I Did Not Become Empress On Purpose - Chapter 3

“What? You don’t believe me?” Fang Youcheng’s gaze was deep and unfathomable, dark like gathering storm clouds. Beneath the surface, his heart beat rapidly against his ribs from the tension, nearly leaping out of his throat at the surprise on the face before him.

Yet the dark clouds were ultimately dispelled by golden sunlight.

“Hahahahaha!” A burst of hearty laughter cut off whatever Fang Youcheng was about to say next, firmly shoving his racing heart back down into his chest. He unclenched his fists, lowering his gaze only to see the crescent nail marks deeply indented in his palms.

The pent-up frustration in Fang Youcheng’s chest abruptly dissipated, leaving him feeling rather helpless as he gazed at the irrepressibly joyful person sitting in the wooden tub.

“Brother Cheng, were you holding back malice just to prank me? I certainly don’t like men, and besides—” Having laughed his fill, Bai Ruofeng scooped up the bathing bean and tossed it to the side. The eyes he lifted were bright, glinting with a distinct trace of pride and certainty. “I have amnesia, not dementia. Even if such a scenario were real, the moment I first woke up, your reaction shouldn’t have been like that.”

With ironclad logic, he patted Fang Youcheng’s arm with a wet palm, looking quite pleased with himself. “You’re still a bit too inexperienced if you want to trick me.”

“So you saw right through it.” Fang Youcheng masked a trace of gnashing teeth behind a tone of profound regret. Frowning, he quickly scrubbed away the remaining lather. “I was just teasing you. Who told you to forget all about us? We grew up together, survived countless perilous situations, and what promises did you make to me? Bai Ruofeng, how could you say you’d forget and just do it?”

He had initially meant only to sustain his cover story, but as he spoke, the turbulent emotions pent up in his chest inadvertently bubbled to the surface.

Before Bai Ruofeng could reply, Fang Youcheng realized he was letting slip too much resentment and hastily turned aside to conceal his lack of composure, quickly resuming his usual expression of unfathomable calm. “It’s washed clean. The water is getting cold, so hurry up and get out.”

Before he could take even two steps, the hem of his garment was once again grabbed from behind.

“Hey, don’t leave yet!”

Fang Youcheng thought the other man was still badgering him over that awkward topic. All the turbulent emotions, suppressed and boiling ever since he had first heard of Bai Ruofeng’s severe injuries, now burst forth. Disappointment, terror, distress, grievance, and anger surged together, leaving him unable to untangle whether he was more resentful toward Bai Ruofeng or angry at himself for agreeing to let him go to the northern border in the first place. Turning around aggressively, he demanded, “Bai Ruofeng, you really…”

“If you leave, how am I supposed to get out?”

Their voices overlapped for a brief moment, dissolving into a short silence of mutual staring.

Bai Ruofeng leaned over the rim of the tub to look at him, seemingly catching a glimpse of something complex beneath the other’s expression, though he merely raised an eyebrow in a radiant smile that could chase away the gloomiest shadows in anyone’s heart.

He nonchalantly extended an arm toward the man standing alone by his side. “What are you daydreaming about? Hurry up and pull me out.”

After a long pause, Fang Youcheng sluggishly extended his hand, letting it rest loosely in Bai Ruofeng’s calloused palm.

What was this supposed to be? Bai Ruofeng felt a brief moment of confusion, about to explain that he wanted someone to help pull him up rather than engage in some hand-holding game.

Instead, he heard Fang Youcheng say with a hint of nostalgia, “When we first met, you reached out your hand to me just like this. Back then, though, your hands were chubby.” He squeezed the rough skin beneath his palm. “Now, even the back of your hand has scars.”

“Oh? Did I perform some heroic deed worthy of songs and legends? To think it leaves Brother Cheng so deeply impressed.” Bai Ruofeng bantered playfully, giving the man’s fingertips a casual pinch.

Hearing this, the smile at the corners of Fang Youcheng’s mouth widened further, taking on a somewhat eerie tint. Maintaining the exact distance and posture, he gripped Bai Ruofeng’s teasing fingers and gave a sharp tug, instantly hauling the man straight up out of the tub as cascading droplets of water pattered back onto the surface.

A warm, solid body collided squarely into his arms. Wrapping an arm tightly and domineeringly around the other’s slender waist to support his upper body, Fang Youcheng lowered his phoenix eyes, which were now suffused with warmth. “Wrong. It was a certain little idiot who tumbled right into a trap I specifically dug to catch prey.”

The rising steam had dampened their clothes, and the body heat of a person warmed by hot water pressed closely against him through the thin spring garment.

Fang Youcheng’s palm tightened slightly. The skin and flesh beneath his hand possessed a resilient strength, but it also forced him to look closely at the shallow and deep scars scattered across that torso, newly added over the past few fleeting years. Just a brief glance added a heavy layer of gloom to the upturned corners of his eyes.

The person he had always cherished had been subjected to such unsightly traces by those damned enemies.

