Chapter 96 Ankle

Chapter 96: The Hidden Truth

The study buzzed with commotion. Xie Guanghong stood at the forefront, surrounded by a circle of noble youths who followed his lead, while Qi Yan stood alone in the center, his face dark and forbidding.

Xiao Shao pushed past Xie Guanghong and stepped into the circle. "What's going on here?"

Xie Guanghong bowed slightly. "Your Highness, two days ago you chose a servant—normally a joyous occasion, but it appears he’s been caught stealing."

"What do you mean?" Xiao Shao asked.

"Look at that box beside him," Xie Guanghong replied.

Xiao Shao glanced over and saw a narrow black sandalwood box containing an unblemished jade hairpin, its surface smooth and lustrous, clearly of great value.

"The Qi family was raided," Xie Guanghong continued. "How could he possess such an expensive piece of jade? If he didn’t steal it from your estate, where else could it have come from?"

Xiao Shao frowned. "Qi Yan?"

Qi Yan looked up briefly at Xie Guanghong, then knelt stiffly without a word, offering no explanation.

Colluding with court officials was a grave crime. With the Qi family already under scrutiny, he neither could nor would implicate Senior Tutor Song.

Unable to speak the truth, he had no choice but to accept all accusations.

Xiao Shao’s brow twitched.

During his recent illness, Qi Yan had been feverish and delirious, sluggish in movement, weak as water. Around Xiao Shao, he seemed to deliberately play weak, so much so that Xiao Shao had nearly forgotten Qi Yan had once held such a high position, wielding immense power.

And that glance he had just given Xie Guanghong reminded Xiao Shao of a decaying skull in the wild for some reason.

Xiao Shao studied Qi Yan with interest, pondering whether that look had been an illusion or if the man was merely pretending to be docile. Then, suddenly, his vision blurred as a glowing blue screen materialized before him: "Critical plot point. Host, take note."

Xiao Shao raised an eyebrow.

Living a second life, he had grown so comfortable that he had nearly forgotten about the system. "Was this in your plotline?"

Though he had memories of his past life, cutting off the Crown Prince rendered those memories unreliable. When Qi Yan had followed the Crown Prince, this particular incident hadn’t occurred.

66 hovered around him. "It was."

66 liked Xiao Shao very much—he was, without a doubt, the easiest host it had ever guided.

Xiao Shao truly loathed Qi Yan. Taking him back to the estate and forcing him to attend lessons sick were all within the bounds of the plot. Even without prompting, Xiao Shao had torn up Qi Yan’s letter—though he had inexplicably rewritten it later. Still, such minor deviations were negligible. After dealing with three previous hosts of varying eccentricities, Xiao Shao’s compliance was almost unsettlingly perfect.

66 was relieved.

With no errors to correct in the early stages, 66 had remained silent.

Xiao Shao 'hmph'-ed, intrigued. "So, what should I do?"

66: "Confirm that the hairpin did come from your estate, proving his theft, and then—hey, Host, wait! I haven’t finished!"

Before it could finish, Xiao Shao had already stepped past it and walked toward the center of the commotion.

66 froze in alarm.

Under 66’s nervous gaze, Xiao Shao picked up the hairpin, studied it, and smiled. "Indeed, this is from my estate."

Qi Yan closed his eyes briefly, his lashes dark as crow’s wings, masking all emotion beneath a mask of calm. In the end, there was only the silent acceptance of fate.

The system let out a long sigh of relief.

Before the system could fully relax, Xie Guanghong said, "In that case, the matter is settled beyond doubt. To commit open theft in a prince’s residence—"

Without warning, Xiao Shao laughed, "Wait, how is this 'open theft'?"

He suddenly reached out, pulled out Qi Yan's wooden hairpin, loosened his bun, then gathered his hair with his hand and slowly inserted the jade hairpin in its place.

Amid the onlookers’ stunned silence, he nudged Qi Yan's knee with his foot. "Why aren’t you wearing the hairpin I gave you? Hiding it in your sleeve—do you think keeping it hidden will make it bloom?"

The instant Xiao Shao moved, Qi Yan froze in place. Only when his hair was loosened, then gathered again by Xiao Shao, and the jade hairpin firmly secured did he realize Xiao Shao was offering him a way out.

He averted his gaze and replied, "The hairpin is valuable. I feared damaging it."

"Just wear it. If it breaks, I’ll get you another," Xiao Shao said casually. He gave Qi Yan a disdainful glance. "Following me around dressed like a beggar—what kind of impression does that give? Since when can my personal attendant not even wear a jade hairpin?"

"..."

Though his words were harsh, he meant to shield him.

Qi Yan silently released the grip on his sleeve, his kneeling posture relaxing slightly. "You are right to reprimand me."

The system stammered: "..."

