Chapter 6: The So-called Confession

Chapter 6: The So-called Confession

Hearing this, the entire room was momentarily stunned. Emperor Qing, in good spirits, smiled and waved at Xian Fu, who quickly set up the table, chairs, tea, and snacks.

But the young head eunuch felt something wasn’t right. Weren’t they here to visit Vice Minister Zhuo’s illness? Why did it seem more like they were at a theater watching a play...

Eyes downcast, Xian Fu stood obediently behind Emperor Qing, knowing it wasn’t his place to intervene.

Emperor Qing clapped twice, and the guards at the door promptly entered with two boxes. One contained a century-old ginseng king wrapped in red silk, while the other was filled with various snacks that Zhuo Fan loved.

"This ginseng king was a tribute from the Kingdom of Goguryeo, and there are only two in total. And these are all your favorites. I specially ordered the imperial kitchen to prepare them this morning. Seeing you so thin breaks my heart. Come, try them and see if they suit your taste."

Zhuo Fan stiffly turned his face away: "Your servant is overwhelmed and unworthy of Your Majesty’s generous affection..."

Xiao Han knew Zhuo Fan wouldn’t accept them. Before the latter could finish speaking, he cheerfully said to Xian Fu, "Take the ginseng back, but leave the snacks for him."

Zhuo Fan: "..."

Xian Fu nodded in admiration. What a thrifty emperor! If it were any other ruler, they would rather throw it on the ground than take it back.

Zhuo Fan, his knees aching, suddenly lost his balance and fell. Xiao Han, who had been prepared, rushed forward in a flash and caught him. Holding Zhuo Fan’s thin shoulders, he looked at him with concern: "The floor is cold, and it’s freezing outside. You're still sick, how can you not take care of yourself?"

Without waiting for a response, Xiao Han frowned and muttered, "Look, your room doesn’t even have a door!"

The Vice Minister of Rites, struggling in Emperor Qing’s arms, suddenly felt off: "...Wasn’t that door removed by Your Majesty’s order?"

Xiao Han ignored this and continued affectionately: "Last night was my fault for ignoring you. Come back to the palace with me, and I will make it up to you."

Recalling those unbearable words, Zhuo Fan pushed him away weakly, "Your Majesty, forgive my rudeness, but even your pets have tempers! Besides, I, Zhuo Fan, am a dignified man. I have thoroughly understood and seen through what you said yesterday, and I will never be as foolishly infatuated as before! It's freezing, and my humble abode is simple. Your Majesty should return early, lest the Empress scolds me for seducing you and ruining the country. I cannot bear such accusations!"

The north wind howled, tangling Zhuo Fan’s hair. His pale face flushed slightly due to the surge of emotions.

He struggled to speak, emotions high, chest heaving, and eyes red. He stubbornly glared at Emperor Qing, appearing both fragile and strong, truly a sight that would move anyone to tears and break their heart.

The usually stern Emperor Qing, hearing Zhuo Fan’s scolding, showed deep remorse.

Xiao Han’s remorse was genuine, so he said sincerely, "My palace has doors."

"..."

The room’s melancholy turned to eerie silence.

Zhuo Fan made a strange sound, perhaps choking on his saliva.

Meanwhile, King Wen, who was sitting and drinking tea, accidentally sprayed the tea he had just sipped back into the cup. Fortunately, he controlled the movement, and Emperor Qing didn’t notice. Only the quick-witted Xian Fu immediately replaced his cup.

"Ahem, what I mean is," Xiao Han took a moment to gather his emotions before slowly saying, "I am well aware of the things the Empress has been doing behind the scenes. Rest assured, I will deal with those who slander you and make it up to you. As long as you are willing to return to the palace with me, I promise to favor you alone. How could any other ordinary person compare to you?"

The conversation finally returned to the right track. Zhuo Fan sighed and said faintly, "Your Majesty, I find it hard to believe your words. Please return."

"Oh, alright then," Xiao Han shrugged, letting go without any hesitation and casually standing up to return to his chair.

"..."

