The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 32

His mind had always been sharp, adept at reading the room; the slightest shift in another’s gaze or expression could catch his attention.

Wan Shenghan knew this well. Seeing Shen Zhaoxue cast that lingering, hazy gaze toward him, he instinctively looked away and said, “If you are in a hurry to return to the capital, I will go find a carriage. We can set out once Chen Shi and the others have gained some distance.”

Shen Zhaoxue continued to study him with an inquiring look.

His eyes were still very uncomfortable, but he was more curious—Wan Shenghan had always been a straightforward person. Why was he now being so evasive, speaking in half-truths and refusing to be clear?

He lowered his eyes in deep thought for a moment before deciding on a plan, saying with a mask of compliance, “Fine.”

The matter seemed to pass just like that.

Wan Shenghan breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew in his heart that Shen Zhaoxue was likely still suspicious; it was merely that the youth lacked the energy to pursue it at this moment. Once the boy had free time later, he would surely dig to the root of it, determined to uncover every detail.

But how could some things ever be said?

Wan Shenghan let out a long sigh. Watching the youth’s receding back, he realized he couldn’t think of a single appropriate moment to vent all the thoughts in his heart to the other. They could only continue to hurt and deceive one another.

Shen Zhaoxue remained ill for several days, often confined to bed. By the time he boarded the carriage back to the capital, he still had a slight fever.

He leaned listlessly by the window. His eyes could now perceive things, but they remained blurred; reading and writing were still a struggle. Books had been prepared in the carriage, but he couldn’t read them, so he could only close his eyes for a nap or stare blankly at the passing scenery.

Having stayed in the palace for so long in his past life, he seemed to have forgotten that the world held such diverse landscapes. Seeing them again felt like an eternity had passed. Indeed… it was an eternity.

Shen Zhaoxue’s lashes flickered. The autumn sun was not too harsh, falling softly through the forest branches onto his brow. He couldn’t help but reach out to catch the light. The feeling of being alive was truly wonderful. Unless forced to an extreme, who would ever want to die?

He curled his fingers and quickly withdrew his hand, telling Wan Shenghan, “Water.”

He truly didn’t want to speak to the man. The things the other had done earlier were too nauseating he never imagined the man could go as mad as that. Forcing someone to kowtow for marriage, and making the wedding vows so venomous… what kind of couple marries like that?

Thinking of it made Shen Zhaoxue irritable; he wished he could strangle Wan Shenghan on the spot. Now, the man was acting honest, speaking with such caution all day as if Shen Zhaoxue were the one neglecting him.

Utterly speechless, Shen Zhaoxue took the cup, drank the water, and closed his eyes again.

Wan Shenghan finally spoke in a low voice. “I know you suspect Zhang Shu, but I am not close to him. My father doesn’t allow me much contact with him, and there is much about him I do not know.”

“In the Wan estate, it is clearly you who calls the shots,” Shen Zhaoxue said tonelessly. “Your father told you to stay away from Zhang Shu, yet you clearly didn’t listen.”

“It wasn’t like that in the earlier years,” Wan Shenghan whispered. “I only gradually took control recently.”

But Shen Zhaoxue knew nothing of the “recent years.” Having just been reborn, his knowledge of recent events was fragmented, gathered only from Chunya’s incomplete accounts. He remained silent, his face a mask of distrust.

Wan Shenghan felt compelled to add, “During these days Chen Shi was in town for the relief, I saw Zhang Shu following him.”

At this, Shen Zhaoxue finally showed an emotional spark, snapping his eyes open. “He is with Chen Shi?” he asked in surprise. “The day you took that detour on the road… was it because you ran into Zhang Shu?”

“Yes. I was using a disguise, so he shouldn’t have recognized me, but he was suspicious and probed into me privately several times.” He paused. “I borrowed the name and identity of a local merchant. A-Wu was the merchant’s fiancée, set to marry soon; I only brought her into the manor to hide from prying eyes.”

Shen Zhaoxue’s tone was flat. “I think you only wanted to hide from my eyes, so I wouldn’t know you intended to force a marriage.”

“Ah-Xue…”

“Stop playing the victim, Wan Shenghan,” Shen Zhaoxue said coldly. “The deed is done. What use is there in saying more?”

