Chapter 101

Chapter 101

In Wukang Marquis Residence, Qin Pengxun dismounted from the carriage still feeling uneasy.

The words Suhuai Jing said before leaving lingered in his mind, slowly merging with a vague image in his memory.

Autumn leaves frosted, covering the courtyard, where crowds had gathered from all directions to witness the drama unfold.

Officials from the Dali Temple stood at the courtyard, with the youngest and most handsome secretary holding a registry, verifying names at the gate until all 128 members of the Wukang Marquis Residence were arrested and taken to prison.

They watched the grandeur of feasts in high towers turn to ruins overnight. The once prominent and lively household became the stage for the most silent yet bustling, absurd yet beautiful downfall, attracting half of the city to witness this dramatic downfall.

Qin Pengxun gazed at the faces, both strange and familiar, heard their whispers, and observed their ceaseless chatter. Then, in the crowd, he saw a face that shouldn’t have any connection with him, yet strangely familiar.

His eyes widened in shock, his heart filled with immense grief and unheralded rage engulfing his reason. He pointed at the crowd, wanting to shout, “You missed one! He’s also from my uncle’s house!”

But the words that came out were just incoherent sounds.

He lost his voice.

He couldn’t speak.

He watched that person stand in the crowd, watching the annihilation of the Wukang Marquis Residence with cold and satisfied detachment, then lightly pinched his wrist, slightly nodding his head, and shifting his gaze elsewhere.

——Accompanied by the two princes who came with the Dali Temple for the raid.

Qin Pengxun raised his head and saw their faces, the Third Prince Sheng Chengxing and the Fifth Prince Sheng Chengli.

As autumn in the capital grew more profound, he stood voiceless, watching the person shift focus from his uncle’s residence to Sheng Chengxing, realizing with a sudden clarity, almost without need for confirmation:

——He was their next target.

It was this man who brought his uncle’s household to its downfall, and now he had set his sights on the two princes.

Qin Pengxun’s face showed panic and bewilderment, unable to comprehend how things had escalated to this point, nor could he understand why that person harbored such intense hatred towards them.

It was so clear…

He had even dismissed all the concubines in his mansion for him.

They were perfectly compatible and deeply in love.

Qin Pengxun was lost in confusion, repeatedly recalling the image of a bright pink begonia flower blooming in his mind.

Then that flower transformed into Su Huaijing.

The consort of Ningxuan Wang’s son, named by Emperor Ren Shou at the New Year’s Eve banquet, exceptionally admitted into the Imperial Censorate, a new favorite of the current dynasty.

Qin Pengxun couldn’t understand why this image suddenly appeared in his mind, just as he was clueless about why the Wukang Marquis’ residence was raided and decimated.

He was desperate to understand, but a voice inside kept warning him: Stay away from Su Huaijing!

Further away, even more distant. He is a man-eating demon, ready to tear off his pretense of kindness and warmth at any moment, indifferent yet seemingly benevolent, expressionlessly sending others to eternal damnation.

His instinctual desire for survival told him to keep his distance, but the incessant doubts in his heart compelled Qin Pengxun to subconsciously seek answers from Su Huaijing.

Were they ever that intimate? Was it really him who caused the downfall of the Wukang Marquis’ residence? Why revenge, and how could he go to such extremes?

More importantly, how was it done?

Even now, with these questions negated by the non-existent begonia birthmark, he couldn’t help but ponder over them.

As the winter snow in the capital began to melt and the sun broke through the sky, he remained deeply troubled by this issue.

His father was a great hero with meritorious service, not someone who could be easily framed to the point of having their household raided and executed.

Did Su Huaijing do something, or…

What did Father do?

Qin Pengxuan's brow furrowed deeply, feeling agitated as he walked towards the courtyard, not paying attention and bumping into a servant carrying clothes.

Without thinking, he kicked out, scolding, "Are you blind?"

The servant fell to the ground, and Qin Pengxuan glanced at him before looking away, muttering, "Bad luck!"

His attitude was arrogant and domineering, a far cry from the hesitant, fearful demeanor he had shown in front of Su Huaijing, wanting to approach yet restraining himself.

He arrived at his own courtyard, filled with concubines.

Qin Pengxuan's gaze lazily swept over their faces, quickly losing interest.

Before, he didn't find them particularly stunning, but those inexplicable memories had taken root in his mind, let alone the imposing and solemn presence of Su Huaijing at the Imperial Censorate, with his captivating beauty in every smile and frown.

Even Su Huaijing's cold, dignified demeanor was tantalizingly attractive.

Feeling a warmth in his belly, Qin Pengxuan casually grabbed a maid and asked, "Where is Lady Li?"

The maid trembled, bowing her head tightly, "Answering the Young Master, Miss Pan Yan has been summoned by the madam to the Buddhist hall for prayers."

Qin Pengxuan furrowed his brows.

The Lady of the Manor was not his birth mother and had always looked upon him unfavorably. Last year, due to Li Panyan's pregnancy, she vented her anger on her, constantly chanting and copying scriptures in the Buddhist hall – a method of torment without shedding blood. Li Panyan was not the only one in the manor who had suffered this ordeal.

Qin Pengxuan didn't really want to interfere. He turned to leave, seeking pleasure elsewhere, but then he remembered Su Huaijing's smiling request to 'take good care of him,' which made him pause and change his destination.

They were cousins after all; there should be some similarities.

Thinking thus, Qin Pengxuan had long since cast aside the sense of crisis he had barely managed to pick up.

-

In Da Yu's capital, officials like Shen Chu ended their shifts, and to prevent accidents, carriages moved slowly through the city.