Zhuo Fan was still stunned, but fortunately, King Wen naturally intervened at the right moment: "Minister Zhuo, you are still recovering from your cold and should rest well. Since you are unwilling to enter the palace, it's the same to recuperate at home. Your Majesty has already visited, so it's better to return to the palace early. Your Majesty has many state affairs to attend to."

Although Xiao Han had already started to miss the warm stove and fluffy fur blankets in the Changqing Palace, he still had to finish his lines. Fortunately, he only had one sentence left, followed by some fleeting thoughts like "feeling jealous upon seeing King Wen and Zhuo Fan getting close," "secretly resenting," and "considering forcibly bringing him into the palace."

Thus, thinking that leaving early was still leaving, Xiao Han directly strode out of the room, saying indifferently as he walked, "King Wen, Zhuo Fan is mine. It would be wise for you to stay away. Zhuo Fan, I said I would make it up to you, and I will."

By the time he finished speaking, he was already far away, so it was doubtful if the two could even hear him. It was like he was talking to thin air.

He walked along the corridor to the corner, where a paper window was on the wall. Xiao Han sighed to himself. Yesterday, the script had Zhuo Fan eavesdropping for hours, and today it was his turn.

Was a live-action BL drama about to unfold?

A heartbroken and emotionally vulnerable bottom, half-heartedly protesting "no, you can't," would be "reluctantly" led to bed by a devoted and persistent cannon fodder top under the guise of deep affection and forceful advances?

Afterward, there would be self-destructive behavior, even suicidal thoughts, with a heart turned to ash and an empty stare to gain pity. Then the cannon fodder top would feel guilty but not regretful for his actions and would vow to cherish the bottom even more, determined to take him from the main lead.

Then the bottom would wrestle with thoughts of the main lead, but his body would "yield" to the cannon fodder top's advances, and he would rationalize that "this person is just infatuated and pitiful, and though I don't love him, I can't blame him."

Xiao Han couldn't help but cynically speculate, as the script always followed this pattern.

Damn it, if I sleep with you once, it's seen as manipulation, and you deny everything afterward. But if the cannon fodder top does it, it's excusable and pitiful?

Being a scumbag top is no walk in the park!

Xiao Han sent his attendants away and, with a scowl, poked a hole in the paper window. After all, it was a free BL drama, and it would be a shame to miss it.

Of course, the two inside the room had no idea about Emperor Qing's voyeurism. At that moment, Zhuo Fan sat on the bed, his back to Emperor Qing and his head bowed. King Wen stood by the bed, speaking softly with words of comfort: "I shouldn't disturb your rest, but seeing you so heartbroken and in pain, I truly cannot rest easy."

"Your concern is overwhelming, and I am deeply honored. I wonder what I have done to deserve such care from Your Highness?" Zhuo Fan looked up, noticing King Wen's distant expression, and asked with concern, "Your Highness, what's wrong?"

"Ah, I... I was just recalling the first time we met."

Zhuo Fan was startled: "Wasn't it during the morning court?"

King Wen shook his head and sighed deeply, his tone somber: "Ah, it seems you have indeed forgotten. It's alright, I will keep it in my heart."

Seeing Zhuo Fan's confusion, Wen Muyan paused for a long time, hesitating before finally speaking in a tone filled with reminiscence: "I am not actually my father's only son. There was once a younger half-brother, neither the eldest nor the heir, but his mother was the daughter of a high-ranking official. My mother, though the queen, came from a family that had fallen into decline, and her influence was far weaker than that of my stepmother. Thus, the two of them saw me as a thorn in their side, plotting in secret to kill me so that my younger brother could inherit the title of King Wen."

"I remember the year my father was sent on a mission beyond the frontier, and my mother accompanied him. I, however, was left in the palace due to illness and could not travel. My stepmother and her son took advantage of this to plot against me. Fortunately, the guards my mother left behind risked their lives to protect me, allowing me to escape. It was raining heavily outside, and I was severely injured. I fled for three days and nights, exhausted and desperate, until I stumbled into a dilapidated temple, starving and thirsty, with nowhere to turn. And in that temple, there happened to be someone taking shelter from the rain..."

