The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 28

The man beside him did not respond immediately. A breeze swept past, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood that quickly vanished.

Shen Zhaoxue sensed that the man had stood up and led the tailor further away, likely wanting to keep him in the dark about the impending marriage. He wasn’t actually interested in a stranger’s family affairs; he simply recalled that this Master Li had lived in seclusion for days without any visitors. It had always been just the two of them—sometimes cold and silent, other times bickering until the middle of the night.

If such a man were truly to take a wife, he was being far too neglectful. With the new bride not yet through the door, one would think he’d spend more time accompanying her. Thinking this, the man’s image in Shen Zhaoxue’s heart—already poor—sank further, placing him firmly among the ranks of the cold and unfeeling.

The commotion continued not far outside the window; perhaps Chen Shi had sustained some minor injury.

In his previous life, Shen Zhaoxue had assisted Chen Shi with all his heart, managing every detail of the boy’s life with absolute devotion. When Chen Shi was sick or hurt, he stayed by his side through the night, acting as the sharpest blade in the boy’s hand. Back then, he thought kindness might be repaid. He was, after all, Chen Shi’s biological uncle; for years, he had paved the way with no other desire than to fulfill his sister’s dying wish.

It wasn’t until the day of the palace coup, when he was bound by the very person he protected, that he suddenly realized: to expect a kind reward from anyone in this world was a fool’s dream. Now, there were few people left who could evoke even a shred of pity or sincerity from him.

He only wanted revenge.

Shen Zhaoxue touched the silk ribbon covering his eyes and put his ear protectors back on. He sat quietly by the window sipping tea, waiting for the man called Master Li to take him back to the manor. It was strange first, he had casually lied to Chen Luo using the surname Li, then he had met Li the Third in the valley village. Why was this man also surnamed Li?

He was deep in thought and didn’t notice the man had returned.

Wan Shenghan gently touched his face. Shen Zhaoxue, like a startled bird, flinched back so violently that his back slammed into the chair, nearly sending both him and the seat toppling over. Wan Shenghan, startled himself, reached out and scooped the youth into his arms, narrowly preventing the fall.

The proximity was so close that their breaths intermingled. His ear protectors had fallen off, making it feel as if he could hear the man’s heartbeat through his very flesh. Shen Zhaoxue’s mind went hazy for a moment. The man’s taste isn’t bad, he thought. The incense was crisp and calming, unlike the stifling, overbearing scents favored by palace officials or other noble sons. And—

His heart was beating very fast. Did I hear it wrong?

Wan Shenghan let out a long sigh of relief. “Clumsy.”

“If you hadn’t snuck up to scare me, I wouldn’t have been startled.”

Shen Zhaoxue pushed him away. Remembering that the man was about to marry and knowing he himself was a “cut-sleeve,” he felt it improper to remain so close. He pulled away and fumbled to straighten his collar, muttering, “I am a sick person. Instead of being considerate, you always bully me for being blind and deaf.”

Wan Shenghan wondered how he could utter such twisted logic. “I saved you, and now you blame me for bullying you?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

“Fine. Then I won’t look after you anymore. Find your own way back.”

He made a show of leaving but turned back every few steps to check Shen Zhaoxue’s reaction. The youth simply stood there with perfect composure, focusing entirely on whether there were wrinkles in his sleeves or collar, smoothing them out meticulously. He seemed utterly unconcerned whether the man actually left.

Wan Shenghan knew this tactic was useless against Shen Zhaoxue. The youth was too accustomed to using people; everyone around him was merely a tool. If he were truly left here, he would simply find a way to contact Chen Shi or seduce the Magistrate.

People said Shen Zhaoxue was a “dodder flower” that grew only by clinging to the Wan family, but no one understood that such a plant was the most dangerous of all. Clinging to power, seemingly soft and harmless, it actually used its fangs to sink into the host’s marrow, draining their nutrients until it flourished on its own.

Worried the youth really would seek out Chen Shi, Wan Shenghan returned to his side. “I’ve delivered the letter you wanted. Whether you’re looking for reinforcements or something else, leaving my manor right now is unwise.”

Shen Zhaoxue stood quietly, eyes covered, his expression impossible to read. He’s quite good at finding excuses for himself, he thought.

They walked out of the tavern together. At the bottom of the stairs, Wan Shenghan suddenly stopped and pulled a handkerchief from his robes to cover Shen Zhaoxue’s face.

Shen Zhaoxue frowned. “What for?”

