Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 28

The sixth year of Huangxing, March. The spring light was perfect, and peach blossoms drifted like snow. On Zhuque Avenue, the clamor of the crowd was deafening. The thundering drums and cheers seemed powerful enough to shake the window frames of the wine shops right off their hinges.

Yan Buzhuo leaned lazily against a window, stretching out his arm to give a long, weary yawn. Below, the newly graduated scholars, the Jinshi, were parading through the streets on horseback in a grand spectacle of celebration. To Yan Buzhuo, however, it was just noisy.

Yan Buzhuo, or rather, Yan Yufei, was originally a 21st century student about to start his freshman year of university. On the day he was supposed to report to school, a car accident occurred. He was subsequently bound to System 888 and transported here, to a strange dynasty he had never heard of in history.

Despite his lack of familiarity with this specific era, Yan Buzhuo had witnessed the grandeur of imperial examination results being posted in countless television dramas. As a modern man inhabiting the body of the Heir to the Marquess of Yongjia, he found it difficult to muster any genuine interest in this ancient festival. He looked upon everything with a touch of condescending scrutiny.

“System,” he said, lightly poking the blue orb floating on his shoulder that only he could see. “How much longer are they going to keep parading?”

888 rubbed its body against Yan Buzhuo’s cheek. Despite being a mechanical entity, it possessed the inexplicable habits of a feline. Unfortunately, every time it had tried to nuzzle Lu Xun, its previous host, Lu Xun would look at it with utter disgust. But this new host was different. Perhaps because he was in a completely foreign era, or perhaps because Yan Buzhuo simply did not mind the physical contact, he never showed the disdain that Lu Xun had. Consequently, 888 liked this host much more.

Its response to him was notably more patient. [Generally speaking, the successful candidates will parade through the streets for half a day.]

“What?” Yan Buzhuo opened his mouth to complain, but before he could utter a word, the System suddenly flew up, looking into the distance. [Host, the mission target has appeared.]

The moment the System spoke, the cheers on Zhuque Avenue surged to a new crescendo.

“Look! It is the eldest son of the Ruan family!” “The Tanhua! The Tanhua is coming!”

A whirlwind of voices flooded Yan Buzhuo’s ears, and he followed the collective gaze of the crowd. Amidst the swirling rain of peach blossoms, a man on horseback approached slowly, riding through the March spring breeze and drifting pink petals. He wore a crimson silk robe and a black gauze cap, seated atop a horse as white as snow.

The sunlight did not make him look dusty or disheveled like the others; instead, it seemed to gild him with a faint golden outline, making him appear even more upright, elegant, and refined. His skin was snow white, his features gentle and clear, and a perfect, subtle smile touched his lips as he cupped his hands in greeting toward the onlookers. There were no exaggerated gestures common in dramas, nor was there any forced air of superiority. He was entirely natural, yet the phrase “the pride of a spring breeze” seemed written into the very corners of his eyes and brows.

In Yan Buzhuo’s eyes, at that moment, everything else became a mere backdrop for this man. The irritability in his heart quietly vanished. Yan Buzhuo’s gaze began to follow the man on horseback instinctively. Perhaps because his stare lingered too long, the man seemed to sense it and suddenly looked up.

In a split second, across the roaring crowd and the fluttering blossoms, Yan Buzhuo’s eyes crashed directly into his. They were incredibly clean eyes, untainted by dust, carrying the distinctive brightness of a youth. Upon seeing Yan Buzhuo by the window, the man followed his habit of polite breeding, giving the stranger in fine clothes a slight nod and a gentle smile. It was a smile without any hidden meaning, only a warm greeting born of good manners.

For a heartbeat, Yan Buzhuo felt his pulse skip. A sudden, inexplicable heat rushed through him. He jerked his face away almost subconsciously, awkwardly avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Hey,” Yan Buzhuo whispered, his ears reddening, to the System nestled on his shoulder. “Is he the protagonist you were talking about?” He paused for a long moment before adding in a tone of forced indifference, “He is quite beautiful.”

Beautiful. Indeed, he was. As a former science student, Yan Buzhuo did not have a sophisticated vocabulary for praise; he could only use the most grounded words to summarize the shock of that moment.

The System’s blue eyes flashed, and its flat mechanical voice rang out. [Mission Target: Ruan Suiyu, courtesy name Qinghe. The legitimate son of the Ruan clan from Pingjiang, and the newly appointed Tanhua. According to the Main System’s projections, the Great Zhou Dynasty has only five years left. Five years from now, Great Zhou will fall. Ruan Suiyu will be captured by the Tatars and, unable to endure the humiliation, will leap from the city walls to die for his country. Your mission is…]

“I know, I know,” Yan Buzhuo interrupted with a wave of his hand. “My mission is to save Ruan Suiyu.”

