Chapter 10: Chapter Ten What He Wants Is More Than Just This

Chapter Ten: He Wants More Than Just This

The Court Lady arrived punctually as always with her maids to attend to Wei Zheng's washing and dressing, but she found the bedchamber empty.

She stared at the clearly untouched bed, lost in thought for a moment. After a while, she led the maids to the side chamber, where, as expected, she found the Prince with his new male consort.

The first thing she saw upon entering was the scholar clutching his collar, huddled by the bedside, his neck covered in mottled marks, his face pale and on the verge of tears—like a delicate maiden violated by a brute.

And that brute was none other than her own refreshed and energetic Prince, who was idly twirling strands of the scholar's hair between his fingers.

The Court Lady couldn't bear to watch and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling nothing but pity for the scholar.

Naturally, she wouldn't dare criticize the Virtuous Prince over a mere scholar, and she quickly stamped out that flicker of sympathy.

With a radiant smile, she walked further into the room. "Your Highness, it's time to wash and dress."

Wei Zheng glanced lazily at her as if noticing her for the first time. "Can't you see I'm being intimate with my beauty? I'm not getting up."

As he spoke, he sat up and, ignoring the scholar's resistance, wrapped an arm around his slender waist, making it clear he intended to enact a scene of forcing himself upon the scholar in front of everyone.

"Y-Your Highness... please compose yourself."

The scholar trembled and shrank back, but with nowhere to escape, trapped as he was in the corner of the bed. Panicked, his long, fluttering lashes shook off the tears clinging to them.

Delicate and beautiful, he evoked both pity and a desire to utterly crush him.

How could the lust-addled Virtuous Prince resist such alluring beauty? He impatiently dismissed the Court Lady: "All of you, withdraw. Don't return without my orders."

The bed curtains were drawn shut, and before the scene was completely hidden, the maids caught a glimpse of their Prince pinning the pitiful scholar beneath him.

The scholar let out a startled cry, then fell silent.

A moment later, the crisp sound of fabric tearing was heard, followed by breathless, broken sobs and whimpers that made one's face flush and heart race.

The maids blushed deeply, but the Court Lady's face darkened like a pot stained with a decade's worth of soot.

Rubbing her temples in frustration, she waved the maids away, and the group filed out of the side chamber.

On the bed, Wei San pressed his hands against Wei Zheng's chest, listening carefully to the fading footsteps outside. In a breathy whisper, he murmured to Wei Zheng, "Master, they're gone."

So... shouldn't he be allowed to get up now? The sleeve of his underrobe was torn—he needed to change.

Wei Zheng acknowledged but didn't move, instead rolling over and pulling Wei San into an embrace, shifting from a dominant position to one of lying embraced together.

He yawned lazily. "I didn't sleep well last night. Since we can't leave for a while, stay and nap with me a bit longer."

Again... sleep?

Wei San checked the time—it was almost the end of the Yin hour (before dawn). Normally, he'd be training at the drill ground by now, but...

His eyes flickered toward Wei Zheng, who was feigning sleep, and he silently swallowed his desire to get up and practice.

It wasn't until the sun was high overhead that Wei Zheng finally released him, and the master and servant leisurely rose.

Wei San naturally took on the task of dressing his master, carefully helping him into each layer and fastening his robes. As he tied Wei Zheng's hair, he heard his master ask casually, "Wei San, what was your original name?"

Wei San paused. His original name? He couldn't quite remember.

Most of his childhood memories had faded, but the clearest was that his former home was a dilapidated hut with bare walls. His nominal father was a compulsive gambler who lost both him and his mother in bets.

He ended up in the hands of human traffickers, and Commander Duan, passing by, bought him. He had no idea what became of his mother.

He entered the assassin training camp before he was seven, the youngest there at the time.

Children who entered the assassin camp weren't allowed to keep their names. Back then, he was given the code name Seventy-One, and that became his identity.

Later, he clawed his way out of the assassin camp over the bodies of over a hundred children, becoming the third strongest among the fifteen surviving assassins.

The surviving assassins were all given their master's surname, and so he became Wei San.

After a brief moment of reflection, he answered firmly, "Master, Wei San is my name."

As he spoke, he finished tying Wei Zheng's hair, securing it with a white jade crown, then stepped back.

Wei Zheng looked at the assassin with downcast eyes and an obedient demeanor in the bronze mirror and felt a sudden urge to pull him into an embrace.

Rubbing his fingers together thoughtfully, he chuckled softly. "As my male consort, you can't keep using the name Wei San. If others hear it, how should I address you?"

"Since you have no name, then in front of others, you shall be called Sui Yun."

The name Sui Yun held no special meaning. When the thought of naming Wei San crossed his mind, Wei Zheng recalled his mother's childhood habit of calling him by the nickname A-Yun, and the words slipped out almost unconsciously.

Wei San never expected his master to bestow a name upon him. His nose tingled with emotion, and he couldn't suppress the surge of joy and gratitude. With this name, he felt he was no longer a nameless, rootless wanderer without a past or future.

