Captured by the Emperor After a Successful Faked Death - Chapter 10

Xie Chengyun returned to the Star-Plucking Pavilion, but the madam remained nowhere to be seen.

Coming here to retrieve Zhu Yunyin and take him back to the palace was not a particularly glorious affair, so he hadn’t brought many attendants with him. Fortunately, the Star-Plucking Pavilion was frequented by wealthy young wastrels, and no one recognized him. Even though a scene like the one just now had occurred, the guests were long accustomed to such things dramas of wives catching husbands or elders trapping children played out here every single day.

Xie Chengyun looked around and stopped a girl. “Where is your madam?”

The girl’s face flushed red. “The madam had urgent business and left in a hurry. If the young master needs anything, I can attend to you.”

Xie Chengyun smiled. “Then, please, be so kind as to lead me back to the private room I was just in.”

In the private room, Xie Chengyun took sips of clear wine while watching the girl play the zither. The music was like a clear spring in the mountains, and the girl’s temperament was elegant and refined. Truly, the Star-Plucking Pavilion lived up to its name—the girls within were like stars in the sky, unlike anything worldly. But regrettably, Xie Chengyun had no interest in such things. Once the song ended, he waved his hand, signaling the girl to leave.

No sooner had the girl left than Xie Chengyun stood up. He observed his surroundings carefully; the walls were real, and the room was an ordinary one. But Zhu Yunyin would not have lost control for no reason what was missing?

The train of thought he had struggled to piece together vanished. Xie Chengyun leaned against the window, catching the breeze in an attempt to clear his head, but the more he thought, the more chaotic his mind became.

Forget it, forget it. He was not the real Xie Chengyun; he lacked that brain and energy. He straightened his posture and headed downstairs.

But it was there that he encountered an acquaintance.

“Young Master!” A girl stood at the foot of the stairs, waving at him.

“You are?”

“The young master doesn’t recognize me? I sent you some books just a few days ago.”

At that, Xie Chengyun remembered; wasn’t this the girl who had been writing those bizarre storybooks? The girl was quite familiar, casually draping an arm around Xie Chengyun’s shoulder to pull him toward her table, where she began pouring him wine.

“What are you doing here?” Xie Chengyun was a bit bewildered; he felt like she was more familiar with this place than he was.

“Can’t I come here?” The girl handed him a cup of wine with a smile.

“But you’re a young lady—what are you doing coming to a pleasure house?”

“Who said a girl can’t visit a pleasure house?”

There was logic in that. Xie Chengyun silently shut his mouth.

Seeing him fall silent, the girl laughed. “I come here to gather material. But what about you? You look like a gentleman of integrity; why are you visiting a pleasure house?”

“I’m here to take a child home.”

“You have a child?!” The girl was shocked. “You look so young—how can your child be old enough to visit a pleasure house?”

Seeing the girl about to misunderstand, Xie Chengyun waved his hands, desperately trying to explain: “He’s not my child.”

But hearing that, the girl’s expression shifted from surprise to sympathy; heaven only knew what she was imagining in her head.

Xie Chengyun covered his face. The more he explained, the messier it got. Forget it, forget it. She didn’t know him anyway; if she misunderstood, she misunderstood—he wouldn’t lose a chunk of flesh over it.

The girl poured wine for him with a complicated expression, her eyes overflowing with pity. “We’ve met twice now; it’s fate. Let’s be friends. I’m Yulianlian—may I ask your name, young master?”

“Yulianlian? That’s a rare name. I thought it was a pen name.”

” ‘Pitying the suffering of all living things in the world’—I chose the name myself, so I have fewer inhibitions.”

The girl was about the same age as him, yet her words were full of the open-mindedness of someone who had seen it all.

“And you, young master?”

Damn it, how can I tell you my name, sister? Xie Chengyun felt a chill down his spine, and all his sympathy vanished. Should I tell you I’m the male lead in the pornographic books you write? Constantly either doing the deed or on the way to doing the deed? Do I not care about my reputation?

