Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 34

Although the trip to the outskirts of the capital had dealt a deep blow to Yan Buzhuo, he still did not give up. After lying in the Yan Mansion for two days, the sense of frustration in his heart transformed into new motivation. As the system had said when comforting him, a youth should not give up easily.

The next day, Yan Buzhuo returned to his spirited self. But this time, having convinced himself that he understood the operational laws of the Great Zhou Dynasty, he took a different approach.

He no longer naively clamored to impeach anyone; instead, he tried every possible way to bypass the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Revenue, attempting to find an opening through the Directorate for Palace Buildings or local timber merchants. After all, for a project as massive as the construction of the Tongtian Pavilion, the actual appropriations and material specifications were stripped away layer by layer; the illicit gains and price differences accumulated in the process were no small sum. Yan Buzhuo believed that even if he only punished this batch of corrupt officials, he could recover a significant amount of funding.

He even went so far as to entertain the whimsical idea of pulling Ruan Suiyu and a group of upright officials to submit a joint memorial, requesting that the Emperor “show compassion for the frontier, postpone non-urgent labor, and use the funds to supply the military.” Yan Buzhuo believed this was already a massive compromise and a detour.

However, all his efforts, when faced with absolute power, were like small pebbles thrown into the sea; they sank silently without even stirring a single ripple.

Before the investigation had even truly begun, Yan Buzhuo had already offended the imperial wrath.

One day at noon, just as Yan Buzhuo had finished his duties at the Ministry of War and was preparing to investigate, a team of Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards) dressed in flying-fish robes and wearing embroidery-spring sabers intercepted him on Vermilion Bird Street.

There was no interrogation and no opportunity for defense. There was only a casual oral decree that sealed Yan Buzhuo’s fate.

“Yan Buzhuo, Heir to the Yongjia Marquis, and Ruan Suiyu, Investigating Censor, are guilty of spying on the inner palace and conspiring to commit treason. Take them into custody immediately, throw them into the imperial prison, and await trial.”

Without any evidence, merely based on those words, “spying on the inner palace and conspiring to commit treason,” Yan Buzhuo and Ruan Suiyu were thrown into the prison.

The heavy iron door slowly closed behind them, shutting out the last trace of light. Yan Buzhuo slid down the cold wall and sat on the floor. In the darkness, he lowered his head as he looked at the figure opposite him, the man whose back remained straight even after being thrown into the imperial prison.

After a long while, Yan Buzhuo said with some guilt, “Censor Ruan… this time, it is I who have implicated you.”

Only at this moment did Yan Buzhuo clearly realize what imperial power and celestial majesty truly meant. They were no longer just a few light words in history books, but a cold existence capable of easily crushing all of a person’s hopes and efforts.

“I was too naive…”

Yan Buzhuo’s voice sounded muffled, extremely clear in the dead-silent cell. Ruan Suiyu could even clearly hear the trembling in his tone. “I originally thought that as long as I could gather the evidence, as long as the evidence was ironclad, I could topple a group of corrupt officials. But it turns out… in the face of absolute power, laws and regulations are merely a pile of waste paper.”

Saying this, Yan Buzhuo lowered his head and whispered, “It is useless…”

The Emperor was too stingy even to glance at the evidence; he sat high above, mocking all the efforts Yan Buzhuo had made. With a single, flippant sentence, all of Yan Buzhuo’s hard work had been wasted.

Seeing the young man so utterly dejected, almost to the point of tears, 888 flew out to gently comfort him. [Host, do not be afraid. You will be fine. Princess Yongning has already entered the palace late at night upon hearing this news. She is the Emperor’s biological elder sister; the Emperor will not disregard their sibling bond.]

888’s comfort had no effect at all. Yan Buzhuo’s chest began to heave with anger upon hearing this. Gasping for air, he retorted in his heart, “Do you take me for a child who understands nothing?!”

Of course, he would be fine. Yan Buzhuo would be released by Liang Heng after being detained for a few days at most. Without evidence or a criminal record, Liang Heng would not do anything to him. He was only taking this action to warn the world, to warn Yan Buzhuo: do not attempt to shake his position, do not try to provoke him.

Ruan Suiyu, hearing Yan Buzhuo’s voice, turned his head. “Young Master, do not trouble yourself. My imprisonment has little to do with you.”

Hearing Ruan Suiyu’s clear, cold voice, Yan Buzhuo turned to look at him.

In the pitch-black cell, only one oil lamp was lit. The light was as small as a bean, yet it fell upon Ruan Suiyu’s side profile, allowing Yan Buzhuo to see his face clearly. The hustle and bustle of the past few days and the sudden imprisonment had not diminished Ruan Suiyu’s elegance at all; instead, it had washed away his usual, overly formal restraint. His ink-like long hair was draped casually over his shoulders, and blended with the light from the lamp above, it made Ruan Suiyu’s face appear even more refined and pale, with his brows and eyes appearing softer than usual.

Seeing Yan Buzhuo’s gaze, Ruan Suiyu curled the corners of his lips into a faint smile. The smile was light, like ripples spreading across the surface of the water, carrying a hint of elusive mockery.

“Young Marquis,” he reached out to smooth the long hair on his shoulder, then looked up at the candlelight above. His voice was exceptionally soft, and it was unclear who he was speaking to. “Under the vast heaven, all the land belongs to the King. The inhabitants of the land are all the King’s subjects. Since this world bears the surname Liang, then all things and all matters are naturally decided by the Liang family.”

