Chapter 166

Chapter 166

Liuyun would not feel guilty for killing Rong Tang; even if it was a mistake, from his standpoint at that time, if Rong Tang was harmful to Su Huaijing, he had to be eliminated.

His attitude changed because Su Huaijing came to see Rong Tang as his life, so Liuyun also had to prioritize Rong Tang’s safety.

Thus, it wasn’t really an apology, at most… perhaps it was an explanation, regardless of whether Rong Tang understood, to inform him why he had been poisoned back then.

But…

Rong Tang, during those silent minutes, wondered why.

How did Liuyun know for sure that he would pose a threat to Su Huaijing? Was it just from their casual conversation beside a blooming peony at the Zhehua meeting?

At that time, with the inherent one-sided perception of Su Huaijing as the villain in the book, Rong Tang felt a wordless panic and fear from Su Huaijing's remarks. But now, after experiencing several lifetimes, Rong Tang didn’t think their conversation ended on a bad note.

In fact, knowing Su Huaijing too well, he was even more certain that Su Huaijing’s villainous demeanor was relaxed then, even subtly pleased.

If so, if Rong Tang could understand Su Huaijing’s mood, how could Liuyun, who had always protected him from the shadows, not see that Su Huaijing was actually happy spending time with him during the flower viewing?

Based on this premise, Liuyun's action against him seemed illogical.

Rong Tang furrowed his brows and looked earnestly at Liuyun, waiting for an answer.

Liuyun hesitated, unable to conceal his surprise, but quickly lowered his gaze, as if admitting, or perhaps apologizing. To some extent, there was also an imperceptible sense of relief.

Liuyun nodded: "Yes."

Rong Tang pressed further: "Why?"

Liuyun was taken aback, opened his mouth, but couldn’t respond immediately.

Why?

He himself wasn't clear about it.

The dreams were chaotic and disordered; he only remembered drugging Rong Tang's cup and the moment of bewildered confusion on his master's face when Rong Tang's death was announced.

Oddly, he hadn't voluntarily told Shu Huaijing that Rong Tang was killed by him.

In this life, Liuyun could understand why Shu Huaijing would act that way, but the "self" in the dream was even more bewildered than Shu Huaijing.

It was just the death of one person, even an enemy's son, a strategist of the opposing faction. Rong Tang's death should have pleased Shu Huaijing.

But in reality, the master began to daydream occasionally.

Stopping to look at a flower, pausing in the middle of a chess game, occasionally drinking wine under the moonlight at the gilt tower, catching sight of the lanterns below, and unconsciously turning his head with a smile calling, "Young Master..."

—But there was no such young master by his side, sickly and on the verge of death yet resiliently surviving year after winter year, each appearance like a miracle.

So the smile on his lips silently faded away. He lifted the cup to his lips, drinking a sip of light wine, then set down the cup and continued on the path he was meant to walk.

There was no significant change. Even the flowing clouds in his dreams didn’t understand what the subtly revealed emotions in those minute details really meant.

He wouldn’t be haunted by a lifetime of obsession just because he killed someone. He was only haunted in his midnight dreams by Su Huaijing’s unspoken obsessions, reencountering bits of reality hidden beneath the whirlwind of events.

Yet, even so, Liuyun couldn’t understand why he had that dream; his mind struggled to process these overly delicate and sensitive emotions.

He just instinctively thought for a moment upon hearing Rong Tang’s question, then slightly furrowed his brows, recalling the nearly elusive images from his dream, and whispered in reply, "Someone sent me a letter, saying you rejected the master’s invitation, choosing to stand against him, as enemies in life and death."

'Enemies in life and death' was a kind of threat, but such a threat meant nothing to a warrior whose strength was in martial arts and who had a simple mind.

Just kill him.

Killing was the easiest thing to do.

Thinking this way, he naturally acted upon it. Following Su Huaijing’s close associates, each of them had countless poisons and antidotes. There were far too many ways to make someone die.

Hearing this answer, Rong Tang was stunned for a second, then opened his mouth and softly exclaimed, "Ah, who sent you the letter?"

Liuyun shook his head: "I don’t know."

Rong Tang lowered his head, choosing not to ask further.

After a while, he chuckled lightly, as if he had finally understood a question that had troubled him for years.

-

They had arrived at the Administrative Hall. The autumn day was cool. Sheng Chengli, having just recovered from illness, was dressed in a thick cotton garment, standing at the palace gate. Seeing Rong Tang walking up on foot, he frowned and asked coldly, "Don't you know that the prince is frail? Why isn’t there a sedan prepared?"

Several eunuchs faltered, looking up in surprise, wanting to glance at the fifth prince, but quickly reminded by their instinct for survival in the palace, they knelt down, pleading, "We have erred, please forgive us, Your Highness!"

Rong Tang watched their theatrical display, finding it rather dull, and remained silent.

After waiting a moment, Sheng Chengli said, "Leave and accept your punishment."

The eunuchs immediately looked pitifully at Rong Tang, who didn’t meet their gaze but turned his head and coughed softly, asking, "Aren’t I summoned for a matter? Why discuss it here in the draft?"

Sheng Chengli was taken aback, then put on a smile, stepping aside and softening his tone, "It's my oversight, cousin, please don’t take offense."

Rong Tang glanced at him, then walked into the hall, signaling with his eyes for Liuyun to wait outside.

As for those eunuchs dragged away by the guards... frankly, Rong Tang couldn’t be bothered.

