Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 35

The stone walls inside the imperial prison were icy, and the light was dim. The guards did not deliver meals on a regular schedule, causing the passage of time to become blurred and indistinct.

Yan Buzhuo could only rely on asking the System to determine how long he had been held in the prison. He had originally expected to stay for several days until the Emperor’s fury subsided. However, to his surprise, at noon on the third day, just as he was staring blankly at Ruan Suiyu’s profile, the heavy iron door was pushed open from the outside.

A flood of blinding light spilled in eagerly. Yan Buzhuo’s eyes, unaccustomed to the light for so long, could not bear the sudden stimulation.

He hurriedly raised his hand to shield his eyes and heard a strange, cold voice make an announcement: “There is an imperial decree. You may leave.”

Freedom had arrived so suddenly that Yan Buzhuo felt no joy. His first reaction was that Princess Yongning had succeeded in her plea. However, if that were the case, the jailer’s reaction should not have been so cold.

These officials were all calculating individuals who knew well how to tread on the weak and curry favor with the strong. If Princess Yongning had succeeded, he would still be the Emperor’s nephew, not a criminal.

The guard should have been smiling, bustling about to help him, and telling him to watch his step on the stairs. Instead, the man said nothing, merely tapped the wall, and gestured toward the outside: “What are you waiting for? Let us go, honorable guests.”

The way he used the term “honorable guests” was devoid of respect and laced with an imperceptible sneer.

Seeing the guard’s attitude, Yan Buzhuo’s heart sank. He asked the System urgently: “System, has something happened?”

The guard’s attitude was wrong, and Yan Buzhuo felt unsettled.

But the System in his mind did not answer immediately as it usually did. It remained silent for a rare moment, and its mechanical voice seemed deeper than usual: [Host, according to the constraints of the Main System’s rules, I cannot directly tell you about certain major node information before the event occurs. Host, you will know once you go out.]

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo’s heart rose to his throat. Even the System’s attitude was off; something major must have occurred.

With his heart thumping, Yan Buzhuo followed Ruan Suiyu out of the gloomy cage, one after the other.

However, the moment he stepped out of the prison gate, Yan Buzhuo was stunned by the scene before him.

As far as the eye could see, the street was desolate. Vermillion Bird Street, usually bustling with carriages and crowds, was now nearly empty. The few people present were all moving with hurried, somber expressions.

Even more striking was the sight of scattered yellow paper offerings fluttering in front of many houses.

The yellow paper danced in the wind and landed right in Yan Buzhuo’s palm. It was an ominous omen.

Looking at the paper in his palm, Yan Buzhuo’s heart skipped a beat, and a strong sense of unease welled up. He hurriedly stopped an elderly man walking by with his head down and asked: “Sir, may I ask what has happened in the city? Why is there yellow paper hanging everywhere?”

Hearing this, the old man looked up, his clouded eyes filled with uncontrollable terror and sorrow: “Young master, do you not know? The Northern Frontier, a catastrophe has occurred! The Tatars breached Suiyang City. The reinforcements did not arrive in time, and the entire city of Suiyang, the entire city was slaughtered by the Tatars!”

“These yellow papers, they are for those who have family in the north. They are for the mourning!”

A boom resounded in Yan Buzhuo’s mind. It was no wonder the guard acted that way, and no wonder the System refused to answer his questions directly.

[Host, Suiyang was slaughtered yesterday. When the news reached Moling, the Emperor ordered the Marquis of Yongjia to lead his troops to Taicang Mountain immediately to defend the border. To pacify the Marquis and appease the public, Liang Heng issued the order this morning…]

“To let us out.”

Before the System could finish, Yan Buzhuo understood why he had been released.

Liang Heng’s move was not just an act of appeasement; it was also a warning to the Marquis of Yongjia not to harbor any ulterior motives and to fight to the death. After all, his entire family’s lives were now in the Emperor’s hands.

Suiyang City, the Marquis of Yongjia.

Why were all his efforts, all his unwillingness and anger, and the ending he desperately tried to change, showing no sign of shifting? Reality was still unfolding in such a tragic way, revealing its bloody truth ahead of schedule.

He turned his head to look at Ruan Suiyu beside him. Yan Buzhuo wanted to find a glimmer of denial in those always-calm eyes, but he saw only bottomless sorrow and grief.

“How could this be?”

A massive, unprecedented sense of powerlessness washed over Yan Buzhuo, instantly submerging him.

His eye sockets felt hot and swollen. Before he realized it, a large tear escaped his eye and slid rapidly down his cheek.

It happened so fast that he could not raise his hand to hide it. The scalding tear hit the stone floor, shattering into tiny droplets.

These shattered droplets also shattered the pride and composure the young man was trying to maintain.

He hurriedly lowered his head, not wanting Ruan Suiyu to see him like this.

With his fine bangs falling over his forehead and his wet, tear-stained lashes drooping, Yan Buzhuo bit his lip tightly, trying to force back the surging tears, but his lower lip trembled uncontrollably.