However, Bai Ruofeng’s focus was clearly elsewhere. Tilting his head, he cast a light, casual glance at the other man. “Idiot? Who are you calling an idiot?” Just as Bai Ruofeng was about to retort, a sudden sensation caught his attention.

Lowering his head to take a puzzled look, Bai Ruofeng abruptly reached out and pressed against Fang Youcheng’s waist with a look of pure curiosity. “Brother Cheng.”

“Hmm?”

“Your weapon is poking into me.”

“What weapon? Are you talking about—” The unyielding, forceful dominance Fang Youcheng usually projected was instantly blown to smithereens by that single sentence, leaving his mind blank with shock.

The weapon Bai Ruofeng spoke of was genuinely just a cold piece of steel. What man didn’t love weapons? Unable to resist reaching out to fumble at it, he said with absolute conviction, “It’s the legendary soft sword, isn’t it? You wrapped the soft sword around your waist, didn’t you? Take it down and let me have a look.”

Though he long knew this fellow was stubbornly single-minded in certain aspects, wondering if he would ever become enlightened in this lifetime, Fang Youcheng didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or feel a pang of regret. Feeling a mild headache coming on, he commanded, “Let go.” He rubbed his temples. “The blade is sharp. I’ll take it off and show it to you later, you are not allowed to blindly fiddle with it yourself.”

After much effort, he managed to change Bai Ruofeng into fresh clothes and tidy up his long hair. Sitting in the wheelchair, Bai Ruofeng was engrossed in studying the newly acquired soft sword with fond fascination. With every strand of hair and every inch of fabric meticulously arranged, he looked the absolute picture of a pampered young master of noble birth.

By contrast, the man who had originally exuded regal dignity looked utterly disheveled; his sleeves were rolled up high for chores, his outer robe was stained with dark, uneven water splotches from top to bottom, and even his jade-adorned belt had been stripped away, the weapon within it now serving as a plaything in another’s hands.

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of cold tea to soothe the burning heat in his chest, Fang Youcheng stared fixedly at Bai Ruofeng, though his thoughts had already drifted far away.

If this fellow’s legs were fully functional, there was no way he would ever sit this neatly and impeccably.

Yet, despite his dignified and handsome appearance right now, Fang Youcheng suddenly found himself missing the way the man used to look with his collar disheveled, lying lazily in a tree and plucking flowers to toss at him.

A fresh phoenix flower struck the person clad in apricot-yellow dragon-patterned robes. Interrupting his furious reprimand directed at a group of incompetent subordinates, Fang Youcheng froze, frowned, and shifted his gaze away from the quivering, quail-like crowd, turning it gloomily toward the source of the blossom.

In the imperial garden stood a century-old phoenix tree. Its leaves resembled the feathers of a divine phoenix, and its blossoms matched the crown of a scarlet bird, their blazing red leaves and petals glowing with a dazzling brilliance. Yet the red robes worn by Bai Ruofeng far outshone the vibrant phoenix blossoms in blinding splendor.

The moment he caught sight of the newcomer, the hostility on Fang Youcheng’s face vanished completely.

“Hey! Brother Cheng.” The youth’s heroic face was lightly sheened with sweat, his sword-like brows slanted upward, and a pair of rakish, unrestrained peach-blossom eyes reflected solely the figure in the apricot-yellow robe. Clinging to a thick branch to haul himself up, he waved cheerfully at Fang Youcheng, his radiant, open smile as clean as sunlight, his voice pitched high. “Want to go horse racing together this afternoon?”

The shadow of the youth in red dissolved into the wind before his eyes, leaving behind only the young man dressed in moonlight-white, seated quietly in a wheelchair while playing with a soft sword.

When on earth would he recover his memories? Fang Youcheng pinched his fingertips tightly, a heavy frown knitting his brows. Even the finest imperial physicians in the imperial hospital could find no underlying cause, offering only the vague prognosis of letting him recuperate properly, perhaps his memories will return as his injuries heal.

Anxious and unsettled panic burned like wildfire in the depths of his chest, tormenting the only person who still clung to the memories of the past.

So be it. As long as he returned safely, nothing else mattered. Drawing a long breath that threatened to split the skin of his fingertips and draw blood, Fang Youcheng wiped the trace away nonchalantly against his dark sleeve.

Little did he know, Bai Ruofeng, currently engrossed in inspecting the soft sword, had completely lost interest in the blade itself.

The moment he drew the soft sword halfway from its scabbard, Bai Ruofeng caught the reflection of a familiar pair of eyes shimmering across the glittering silver blade.

The full, peach-petal-shaped contours of his eyes carried a misty, affectionate charm, and his pupils shone as bright as yellow-dragon jade, yet his slanted brows counteracted the softness of his gaze, lending a sharp, aggressive edge to his features.

Having watched those eyes grow up since childhood, there was no way he could fail to recognize them. Puzzled, Bai Ruofeng tilted the angle of the blade, scanning his own face from top to bottom repeatedly. The more he looked, the tighter his brows locked together: How could this face be an exact, flawless match to his own?

Even across different spaces and times, could two people in this world truly look identical?

