, and walked away.

Xie Changsheng: “…” I only smiled, I didn’t fart. Was that necessary?

Xie Chengjing was amused by their interaction but quickly returned to a worried expression. “Changsheng,” he sighed, “Next time… you must never defy Imperial Father like that again.”

The small pavilion next to the Hall of Mental Cultivation was Gu Feiyi’s residence. Inside the room, which smelled of plum blossoms, Gu Feiyi removed his outer robe. He could faintly smell the Emperor’s lingering scent of alcohol on it.

He threw it on the floor with loathing. “Get rid of it.”

Feng Wang acknowledged the order and immediately stepped forward to roll up the garment. “Master, shall I bring you more tea?”

Gu Feiyi raised his hand, and Feng Wang tactfully exited the room.

Dressed only in his inner robes, Gu Feiyi sat at the table. He propped his head with one hand and picked up a brush with the other. He had a habit of practicing calligraphy. His writing was clean and decisive; many had praised its beauty, and people often collected his work to flatter him.

However, Gu Feiyi’s mind was not on his practice tonight. He was casually copying the Classic of Tea, but the characters flowing from his brush changed from “The best grows in weathered rock, the average in gravelly soil” to “Xie Changsheng.”

Gu Feiyi didn’t even notice. His elegant brows were slightly furrowed in thought. He thought of Xie Changsheng’s actions at the banquet—foolish, chaotic, and yet leaving the Emperor completely helpless.

Recalling the Emperor’s mix of anger, anxiety, and fury—and then remembering how the Emperor had wept while resting, asking everyone, “How could my Changsheng turn out like this?!”—Gu Feiyi couldn’t help but curl his lips into a rare, genuine smile.

He was naturally handsome, and this smile, though mocking, made him look even more radiant.

He still remembered the sight of his mother’s clothes being torn in the street. He remembered her being wrapped in a straw mat and carried out through a side door, her body stiff. She had already begun to smell. The Old Emperor acted like a beast, and now the retribution had fallen upon his most beloved young son.

When the Emperor was ill recently, he hadn’t the energy to care for Xie Changsheng, hoping the boy’s “foolishness” would heal on its own. Xie Changsheng’s behavior today was like a slap to the face, forcing the Emperor to realize that his son was broken and would never recover.

The more he thought about it, the more refreshed Gu Feiyi felt. His eyes softened as he looked down at the paper. Seeing the name “Xie Changsheng” written over and over, his smile suddenly faded.

He had a concern. Using Xie Changsheng to anger the Emperor and watching father and son torment each other was certainly entertaining. But the Emperor might only tolerate this once or twice. What if it happened ten, twenty, or thirty times? Even if the Emperor doted on him enough to pluck the moon from the sky, that doting was based on the idea of Xie Changsheng being on his side. Now that Xie Changsheng was a fool and acting against him, the Emperor’s indulgence might reach its limit.

But what if…

An idea began to take shape in Gu Feiyi’s mind.

But what if I protect Xie Changsheng?

If he protected him and taught him how to oppose the Emperor, this play would become much longer, more intense, and far more interesting. And he would certainly enjoy the show much more.

Gu Feiyi’s eyes flickered with playful light. Suddenly, he tore up the rice paper, stood up, and grabbed his coat and cloak. After dressing slowly, he walked out the door.

Feng Wang, waiting outside, was startled. “Master, you’re going out?”

“Yes. No need to follow.”

If the palace by day was a blooming garden, by night it was a heavy cage. The sound of footsteps on the ground sounded like dragging shackles. Gu Feiyi walked all the way to Xie Changsheng’s Yuling Palace. Looking through the window, the hall was dim. It was late; Xie Changsheng should have been asleep.

He raised his hand and tapped on the window.

Xie Changsheng wasn’t actually asleep. He was rolling around under his covers in the dark. His reasons were complex:

First, shouting those things at the Emperor in public was incredibly embarrassing. In the dead of night, his sense of shame had kicked in. Unable to sleep, he could only roll around to vent his frustration.

Second, he was worried. Even a eunuch would be furious if their “affairs” were interrupted, let alone the Emperor. The Old Emperor loved him, yes, but he was a tyrant above all others and a man driven by lust before he was a father. Xie Changsheng hoped the Emperor would wake up and forget his “filial” display.

As he was wriggling on the bed, he heard a tap-tap on the window. He looked up instinctively and saw a shadowy figure outside. Xie Changsheng’s soul nearly flew out of his body, and he let out an instinctive cry of alarm.

The person outside heard the noise. A cool voice drifted in through the window: “Little Highness, do not be afraid. It is this servant.”

Xie Changsheng recognized the voice as Gu Feiyi’s. He let out another cry of alarm.

Gu Feiyi: “…”

The first cry was fine, as he was startled. But was the second cry because I am more terrifying than a ghost?