“People keep looking at you,” Wan Shenghan said tonelessly. “Their gaze looks like they want to strip you bare. If you don’t want to be stared at, cover your face.”

Shen Zhaoxue suspected Master Li was fooling him, but he didn’t object and obeyed quietly. In the next instant, he was hoisted onto the man’s back.

He hadn’t put his ear protectors back on, fearing that wearing them in town near Chen Shi would attract too much attention. He had to endure the cacophony. As the noise hit him, his head buzzed, and he felt a strange sense of deja vu. But his memory was failing him; he couldn’t remember why, and the effort only made his head ache. He instinctively buried his head against the man’s neck to block out the chaos.

Wan Shenghan carried him in the opposite direction of the manor. Chen Shi’s carriage and the officials were gone, leaving a pool of blood on the ground. Passersby whispered that the Prince had been enraged and killed the driver on the spot—blood had sprayed three feet.

Wan Shenghan’s expression remained unchanged. He adjusted his hold on the youth and lowered his face. Before coming out, he had used a disguise to hide his features. To any observer, he was just an ordinary farmer.

He walked steadily toward the east side of town. Zhang Shu, standing outside the crowd, fixed his gaze on Wan Shenghan, watching him for a long time. He saw nothing unusual in the man, then turned his gaze to the person on his back. The person’s head was buried, and the clothes and hairstyle made it hard to tell if it was a man or a woman.

Zhang Shu frowned, watching a bit longer until a cart filled with hay passed by, forcing the crowd to scatter. When he looked again, the two were gone.

Wan Shenghan took the narrow back paths to return to the manor outside town, carrying Shen Zhaoxue straight to his room. Once the silence returned, Shen Zhaoxue sat in a chair with some irritation, removing his blindfold. “Why did you take the long way back earlier?”

Wan Shenghan paused while pouring water, looking at Shen Zhaoxue with surprise. He had assumed the youth, being blind and carried on his back, wouldn’t realize he had changed directions. But then he realized: with Shen Zhaoxue’s sharp mind, it wasn’t a difficult thing to notice.

When he hesitated, the youth pressed further: “Who did you run into on the road?”

His words were always sharp, hitting exactly where it was hardest to answer.

Wan Shenghan composed himself and said naturally, “I owed a romantic debt years ago. I ran into the ‘creditor’ on the road and thought it best to hide, lest they go mad and beat you along with me.”

Shen Zhaoxue let out a cold sneer but didn’t respond. After a moment, he stood up. “I’m tired. I want to rest.”

Wan Shenghan assumed he was being dismissed and turned to leave, but Shen Zhaoxue suddenly tripped on his hem and lunged toward him. Wan Shenghan reached out to catch him, and was immediately met with a slap across the face.

Slap!

Both men seemed stunned, standing in silence. After a long while, Shen Zhaoxue said, “Sorry…”

Since he didn’t have much strength in his wrist, the slap while unexpected didn’t actually hurt much. Wan Shenghan helped him stand and murmured, “Forget it. You can’t see.” It likely wasn’t intentional.

Shen Zhaoxue offered him a small, pleasing curve of his eyes.

As the man’s footsteps receded, the smile vanished from Shen Zhaoxue’s face. He rubbed his fingertips together thoughtfully. He had touched the man’s face earlier; he vaguely remembered it wasn’t as rough as it felt just now.

Is he using a disguise? Which face is his true one?

Shen Zhaoxue decided to find another chance to test him. For now, he had more important things to handle: Chen Shi.

If he remembered correctly, the Chancellor would pass away around this time, and the foreign-blooded King would lose his restraint and rebel beyond the Pass. Chen Shi was a fool with no judgment of his own. When the King had come to the capital earlier for a banquet, the other princes had been too afraid to attend, knowing the Emperor was suspicious.

Only the foolish Chen Shi—who had no one to rely on after his mother died—had gone, hoping to curry favor by associating with the Emperor’s officials. He had been on friendly terms with the man. Now, with the King rebelling and Chen Shi delaying his return due to the flood, he would be linked to the traitors. It would lead to his death.

In the past, Shen Zhaoxue had argued for him. This time, he didn’t want to make it that easy for the boy. He needed to interfere.

What should I do?

Shen Zhaoxue lay back in his chair, thinking. Suddenly, his ears caught the sound of the manor gate opening from the outside. A stranger’s female voice called out to the man:

“Husband, is it truly alright for us to live together before the wedding?”