Xie Chengyun managed to reply: “I… my surname is Xie. Call me Xie Liuzhi.”

“Xie?”

“No, no, I mean the ‘Xie’ from Jieyuhua (a name for a beautiful flower).”

“I see. I thought you shared a surname with Prime Minister Xie. If that were the case, I would have had to ask if you were a relative of his.”

Seeing Yulianlian smile, Xie Chengyun couldn’t resist teasing her. “What if I really am a relative of Prime Minister Xie?”

“Prime Minister Xie has no relatives,” Yulianlian’s smile vanished as she looked at Xie Chengyun. “Either you are a liar, or you are Xie Chengyun himself. I should stay away from you. I treated you with sincerity, yet you deceived me.”

Xie Chengyun was surprised. “I can understand why you’d think I’m a liar, but why would you think I am Xie Chengyun himself?”

“An immortal told me so. But since you aren’t lying to me, then neither of those holds true.” Yulianlian smiled again and draped her arm over Xie Chengyun’s shoulder.

Xie Chengyun’s mood was complicated. Is she treating me like a sister, or as a free male model?

“But Young Master Xie, since you’ve come to the Star-Plucking Pavilion, how can you not taste our famous wine?”

“Oh?”

“Our finest Peach Blossom Brew.” Seeing Xie Chengyun was indifferent, Yulianlian held up a finger and whispered, “You won’t find this anywhere else. The Star-Plucking Pavilion’s Peach Blossom Brew is made from flowers plucked by the lips of beauties. They must be peach blossoms that bloomed right after the rain, covered in morning dew—not a single one of the five petals can be missing. Then, they are buried in the earth for twenty full years. By the time this wine is ready to drink, the beauty who plucked them is already past her prime.”

Xie Chengyun muttered internally: How are they still using these marketing tactics even in ancient times? No, wait, I almost forgot this isn’t a proper ancient world. This is a massive ‘pit’ of a novel with an ancient setting written by Shi Shini, so having modern things is normal—after all, the author is a modern person.

The Peach Blossom Brew arrived. The girl serving it wore peach blossom makeup, her slender hands presenting the wine. While other wines came in large jars, this was served in delicate pots. If Xie Chengyun hadn’t transmigrated, he would have remarked: In the end, it’s all just a marketing tax.

Yulianlian poured him a cup. “Taste it. How is it?”

Xie Chengyun lifted the cup; even before the wine touched his lips, the scent of peach blossoms and rich alcohol was already intoxicating.

Yulianlian laughed. “How is it? I didn’t lie to you, did I?”

“It truly is good wine,” Xie Chengyun said, fascinated by the drink, though he drank little because of his poor health and someone watching over him. “But this pot must be very expensive, right?”

“Not expensive, not expensive at all.”

Xie Chengyun widened his eyes—so she was a wealthy young lady after all.

“My storybooks have sold hundreds of thousands of copies; the royalties are enough for me to eat, drink, and be merry for a lifetime,” Yulianlian said, hands on her hips with pride.

Damn it, is writing pornographic novels this profitable? What should I do if I’m tempted?

“But,” Yulianlian whispered, “recently, there’s been a powerful ‘Yun-Yun’ fan who has been cracking down on all pairings besides their own. Especially the ‘Zhou-Xie’ pair—I hear people are now too afraid to sell storybooks about them. They get raided the moment they try. Fortunately, I write about everything, which is why I’ve managed to stay in business.”

“It seems writing storybooks isn’t easy for you, either,” Xie Chengyun couldn’t help but sigh.

“Indeed. Nothing that makes money is easy.” Now it was Yulianlian’s turn to lecture Xie Chengyun.

He was Yulianlian’s only male fan, and a tough-minded one at that, who dared to walk the streets holding Changle Palace storybooks without fearing worldly judgment. Yulianlian admired his formidable mental fortitude, which was why she treated him with such extra care. Seeing that he liked it, she ordered two more pots.

