I Did Not Become Empress On Purpose - Chapter 4

Fang Youcheng once again bypassed the front gate.

Bai Ruofeng, who was being carried on his back as they vaulted over a wall, could not help but suspect the man’s peculiar habits. However, he had no time to ponder further before the bustling fireworks and street markets outside the wall swiftly captured his attention.

It was approaching midday. The streets were not overly crowded, yet the cries of hawkers and the flowing crowds brought the entire street vibrantly to life.

“Wow…” Bai Ruofeng found novelty in everything he saw, finding every little thing fascinating.

In contrast, Fang Youcheng showed very little enthusiasm. He simply carried the other on his back as they walked along the side of the street, his steps steady and unhurried on the dirt path, until Bai Ruofeng suddenly looped his arms around his neck and gave a playful backward tug. Pressing his cheek against Fang Youcheng’s, Bai Ruofeng pointed excitedly, “Brother Cheng, is that candied hawthorn on a stick?”

The bright red berries, coated in a translucent layer of sugar as thin as a cicada’s wing, were stuck on a straw target and gleamed crystal-clear in the sunlight.

Even with amnesia, he still loved sweets just as much. Fang Youcheng raised an eyebrow, and sure enough, he heard Bai Ruofeng eagerly declare, “I want to buy one!”

Basking in the warm sun while casually playing with his newly acquired candied hawthorn, Bai Ruofeng paid no heed to the curious stares of passersby, shouting out whenever he spotted something entertaining.

“Hey, a puppy!” Bai Ruofeng’s eyes locked onto the corner of a small stall, terrified of missing it as he hurriedly reined in Fang Youcheng’s neck. “Brother Cheng, hold on a second.”

Fang Youcheng gasped sharply from the chokehold, enduring his rising impatience as he muttered, “Bai Ruofeng, I am a man, not a horse.”

His reward was a hearty burst of laughter from Bai Ruofeng, who repeatedly apologized while silently urging him to hurry over.

The two stopped in front of a small stall that specialized in selling clay figurines. Seeing that the pair were dressed remarkably well, the vendor hurriedly stood up from the ground and enthusiastically introduced the most expensive and eye-catching pair of clay figurines placed right in the middle of a blue cloth.

Yet these two unusual guests clearly had no interest in that pair of figurines. Instead of the main display, Bai Ruofeng’s eyes were drawn to a lifelike little clay dog sitting on the edge of the blue cloth.

The tiny earthen puppy was stretching lazily, its front paws extended far forward, and its round little butt tipped with a perky tail. Even the minute hairs on its tail were rendered with astonishing detail.

“I want that dog.” Bai Ruofeng pointed straight at the finger-sized clay puppy.

The vendor clearly had not expected anyone to actually want that particular little dog. A conflicted expression crossed his face; the clay dog was something he had simply picked up by the roadside on his way into the city, completely worthless. He tried to dissuade them, “This dog is truly unworthy of your status, gentlemen. Perhaps you’d like to take a look at something else?”

“I want that dog.” Bai Ruofeng impatiently patted Fang Youcheng’s shoulder. “Brother Cheng!” If it hadn’t been for his inconvenient legs, he would have loved to jump down and grab it himself.

Fang Youcheng, who had remained silent all this time, showed no hurry whatsoever, leisurely freeing one hand to search for silver coins. This was supposed to be a completely mundane task, but a sudden thought crossed Fang Youcheng’s mind, causing him to pull his hand back out of his pouch and declare with a straight face, “My purses were completely emptied out by you today.”

“How is that possible?” Confused, Bai Ruofeng instinctively slipped his hand into Fang Youcheng’s outer robe to check for a purse just as naturally as if it were his own.

Wonderful, it was still bulging. He patted Fang Youcheng’s shoulder, silently urging him onward. “You still have money. I want that little dog.”

“But this is all my hard-earned blood and sweat money,” Fang Youcheng, whose wealth rivaled nations, lifted his chin and brazenly lied. “What do I stand to gain by buying you a puppy?”

“If you won’t buy it, then fine. I’m a marquis now, surely I’m not broke?” Defiant, Bai Ruofeng quietly patted his own robes, only for his pupils to dilate in shock as his expression froze: Miscalculation! He had actually forgotten to bring money out with him.

What if someone else bought the puppy while they were hesitating? Bai Ruofeng felt a twinge of dilemma. “Then consider it a loan from you, how about that?”

