The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 24

Traitorous official…

Shen Zhaoxue had long grown tired of hearing those words, but this was the first time he had heard them in this life. A chill swept down his spine; the freezing cold of that final snowy night in his previous life seemed to crawl over his skin again, making his very soul tremble.

He feared that the man before him was also reborn someone who knew all his past deeds and would broadcast them to the world. In a world of rumors and half-truths, some would believe and others wouldn’t, but no one could guarantee that such gossip wouldn’t drive him toward a dead end once more.

Shen Zhaoxue’s chest heaved as he gripped the long needle in his hand.

“You want to kill me?” Li the Third asked suddenly.

Before the words had even faded, Shen Zhaoxue rose. With a cold face, he lunged toward the source of the voice, raising the needle. In the next instant, his wrist was caught in a vice-like grip.

Li the Third’s fingertips were covered in thick, rough callouses. Shen Zhaoxue, who had never done hard labor and was rarely exposed to the elements, had delicate skin. The mere friction of that grip ground into his wrist, causing sharp pain. Yet, having grown accustomed to killing, he did not easily relinquish his murderous intent, stubbornly refusing to let go.

Li the Third was a haggard, sickly man who likely couldn’t resist for long. He let out a soft laugh. “It’s only natural you’d want to kill me. If that divination were to spread, Emperor Yuanshun would certainly take notice of you, and your life would be forfeit.”

“Divination?” Shen Zhaoxue was momentarily bewildered. “Speak clearly. Stop playing ghost.”

“Looking at you, it seems your parents didn’t tell you the truth?” Li the Third chuckled again. “It was for the best. That way, your life could be considered light and easy.”

Hearing this, Shen Zhaoxue abandoned his plan to kill. Li the Third was speaking based on a prophecy, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about a previous life.

“Explain the divination,” Shen Zhaoxue commanded coldly.

“As you likely know, after Emperor Yuanshun ascended the throne, he decreed that every newborn in the empire must have their fortune told. You thought it was to see if one would be wealthy or have a hard life, but that wasn’t it.”

Li the Third shoved Shen Zhaoxue’s wrist away, his footsteps dragging as he moved further into the room. After a while, Shen Zhaoxue heard him coughing in a corner. His sensitive ears were bothered by the noise, but he couldn’t block it out. He stood still until the coughing subsided.

“Then what was it for?”

“He wanted to know exactly who in this world could threaten his imperial power. He wanted an early warning of any potential traitors.” Li the Third let out a cackling laugh. “Since I mastered the art of divination, I have read the fates of countless infants. Only you, Young Master Shen—only you were the one clearly marked as a treacherous official who would bring chaos to the court.”

Shen Zhaoxue remained silent. Li the Third’s calculation was correct. In his previous life, driven to a dead end, he had indeed become that traitor, single-handedly throwing the Great Yan Empire into chaos for many years until Wan Shenghan and the Crown Prince dragged him down from his high position.

“Your mother was a woman of strong character,” Li the Third continued. “She gave me a fortune in family assets to beg me to change your divination. However, she lacked integrity; she didn’t keep her word. I was dying and planned to go to the capital to hand your true divination to the Emperor, but I didn’t expect you to come to me first.”

Shen Zhaoxue frowned. This finally aligned with what had happened in his past life. He hadn’t come here or met Li the Third back then. Likely, the man had run out of money and sold the secret to the Emperor.

But Shen Zhaoxue’s physical condition was plain for all to see. His hearing was too sensitive for crowds; without ear protection, he was effectively deaf in a crowd. Weak and sickly since childhood, he couldn’t hold power or pass the exams. No wonder the Emperor hadn’t executed him immediately, but instead kept him close in the palace.

It was surveillance, Shen Zhaoxue realized with a surge of resentment.

“My parents won’t give you any more money,” Shen Zhaoxue said icily, “because they are long dead.”

Li the Third was silent for a long time. “Dead?”

“Yes,” Shen Zhaoxue said calmly. “Years ago, the Shen family offended the Emperor and fled the capital. They abandoned me. Later, they met with refugees and bandits on the road and died.” He paused. “Ah, perhaps it was even on Emperor Yuanshun’s orders. Who can say?”

“For years, the Wan family hid these things from me. I had to pretend I knew nothing, foolishly sending letters begging them to change their minds and take me home.” Shen Zhaoxue gnashed his teeth, then laughed. “Since you know this secret, you should also know I am currently staying at the Wan estate. The Eldest Young Master, Wan Shenghan, treats me well. If you need money, I can provide it.”

He fingered the long needle. “But in this world, it is too hard to keep a secret. A dead man is far more reassuring, isn’t he?”

