The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 6

Wan Shenghan seemed to have some sort of ailment; the moment Shen Zhaoxue left the side courtyard, he watched him closely and forbade him from wandering. Shen Zhaoxue initially thought the man was worried he would cause trouble for Wan Jingyao, but he later realized something was off. No matter where he intended to go, someone would block his path and tell him to return to his courtyard early.

Shen Zhaoxue did not consider himself a prisoner; he was merely staying at the Wan estate, not Wan Shenghan’s possession. Why should he listen to him?

It was fortunate that Wan Jingyao was so foolish and easily deceived had he not just used the boy’s hand to leave the Wan estate?

Shen Zhaoxue felt a bit smug. Thinking of Chunya, who had hurried out of the courtyard earlier, he guessed she must have gone to the bookstore to deliver the transcribed manuscripts. Thus, he followed the route in his memory toward the bookstore.

Halfway there, he suddenly stopped and removed his ear covers. He forced himself to endure the clamor of the crowd which was deafeningly noisy to him and continued forward.

However, Shen Zhaoxue had been in the palace for ten years. For those ten entire years, he had first been monitored by Emperor Yuanshun, unable to move a single step or even know what was happening in the outside world. The Shen family’s massacre in Lingdu and the cooling of Wan Shenghan’s career were things he only heard the Emperor mention with indifference long after they occurred.

Later, he supported his nephew’s ascension to the throne. His nephew was young and impetuous back then, unable to sustain the weight of the empire alone. Shen Zhaoxue had no choice but to remain in the palace, wasting ten years of his life. He had not left the Imperial Palace in a very long time; on the few occasions he accompanied the sovereign on “incognito” tours, he merely sat in a carriage for a casual stroll.

He had long since forgotten what this place looked like.

Shen Zhaoxue spent nearly half an hour wandering based on his fragmented, incomplete memories. Finally, gasping for breath and covering his ears, he found a small stall to sit for a while. He thought to himself that he had actually managed to get lost here.

The sun overhead grew increasingly scorching. Shen Zhaoxue began to feel dizzy. He couldn’t keep his eyes on the road; the sunlight was exceptionally piercing, so much so that he couldn’t see clearly. He tugged at his collar. Midsummer in the capital was muggy and hot—hardly a suitable time for travel—but if he waited a few more months, it might be too late.

Shen Zhaoxue could only force himself to look up and survey the surrounding buildings and shops, trying to find a trace of familiarity so he could quickly find Chunya and take her away.

The wonton stall received more guests, and An Yu felt it inappropriate to occupy the shop’s chair any longer. He had no choice but to stand up and keep walking. The humid weather made his breathing labored, and the chaotic noise nearby made him nauseous.

This body is truly useless.

Shen Zhaoxue leaned against a wall to catch his breath. From the corner of his eye, he saw a group of people walking toward him, talking and laughing. He instinctively moved aside to let them pass. As several noble sons brushed past him, Shen Zhaoxue’s muddled thoughts suddenly cleared. He lunged forward and grabbed the sleeve of the man in the center.

The man was startled. “Who are you?”

As soon as the words were spoken, Shen Zhaoxue lifted his head, revealing a pale but beautiful face. However, he looked incredibly weak; his lips were devoid of color, and cold sweat clung to his forehead.

Shen Zhaoxue’s lips moved as he voiced soundlessly: “Help me.”

“This gentleman,” the youth in brocade hurried to support Shen Zhaoxue’s swaying body, lowering his voice. “What is wrong?”

“A-Luo, this looks like the ‘famine sickness’.”

“I think it looks like heatstroke. It’s so hot today, and this gentleman looks sickly; he likely can’t withstand such heat.”

The youths chattered all at once. The one called A-Luo hesitated for a moment and said, “The clinic is quite far from here, this—”

“No need for a clinic,” Shen Zhaoxue said piteously. “I only need to sit and rest for a moment.”

“But we are going to…” A-Luo looked troubled. “We are going to the brothel…”

Shen Zhaoxue nearly lost control of his expression. He thought to himself that these noble sons were actually engaging in debauchery in broad daylight—what a group of useless, unlearned wastes. He gave a light cough and could only compromise: “No matter. Just leave me here.”

“That doesn’t seem proper,” A-Luo said to his companions. “Why don’t we bring him along? One more person won’t matter.”

“A guest is a guest. If you don’t mind, A-Luo, then naturally we won’t mind either.”

Shen Zhaoxue breathed a long sigh of relief.

But he minded. He had lived for over thirty years and had rarely traveled; he had never been to such a place of “flowers and willows.” To mysteriously go to a brothel with a group of noble sons he didn’t even know felt awkward no matter how he thought about it, yet he had no other choice.

Shen Zhaoxue followed the youths into the brothel with a forced smile. Just before entering, he saw the bookstore he had been searching for right at the mouth of the alley. He was momentarily speechless. He didn’t have time to see if Chunya was inside before he was supported into the brothel by A-Luo and the others and taken into a private room.

The building was filled with the scents of powder and incense, which were unpleasant to Shen Zhaoxue. He covered his nose, then lowered his hand to take the water cup A-Luo handed him, saying softly, “Thank you.”

Several youths gathered outside the room to pick out girls, but A-Luo did not join them. He sat beside Shen Zhaoxue, staring at the other’s face. For a moment, he couldn’t look away and asked blankly, “Which family’s son are you? I haven’t seen you before. Did you arrive in the capital recently?”