Fang Youcheng, playing the role of the fisherman reeling in his catch, smoothly pivoted to his ultimate objective. “A loan? Given our relationship, I suppose that can be arranged. But I don’t need you to pay me back, as long as you agree to do one small favor for me.”

“Hey.” Recognizing the obvious trap, Bai Ruofeng voiced his skepticism. “Are you deliberately digging a pit for me? Isn’t that a bit too blatant?”

“How can you call this a pit?” Fang Youcheng self-righteously clarified with a hint of amusement. “It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything illegal or heinous.”

Seeing Bai Ruofeng visibly caught in a dilemma, Fang Youcheng shifted his stance as if ready to leave. “It seems you didn’t want it that much after all.”

“Wait! Buy it!” Knowing full well he was being played, Bai Ruofeng couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

Once the puppy was purchased, Bai Ruofeng rolled it back and forth in his hands, pinching its head one moment and its legs the next, clearly unable to put it down.

He pointed to a small stall set up near the city gate ahead. “I’m hungry, let’s go eat some tofu pudding.”

The stall had only two sets of tables and chairs. With very few customers at this hour, an older woman was busy washing bowls off to the side.

After the woman brought over two bowls of tofu pudding, Bai Ruofeng finished his sweet and refreshing treat, his eyes darting mischievously before he immediately started clamoring for the hawthorn pastry they had passed by earlier.

Unable to withstand the sparkling, expectant gaze fixed on his sleeve, and reasoning that the pastry stall wasn’t far away, visible with just a glance back, Fang Youcheng stood up and strode off.

The moment Fang Youcheng was sent away, the expectant look on Bai Ruofeng’s face gradually faded into indifference. He traced the inconspicuous marking on the clay puppy’s hindquarters, examining it with meticulous attention.

Why would anyone here know the logo of the studio he founded in his past life? Although crude, the pattern was an exact match. Bai Ruofeng rubbed the emblem on the small clay dog, deep in thought.

Should he break it open now or wait? Bai Ruofeng hesitated, entirely consumed by curiosity. He desperately wanted to know what that symbol meant. Could someone else have crossed over into this world alongside him?

He raised his eyes to check on Fang Youcheng, seeing him currently accepting the pastry from the vendor. Meanwhile, the older woman was washing bowls a couple of meters away, bending over her basin. Although people strolled by in the distance, they were all ordinary townsfolk, and no one was lingering suspiciously close. Concluding it was safe, he braced himself against the table, leaned over to grab a stone, and sat back up.

Pressing the clay puppy flat against the wooden table with his left hand while gripping the stone tightly in his right, he tightened his forearm and with two or three sharp, effortless strikes, cleanly smashed away half of the puppy’s body.

A tightly rolled slip of paper was revealed inside the hollow interior of the clay dog.

Discarding the remnants of the puppy, Bai Ruofeng gently blew the fine clay dust off the miniature paper cylinder and unfolded the note.

A pebble shot out from an unknown direction, striking the exact pressure point on the back of his hand with blinding speed. The sudden numbness rippled up his entire arm, causing him to drop the paper as a blurred figure swooped in to snatch it away.

An unknown stranger had materialized out of nowhere, seizing Bai Ruofeng’s note with incredible speed before turning to bolt.

Bai Ruofeng watched helplessly as the intruder sprinted past him with wind at his heels, making a dash to leap over the wall and escape.

This person knew martial arts. Bai Ruofeng’s pupils constricted violently. “Brother Cheng!”

Before the shout had even fully left his lips, two martial arts experts descended from behind the wall near the fleeing thief, striking out simultaneously. A single palm blast to the thief’s chest sent him hurtling downward from the heights to crash directly onto the ground right in front of Fang Youcheng.

Fang Youcheng let out a cold, mocking scoff. Even though the intruder was already utterly incapacitated, he cruelly landed a vicious kick to the man’s right shoulder, launching him several meters away and causing him to vomit a mouthful of blood. Leisurely strolling over, Fang Youcheng brought his foot down like a falling boulder onto the thief’s chest, squeezing out a raspy, agonizing shriek.

Realizing escape was impossible, the man engaged in a desperate final struggle against the crushing weight on his chest, shoving the paper slip straight into his mouth to swallow it whole. Before he could even gulp it down, Fang Youcheng’s face darkened as he stomped on the man’s throat and forcefully dislocated his jaw with a few practiced motions.

Skilled and ruthless, Fang Youcheng reached two fingers deep into the bloody throat to probe, managing only to hook out a clump of chewed-up paper pulp. Black ink and white paper stained with fresh blood blended together, rendering it utterly beyond recovery.