It took nearly half an hour to travel from the Imperial Censorate to Yong'an Lane.

The setting sun cast a golden hue, painting half the sky with orange clouds.

Su Huaijing had been suppressing his emotions all the way, but by the time the carriage stopped, he had adjusted his expression, wearing his usual composed smile. Holding the snacks he bought for Rong Tang, he walked slowly towards the mansion.

It was now late in the first lunar month, and the weather was warming. The pear trees in the courtyard were budding with snow-white blossoms.

Looking up at them, Su Huaijing thought these flowers might be used to brew a light wine for Tang Tang.

What a drunkard.

He curved his lips into a smile and instinctively headed towards the study. On the way, he saw Shuangfu carrying a pot of hot tea, hurrying towards the garden.

Su Huaijing stopped him, "Where are you going?"

Shuangfu hesitated, first greeting respectfully, then said, "The young master is meeting someone in the pavilion. I'm going to bring fresh tea."

Su Huaijing asked, "What guest? Why not meet in the living room?"

Although the temperature was warming, it was still relatively cold compared to the chilliest days. The spring cold in the capital meant Rong Tang would surely catch a chill if he stayed outside too long.

Without a second thought, Su Huaijing turned towards the garden, only to hear Shuangfu call from behind, "The young master said the room was too warm with the fire, making him feel dizzy. Outside might be chilly, but it's refreshing."

He paused, then added, "It's the Fifth Prince who has come."

Su Huaijing's steps faltered, stopping in his tracks, unusually confirming again after getting an answer, "Who did you say has come?"

Shuangfu, caught off guard, almost collided with his back. Steadying the teapot, he took a step back and said somewhat puzzled, "It's the Fifth Prince."

Su Huaijing fell silent for a moment, then exchanged the snacks in his hand for Shuangfu's teapot, instructing, "Ask the kitchen to prepare dinner, include a warming cordyceps soup, and start serving at the second quarter of the You hour."

Shuangfu acknowledged, then hesitated slightly, pointing at the teapot, "Then this..."

"I'll take it," said Su Huaijing. "Tell the kitchen to boil more hot water and bring out some dried mugwort to keep ready. After dinner, we'll have Tang Tang fumigate with it."

Shuangfu instantly tensed, "Is the young master in pain again?"

Su Huaijing's expression turned slightly cold, "No."

Shuangfu: "?"

"Go away, dispel the bad luck," Su Huaijing said.

He dismissed the servants and walked quickly towards the octagonal pavilion, a pace he himself hadn't noticed.

With each step, the barely suppressed killing intent began to seep out, threatening to engulf him.

Inside the pavilion, Rong Tang, wrapped in a large cloak and holding a hand warmer, looked up quietly at the person standing before him.

As the most important protagonist in the book, the author had described Sheng Chengli's appearance as delicate and handsome more than once.

Delicately beautiful in his youth, he later became handsomely refreshing.

The mole near his eye, like a captivating living creature, drew everyone in the original story, even those who initially despised or underestimated him. Over time, they either willingly became his tools or were utterly humiliated, losing all their pride and begging at his feet for his forgiveness and mercy.

From his looks to his intellect, he was exceptional in every aspect.

And with his previous life's death and all the experiences in this reborn life, Rong Tang realized that the person before him had a level of ruthlessness unmatched by anyone.

Facing Sheng Chengli, Rong Tang was the first to break the silence, "May I know the purpose of Your Highness's visit?"

His tone was calm and natural, with an innate nobility, yet also an aloofness that kept others at a distance. He spoke flatly, without subservience or any unnecessary emotions.

A flicker of surprise crossed Sheng Chengli's face, which quickly settled into calmness. He spoke softly, "I've heard that cousin has been in good health. I wanted to visit, but I was confined in the cold palace and couldn't leave. I fell ill at the Flower Picking Festival, and the brief encounter there caused cousin to faint. I've felt guilty ever since and wanted to meet you, but I couldn't leave the palace. Our brief meeting at the palace banquet was too rushed for conversation."

He paused, his gaze reflecting Rong Tang's figure, focused as if he could only see him in the entire world. In a gentle voice, he asked, "In a few days, I'll be leaving the capital. I don't know when I'll return, and whether you'll remember me when I do. So I asked the Emperor's permission to see you before leaving. How have you been this past year? Have you felt unwell?"

The evening glow spread across the sky, the wind rustled the willows by the lake, clouds drifted slowly, and the ice-broken surface of the lake reflected myriad images.

Rong Tang looked puzzled, not understanding why he was so familiar with him. He slightly furrowed his brows, then relaxed them, replying appropriately, "Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. I have always been frail and am used to it."

Sheng Chengli stepped forward anxiously, his expression filled with suppressed sorrow: "Cousin, remember not to overexert yourself with worries. Taking good care of your health is what's most important."

Rong Tang nodded, pouring himself a cup of tea. He frowned slightly when the tea turned out to be cold, feeling displeased. He replied perfunctorily, "The mansion has a doctor for regular care, and Huaijing handles all household affairs. I don’t need to worry about anything and have been resting well. Thank you for your concern, Your Highness."

He paused, then added, "His Majesty respects my grandmother and values my father, which is why our royal kinship continues. Your Highness addressing me as 'cousin' is a courtesy, but technically, it's against the protocol. It's better to call me by my name."

It's quite disgusting.

Rong Tang's attention drifted as he turned to look for Shuangfu, wondering why it was taking so long to bring hot tea. His eyes brightened upon seeing a figure in an azure robe at the corner. He was about to get up to greet, but then he heard Sheng Chengli's voice from behind, sounding both wronged and pitiful, with a hint of tears.

"Cousin, do you not want me anymore?"