His murderous intent had not faded. This divination was the root cause of his suffering in both lives. How could he let such a threat remain? In some ways, he was no different from the current Emperor equally suspicious and equally cruel.

He moved closer to Li the Third, hearing the man’s steady breathing. He didn’t seem to fear death, or perhaps he didn’t believe Shen Zhaoxue could kill him. Most people saw Shen Zhaoxue as a frail, dying plaything. Shen Zhaoxue was happy to let them think that; it was how he had stayed hidden in the palace for over a decade before toppling the throne.

The needle reflected a glint of cold light. Shen Zhaoxue moved slowly.

“Whether you kill me or not, the result is the same,” Li the Third said. He coughed for a long time before his raspy voice continued. “My fate ends here. Even if you don’t kill me, I don’t have the strength to tell the Emperor.”

“You could tell others in the village. It would spread.”

“Unlikely,” Li the Third laughed. “I told you: tonight, there will be a great rain. A sudden flood will submerge this valley and this village in an instant. No one will survive.”

“This is the fate of everyone in this village. If you don’t want to die—if you want to see that ‘above ten thousand people’ ending of yours—you should leave now.”

Shen Zhaoxue didn’t move. “I am blind. How can I leave?”

“You don’t need to ask me that,” Li the Third said. “You were born brilliant. You don’t need anyone to hold your hand. If you want to go, you will find a way.”

Shen Zhaoxue realized the man truly could see things, but he didn’t believe in fate. If the divination were absolute, why would the heavens have given him a second life? He trusted no one but himself.

He brushed the hair from his forehead, his sightless eyes cold. Before he could move again, his ears caught the faint rumble of thunder from the distance. Soon, the sound became clear, shaking the valley.

There really is going to be rain. If he stayed, he would die in the flood. He hid the needle and felt his way toward the door.

“When you open the door, go straight to the left,” Li the Third called out from behind him. “If there’s a path, take the trail. If not, don’t detour—just keep going. There’s a cave on the mountain where you can shelter. When the rain stops, follow the trail upward to find a small town.”

He added, “Of course, if you freeze to death in the mountains or are eaten by beasts, that is simply your fate.”

Shen Zhaoxue paused but didn’t hesitate, pulling the door open and heading left.

His legs were injured and his head was burning with fever. He knew he might die in that cave, but he’d rather gamble on that than stay for the flood. He reached the cave just as the winds began to howl and the torrential rain began to fall. The sound of the downpour hammering the leaves was deafening to his ears.

He sat by the cave wall, hugging himself as the fever worsened. He hoped the rain would stop so he could leave. Even if Wan Shenghan found him and locked him up, it would be fine; he knew the secret of the divination now. Dealing with the Emperor would be easier.

He buried his face in his arms, thinking of his parents. He hadn’t entirely lied to Li the Third. In his past life, he hadn’t known they were dead and had sent letters for three years. It wasn’t until he was in the palace that the Emperor casually told him they had died three years prior.

Did Wan Shenghan know? he wondered. Did he know about my parents and the divination?

Most people treated him as if he were deaf, keeping secrets while he sat right there. He gripped his sleeves, then let go. Exhausted, he fell into a deep sleep.

So cold.

Shen Zhaoxue parted his lips, exhaling a puff of white mist, but he couldn’t open his eyes. His breath felt hot. The nightmare trapped him.

After a while, he felt his body shift and realized he was being held. In this cave? Who else could be here? He struggled through the daze until he finally woke.

He heard the “crackle” of a fire and felt a source of heat in front of him. A man was holding him, wrapped in a heavy, slightly fishy-smelling fur. It was a bit unpleasant, but it warmed him. He wasn’t used to being held like this—sitting in the man’s lap, encircled by his arms.

“Thank you,” he rasped, his voice like a knife cutting his throat. “Could you please let me go?”

The man didn’t speak. Instead, he held him tighter.

Shen Zhaoxue grew restless. He wondered if it was someone he knew—perhaps Wan Shenghan. But when he cautiously felt the man’s clothes, they weren’t the silks of a capital gentleman, but rough cloth and a beast-skin vest. A farmer, perhaps.

He felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t ready to face Wan Shenghan after hitting him with the pillow. He tried to pull away from the “farmer,” but as his hand touched the ground, a calloused hand reached across his armpit and gripped the back of his neck.

Shen Zhaoxue reflexively grabbed the man’s hand. He felt the fingers; there were no callouses from holding a pen, only the rough, thick skin of a laborer. The grip ground into his neck.

He let out a muffled groan. The man was incredibly strong. Fearing he might be killed, Shen Zhaoxue went limp and leaned back into the man’s chest, tilting his chin up. This seemed to be what the “farmer” wanted, for the man leaned down and bit his lip.