Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Xiao Nong’s response was light and casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The two hidden guards perched in the tree were dumbfounded.

Apart from that useless cousin who couldn’t be relied on for anything, when did their master have another younger brother?

We know you’re thick-skinned, but why did you even acknowledge it?

Zhong Yansheng had been hesitant at first, but upon hearing the response, he confirmed in his heart that the person before him was indeed the real young master he had never met.

His gaze swept over the wheelchair the other sat in and the thin veil covering his eyes, feeling a complex mix of emotions.

He knew the real young master was ill, but he hadn’t expected the condition to be so severe—needing a wheelchair and a veil to shield his eyes from light.

Even in such a state, to protect him, Marquis Huai'an and the Lady of the Manor had left him alone in this secluded courtyard.

A heavy weight settled in Zhong Yansheng’s chest, guilt and a sense of wrongdoing pressing down on him so much that he couldn't lift his head. He bit his lip, and all the words he had prepared before coming here suddenly stuck in his throat.

The real young master recognized him at first sight.

At a time like this, saying he was willing to leave the Marquisate and return what rightfully belonged to him... aside from whether it was believable, it sounded too much like pity and charity.

Zhong Yansheng thought that if he were in the same position, he wouldn’t be happy either.

His mind was in turmoil, unsure of what to do, when a sudden chill touched his chin. Something sharp and cold, like a venomous snake, pressed against his jaw.

Zhong Yansheng froze, lifting his head to follow the sensation.

When he fell, a few strands of his hair had come loose. The smooth black strands slid down with his movement, brushing past his porcelain-white cheek and grazing the blade offered by the person in the wheelchair, silently severing a few strands.

Beneath the black hair, a face filtered through the white veil appeared even more strikingly beautiful, almost blinding.

Those eyes, dark as ink, had a translucent quality like glass, with a touch of red at the corners that should have made them appear rich and seductive. However, because of the purity of the irises, there was a strange yet harmonious contradiction, radiating a vibrant youthfulness.

Xiao Nong's gaze paused, slowly moving downward to rest on the neck hidden beneath the collar.

The cold tip of the sword rested there, where the thin skin revealed faint blue veins. A slight scratch would cause blood to spurt out.

Xiao Nong propped his elbow on the armrest of the wheelchair, supporting his chin, holding the sword in one hand, and casually lifted Zhong Yansheng’s chin with the tip of the blade, making a brief evaluation.

Weak and frail. Slow and sluggish. Dull and unresponsive.

Like a beautifully feathered little bird, utterly defenseless.

Who sent you?

Recalling the sound of this little bird’s voice, he spoke lazily, “Sing again.”

It sounded quite pleasant; he might as well kill him after hearing it once more.

How many pieces should he cut him into?

Zhong Yansheng’s long lashes trembled, his lips pressed tightly together, breathing rapidly.

Was this... a sign of unwelcome?

The hidden guards in the shadows had already silently prepared cleaning tools, feeling quite melancholic.

When their master suffered from his headaches, the calmer his expression, the more agitated his mood. At such times, even they dared not show themselves.

This pretty boy must have come from somewhere. If the master were in a good mood, he might have spared his life.

Just as they thought this, Zhong Yansheng took a step forward, his voice soft and obedient, calling out, “Brother?”

The sharp edge of the sword instantly left a fine line of blood on his neck, stark against his alabaster skin. One more push, and no physician could save Zhong Yansheng.

At that moment, Xiao Nong caught a whiff of a peculiar fragrance, wafting strongly from in front of him. It was hazy, like the damp scent of flowers in the morning mist, warmly enveloping his senses.

During his headaches, besides the intense pain in his head, Xiao Nong’s five senses were also tormented. Everything in the air was nauseating, making his blood boil and his body burn. But this scent somehow slightly alleviated the intense discomfort.

Even a slight relief was a great comfort.

And the source of this scent seemed unaware, only feeling a slight sting on his neck, turning his head uncomfortably, fully exposing his slender, pale neck.

Such a delicate and fragile segment, easily strangled with one hand.

So clueless about nearly dying?

Xiao Nong narrowed his eyes, naturally withdrawing the sword, his tone even more casual, “What did you call me?”

Huh?

Zhong Yansheng struggled to keep up with Xiao Nong’s train of thought but still opened his mouth. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly remembered that this name belonged to the real young master. Saying it in front of the real young master seemed inappropriate.

Feeling guilty, Zhong Yansheng whispered softly, “...Tiaotiao.”

He had left the capital at seven and grown up in Gusu, picking up a bit of the soft, melodic accent of the region. His speech was always gentle, lacking any sharpness, sounding very obedient.

Xiao Nong wasn’t genuinely interested in Zhong Yansheng’s name. To him, someone intent on infiltrating the courtyard was no different from a dead man, and there was no need to know such details.

But having grown up in the Northern Desert, he had never heard such a soft and gentle tone before. Finding it intriguing, he hooked his finger, “Come closer.”