Wan Shenghan suddenly went silent. He didn’t seem capable of getting angry, even though Shen Zhaoxue’s words were so heartless. In his past life, when Shen Zhaoxue heard such words from others, he would be furious for a long time. At first, he would argue out of grief, but later, as his heart grew dark, he would simply have their tongues pulled out and clear them from his sight with cruel efficiency.

Over time, no one dared say such things to his face. Wan Shenghan was truly generous. Even after all this time, the man showed no anger or any other emotion.

Instead, it was Shen Zhaoxue who felt stifled. He didn’t even know who had actually committed the wrong anymore. Irritated to the extreme, he turned his face away out of sight, out of mind.

The journey back was dry and uneventful. They reached the outskirts of the capital on schedule. Wan Shenghan had borrowed the carriage and driver from the town; once at the city gates, he let them go.

Wan Shenghan stood before Shen Zhaoxue and reached out. “Your vision is still poor. Let me lead you”

Before he could finish, Shen Zhaoxue tucked his hands into his sleeves and walked ahead on his own. However, entry into the city required a permit, so he had to stop and wait for Wan Shenghan to bring him in.

“Whatever you wish to do now, I will accompany you,” Wan Shenghan said.

“Do you have no affairs of your own?” Shen Zhaoxue said flatly. “The imperial exams, family business, or taking a wife and concubines—are those not all matters? Why follow me?”

“I already have a wife, and I will not take concubines.”

Shen Zhaoxue thought he’d better be telling the truth. He let out a light huff, not bothering to care if the man was still following him. He headed straight for the Judicial Prison (Zhaoyu), only to be blocked by the guards.

Shen Zhaoxue tilted his head slightly to glance at Wan Shenghan. The man was quick on the uptake, pulling out several pieces of silver for the guards. The guards immediately allowed them through.

Shen Zhaoxue lifted his hem and stepped inside. Hearing the footsteps still following, he finally spoke: “Stand outside. You are not allowed to follow me in.”

Perhaps Wan Shenghan felt he was in the wrong; he had been very obedient lately, rarely going against Shen Zhaoxue’s words. He stayed right at the entrance. Shen Zhaoxue turned his gaze away, his face showing no emotion. Cold and detached, he vanished into the darkness.

The Judicial Prison held too many inmates and reeked of a foul odor. Shen Zhaoxue felt his stomach churn with nausea. He covered his nose and walked deeper into the prison. At the very end, he saw a prisoner who appeared to be Wan Jingyao, curled up on the straw, wretched and likely having been tortured.

Shen Zhaoxue moved a bit closer, but the stench was so overwhelming he nearly vomited. He bent over, covering his mouth until he regained his composure. Lifting his lashes, he saw the mound of flesh on the straw move; the prisoner had likely seen him.

Shen Zhaoxue closed his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to lower his hand, so he kept it over his face for a moment longer until he was mentally prepared. He looked back with a calm gaze.

Wan Jingyao was dazed. He had been in this prison for a long time; no one talked to him, and the guards ignored him. Sometimes, other prisoners would scream and be beaten by the guards. Every time it happened, Wan Jingyao felt deep regret. He shouldn’t have poisoned Shen Zhaoxue.

Or rather, he should have used a lethal poison to kill him directly. But thinking of the youth’s face, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He only wanted to teach him a lesson, to make him more submissive. Elder cousin treats him poorly too; why does he only save his cold face for me?

Wan Jingyao struggled between regret and resentment every day until he suddenly saw Shen Zhaoxue standing outside the bars, whole and healthy. He thought he was dreaming. The youth was as detached as ever; from his hair to his clothes, every detail was neat and rigid, yet he possessed the kind of beauty that made one want to mess him up and get him dirty.

“It has been a long time, Second Young Master,” Shen Zhaoxue said tonelessly.

“You…” Wan Jingyao’s voice was like sandpaper. “Why are you here?” Is he here to mock me? And his eyes—are they healed?

Shen Zhaoxue lifted his right hand. The wide sleeve slid down, revealing a snow-white, slender wrist. He brushed away a lock of hair from his shoulder and said softly, “I am here to bail you out.”

Wan Jingyao froze for a long time before lunging toward the bars with intense emotion. He hadn’t bathed in ages; he lived, ate, and slept in that cell. The moment he moved, a wave of stench hit Shen Zhaoxue.