It frantically cut in, "No, host, listen to me—the second half wasn’t supposed to go like this! We—"

But Xiao Shao had already shut it down. He glanced idly at Xie Guanghong, crossed his arms, and declared, "The misunderstanding is cleared up. Why are you all still gathered here? Scram."

The system panicked, sweating bullets (figuratively). "Wait, host, we—"

Xiao Shao then lifted his gaze and swept it over the system indifferently.

The system: "!"

The look was deceptively calm, heavy with unspoken command. The system quaked, a phantom chill creeping down its spine.

Xiao Shao had been emperor for over a decade, holding the power of life and death over the realm. What he chose to do had never been dictated by some unknown creature.

The system: "..."

(QAQ) (The system whimpered internally: QAQ)

It took back its earlier words! This guy’s the worst!

At least Xie, Lin, and Bai didn’t terrify me!

It missed its previous three hosts!

With the matter resolved, the crowd scattered like spooked livestock. Xie Guanghong bit back his protests, not daring to argue further in Xiao Shao’s presence, and left with Yuan Yu.

Xiao Shao, meanwhile, picked up the book and found the letter beneath it, its ink now dry. After reading it from start to finish, he felt a flicker of admiration for the talent behind it.

The polished proposal was razor-sharp in its logic, laying out every obstacle and dilemma of reform with meticulous consideration. Even having witnessed his elder brother’s reforms firsthand, Xiao Shao couldn’t help but be impressed.

While he skimmed the letter, Qi Yan stayed rigidly kneeling, enduring Xiao Shao’s scrutinizing gaze—a gaze so piercing it felt like an X-ray.

Xiao Shao was deep in thought.

Looking at Qi Yan, he mused that Old Tutor Song had pegged him right. This student truly possessed the talent to aid the world and uphold the state. If Xiao Shao were to ascend the throne in the future with such an advisor at his side, he’d get twice the payoff for half the effort.

Locking Qi Yan in the back room was like caging a flying bird—such a waste.

Xiao Shao’s hatred for the Lord of Nine Thousand Years in his past life was genuine. Back then, their factions were opposed, and Qi Yan’s cutthroat tactics naturally made him feared. Moreover, he was inextricably linked to Xie Guanghong’s death. Xiao Shao and Xie Guanghong had grown up together, and though his grief over Xie Guanghong’s death might not have run deep, it still left a bad taste. But now...

Xiao Shao thought to himself, *If I were Qi Yan, I’d want Xie Guanghong dead too.*

To be kicked while down, falsely accused of theft, and to have the teacher he revered most slandered—wouldn’t that be worth killing over?

In his past life, Xiao Shao had been happy playing the idle prince. With no intention of seizing the throne, he paid little attention to the capital’s intrigues. But given Xie Guanghong’s straightforward, eye-for-an-eye attitude, Qi Yan must have suffered greatly under his hands.

Xiao Shao rested his chin on his hand, musing, *The older Qi Yan was certainly detestable, but this younger version doesn’t seem so bad. If I keep him as a pet, then exploit him later to process my paperwork, wouldn’t that be ideal?*

In his past life, Xiao Shao had died from overwork, crushed beneath the weight of the empire’s affairs—from Tatar raids on the borders to floods in the south. He had been busier than a rooster at dawn and slept later than a dog at night, all without a single trustworthy minister to share the burden.

...What if he made Qi Yan handle them? It seemed feasible.

Eunuchs had no maternal family, so they’re bound to the throne by nature. And given Qi Yan’s clean-cut, by-the-book demeanor, he wouldn’t engage in corruption or harm the people.

As long as Xiao Shao raised him well.

Convinced of the plan’s merit, Xiao Shao eased up on Qi Yan, who had grown increasingly tense. He brushed off his robes and said, “Get up. Everyone’s gone—why are you still kneeling? Come home with me.”

He sauntered off, but when he turned around after some distance, Qi Yan wasn’t following.

Xiao Shao raised a brow, wondering if Qi Yan, getting bold after a little kindness, was now defying him. He turned back and found Qi Yan just outside the study.

For some reason, Qi Yan’s face was even paler than before. He bit his lower lip hard, sinking teeth into the soft skin until it split, leaving behind a bloody mess.

Xiao Shao felt a twinge of irritation.

He had just decided to raise him properly, and already there was trouble.

With a click of his tongue, he stepped forward, ready to scold—but his gaze caught on Qi Yan’s knees.

The azure fabric of his trousers was drenched, with red bleeding through, staining an area the size of a bowl.

Earlier, when Qi Yan had dropped to his knees, he had landed squarely on a rock. The sharp edges had gouged into his skin, embedding in his kneecaps. The blood from the wounds had saturated his pants, but with Xiao Shao and Xie Guanghong present, he hadn’t dared to move.