The gesture was casual, almost like beckoning a dog.

Zhong Yansheng felt this "brother" was strange, not quite the pitiful figure he had imagined.

But considering everything the other had been through, a wave of guilt washed over him, making him dare not think too much. He obediently moved closer, speaking hesitantly, his voice hoarse, “I’m sorry, I came late.”

He turned to glance at the flower bed he had messed up and stammered an apology, “I also crushed your flowers.”

As he drew closer, that scent grew more intense, swirling around him, soothing and comforting.

The intense, almost maddening heat in his head, which had been causing waves of pain, seemed less severe under the subtle comfort of this fragrance.

Xiao Nong's furrowed brows relaxed silently, and the gloom in his eyes dissipated slightly. Just as he was about to speak, Zhong Yansheng opened his mouth with a pleading look, “Brother, does it hurt a lot?”

A cold, murderous glint flashed across Xiao Nong's eyes.

No one dared to ask such a question in front of him, for it was like probing whether he was weak.

Xiao Nong was never weak. He had suffered from headaches for over a decade, and even when the pain was so severe that he wanted to roll on the ground and bang his head, he could maintain a calm expression.

He lightly said, “Oh,” his tone rising, “How did you know?”

“Your hair is wet.” Zhong Yansheng had been secretly observing Xiao Nong several times, noticing the damp ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. Concern naturally showed in his eyes, “Where are the physicians in the compound?”

Xiao Nong rarely found it hard to discern whether someone's concern was genuine or not.

After a moment of silence, he leaned back, appearing relaxed, and casually replied, “They ran away.”

Knowing that he would turn on anyone when his headache struck, they were scared off.

Zhong Yansheng, unaware of the situation, opened his eyes wide, a flame of anger rising in his heart.

How could there be such sycophants! Treating people so lightly based on their attitude toward the Marquis's household!

But ultimately, it was related to himself.

At eighteen, Zhong Yansheng felt for the first time that he was caught between two difficult positions, biting his lip to suppress his anger, “I'll go find a physician for you!”

Seeing him suddenly storm off, Xiao Nong was puzzled, “There’s no need.”

Zhong Yansheng's delicate brows knitted together, “Don’t worry, I’ll find a good physician. You’re in so much pain; we can’t delay any longer.”

For the first time, Xiao Nong found it amusing, his eyebrows arching higher as he repeated, “I said, there’s no need.”

The shadow guard, who had prepared the cleaning tools, silently retreated further into the shadows.

The master always meant what he said and hated repeating himself, especially when he smiled, which usually meant someone was about to suffer.

This time, would the pretty young man be cut?

Into how many pieces?

Not eighteen pieces, please, that would be too hard to clean up.

Seeing Xiao Nong contradict him twice, Zhong Yansheng stopped, secretly guessing his thoughts.

Does he dislike strangers? In the storybooks, the real young master didn’t have a good life with that peasant family, nearly being eaten during a famine, suffering much as a child.

Finally arriving in the Imperial City, in this unfamiliar place, where even his relatives treated him poorly, feeling panic and fear, disliking strangers was quite normal.

Zhong Yansheng felt guilty, his manner becoming cautious, “What should we do then? Where does it hurt, Brother? Can I help you?”

His voice was filled with sincere concern, and the way he called him "Brother" was pleasant, far better than the troublemaker at home.

Like a beautiful little bird that had flown in through the window, its chirping clear and melodious, its chatter not annoying, fluttering its wings, Xiao Nong found it interesting.

Resting his chin on the armrest, he propped his right hand up, pointing to his temple with his index finger.

Is it a headache?

Watching his gesture, Zhong Yansheng took a few more steps forward.

Only when he reached the wheelchair did Zhong Yansheng realize that the person in front of him had very long legs, broad shoulders, and a tall, slender build, capable of overshadowing him if he stood up. Even though he was looking up, the other's demeanor remained relaxed and composed, as if he were looking down at him.

Even through the thin veil, the intensity of his gaze was impossible to ignore.

The pressure was overwhelming.

In comparison, Zhong Yansheng standing before him seemed so frail, as if a slight breeze would knock him over.

Zhong Yansheng's breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat.

He had a keen animal-like intuition, skilled at distinguishing whether others' intentions were good or bad. So far, he hadn’t sensed anything positive from the person in front of him.

He was actually a bit afraid of this person.

But he mustered his courage and asked, “Brother, shall I massage your head?”

Lady Marquise often had headaches, and Zhong Yansheng had learned the technique from a doctor to massage her head.

Massage his head?

Killer intent surged in Xiao Nong's eyes beneath the veil, but he responded, “Mm.”

The shadow guards in the dark became alert, watching Zhong Yansheng's every move. Even a slight lift of his sleeve would result in his neck being snapped immediately.

Dare to touch the master's head?

This time, he should be cut, right?

Into how many pieces?

Not into pieces, please, that would be even harder to clean up...