Mindful of the surrounding townspeople who had noticed the commotion and were now staring in terrified shock, Fang Youcheng casually wiped his fingers clean on the man’s robes before handing him over to the two hidden guards who stepped forward, letting them drag the wretched figure away into the shadows.

Only then did Bai Ruofeng realize that those two sudden arrivals were not righteous heroes stepping in to help the helpless, but were Fang Youcheng’s own subordinates all along.

Fang Youcheng sauntered back toward Bai Ruofeng, holding out the freshly retrieved, chilled hawthorn pastry with an expression that suggested absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Here, freshly taken out and still icy. Eat slowly.”

In broad daylight, Fang Youcheng could commit such acts of blatant violence without a soul daring to question him, even causing the onlookers to give them a wide berth. Bai Ruofeng accepted the pastry with a complicated expression. Never before had he so profoundly realized that this place did not belong to his world.

“That’s what you get for trying to ditch me.” Noticing his dazed and desolate state, Fang Youcheng paused for a beat before flicking him lightly on the forehead, shattering whatever melancholy had just begun to gather. “You knew full well your legs were inconvenient, yet you still dared to snoop around for information in the middle of a market. I never took you for such a daring fool.”

“Who knew public security around here was actually this hardcore… wait, no,” Bai Ruofeng, genuinely astonished by the local lawlessness, asked, “You already knew about the symbol on that puppy?”

Fang Youcheng countered, “We grew up together. Is there anything about you that I don’t know?”

“Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, Fang Youcheng had never pretended to be a mild-mannered, gentle soul. At that moment, a cryptic, ambiguous smile tugged at the corners of his pale lips, while the flesh beneath his eyes accentuated the heavy, menacing gloom in his gaze, projecting an overwhelmingly arrogant aura. “You didn’t ask.”

If not for his paralyzed legs, Bai Ruofeng would have loved to plant a solid kick straight into his shin. “How are they going to deal with that person?”

“We can’t leave loose ends.” Fang Youcheng stated it as casually as deciding the weather, sealing the man’s fate in a few brief words. “He saw what was written on the note. Keeping him alive would only invite trouble back to our doorstep.”

“Sounds like you actually know who sent me that message.” Bai Ruofeng took a bite of the hawthorn pastry, casting a suspicious glare at Fang Youcheng.

Fang Youcheng’s expression stiffened slightly. Pulling his front lapels aside, he seated himself right beside Bai Ruofeng and stared silently toward the city gate.

“Hey!” Annoyed, Bai Ruofeng found the mysterious note immensely intriguing. Now that the note had been destroyed, the only person who held any clues was stubbornly refusing to speak.

Seeing him play hard to get, Bai Ruofeng used the blunt wooden stick of his hawthorn skewer to poke at Fang Youcheng’s cheek, indenting shallow little pits. “Talk!”

In response, Fang Youcheng turned his head and bit down, swallowing the entire piece of hawthorn right off Bai Ruofeng’s stick. Startled, Bai Ruofeng clenched his fist and delivered a heavy punch straight to Fang Youcheng’s shoulder, causing the man’s body to sway imperceptibly.

Deeply displeased, Bai Ruofeng accused the thief of a crime: “You stole my food.”

Expressionless, Fang Youcheng replied, “It’s already down.”

“Then spit it back out!”

Turning back with a look of mild astonishment, Fang Youcheng paused. “…Allow me to remind you, I was the one who bought those pastries.”

Bai Ruofeng sneered, using two fingers to pinch the man’s chin. Though his tone remained light and unhurried, his handsome face radiated an intense, possessive aura. “Things given to me naturally belong to me. Brother Cheng, are you looking for a beating?”

“So fierce, and all over a piece of hawthorn pastry?” After a brief silence of amusement, Fang Youcheng let out a soft laugh and pulled down the hand pinching his jaw. “You really haven’t changed, still an absolute little tyrant.”

“Then answer my question from earlier.” Releasing his grip, Bai Ruofeng let out a cold huff.

Knowing better than to tease him past his limits, Fang Youcheng leaned close to his ear. “Aside from me, only your family members recognize that logo.”

My family members? Why would they know about my studio from my past life… Bai Ruofeng felt his brow twitch, a half-formed, startling suspicion beginning to take root in his mind.