His brows were lowered and his shoulders slumped. Despite his best efforts to hide it, he was, after all, only a youth who had just turned eighteen.

Thus, his repressed grievances and despair were fully witnessed by Ruan Suiyu.

Looking at this young Marquis, who was usually high-spirited and full of youthful vigor, now resembling a fledgling bird soaked by a torrential storm, Ruan Suiyu’s heart inexplicably softened.

Without hesitation, he took a small step forward. Looking at the dejected youth with his head lowered, Ruan Suiyu tentatively raised his hand and, with a gentle, soothing motion, ruffled Yan Buzhuo’s messy hair.

Yan Buzhuo’s hair was very soft, unlike his usual impulsive nature, but in Ruan Suiyu’s heart, it felt inexplicably fitting.

Unlike other noble descendants, he was a soft and kind youth.

Ruan Suiyu’s voice was softer than the April breeze, carrying a closeness that overstepped the bounds of etiquette, with a warmth he himself had not noticed: “Do not cry. In this matter, the heir has already tried very hard.”

His voice was soft, and his touch was gentle. Feeling the temperature and weight of the hand on his head, Yan Buzhuo froze.

Although Ruan Suiyu hid it well, Yan Buzhuo keenly sensed the forced calm in his voice.

Familiar with the plot, Yan Buzhuo knew clearly how much Ruan Suiyu loved the Great Zhou. He possessed the most romantic, patriotic, and people-oriented spirit of a scholar.

The pain in this man’s heart was no less than his own, yet he was the one comforting him first.

This realization made Yan Buzhuo feel even worse. He felt a sense of shame, but beneath that shame, a strange, bitter warmth bubbled up in his heart.

His earlobes flushed slightly, and he felt extremely embarrassed. He suddenly raised his arm and, with a touch of youthful annoyance, pushed lightly against Ruan Suiyu’s shoulder.

“Who, who is crying!”

His words were still thick with a nasal tone. Not daring to look at Ruan Suiyu, he turned and ran toward the Yongjia Marquis Estate.

His black ponytail flew behind him, and his scarlet robe kicked up dust. Despite his earlier despondency, as he ran down the desolate street, his retreating figure still carried an indescribable youthful spirit in Ruan Suiyu’s eyes.

His fingertips seemed to still retain the sensation of the youth’s hair. Ruan Suiyu watched the figure disappear around the corner and slowly withdrew his hand.

He clenched his palm and looked up at the yellow paper filling the sky on Vermillion Bird Street.

Watching this scene, Ruan Suiyu felt a complicated sorrow. He lowered his lashes and blinked, a crystalline tear falling onto the stone floor.

Yan Buzhuo did not know Ruan Suiyu’s complex internal state. He ran all the way back to the Yongjia Marquis Estate, fearing that Princess Yongning would see his red-eyed, disheveled state. He did not even take the main entrance.

With his head down, he ignored the butler who hurried up to greet him and dived straight into his room. Only then did he loudly instruct the butler outside the door: “Prepare water.”

Not until he immersed himself in the warm water did Yan Buzhuo feel he had regained some strength.

He changed into a clean, embroidered robe and stood before the bronze mirror. Yan Buzhuo took a deep breath, then raised his hands and pulled the corners of his mouth, bit by bit, into a familiar, high-spirited smile.

The youth in the mirror had the same features, but something had sunk deep into those bright, shining eyes.

Hiding all his powerlessness and fear, Yan Buzhuo put the carefree heir of the Yongjia Marquis back on, piece by piece.

Only when he was certain he would not reveal any cracks did he prepare to go and reassure Princess Yongning.

However, just as he walked out the door, the butler blocked his path. Looking at the man with some suspicion, he saw the butler’s expression was solemn as he whispered: “Heir, the Second Prince is here. He is waiting for you in the side chamber, saying he needs to see you secretly.”

The Second Prince, Liang Cong?

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo’s heart jumped. Neither he nor the original owner had ever had any dealings with this prince, so why was Liang Cong here to see him? And why secretly?

The more he thought, the more startled he became. Yan Buzhuo was filled with heaviness.

Only when truly swept into the turbulent waters of the imperial city did Yan Buzhuo realize that nothing was as simple as he had imagined. Some people and some things were not governed by his own will.

He had originally wanted to be a bystander. As someone who knew the entire plot, he intended to be the chess player behind the scenes. But he was too naive. From the moment he stepped into Wenhua Hall, he had been a small pawn on this chessboard, pushed by others.

Whether he liked it or not, those who wanted to use him as a pawn would never stop coming to his door.

But so, what if he were a pawn?

The sky was filled with stars; some were strong, some weak, but every dim star continued to shine. Who was to say a pawn could not overturn the board?

He reached out to adjust his robes. A perfectly calculated smile, belonging to a dandy, returned to his face as he stepped into the side chamber.

He was going to meet this Second Prince who had come in the dead of night to have a “secret” meeting with him.