Seeing the other person deeply engrossed in play, and noting that the sky outside the window was approaching midday, Fang Youcheng rose with the intent to slip away quietly. Based on his experience, this fellow wouldn’t grow tired of a new toy for at least a few days.

He had barely taken two steps when he felt the familiar, dreaded tugging force behind him. Turning around, he predictably locked eyes with Bai Ruofeng’s bright, shining, light-colored pupils brimming with anticipation.

“Brother Cheng!” Having successfully tasted sweetness earlier, Bai Ruofeng now acted without any reservations, looking at his compliant, responsive “new toy” with eyes full of hope. “Where are you going?”

“Let go, I’m going home.” Fang Youcheng truly had no defense against this man. Whether before or after his amnesia, the fellow seemed to instinctively know how to manipulate him.

“Then take me to your home to play, please!” Bai Ruofeng’s tone pitched upward cheerfully as he casually tossed the soft sword back onto the table. “I must have been to your place before, right? Take me there again, maybe my memories will come back if you do!”

Fang Youcheng waged a difficult battle of resistance against the man’s increasingly practiced act of coquetry. “No.”

“Brother Cheng! I even called you brother. We’re such close buddies, why won’t you take me along?”

“No.” Fang Youcheng still harbored a lingering obsession that Bai Ruofeng might recover his memories entirely on his own, as that would at least prove he held a place in the other’s heart, regardless of what form of emotion it took.

One standing and one seated, both deadlocked in a standoff.

Facing this impasse, Bai Ruofeng lowered his head, casting a shadowy fringe of long eyelashes across his eyelids. He patted his own knees, letting out a self-deprecating sigh as if comforting himself, “Ah, if we aren’t going, then we aren’t. After all, I’m just a cripple now, unable even to step outside without someone’s help. If I went to your house, your parents would probably wish you stayed as far away from a useless person like me as possible.”

Fang Youcheng’s unyielding expression steadily melted away, his gaze dropping to ponder the other’s legs.

Seeing the man remain silent, Bai Ruofeng pouted, using his own strength to spin the wheelchair around as he made a laborious show of trying to turn away.

However, Fang Youcheng pressed a hand down on the armrest to halt his movement.

Unflustered, Bai Ruofeng merely raised an eyebrow with the detached amusement of a spectator, his expression clearly daring the other to show his hand. Fang Youcheng turned around, wrapped the soft sword back around his waist, and abruptly dropped into a half-squat right in front of him.

Startled by the motion, Bai Ruofeng’s fingers tightened reflexively on the armrest as a sudden wave of springtime warmth bloomed across his chest. Though wearing a broad smile, he feigned ignorance. “What is Brother Cheng doing?”

“Get on,” Fang Youcheng commanded with a furrowed brow. “I’ll carry you out.”

“To your house?”

“No.” Unexpecting that Bai Ruofeng would fixate so persistently on his home, Fang Youcheng paused for a moment. “My place isn’t very convenient right now, I’ll take you somewhere else that’s fun.”

“As long as I get to go out and roam around, I’m not picky.” Showing no politeness whatsoever, Bai Ruofeng threw himself directly onto Fang Youcheng’s broad back, winding one arm around his neck with a wide smile while waving the other forward. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Time to go play!”

The impact landed solidly. Fang Youcheng nearly stumbled forward from the sudden momentum of the collision.

Regaining his balance, he straightened up, bounced the person on his back upward by a fraction to secure him properly, and steadied his knees. “Stop fidgeting.”

Despite the warning, Bai Ruofeng’s excitement showed no signs of abating. Pressing against Fang Youcheng’s shoulder, he smoothed down the man’s ruffled sideburns and rambled somewhat incoherently, “Brother Cheng, when we first met earlier, I already thought your face looked familiar. Now it doesn’t feel strange at all.” He capped off his thought, “You’re so good to me, I could even take you as my sworn older brother! When you grow old later, I’ll definitely take care of your old age—”

“Pfft!” Fang Youcheng cut him off swiftly. “Returning kindness with enmity, who wants to be your sworn older brother? Bai Ruofeng, you listen to me carefully.”

“Huh?”

“I am only one year older than you!”

Only one year older? Bai Ruofeng’s brain stalled.

He had assumed Fang Youcheng was some kind of warm-hearted elder brother figure; otherwise, why would he show such infinite patience? If it were his usual peers from back home, they would all be witty frenemies eager to act like each other’s fathers.

Yet, after quieting down for a moment, he reasoned it out himself: interpersonal dynamics varied from person to person, so perhaps Brother Cheng possessed an elder-brother-like warmth and willingness to care for others despite his youthful appearance.

An elder brother? Warm-hearted? If the civil and military officials of the imperial court ever caught wind of Bai Ruofeng’s assessment of Fang Youcheng, every single one of them would likely vomit white foam in sheer terror and have their souls jolted out of their bodies. Which single word in that evaluation could ever be associated with the new emperor, who routinely ordered the imperial guards to drag dissenting officials away at the slightest disagreement during court sessions?