The Mad Villain Driven to Death - Chapter 8

Shen Zhaoxue lifted his face in a daze. His pale skin was flushed with red, and his gaze was blurred and unfocused.

Wan Shenghan gave a light “Tsk” and said, “Don’t burn yourself into an idiot. Get up.”

Shen Zhaoxue sat there, unwilling to move.

With a cold face, Wan Shenghan stood up and grabbed Shen Zhaoxue by the arm. In the height of midsummer, clothing was always thin. He gripped Shen Zhaoxue’s arm and then slid his hand down to grasp the wrist. He was first startled by how thin this person was; the man had the skeletal frame of a male, yet he could encircle the wrist with a single hand.

Then, a scalding heat transmitted itself through the fabric. It seemed the fever was quite severe.

Wan Shenghan said, “What a bother.”

“It’s all because of your cousin,” Shen Zhaoxue said with a hint of grievance. “If he hadn’t shoved me out of the estate, I wouldn’t have suffered heatstroke today, let alone caught this cold.”

In that moment, it was impossible to say exactly when this accumulation of grievance and resentment had started. Perhaps it had been growing in his heart since the year he was summoned into the palace by Emperor Yuanshun—from the moment he knew he had lost his freedom—becoming something that could never be erased.

Wan Shenghan tugged him toward the bed. Behind him, Shen Zhaoxue mumbled, “If only you had come earlier.”

If he had come a few years earlier, a few hours earlier, or even a few moments earlier, perhaps Shen Zhaoxue would not have been reborn here carrying such an obsession. Before his death, he had truly asked for nothing more than to see Wan Shenghan.

Yet now that he had been reborn, Wan Shenghan was treating him like this.

Shen Zhaoxue sat on the bed with his head hanging low. Wan Shenghan went out for a moment and then had a servant bring a basin of cold water, placing it on the footstool by the bed.

Shen Zhaoxue’s ears began to throb with pain again. He frowned slightly and reached for his ear covers, but Wan Shenghan caught his wrist.

The man who had been sharp-tongued and cold since the rebirth was now rarely gentle. He said softly, “You are burning up right now; I fear you won’t be able to see my lips clearly. I will keep my voice low, so do not wear them for now.”

Shen Zhaoxue was too ill to argue. He obediently let go and waited for Wan Shenghan to take care of him.

Wan Shenghan said, “There was a physical reason for not letting you leave. If you ever mend your health so you aren’t falling ill every three to five days, I won’t restrain you so much.”

“You shouldn’t restrain me at all,” Shen Zhaoxue’s voice was thin and raspy, yet it sounded quite cold. “I am not a servant in your estate. I am merely staying at the Wan house temporarily; I should have my own life.”

“Your so-called ‘own life’ does it consist of befriending a group of profligates and following them to brothels to pick out girls?”

“And what if it does?”

Shen Zhaoxue thought to himself that he truly still held a grudge against Wan Shenghan. Even though he knew their past grievances were hard to settle, he couldn’t help but displace his anger. Because of this, their relationship since his rebirth had only grown worse, and it wasn’t entirely Wan Shenghan’s fault.

But he needed hatred. When he died in his previous life, he felt he owed Wan Shenghan, yet he also wanted to spite him; he had already possessed a death wish. If he hadn’t created a list of people for revenge, he might not have been able to endure living another life.

Thinking of this, he laughed again. Exhausted and weak, he leaned back against the bedpost and asked intentionally, “So, are you jealous? Are you unwilling to let me mingle with outsiders?”

As soon as he finished, his collar was suddenly grabbed by Wan Shenghan and pulled hard. A hand quickly cradled the back of his head, closing the distance between them.

With their noses almost touching, Shen Zhaoxue was momentarily stunned. He only heard Wan Shenghan say through gritted teeth, “Stop using such words and methods to try and provoke me.”

Shen Zhaoxue was accustomed to finding loopholes in others’ words to strike back. His eyes curved into crescents, and his lips brushed against the other’s as he whispered, “If you aren’t deeply in love with me, how could you be provoked by these words?”

Wan Shenghan remained unmoved. “I merely find you too frivolous.”

“Is that so?” Shen Zhaoxue said softly. “The one who wasn’t faithful… wasn’t me.”

In his previous life, while he was doing everything in the palace to ensure his own safety—navigating between various princes and Emperor Yuanshun—Wan Shenghan had already entered into an engagement with a girl from another family. He had likely long forgotten the promises he made, forgetting Shen Zhaoxue’s plight, and unhesitatingly discarded the “dodder flower” that had been clinging to the Wan family for sustenance.

Yes, Shen Zhaoxue suddenly thought, perhaps even then the heavens were reminding him that there was no fate between him and Wan Shenghan. Perhaps Wan Shenghan was not as perfect and flawless as he imagined.

Wan Shenghan didn’t speak further. He left Shen Zhaoxue’s bedside and went out the door. Shen Zhaoxue thought he had been chased away by anger, but before long, the man returned to the room and placed a bowl of medicine on the table.

Shen Zhaoxue truly couldn’t figure out what Wan Shenghan was thinking and couldn’t help but ask, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

“My ‘distant relative’ Young Master Li is gravely ill in my estate. As the host, I must care for him personally, lest he cry and scream to extort a large sum of money from my Wan family.”

“…” Shen Zhaoxue laughed out of spite. “Who cares for your bit of money.”