Already everyone’s punching bag, if he were to show further impropriety before a prince, twenty lashes would’ve been the mildest outcome.

With injured legs, he couldn’t walk quickly. Even holding his breath, he lagged far behind Xiao Shao. Seeing Xiao Shao return, he gritted his teeth and dragged his injured leg, trying to step over the threshold.

Xiao Shao frowned. “Stay still.”

Winter trousers were double-layered, lined with undergarments. If the outer layer was this bloodied, the inside must be a mess.

He stepped closer, pushed Qi Yan down to sit on the threshold, then gripped his ankle to roll up the pant leg.

Qi Yan froze—but the moment Xiao Shao touched his ankle, he began flailing like a netted fish, trembling as if Xiao Shao’s fingers were white-hot brands scorching him.

Xiao Shao said, “Be still. I’m checking your injury.”

Since bringing Qi Yan back, he had never once resisted like this. Now, he thrashed wildly, impossible to pin down.

“N-no...” Qi Yan shuddered, lips pale, the wound on his lower lip bitten deeper. One hand pressed weakly against Xiao Shao’s shoulder, too mindful of their difference in status to push with any real force—a half-hearted, pitiful push.

Xiao Shao easily subdued him, intrigued. “You’re afraid of this?”

When he had first taken Qi Yan in, the boy had been silent and indifferent, his heart like dead ashes. No matter what Xiao Shao did, he had responded with dull compliance—utterly boring to tease.

Xiao Shao had trained horses and trained falcons—he preferred pets that put up a fierce resistance. At the very least, they should be like teasing a cat, whether baring claws or tugging at hair, they had to give him some reaction. But Qi Yan was like a stiff puppet, beautiful yet lifeless, lacking vitality.

Now, with his struggles, he finally seemed alive.

Shoved hard by Qi Yan, Xiao Shao wasn’t the least bit angry. Instead, he smiled and said, "Afraid of my touch? I just want to examine your injury. What are you so wary of?"

Yet Qi Yan gripped his trouser cuff, trembling as he covered his ankles.

His ankles were slender, never seeing sunlight, pale as white jade, the lines where they disappeared into his shoes and socks smooth and elegant—perfect to seize and play with.

Xiao Shao’s gaze swept past the offering table inscribed with "Teacher of Ten Thousand Generations" above the doorway, then landed on a pair of couplets hanging at the head of the room. The first line read, "Mastery comes through diligence," while the second declared, "Revere heaven, earth, and the written word." Xiao Shao paused, hit by a ridiculous idea: "Do you think this is a place for studying, so exposing your body is improper?"

He knew scholars had their odd proprieties—burning incense and bathing before reading sacred texts, never exposing skin in a study. But with injuries this severe, why cling to such taboos?

Xiao Shao said, "This is my family’s study. I roasted ducks from the imperial gardens here as a child and plucked their feathers. If you look now, you might still find duck feathers under the bookshelves. What’s there to be wary of?"

As he spoke, he reached for Qi Yan’s ankle again.

The moment his fingers made contact, Qi Yan flinched violently before suddenly going limp, sitting motionless on the ground like a corpse, his eyes tightly shut.

Xiao Shao found it even stranger. When he had touched Qi Yan earlier, the reaction hadn’t been like this.

But then, he noticed something unusual beneath his fingertips.

The skin around the ankle was uneven, marked by odd, raised ridges—lines that twisted and connected, following some deliberate design.

Xiao Shao paused, tracing it lightly.

It was a character: "lowly".

A character burned into flesh with a branding iron.

"..."

Xiao Shao released his grip.

He recognized this.

It was the Eastern Depot’s signature. Those who entered its dungeons for interrogation would be branded like this—specifically targeting officials or scholars with reputations to ruin, branding their disgrace into their skin. Qi Yan had been spared the face due to an imperial pardon, so the mark had been burned onto his ankle instead.

No wonder Qi Yan refused to let him touch it.

No wonder, in their past life, when Qi Yan rose to power as the Eastern Depot’s overseer, he had always worn boots that covered his ankles completely. Who could have guessed such a hidden scar existed?

Xiao Shao unconsciously rubbed his fingers together.

No wonder Qi Yan had purged the Eastern Depot once he took control. If Xiao Shao were in his place, he would have been even more ruthless.

From the moment Xiao Shao discovered the brand, Qi Yan had gone utterly still, yielding to his hands as if resigned to whatever came next.

Then, he was lifted into someone’s arms.

Xiao Shao wrapped him in a fur-lined cloak, ensuring even his ankles were fully covered, then hefted him and carried him out the door.

He patted the bundle in his arms soothingly, softening his voice. "Stop struggling. The palace is full of watchful eyes. I’ll call the imperial physician for you once we’re home."