The System had been buzzing in his ear for days about how every world was a book and how he must save the protagonist, to the point of annoyance. The System let out a helpless sigh. [Host, allow me to remind you that this task is not as simple as you imagine. Only by completing the mission and saving Ruan Suiyu can you be resurrected and return to your own world.]

Yan Buzhuo waved his hand again. “I know. I really get it.”

Although Yan Buzhuo was an orphan and had no family ties to his original world, he missed the advanced technology and social conveniences of the 21st century. Besides, he had just finished his college entrance exams! He could not die before even enjoying his status as a university student.

However, Yan Buzhuo relied on his identity as a modern person. The System had recounted the original timeline to him in exhaustive detail, leaving him with a sense of all knowing superiority. To him, the mission seemed almost boringly simple. Save Ruan Suiyu? Ruan Suiyu died because the Great Zhou fell. Therefore, if the Great Zhou does not fall, everything is solved. He possessed knowledge far beyond this era and knew the entire plot. With him here, how could the Great Zhou possibly perish?

The more he thought about it, the more confident he became. He turned his eyes back to the beautiful protagonist below. Watching the refined profile of the man, Yan Buzhuo began to think with interest about how to approach this elegant scholar.

The parade was still lively with drums and gongs, but just as Ruan Suiyu’s figure was about to vanish from sight, a sharp, violent clamor erupted from the direction of the Imperial City at the end of the long street.

“Your Majesty! This is an injustice!”

The shrill cry instantly tore through the festive atmosphere. Yan Buzhuo looked into the distance and saw several students in tattered clothes and disheveled hair. They had somehow broken through the guards’ blockade and were kneeling directly on the bluestone pavement before the palace gates. Furthermore, they held up a long banner inscribed with dark red characters written in blood.

“The imperial examination is a fraud! Black and white are reversed! There is no path for those from humble families!” “We beg Your Majesty to give justice to the humble scholars! Reexamine the papers! Punish the corrupt officials!”

Those blood weeping accusations clashed with the gongs and cheers, sounding incredibly piercing. The crowd fell into a commotion. At first, people were just confused, whispering to each other for information. But as the words “exam fraud” and “no path for the humble” became clearer, the gaze of the crowd began to shift. The admiration and envy from moments ago vanished, replaced by cold scrutiny and suspicion. These collective doubts were pinned directly onto the most prominent figure, the Tanhua.

The palace guards reacted quickly, but the cold glint of their unsheathed blades could not force the students to retreat. The cries of accusation continued one after another. In an instant, the glorious scene of seeing all the flowers of Chang’an in a single day transformed into the oppressive tension of a gathering storm.

[Host, the story has begun.]

“Yes.” Yan Buzhuo nodded slightly, watching the chaos below. Peach blossom petals fell to the ground, only to be trampled underfoot. Amidst the confusion, he shifted his gaze back to Ruan Suiyu, who was now being judged by various eyes. He remained as refined as ever. Even under the weight of suspicious stares, he showed no sign of panic or disarray.

Ruan Suiyu lightly brushed back his hair and cupped his hands toward the crowd, speaking softly. “Since this is the case, it is not appropriate for me to continue the parade. I thank you all for your blessings today. I believe that in the coming days, His Majesty will make a fair decision on all matters.”

As he spoke, his eyes remained curved in a gentle arc, his posture entirely composed. Yan Buzhuo watched coldly from above. He knew that if no changes were made to the original timeline, today would be the starting point of Ruan Suiyu’s tragic life. Though he was innocent and had a clear conscience, the current Emperor and the common people would not think so.

Riding amidst the spring breeze, the horse’s hooves are swift, seeing all the flowers of Chang’an in a single day. These flowers might not be what they seem.

Yan Buzhuo’s lips curled downward slightly as he prepared to look away. But as he turned his head, he happened to meet Ruan Suiyu’s upward gaze once more. This was their second unexpected eye contact. Just like the first time, Ruan Suiyu offered him a gentle smile.

This time, Yan Buzhuo was prepared. He did not hide. Instead, he met Ruan Suiyu’s gaze directly. Unlike the upright, gentlemanly smile of the other man, Yan Buzhuo gave him a dashing, confident grin typical of a spirited youth. Under the sun, Yan Buzhuo’s black hair was caught by the wind, tangling with the drifting peach blossoms. Ruan Suiyu did not see the smile clearly. Yan Buzhuo did not need him to see it clearly.

The storm over the city of Moling was coming. Yan Buzhuo simply wanted to use that smile to promise Ruan Suiyu that he would not let anything happen to him.