The Peach Blossom Brew looked light and clear, but in reality, it had a powerful kick. Three pots of it knocked Xie Chengyun right out, yet even when drunk, he didn’t flush, didn’t sway, and walked with a steady, upright posture. Even the girls of the Star-Plucking Pavilion couldn’t help but remark that they hadn’t seen such a high-tolerance young master in a long time.

In reality, Xie Chengyun was just holding on by sheer willpower—even as the world spun, he remained as unmoving as a mountain.

Yulianlian helped him out of the Star-Plucking Pavilion. “Young Master Xie, where do you live? I’ll send you home.”

Xie Chengyun turned his cement-coated brain and waved his hand. “It’s fine, my carriage is right at the door. I can go back on my own.”

With that, he turned and left, but after only two steps, he climbed into someone else’s carriage and was ruthlessly kicked out. Yulianlian had no choice but to apologize to the others on his behalf and help him identify his carriage one by one.

Fortunately, by the third one, it was indeed Xie Chengyun’s carriage. Xie’s servant thanked her repeatedly, helping the “unmoving, stable-as-the-High-Saint” Young Master into the carriage. Yulianlian stood there, watching the carriage pull away, lost in thought.

Xie Chengyun had poor health and had drunk too much; sure enough, by midnight, he was vomiting and burning with a fever.

Han Cizhi did not live in the Prime Minister’s residence; he had bought his own house to grow flowers and herbs, as he found the Prime Minister’s mansion too crowded and filled with the stench of court politics. The Prime Minister’s butler hurried over in the middle of the night to beg Han Cizhi to come. When Han Cizhi heard the reason, he was livid.

He kept telling them to just let him die, scolding Xie Chengyun the entire time he changed his clothes. His mouth was dry from the scolding, but he had to go—he couldn’t really watch Xie Chengyun die, could he? The affairs of the state relied on Xie Chengyun’s decision-making; although the little Emperor was slowly learning, he was still young and often lacked foresight.

When he reached the residence, Xie Chengyun was already delirious with fever. He was muttering nonsensical things: “Don’t,” “The fire is so big,” “This subject deserves death”—he spoke a string of fragmented sentences.

Han Cizhi looked at him mockingly: “You do deserve to die. If it weren’t for me, you would have been meeting the late Emperor three years ago.”

The servants in the manor lowered their heads, not daring to say a word; the silence was extreme. Han Cizhi spent the entire night sticking him with needles and forcing medicine down his throat until he finally broke the fever.

Yet Xie Chengyun remained trapped in his nightmares.

It’s so cold; it’s freezing my bones.

Someone was crying and shouting something he couldn’t understand, as if covered by a veil of fog nothing was clear. He could only make out Zhu Yunyin’s voice, shouting loudly: “Don’t, don’t.”

Don’t do what? Even the ‘Long Aotian’ male lead has things he cannot control?

With a sudden jolt, he opened his eyes; the dream was over.

Han Cizhi stood by the bedside, his dark circles nearly reaching his jaw.

Xie Chengyun felt guilty; he kept his mouth shut.

Han Cizhi had kept watch all night; having spent so long by Xie Chengyun’s side, he could tell what he was thinking just by his expression. But he was too tired to waste his breath scolding him further. Telling him to remember to take his medicine, he turned and went back to the guest room to sleep.

After finishing the medicine, Xie Chengyun grimaced in bitterness.

The servant handed him an invitation. “Sir, this was sent by Master Ning’s men. He says there is to be a ‘Winding Stream Wine-Cup’ poetry gathering and invites you to come and see. He knows you are busy with official duties and suggests you treat it as a chance to relax and listen to the thoughts of today’s young talents.”

The first half was a lie; the second half was the truth.

Master Ning had three thousand retainers and loved nothing more than to recruit talent. Thus, whenever Master Ning hosted an event, most people would give him the face and attend. Those in high positions would come to see if there was anyone worth using, while those with hidden talent could find their patron there. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

The poetry banquet was scheduled for the evening. Xie Chengyun collapsed onto the bed, thinking: I’ll just sleep a little longer, just a little. Once I’ve slept, I’ll get up and read the memorials…