The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 16

The Wan estate was not his home; there was no place for him here. No matter how cautious he was, he could not stop the residents of this mansion from intruding into his courtyard at will. Even the presence of guards staying with Chunya lately had proven futile.

Shen Zhaoxue stared at the mud on the windowsill for a moment. Hearing Chunya’s hurried footsteps returning, he turned his head slightly. She held a small parrot in her hands—a docile little thing that didn’t struggle or peck.

Shen Zhaoxue was momentarily dazed. He was suddenly reminded of a certain afternoon in his youth, when he was reading in the pavilion of the Shen family’s back garden. Because he had been sickly since birth and disliked noise, his parents had raised him far from the main hall. It was always silent, with barely the sound of birds or insects.

Thus, the sound of a small parrot fluttering its wings onto a branch had been incredibly clear to him.

He had put down his book and looked up through the swaying shadows and light to see a blue-and-white bird watching him with round eyes. It was perhaps the first time Shen Zhaoxue had glimpsed a truly free life. Thinking it was a wild bird, he had reached out his hand and whispered, “Come to me.”

The bird seemed to understand him. It flapped its wings and landed on his sleeve, surprisingly affectionate. Shen Zhaoxue had followed the direction the bird had come from, weaving through rockeries and bamboo groves, until he stood beneath the perimeter wall. Just as he stood on his tiptoes to send it back over, a head popped up over the wall, startling him into a retreat. Once his racing heart slowed, he finally saw the person’s face.

It was a youth of his own age. Carrying that bird, the boy had intruded into his life on an otherwise ordinary, afternoon.

The Little Messenger

“Chirp.”

The parrot shifted in Shen Zhaoxue’s palm, bringing him back to the present. He lowered his eyes to look at the bird. It stared back with round, innocent black eyes, showing no fear of humans.

“Where did this bird come from?” he asked Chunya.

Though he asked, he already knew the answer. Chunya explained: I ran into the Eldest Young Master on the way. He asked a few questions and then gave me the bird he raised.

It really was Wan Shenghan’s bird.

Shen Zhaoxue felt a sense of absurdity. Wan Shenghan was so brilliant and sharp that Shen Zhaoxue’s actions could never truly be hidden from him; the man could see through him easily. It was only that Shen Zhaoxue refused to admit it, and the man didn’t press the issue.

He likely knew why I wanted a bird in the middle of the night, yet he gave me his parrot anyway.

Shen Zhaoxue found the man’s mind difficult to read. He could perceive that Wan Shenghan’s feelings for him were different from others, but to call it “love” felt like something was missing; it felt more like an obsession with possession.

He shook the thoughts away. He didn’t have the energy for romance in this life. Seeking revenge against his enemies had already exhausted him.

He sat before the full table of food, toying with the bird that had no idea what was about to happen. After a moment, he sighed and handed it back to Chunya. “Return it to the Eldest Young Master. I have no use for it.”

Chunya was baffled but didn’t ask questions. She obeyed and left the courtyard.

The Heart of a Villain

Shen Zhaoxue watched the stars outside the window. This courtyard, tucked into a deep corner of the estate, was so silent that it would look uninhabited if not for the lantern light.

A lonely ghost like me, borrowing my own body to return… I am already a dead man, he thought. There is no need to drag an innocent life down with me.

The little bird had no idea it had narrowly escaped being used to test for poison. Shen Zhaoxue told himself that it was lucky. Having worn the title of “treacherous minister” for so long, everyone said he was ruthless and bloodthirsty, and he had come to believe it himself. The people who had died by his hand—directly or indirectly—had long since turned to dust.

This was a rare moment of soft-heartedness. He realized he wasn’t the same as he used to be; he couldn’t bring himself to kill such an innocent life.

He took up his chopsticks and ate a few bites of food. The dishes were not to his taste again; he had no appetite and felt a faint wave of nausea. He put down the chopsticks, left the table, and returned to the couch to flip through a history book by the candlelight.

The Family Dispute

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside. Wan Shenghan had just emerged from his father’s study. The Head of the Wan family preferred peace at any cost and never wished to offend anyone. As soon as Wan Rong brought Wan Jingyao back and caused a scene, the father had compromised and allowed Wan Jingyao to stay in the estate again.

Wan Shenghan had wanted to hold Wan Rong accountable for throwing chili water mixed with stone at Shen Zhaoxue, but his father had stopped him. He had been forced to watch that family of scoundrels leave the study in triumph.

Since his father was often away in the south for business, most household affairs had long been handed to Wan Shenghan. Compared to his mild-tempered father, Wan Shenghan was decisive and even somewhat autocratic.

Because Shen Zhaoxue had provoked Wan Rong into injuring him and then secretly spread the word, the entire capital was now gossiping about the Wans bullying a helpless orphan. Wan Shenghan was like Shen Zhaoxue in that he didn’t care about his reputation, but he could not stand to see evildoers go unpunished. He knew what Shen Zhaoxue was trying to do, yet he hadn’t stopped him.

The Poisoned Meal

After the argument with his father, Wan Shenghan returned to his room, his mind in a state of unrest. He tried to read to calm himself when he heard footsteps approaching.

It was Chunya. She entered and handed the parrot back, explaining: The Young Master had me return the bird. He played with it for a moment, but perhaps he didn’t like it.

Wan Shenghan didn’t seem to care, keeping his eyes on his book. “What did he want with my bird in the first place?”

Chunya gestured in response. Suddenly, Wan Shenghan’s wrist trembled. His pupils contracted sharply, and he lunged to his feet, his eyes nearly bloodshot with fury. He struck the desk, causing it to screech against the floor.

“WHAT IS HE PLANNING TO DO?!”

Chunya was terrified. Before she could react, Wan Shenghan had already sprinted out of the room. Since his courtyard was right next to the side courtyard, he reached Shen Zhaoxue’s room in moments. He saw the door standing open and heard no sound from within. He didn’t know whether to be terrified or relieved.

He realized his back was drenched in sweat and his legs were weak as he climbed the steps. He caught the doorframe and looked inside.

The food on the table was mostly untouched. Shen Zhaoxue apparently had no appetite; the dishes looked as if they had just been served. Wan Shenghan’s gaze swept past the food and through the screen, where he saw Shen Zhaoxue lying on the couch.

His heart stopped. He rushed around the screen.

Shen Zhaoxue was curled on his side, facing the wall. Beneath the quilt, his pale, bloodless face was covered in cold sweat. His brow was furrowed as if he were enduring immense agony.

When Wan Shenghan reached out to cup the boy’s face, he realized his own hands were shaking violently. Then, his fingers met a wet, viscous slickness on Shen Zhaoxue’s cheek.

He gently turned the boy’s head. Thick, dark blood was flowing steadily from the corners of Shen Zhaoxue’s lips. He had already fallen into a deep coma.