Both Old Steward Yuan and Bai Yueying had stated that the Marquis and Marchioness had died in battle while the heir had been captured by Northern Yue. Massaging his brow, Bai Ruofeng wondered if his eldest brother, the heir, had sent him a message all the way from afar. If his brother was trapped deep in enemy territory and had just had some crucial piece of intelligence lost because of this…

The mere possibility filled Bai Ruofeng with sudden regret. “Brother Cheng, could it be—”

A warm, heavy hand landed on top of his head, giving his hair a couple of rubs. Looking up at Fang Youcheng, he saw the man’s expression remain entirely unchanged. “Based on the intelligence available to me, that’s highly unlikely. Whose message it actually was remains undetermined for now, so don’t jump to conclusions. I’ll let you know the moment there’s any news.”

“Hmm.” Though he offered verbal assent, worry still lingered in the back of Bai Ruofeng’s mind. His brows knitted into a slight frown as he sat in silence, looking thoroughly preoccupied. His skin was pale, and his lean cheekbones lacked a soft roundness, unintentionally casting him in the mold of an immature, brooding adolescent. He looked rather like a stray puppy worrying all by itself, capable of extracting a strange, superfluous wave of tender pity from anyone who laid eyes on him.

This sentiment was felt most acutely by Fang Youcheng, who kept his gaze fixed on Bai Ruofeng’s shifting moods.

Whether it was his temperament, preferences, or manner of handling things—Fang Youcheng looked away, absentmindedly turning a chipped teacup on the table as he calculated: Why did Ruofeng suddenly seem to have regressed to how he was two years ago?

He had returned to the period when the Marquis and Marchioness of Suppressing North were still alive. Back then, the doted-upon Second Young Master Bai was high-spirited, unrestrained, utterly charming, riding proud horses in red robes to take in all the blossoms of Chang’an in a single day.

He had not yet experienced the loss of his parents or the disappearance of his elder brother, nor had he ever donned heavy armor, drilled bitterly in martial arts, or rushed off to the northern frontier. The Bai Ruofeng who had hurriedly shouldered the heavy burdens of state and country possessed a hardened cynicism born from the battlefield, his eyes clouded over by the chilling indifference of bloodshed.

It was as if that vibrant, living youth had been frozen in time, left behind overnight during the winter festivals of the twentieth year of Chongde.

If… Fang Youcheng raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Bai Ruofeng’s ear, a radically different thought suddenly blooming in his mind. If possible, wouldn’t it be better for Bai Ruofeng if he simply forgot those painful past memories entirely?

He hoped the other could remain forever carefree, keeping time locked permanently on that year’s Second Young Master Bai. Now that he possessed ample strength to protect the person he cared about, there was no need to ever watch Bai Ruofeng charge into the front lines again.

Noticing the other’s low spirits, Fang Youcheng withdrew his hand and asked, “The cherry blossoms are in full bloom along the moat, and it’s quite lively there right now. Care to go take a look?”

“Cherry blossoms?” Bai Ruofeng tilted his head, his eyes instantly lighting up.

Fang Youcheng hadn’t lied; the moat was indeed blanketed in blooming cherry blossoms. Stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sea of pink and white looked like an immortal realm on earth.

Numerous carriages belonging to wealthy and noble households were parked along the banks of the moat, clearly all come to enjoy the floral views. Patrol units from the city guard made regular rounds to ensure safety.

With midday approaching, quite a few picnickers had settled down under the trees along the riverbank. People reciting poetry, playing the zither, or practicing sword forms were everywhere. Groups of young aristocratic ladies out on excursions, wishing to avoid intrusion, would rope off trees to enclose a perimeter around their picnic spots, draping their outer garments over the lines as makeshift curtains. Through the occasional gap in the fabric, one could catch glimpses of smiling, graceful silhouettes within.

Along the way, Bai Ruofeng caught numerous stares directed their way: an elderly grandfather with completely white hair and beard, a middle-aged uncle sporting twin mustaches out with his entire family, and many extraordinarily young individuals dressed in fine garments. Upon laying eyes on the two of them, every single one widened their eyes in utter horror, looking as panicked and bewildered as if they had just witnessed a zombie leaping straight out of a coffin.

Completely ignoring those people, Fang Youcheng steadily carried him past them on his back.

Curious about their extreme reactions, Bai Ruofeng tentatively waved at one of the young men. “Hi?”

The fellow became so frightened his legs turned to jelly, tumbling straight down onto his rear.

Depressed, Bai Ruofeng rubbed his own face. “Brother Cheng, do I look that terrifying?” While he didn’t fancy himself an peerless, drop-dead handsome immortal, he certainly wasn’t a green-faced, ferocious monster either. How could he possibly scare someone into such a state?