He instinctively took two steps back and said muddledly, “I am going to ask your brother for the money. Wait here.” He turned and hurried out.

The moment he exited the prison, his vision blurred. He only had time to grab Wan Shenghan’s arm for support before leaning over and vomiting. Wan Shenghan patted his back. “I told you the prison environment would be too much for you. I could have spoken for you.”

He used a handkerchief to wipe the youth’s mouth. Shen Zhaoxue coughed for a long time until his cheeks were flushed. “Go send some things to the Court of State Ceremonies,” he whispered. “Bail Wan Jingyao out.”

“Where should he go once he’s out?”

“Anywhere is fine,” Shen Zhaoxue said. “Preferably near me.”

Wan Shenghan looked displeased but said nothing discouraging. “I’ll send someone once we’re back at the estate.”

As they walked back to the Wan manor, the man following him said, “The cousin’s family has already been split off, and he’s been in prison so long. Why bring him back to the estate? It’s bad luck.”

Shen Zhaoxue paused and cast a flat glance at Wan Shenghan. “If the Eldest Young Master is unwilling, I can move out with the Second Young Master.”

“No,” Wan Shenghan said. “Your eyes aren’t fully healed. Living with that useless fool who can’t care for himself  what if you get sick or hurt?”

Shen Zhaoxue walked on without responding. It was just a casual threat; he had no money, so he couldn’t actually leave. He still relied on the Wan family’s care. But he felt no guilt, treating it as his due.

“What would you like for dinner?” Wan Shenghan asked from behind. “I’ll have the kitchen prepare it early.”

“Anything.”

Wan Shenghan stopped following.

After ignoring the Eldest Young Master for several days, the Mid-Autumn Festival was fast approaching. The people of the capital loved the holiday, and every household was preparing.

Shen Zhaoxue had nothing to do, so he stayed in the side courtyard kitchen helping Chunya make mooncakes. Just as they were sending them to the oven, Wan Shenghan’s page knocked on the door. “The Second Young Master has returned to the estate,” he told Shen Zhaoxue. “The Eldest Young Master sent me to remind you to wait a few days before seeing him, lest you catch any lingering sickness from him.”

Shen Zhaoxue’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Where is the Eldest Young Master? At the academy?”

“Yes.”

He won’t truly give up his career, Shen Zhaoxue thought. It made sense; no one would joke with their future. The exams were a major event; why fail at the last step for minor things? It wasn’t Wan Shenghan’s style even if this version of him was different from his memory.

What was the Wan Shenghan I loved as a child like?

Shen Zhaoxue thought for a moment, then realized with a shock that he could no longer remember the man’s youthful face. How can that be? He pressed his temples. The more he thought, the more his head ached. He gave up and told Chunya, “I’m going to see the Second Young Master.”

Chunya gestured frantically in sign language: Didn’t the Eldest Young Master say he was worried you’d catch a sickness?

“It’s fine,” he said, smoothing his sleeves and heading out. “Watch the fire; don’t let them burn.”

His eyes were almost fully healed now, so finding his way wasn’t hard. But once in the garden, faced with the crisscrossing paths, he found himself stumped. He couldn’t remember where Wan Jingyao’s courtyard was.

He tapped his head, wondering why his memory was so poor. As the sun rose higher, he grew dizzy from the heat and simply picked a path by intuition.

Soon, an elegant and spacious courtyard appeared. He hurried inside for shade, but once under the veranda, he realized something was wrong. This place was too grand for a cousin.

It was Wan Shenghan’s courtyard.

Shen Zhaoxue intended to turn back immediately, but his body moved on its own. He walked through the corridor to the bedroom door and pushed it open. The room was filled with an elegant incense. Though books were piled everywhere, it was perfectly neat and filled with a scholarly atmosphere.

He’s been lying to me, Shen Zhaoxue thought. The man clearly loved his books; he’d been immersed in them since childhood. How could he not care about his career?

He surveyed the room. His gaze shifted, and he saw a small wooden figurine on top of the bookshelf. His vision allowed him to see it, but at that distance, it was blurred. Curiosity drove him to approach the shelf. He stood on his tiptoes to reach for the carving, but then he noticed strange symbols drawn around it.