"Thank you, Master, for granting me a name. I swear on my life, I will never betray your trust!" He performed a deep bow of respect to Wei Zheng, his voice choked with emotion.

Wei Zheng looked at the nearly tearful assassin and felt somewhat troubled.

It seemed he had accidentally made the little assassin even more loyal. But he wanted more than just this—he wanted the little assassin's heart.

After that day, everyone in the Virtuous Prince's residence knew that Young Master Sui Yun in the side chamber was deeply favored. Though he held no official title, everyone understood clearly that aside from the Prince, Young Master Sui Yun was the second master.

But the seemingly favored Young Master Sui Yun wasn't happy. He had been confined to the residence for several days, and Wei San, who had never been idle for more than a day, felt his bones were going rusty.

After just a few days trapped inside, Wei San grew even more impressed with his master.

The residence was filled with spies, every move watched closely, making it impossible to act freely.

If it was difficult for him, it must have been even harder for his master, who had to feign madness and folly. And his master had endured this life for nearly ten years.

If it were him, he would have gone stir-crazy long ago.

"Third Brother, the food here is amazing!"

Wei Jiu crouched behind a bookshelf, nibbling noisily on a plate of snowflake crackers like a little mouse stealing treats.

Wei San, who had been distractedly polishing the hidden sleeve blade in his sleeve, snapped back to attention. He slowly set down the silk cloth. "If you like it, you can come here every day."

"Really?"

Wei Jiu's eyes lit up instantly. Wei San nodded, and he immediately said with sycophantic enthusiasm, "Third Brother, you're the best."

He gulped down the last cracker hastily, peered cautiously around the bookshelf to confirm no one was outside, then boldly walked over to Wei San and plopped down beside him.

He sat improperly with his legs crossed arrogantly, but when Wei San glanced at them, he immediately sat up straight properly.

"Has anything happened lately?"

Wei San put away the sleeve-dagger. These days, confined to the side chamber playing the role of the male favorite, he had been completely disconnected from the outside world. Not only was he unaware of what was happening at the camp, but he also had no knowledge of recent events in the capital.

This left him really uneasy, feeling as though he had fallen down on his job as an assassin.

That Wei Jiu could visit today was only because the Virtuous Prince had left the estate, taking his ladies-in-waiting and maids with him.

Wei Jiu couldn't sit still to save his life; he would rather be in shackles than sit properly for long.

Slouching like he had no bones, he poured himself a cup of tea, then stretched his legs out, propping them on the chair, and began mulling over recent events one by one.

There were only two major incidents in the capital lately. Apart from the scandal of the Virtuous Prince setting his sights on a scholar and forcing him to become a male favorite, there had been a breakthrough in the case of the high-ranking official murdered some time ago.

The Dali Temple, having gathered clues from somewhere, obtained a search warrant and led soldiers to the home of Imperial Censor-in-Chief Yan Zheng, where they discovered a skull, reduced to bare bone, in his doghouse.

The Imperial Censor-in-Chief had no time to even cry innocence before he was arrested on the spot and taken to prison.

The skull was brought back to the Dali Temple, where the coroner compared it to Zhang Xing's remains and confirmed it was indeed his head.

Subsequently, evidence of hiring assassins to kill Zhang Xing was uncovered one after another in Yan Zheng's study. The black-and-white records of financial transactions thoroughly sealed his guilt for good.

The case concluded in just three days. Yan Zheng was stripped of his official position, sentenced to execution come autumn, and all his family members were exiled.

"Speaking of which, both incidents are related to you, Third Brother," Wei Jiu remarked playfully after finishing his cold tea in one gulp.

Wei San ignored his jest and pondered thoughtfully, "The Imperial Censor-in-Chief and Zhang Xing have always been at odds, and he is also one of the Fifth Prince's men. It’s no surprise the Crown Prince targeted him."

Unaware of Wei Zheng’s secret decisions, Wei San was no fool; with a little thought, he deduced the key points.

Zhang Xing’s death was a settled matter, and the mastermind behind it was too well-hidden to be uncovered quickly. It was no surprise that the Crown Prince would use Zhang Xing’s death to drag the Fifth Prince down.

Having lost one of his right-hand men, why not maximize the benefits and also remove one of the Fifth Prince’s key supporters?

Thus, the Crown Prince and the Fifth Prince each lost a formidable general, while Wei Zheng, lurking in the shadows, came out ahead.

The Fifth Prince was the unluckiest of all—not only failing to profit from the chaos but also stumbling badly. Aside from throwing a fit, he could mount no effective counterattack.

After all, the token of the Fifth Prince’s secret guard, found under the bed, was still in the Crown Prince’s hands. To break openly with the Crown Prince at this point would surely do him no good.

Wei Jiu did not stay long before leaving, and the side chamber was once again left to Wei San alone.

With no opportunity to practice martial arts or spar, he could only take out his poison needles and repeatedly dip the tips in poison.

After some time, he heard footsteps outside the room. His heart leapt with joy, thinking his master had returned. But after listening more carefully, he immediately wiped the smile from his face, his expression turning grave as he put away the poison needles.