Wan Shenghan didn’t say a word. He simply leaned over, took away the quilt, and began to remove Shen Zhaoxue’s inner robe.

Startled, Shen Zhaoxue hurriedly grabbed his collar, shrinking back like a frightened bird. “What are you doing?”

“Did Young Master Li not say he didn’t care for the Wan family’s wealth? These clothes and bedding were all gifted by the Wan estate. Since you don’t want them, return them to me.”

“How truly stingy.” Shen Zhaoxue muttered a few words, lowered his head to undo his sash, and tidied his messy collar.

He rarely saw the sun, and his skin was fair and delicate, like a piece of white jade. Wan Shenghan stared at him for a moment. Shen Zhaoxue tilted an eyebrow, his crimson lips parting slightly; Wan Shenghan knew he was about to start his sarcasm again and hurriedly brought the medicine bowl over, shoving a spoon directly into the other’s mouth.

Shen Zhaoxue, who had been unflappable in his previous life, showed his true colors before Wan Shenghan. He immediately wrinkled his face. “So bitter.”

“Stop talking nonsense. Drink it quickly.”

“You did this on purpose, Wan Shenghan. Why wasn’t the medicine this bitter before?”

Wan Shenghan said coolly, “Good medicine is bitter to the taste. If what you drank before wasn’t bitter, it was for nothing—no wonder you fall for traps time and again.”

Shen Zhaoxue sneered, “Fallacious reasoning.”

“Ignorant and ill-informed.”

“Arrogant and conceited.”

After arguing with Wan Shenghan all night, Shen Zhaoxue was utterly exhausted. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.

During the night, he seemed to wake once. In a daze, he saw Wan Shenghan lighting a candle and using a cloth dipped in cold water to wipe his forehead and neck. Shen Zhaoxue was momentarily caught in a trance, not yet fully emerged from his dream; he thought he was still in the palace, serving as that low-ranking but powerful Right Envoy.

Nominally, he was just a minor official recording the Emperor’s daily life, yet he held immense power. Everyone in the palace had gone from looking down on him and intentionally humiliating him to fearing him. Shen Zhaoxue had long ago discarded his gentle and submissive side. He had to pave the way for Chen Shi’s future path to the throne, so he did everything possible to whisper slanders and flattery to Emperor Yuanshun.

Later, he stood alone in the court, holding the power of life and death. The worse his reputation became, the higher his nephew’s prestige would be when he eventually dragged him off the throne. So he did many bad things for that cause, his hands stained with the blood of countless people.

His health was poor. When he first entered the palace, Emperor Yuanshun had punished him several times, which had ruined his constitution, leading to frequent illnesses. During those times, he was always lonely; the person who had promised to stay with him forever had long ago broken that oath.

“You are a coward,” Shen Zhaoxue murmured. “Why have you come again? To see if I am dead?”

Wan Shenghan didn’t speak. Shen Zhaoxue knew that the person in his dreams wouldn’t speak; it was merely a person he had imagined. In places he didn’t know, Wan Shenghan had long ago found a new lover and had his own pursuits. They had walked completely opposite paths, destined to be at each other’s throats.

“I left a gift for you,” Shen Zhaoxue closed his eyes and whispered. “It’s on the bookshelf in my bedchamber. When I am dead, do not set a fire. You must find it yourself. At that time, you will surely remember me forever and ever.”

Shen Zhaoxue coughed heavily, then couldn’t help but laugh. “Who told me to… hate you so much.”

The hand wiping his forehead paused for a moment, then moved again, gently brushing over his face. Afterward, the man quietly carried the basin and left the side courtyard.

Shen Zhaoxue did not wake until noon the next day. His body was still heavy, and he had no strength to lift his hand and check his fever, so he could only lie there quietly for a while. Though he had no appetite, he was very hungry. He slowly sat up, put on his outer robe, and went to find Chunya.

But just like last time, the door had been locked from the outside by Wan Shenghan. It seemed the man didn’t intend to let him out until his illness was cured.

Truly fuming, Shen Zhaoxue paced the room until Wan Shenghan personally arrived to deliver lunch.

Shen Zhaoxue said, “Does the Eldest Young Master not have exams to attend to? Why run to my side courtyard all day?”

Wan Shenghan was unmoved. “Even if I lived in your courtyard all day, becoming the Top Scholar would still be a simple matter.”

Shen Zhaoxue felt he was dreaming. It was undeniable that Wan Shenghan was brilliant and strategic, but in the previous life, he couldn’t have become the Top Scholar without Shen Zhaoxue’s help and guidance. Without him, how could Wan Shenghan say such things so easily? He didn’t know which of them was the one muddled by fever.

Wan Shenghan laid out the food. Shen Zhaoxue searched for his silver needles with a somewhat morbid focus. “Where are my needles?”

“What do you need needles for? I wouldn’t actually poison your food.”

But this was a habit Shen Zhaoxue had formed over many years. He had to test each dish for poison before he could eat normally; otherwise, he would feel nauseous and vomit. Wan Shenghan didn’t ask further, waiting for Shen Zhaoxue to test everything before joining him with his own chopsticks.

Shen Zhaoxue was still thinking about leaving and eventually couldn’t help but say, “You cannot always stop me from going out.”

“Very well,” Wan Shenghan said coolly. “It is not impossible for you to move freely. But seeing as you fall ill time and again, and I have to spend my energy caring for you, it would be better to send you to the countryside as well. I shall pick you up once the examinations are over.”