Inside the inner hall, early autumn wasn’t too cold. The room wasn’t heated, but the space for imperial affairs was bright enough, as if bathed in daylight.

A seat was newly placed next to the usual desk of the Emperor, where Sheng Chengli sat, accompanied by another person dressed in official attire, holding paper and pen, seemingly a court scribe.

After inviting Rong Tang to sit, Sheng Chengli said with a smile, "Don’t be offended, cousin. Recently, there’s been some gossip in the palace involving the heir, causing outrage among the royal relatives. We had to be cautious, hence inviting you to the palace for a chat."

Rong Tang raised his eyelids, repeating in a flat tone, "Inviting?"

Sheng Chengli laughed, admitting, "It was indeed abrupt, please don’t be offended, cousin."

Rong Tang then relaxed his gaze, exuding a laid-back demeanor, showing little interest in looking at him.

Unperturbed, Sheng Chengli ordered tea for Rong Tang and dismissed the attendants, leaving only the three of them in the large hall.

Rong Tang furrowed his brows slightly but soon relaxed them, his gaze briefly resting on the scribe for a fleeting second.

Sheng Chengli, with an air of righteousness, said, "Please invite cousin to the palace. I imagine cousin also anticipated this. Having been away from the capital for so long, has Ning Xuan Wang ever written home?"

Rong Tang was momentarily stunned, then realized that to prevent the citizens from thinking that Dayu had ministers and princes frequently rebelling, almost no one knew that Rong Mingyu had actually been executed.

His gaze shifted slightly, he composed himself and shook his head firmly, "I don't know."

Sheng Chengli was taken aback, and Rong Tang said, "I do not reside in the royal mansion."

The implication was that even if Rong Mingyu sent letters back to the capital, he wouldn't be aware of them.

Unsure of what Sheng Chengli made of this, his expression turned colder and more sinister, the pretense of fraternal respect vanished. He relaxed his posture, lifted his head slightly, and looked down at Rong Tang with an almost disdainful gaze, slowly saying, as if troubled, "Then what should be done? The royal bloodline must not be tainted, and now that Lord Ning Xuan cannot be found anywhere, cousin, can you teach me how to prove that my eighth brother and the Lord have no blood relation?"

Cousin, can you teach me...

Sir, can you teach me...

Memories of death forcefully crashed into his mind, leaving Rong Tang unhappy, he pursed his lips and looked at Sheng Chengli.

The man's lips curved into a smile, and the tear mole under his eye radiated an astonishing beauty under the candlelight.

But Rong Tang only felt disgusted, his voice cold as he asked, "What does Your Highness want me to do?"

Sheng Chengli replied, "I really don’t know, that's why I invited my cousin to the palace. You're so clever; please enlighten Chengli, to spare our mother the daily sorrow of weeping."

Rong Tang's gaze became sharp in an instant, staring intensely at Sheng Chengli, who met his gaze with a smile, but with no good intentions.

Rong Tang remained silent for a moment, looking at the cloth band tied around Sheng Chengli's wrist, feeling a wave of revulsion.

He spoke deliberately, "Your Highness's act of bloodletting to save the Emperor is a touching display of filial piety. As my father, following imperial orders, is touring Dayu and currently untraceable, if we wish to quickly eliminate any doubts regarding the Crown Prince’s lineage, it seems… I could undergo a blood test with him."

This was the least scientific method, but people in ancient times believed in it, especially since the issue of the eighth prince's lineage had been raised previously due to bloodletting for medicine. Now, Sheng Chengli was pressing for this very answer.

As expected, as soon as Rong Tang finished speaking, Sheng Chengli appeared troubled, hesitating, "But cousin, you have always been unwell. If you were to lose more blood…"

Blood testing, turned into bloodletting.

A sarcastic smile curled at Rong Tang’s lips, "For the legitimacy of the position of the eighth prince as the heir apparent, what harm is there if I bleed to death?"

His voice, light and floating in the hall, carried an inexplicable weight like a mountain.

Sheng Chengli fell silent, his smile slowly flattening, looking intently at Rong Tang, asking softly, "Is this really what you think of me, cousin?"

Rong Tang countered, "Does Your Highness not wish for my death?"

In such an absurd conversation, the scribe showed no surprise, meticulously continuing to write on the paper.

Rong Tang glanced at him again, feeling his heart sinking.

It was then that Sheng Chengli asked, "Is it I who wants you dead, or you who wish to kill me?"

The tone was so bitter, the words so aggrieved, as if Rong Tang was the most heartless person in the world, guilty of countless betrayals.

The tea on the table had gone cold. Rong Tang leaned back and looked directly at Sheng Chengli.

But he heard Sheng Chengli say, "Rong Tang, you were supposed to save me. From the very beginning, you should have resolutely stood by my side, even if it meant killing Su Huaijing."

Sheng Chengli seemed both puzzled and deeply pained, his voice hoarse as he asked, "But how did it come to this?"

As Rong Tang listened to these words, he thought to himself that he must remember them verbatim, to repeat them to Su Huaijing, telling him how many disgusting words he had to endure because of his momentary carelessness.

Suppressing the rising nausea, Rong Tang looked at him with a cold face, impatiently asking, "What are you actually barking about?"

Usurping the throne, theft, lying, betrayal...

Even criminals in the heavenly prison awaiting execution were not as repulsive as Sheng Chengli, who had the audacity to come before him and blatantly lie.

Rong Tang had truly opened his eyes.