Shen Zhaoxue said without a change in expression, “Yes. My family has just held a funeral. I am alone and came to the capital to find a distant relative, though I do not know if they are willing to take me in.”

A-Luo felt pity in his heart and couldn’t help but offer, “If—”

“A-Luo,” a companion sat down behind him. “What are you two chatting about?”

A-Luo ignored them and asked again, “Is it convenient for you to tell me your name?”

Shen Zhaoxue’s lips moved as he lied through his teeth: “My surname is Li.”

“Young Master Li, a pleasure to meet you,” the youths were quite enthusiastic, pointing at A-Luo. “You might not know, but this is the Fifth Prince.”

Shen Zhaoxue immediately rose and knelt respectfully. “Greetings to His Highness the Fifth Prince.”

Chen Luo hurriedly supported his arm and helped him up. “Young Master Li, no need for such formalities. Since we’ve exchanged names, we are friends. How is your health now?”

“Much better,” Shen Zhaoxue sighed and bowed to take his leave. “Thank you all for your hospitality—”

“It looks like it’s about to rain outside,” someone said. “Why don’t we hang out for a bit and wait for the rain to stop?”

Shen Zhaoxue looked out the window; indeed, dark clouds had gathered, and a sudden downpour might fall at any moment. His fingertips beneath his sleeve curled slightly. He put on a hesitant look, and Chen Luo added his persuasion: “Your distant relatives might not be willing to take you in. I’ll be titled and moving out of the palace in two days; you can stay at my manor for a while.”

Shen Zhaoxue could only thank him. “I shall trouble His Highness, then.”

“No trouble,” Chen Luo said, catching a glimpse of the fair, delicate skin on the back of the other’s neck. His heart felt as though ants were crawling over it, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. “You look so familiar to me.”

A companion laughed, “A-Luo, how have you started using ‘it feels like meeting an old friend’ as a pick-up line? Young Master Li is a man, not a woman; speaking this way is likely improper.”

Shen Zhaoxue quickly waved his hand. “No matter. I don’t mind.”

The youths began to drink and chat cheerfully. Shen Zhaoxue sat silently to the side, his thoughts somewhat in disarray. He had always known that Chen Luo disliked studying matters of state and spent his days traveling with profligate friends, but he hadn’t expected to run into him at this time.

Chen Luo had a bad relationship with his nephew, Chen Shi; their resentment went back a long way. In his previous life, Shen Zhaoxue had met Chen Luo a few times in the palace. Chen Luo loathed Chen Shi’s uncle as well, and seeing Shen Zhaoxue’s low rank, he frequently mocked him.

The most outrageous time was during a palace banquet. Shen Zhaoxue was beside Emperor Yuanshun recording the proceedings. Chen Luo, drunk, pointed at Shen Zhaoxue and asked the Emperor to “lend” him for the night. He wanted Shen Zhaoxue to pour wine for him. Emperor Yuanshun merely surveyed Shen Zhaoxue for a moment before nodding in agreement. Back then, Shen Zhaoxue held no power; how could he defy the sovereign? He could only rise and descend the steps.

Chen Luo then intentionally made things difficult: “A low-ranking slave—how can you walk over here?”

Shen Zhaoxue had stopped in his tracks.

He gripped the cup in his hand tightly, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. After a long while, he settled his mind again and continued to endure the noise among the noble sons, pushing the humiliation Chen Luo had given him to the back of his mind.

Outside, the rain had begun to patter. Shen Zhaoxue tried his best not to recall the past, fearing he couldn’t control his temper, yet he couldn’t help but think of a certain midsummer rainy day.

By that time, he had become the powerful and low-ranking treacherous official Shen Zhaoxue. He used excuses to eradicate the forces of several princes—some died, the Crown Prince fled, and the last to be dealt with was Chen Luo.

Shen Zhaoxue stood in the rain holding an umbrella. His white robes were exceptionally striking in the dim, rainy day, his sleeves fluttering like an immortal from the heavens. Yet at his feet lay a ground covered in blood that was completely out of place.

The high and mighty Fifth Prince Chen Luo who had once made him crawl before the crowd like a dog—had been deprived of his limbs and tongue, tied to a wooden stake like a monster.

Shen Zhaoxue’s expression was flat. He handed the umbrella to Zhang Shun and said coolly, “What a pity. A rainy day is not suitable for a fire.” Otherwise, he would have preferred to watch Chen Luo burn to death rather than let him off so easily.

He sighed, took a bow and arrow, and used all the strength in his frail arms to draw the string. The arrow was aimed squarely at Chen Luo’s head.

Swish—

BOOM!

A thunderclap exploded by the window, vibrating so hard that Shen Zhaoxue’s ears suddenly throbbed with unbearable pain. He couldn’t help but let out a muffled groan and covered his ears.

Chen Luo had been watching Shen Zhaoxue distractedly. Seeing his sudden distress, he felt a surge of panic and hurriedly put an arm around his shoulder. “Young Master Li, what is wrong?”

Before Shen Zhaoxue could respond, the room door was kicked open from the outside, slamming heavily against the wall.

The youths were all startled. Shen Zhaoxue also turned his head in shock, only to see a person who should not have appeared here standing outside the door with a dark expression, his clothes and hair slightly damp as if he had been caught in the rain.

While Shen Zhaoxue was still in a daze, he heard someone say, “Isn’t this the Eldest Young Master of the Wan family?”