Under the watchful eyes of the shadow guards, Zhong Yansheng circled behind Xiao Nong, cautiously extending his slender white fingers... diligently beginning to massage his head.

Xiao Nong: “...”

The shadow guard: “...”

Not expecting the little bird to actually make a move, after a moment of silence, Xiao Nong's shoulders slowly relaxed. His index finger rested on the armrest of the wheelchair, tapping lightly, signaling the tense shadow guard to step back.

The fingers that landed on his head applied just the right amount of pressure, neither too light nor too heavy. A faint fragrance enveloped him, making the surroundings feel very comfortable.

Xiao Nong closed his eyes, and for once, he felt a rare sense of peace.

Zhong Yansheng wanted to say a few words in defense of the Marquis' residence, but it seemed the real young master had no intention of discussing matters related to the Marquis' residence. Since the other party was already in a headache, mentioning those things would only be annoying.

He was already quite annoying as it was.

Zhong Yansheng swallowed his words and silently massaged for a while until his hands started to ache.

Noticing that he had stopped, Xiao Nong opened his eyes with displeasure: "Why did you stop?"

Zhong Yansheng rubbed his wrist pitifully: "... My hands are sore, I have no strength left."

"Useless."

How long has it been?

Afraid of angering him, Zhong Yansheng quickly softened his voice to soothe him: "Don't be angry, brother. Can I rest a bit and then continue massaging for you?"

In fact, after just a short while, the headache had slightly eased. It was purely because of the comfortable pressure from Zhong Yansheng's massage and the faint scent from his body that Xiao Nong didn't want him to stop. Seeing him so obedient and compliant, his mischievous nature surfaced, making him even more inclined to tease him.

At this moment, the sound of a yellow oriole chirped three times, a signal from the shadow guard indicating that news had arrived.

Xiao Nong reluctantly retracted his thoughts of toying with him, raised his left hand, and made a gesture.

Zhong Yansheng widened his eyes, looking at him innocently: "?"

Xiao Nong: "?"

Confirming that he didn't understand, Xiao Nong fell silent for a moment before speaking: "Step back."

Pausing, he added, thinking he might not understand: "Come back tomorrow to massage my head."

The shadow guard: "..."

Are we still killing or not?

Zhong Yansheng's eyes lit up slightly.

This meant he was allowed to come again? He thought he would be driven away.

He didn't expect the real young master, who seemed to have a bad temper, to actually be easy to get along with!

Relationships can't be built instantly; take it slow. This is already a good start.

Thinking this, Zhong Yansheng smiled with his eyes: "Then I'll come find you tomorrow, remember to open the door for me, brother."

But this courtyard was so large, and this place was clearly just one secluded corner. Where should he go to leave?

Zhong Yansheng looked back down the path in distress, and upon turning his head, he noticed a young man in black standing a few steps away, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. The man stood silently, as if he had always been there, expressionless. Seeing Zhong Yansheng turn around, he made a "please" gesture, as if offering to guide him.

So there were attendants in this courtyard.

Zhong Yansheng nodded at him friendly and followed, waving vigorously before leaving: "Goodbye, brother!"

As the little bird's figure disappeared behind the moon gate, Xiao Nong propped up a leg, picked up his sword again, and continued polishing it without raising his head. He asked, "Where did he come from?"

"Reporting to my lord," the shadow guard knelt on the ground, head bowed, hesitating, "Recently, many noble families in the Imperial City have been sending handsome young men here. This person came to the courtyard today with the carriage of the Anping Marquis' residence. We didn't expect him to be so bold as to climb over the wall..."

Hearing this, Xiao Nong understood.

Ever since he returned to the Imperial City, both large and small noble families had tried to send people into his inner chambers. Initially, they sent women, all of which failed, and then they suddenly realized and began sending men instead.

Someone must have spread a rumor that King Ding, at twenty-five, had an empty inner chamber because his preferences were different from the norm.

Or perhaps he had some hidden ailment.

Xiao Nong clicked his tongue, leaning back, visibly more relaxed: "Does this king look like someone who likes men? Ridiculous. Find the one who spread the rumor, and I will twist his neck into three pieces."

The shadow guard dared not respond: "Then, according to your wishes?"

Should we kill the one from earlier?

Xiao Nong didn't think much about it, tapping his fingers on the armrest: "Keep him."

It didn't matter. Even if the little bird was a disguised assassin or a sent concubine, he wasn't afraid of such things and didn't care who sent him.

"Yes." The shadow guard thought for a moment, then cautiously asked, "That young master called you 'brother,' and you responded. Is there any connection between you two? Should we investigate the Xiao family...?"

"No." Xiao Nong replied decisively, lazily adding, "Many people want to call this king 'brother.' Why shouldn't I respond if he calls me? Isn't it reasonable?"

The shadow guard: "..."

As long as you're happy.

Xiao Nong reflected: "Don't you think it sounds nice when that kid calls me 'brother'?"

The shadow guard: "......"

Not really.

Author's note:

You're not right.

But as long as you're happy.