"Ah! So that person was—" At this point, Zhuo Fan finally remembered that years ago, he had indeed saved a dying young man in a dilapidated temple. However, the man was covered in blood, his face obscured by mud and wet hair, making it impossible to recognize him. He never expected that person to be the elegant King Wen standing before him.

Wen Muyan smiled and nodded, continuing: "Just when I thought my life was about to end, you gave me the water and food you had, and even found a doctor to treat my wounds. If not for you, I would have died before my loyal guards could reach me. You saved my life, and from that day on, I have always kept you in my heart."

"All these years, I have been searching for you, but to no avail. Until that day in the court when I saw you, do you know how overjoyed I was?"

As he spoke, King Wen gently caressed Zhuo Fan's cheek, his voice filled with emotion: "You appeared in my most helpless, desperate, and painful moment, giving me the will to survive and hope. At that moment, I realized that I had..."

Here, Wen Muyan suddenly paused, as if a tape had jammed. His face turned slightly pale, and he pressed his hand to his chest before continuing: "...had fallen deeply in love with you."

Zhuo Fan stared wide-eyed, his face red, unsure of what to say.

Outside the window, Xiao Han, who was eavesdropping, twitched his mouth and sneered inwardly. A bit of food and water given casually made you remember him? Why don't you think about those guards who died for you?

He couldn't stand the overly sentimental and clichéd tone any longer, feeling goosebumps all over. He deeply regretted eating too many pastries earlier, as they were now churning in his stomach.

Meanwhile, Wen Muyan continued his heartfelt confession: "I thought I was destined to pass you by in this life, forever regretful. Who could have expected that heaven would bring us together again? This time, I will not let you disappear from my life..."

Perhaps it was Xiao Han's imagination, but Wen Muyan's face seemed to grow even paler, his expression stiff.

"...Without you, my life would be so dark and dull. Even if the entire world were laid before me, it could not compare to you..."

"To your every smile..."

"Every smile..."

Wen Muyan seemed to find it increasingly difficult to speak, and as he continued, he began to vomit...

To vomit...

Vomit...

...

"Your Highness, what's wrong?!" Zhuo Fan was startled, looking at the Prince of Wen who had just been pouring out his heart with fear, as he suddenly started foaming at the mouth, nearly scaring him witless.

Xiao Han outside the room was also shocked, wondering if this guy had been so disgusted that he threw up?

Then, seeing Wen Muyan quickly recover, he swiftly rinsed his mouth with tea, wiped his face, and tidied himself up before giving Zhuo Fan an awkward smile: "Sorry, I must have eaten something bad, just a bit queasy. I got used to it after a few throws."

"Oh, it's good that Your Highness is fine." Zhuo Fan relaxed, but his expression turned mournful and mocking again as he lowered his eyes and said softly, "... It’s not that I don’t know your feelings, but my heart is already dead with sorrow, and I truly lack the strength to think about these heartbreaking and disappointing things..."

From Xiao Han's perspective, he could only see Wen Muyan's front. He swore he wasn't seeing things; he clearly saw this guy roll his eyes where Zhuo Fan couldn't see!

But his words grew even gentler: "If you can't bear to think about it, then don't. Rest assured, this Prince will never betray you like that person did."

As he spoke, Wen Muyan's face twisted as he reached out to stroke Zhuo Fan's black hair. Zhuo Fan flinched, trying to pull away, but Wen Muyan firmly held his shoulders, leaning in as if to kiss him.

"Your Highness, no! Y-Your Highness, please let me go—mm... don't..."

Though he struggled verbally, Zhuo Fan's pushing hands were like embroidery, easily suppressed by Wen Muyan. The mighty Qing Emperor, crouching by the window, one eye pressed to the hole, watched with great interest, not forgetting to mock internally: Wen Muyan, who usually had such little strength, was now acting like a bicep monster? Little Zhuo, who could normally exhaust Wen Muyan with his weight alone, was now all limp and weak—what was going on?

In no time, Zhuo Fan's clothes were torn open by the Prince of Wen, and he was left lying on the bed, breathless and filled with resentment.