This sentence was like a fuse, instantly igniting all the anger and resentment Yan Buzhuo had just suppressed.

“What kind of nonsense are you saying?!”

He lunged toward the bars, grabbing the cold iron rods tightly with both hands and shouting at Ruan Suiyu, “This world belongs to the people! It belongs to the soldiers who shed blood on the front lines! It belongs to the commoners scraping a living in the fields! It belongs to every living soul in this city of Moling who works at sunrise and rests at sunset! It is not the Liang family’s world!”

By this point, Yan Buzhuo was gasping heavily. He stared fixedly at Ruan Suiyu, his eyes rimmed with red from agitation. “You spent ten years studying for the imperial examinations! You read the works of the sages; did you not read that the people are of primary importance and the ruler is of least importance?! Did you read the sages’ books just to use the people’s blood and sweat to repair a broken pavilion?!”

Yan Buzhuo roared until he was hoarse, his voice echoing endlessly in the small cell. Upon hearing this, the expression on Ruan Suiyu’s face froze. He had not expected Yan Buzhuo to say such things. With his dark pupils, he looked quietly at Yan Buzhuo, watching those eyes—bright and terrifyingly intense because of his anger—and Ruan Suiyu lowered his eyes and chuckled softly.

After a long while, he raised his head again.

Indeed, he had spent so long reading the sages’ books; his purpose was to benefit the people. Mencius did say, “The people are the most important; the state comes second; the ruler is of least importance.”

Looking at Yan Buzhuo quietly, Ruan Suiyu curled his eyes gently and smiled. But this time, there was no mockery in his smile; there was only a complex, near-relieved emotion.

“You are right.”

As he conceded, the sharp spikes Yan Buzhuo had just raised lost their target. With a chest full of pent-up anger, Yan Buzhuo let go of the bars and sat back down.

The cell fell into silence again, but it was no longer the suffocating, deathly silence of moments ago. A breeze blew in from outside the window, and the light of the oil lamp danced with the wind, casting swaying shadows beneath Ruan Suiyu’s refined profile. The light and shadow flickered, pushed by the wind, lingering fondly on Ruan Suiyu’s jade-like face.

Yan Buzhuo looked carefully, wondering if the dim yellow light had its own selfish desires, refusing to leave Ruan Suiyu’s face. His eyes unconsciously followed the dim light; it seemed to gently kiss Ruan Suiyu’s slightly closed eyelids, then lingered lovingly along his lowered lashes, and finally lingered greedily on his slightly pursed, pale pink lips.

It was lingering and ambiguous—a sight that terrified Yan Buzhuo.

His heart thumped wildly, and an inexplicable stir of emotion surged into Yan Buzhuo’s chest. He hurried to lower his head, not daring to look again. He swallowed, forcing himself to forget the scene just now. But with only himself and Ruan Suiyu in the cell, if he did not think about Ruan Suiyu, he could only think about the task that brought him here.

And whenever he thought of the system’s task, a massive wave of frustration surged from the bottom of Yan Buzhuo’s heart. The ridiculous sense of superiority he felt when he first arrived in this dynasty had vanished. By this moment, Yan Buzhuo no longer had the eyes of a detached outsider looking down from above. He began to realize that this was not the book the system had described; it was a living, breathing era, filled with living, breathing people.

Recalling his own powerlessness and the obstacles he had faced along the way, Yan Buzhuo lowered his eyes and muttered dejectedly, “System, did you choose the wrong person? I don’t know anything, and it seems like… I can’t change anything either.”

To say nothing of saving Ruan Suiyu, it seemed Yan Buzhuo could barely survive himself. The frustration felt like strands of air, gradually enveloping Yan Buzhuo’s body, making him feel as if he were about to suffocate.

888 floated above Yan Buzhuo’s head, watching his depression with cold eyes. It was normal for this youth, who had been full of pride when he first arrived, to experience such frustration after experiencing all this in less than a month.

Gently patting Yan Buzhuo’s head, 888 saw him pouting and raising a pair of round, watery eyes. It softened its tone to comfort him, “It’s alright, Host. You must understand that realizing the reality clearly is also a remarkable responsibility and a form of progress.”

“We have now recognized the reality, but the Emperor is still immersed in his own power; that means we are already a step ahead of him. Do not be afraid, Host; 888 will always be here to accompany you.”

Hearing these words from the system, the water in Yan Buzhuo’s eyes grew heavier. Crystal-clear tears fell, attracting the attention of the calm face opposite him.

“Young Master?”

“Ah?” Hastily wiping his face, Yan Buzhuo pretended to be composed. “What? What is it? Do you need something?”

“I am fine; what about you, Young Master?”

The clear, cold voice sounded, making Yan Buzhuo’s trembling voice sound even more fragile. Thus, he hurriedly lowered his head to cover his face. “I am fine too!”

The dark pupils looked quietly at the huddled figure. Ruan Suiyu deliberately softened his tone and said gently, “It is good that you are fine, Young Master. I will stay here and keep you company.”

His typically clear, cold voice now even carried a hint of tenderness.

In the second after he finished speaking, Yan Buzhuo raised his head to look at him. In the moment their eyes met, Ruan Suiyu smiled at him with his eyes curved.

In that very moment, Yan Buzhuo suddenly felt that the stone pressing against his chest did not seem quite as heavy anymore. The path ahead remained uncertain, obscured by mist and reaching no end, but it seemed it was not quite as hopeless after all.