Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty-Eight How Long Do You Plan to Keep Pretending?

Chapter 28: How Long Do You Plan to Keep Pretending?

After the assassination of Zhang Xing, the Old Emperor made no overt moves against the Fifth Prince, but his attitude remained distinctly cold. He even excused the Fifth Prince from daily greetings, leading to widespread whispers that the prince had fallen out of imperial favor.

Upon receiving news of the drought in Quanzhou, the Fifth Prince, eager to regain the Old Emperor's approval, saw a golden opportunity. Confident in his ability to resolve the crisis, he meticulously prepared his arguments, hoping to secure this rare chance. However, before he could even volunteer, the majority of court officials recommended Wei Zheng, who had just recovered from a mental illness and had never participated in court affairs.

Wei Heng was immediately incensed. How could Wei Zheng, a fool, compete with him for such an honor? Even if Wei Zheng had recently recovered, he had learned nothing of substance in the past decade—he might not even recognize more than a few characters. How could he suddenly become capable overnight and understand how to handle such matters?

"Father, Seventh Brother has never independently handled any government affairs. How can someone so inexperienced be entrusted with disaster relief, a matter of such gravity? This is treating the lives of the people as a joke!"

Wei Heng held nothing back, practically accusing the recommending officials of disregarding human lives.

Though his words were harsh, they contained an undeniable truth. The Virtuous Prince had been involved in court affairs for too short a time—barely eleven or twelve days—and had yet to demonstrate any particular aptitude. Disaster relief was a critical matter involving tens of thousands of lives, and by all accounts, it should not be entrusted to the Virtuous Prince.

The Old Emperor pondered for a moment before responding indifferently, "Then, do you have a suitable candidate?"

The Fifth Prince bowed respectfully. "Your son wishes to share Your Majesty's burdens."

The court officials exchanged glances, surprised that anyone would eagerly seek such a difficult task. Their gazes toward the Fifth Prince shifted, tinged with skepticism.

The Old Emperor weighed the options between him and Wei Zheng for a long moment before asking Wei Zheng, "Do you have any objections?"

What objections could Wei Zheng possibly have? This was precisely the outcome he desired, though he couldn't show it openly. He bowed with feigned regret. "Fifth Brother is right. Your son lacks the ability to shoulder the heavy responsibility of disaster relief and fears disappointing Your Majesty's expectations."

This clearly signaled his unwillingness to accept the position of Disaster Relief Commissioner.

The Old Emperor then turned to the Crown Prince. "And what about the Crown Prince?"

The Crown Prince, whose meticulously planned schemes had been disrupted by Wei Heng, nearly ground his teeth in frustration. But upon reflection, even if he couldn't ensnare Wei Zheng, getting rid of this fool wouldn't be a loss. He lowered his eyes and replied meekly, "As Your Majesty wills."

The Old Emperor looked at his three sons, each with their own hidden agendas, his clouded eyes seeing through their every pretense. He sighed wearily and waved his hand. "The matter of the Quanzhou drought shall be fully entrusted to the Fifth Prince."

With that, he stood up, ignoring the Fifth Prince and the officials offering their thanks. He hunched over, coughing softly, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Zhao Fu, ever perceptive, signaled the end of the court session and quickly stepped forward to support the Old Emperor as he left the Golden Hall.

The disaster relief matter was thus settled. The court officials dispersed, and the Fifth Prince swaggered toward Wei Zheng. Before he could even adopt a mocking stance, Wei Zheng had already swept past him without a glance, striding out of the Golden Hall.

Infuriated by Wei Zheng's dismissive attitude, the Fifth Prince could only curse under his breath, unwilling to raise his voice and compromise royal dignity.

The Crown Prince watched coldly, silently cursing the fool. Several officials close to him exchanged knowing glances, and he nodded slightly, his hands tucked into his sleeves.

The position of Disaster Relief Commissioner ultimately fell to the Fifth Prince, an outcome Wei Zheng had long anticipated. How could he not know that today’s events were the Crown Prince’s doing? Yet, he gave little thought to these petty schemes. He didn’t even need to lift a finger before a reckless fool rushed forward and stepped into the trap for him.

The undercurrents of intrigue did not occupy Wei Zheng’s thoughts for long. After leaving the palace, he hurried back to his manor, eager, only to find the side chamber devoid of the one he sought. His expression darkened, and with a wave of his hand, a duty assassin emerged from the shadows and knelt before him.

"Where is Wei San?" he asked coldly. "Weren’t you supposed to watch over him?"

On duty were Wei Liu and Wei Jiu. Wei Liu, straightforward and oblivious, didn’t grasp his anger, but the clever Wei Jiu quickly replied, "Wei San told us earlier he was going to the kitchen. He must be preparing Your Highness’s evening meal."

Wei Zheng’s frown eased slightly, and the corners of his lips lifted almost imperceptibly.

It seemed the little assassin still remembered his master and was taking the initiative to care for him. Wei Zheng kept his delight restrained, clearing his throat with feigned indifference. "How long has he been gone?"

Wei Jiu answered truthfully, "It’s been the time an incense stick takes to burn. He should be back soon."

"Understood." Wei Zheng motioned for them to withdraw.

He adjusted his robes and sat down, but after a moment, feeling as though waiting idly would make it obvious he was anticipating someone’s return, he stood up and fetched a book of travels from the bookshelf, flipping through it absentmindedly.

Meanwhile, Wei San, standing by the kitchen stove, was unaware of anyone eagerly awaiting his return. He stared worriedly at the "chicken soup" bubbling with black smoke in the pot.

Clearly, his plan to find an excuse to avoid his master by keeping himself busy had failed.

Equally troubled was the manor’s chef, Wang Pangzi. He glanced repeatedly at the pot but couldn’t muster any false praise.

He cautiously peeked at Wei San’s expression and timidly suggested, "Young Master Sui Yun, perhaps… you could try again tomorrow?"

Wei San sighed and waved his hand. "No need. I’m not cut out for cooking."

He had come to accept his lack of culinary talent. Rather than cooking, it felt more like brewing poison. He would have to find another way.

Wang Pangzi wiped the sweat from his forehead, barely suppressing a smile.

"Then, shall I have someone deliver these dishes for you?"

Several dishes were placed into an insulated food box. As Wang Pangzi closed the lid and was about to call a servant to quickly see off this unwelcome visitor, Wei San reached out and took hold of the container’s handle. "No need for the trouble. I’ll take it back myself."

Though he was an awkward and unnamed male favorite in the eyes of the manor’s servants, he was still a semi-master. Wang Pangzi dared not question his decision and obediently withdrew his hand, respectfully seeing Wei San off.

The kitchen wasn’t far from the side chamber—a mere fifteen-minute walk.

Wei San pushed the door open and entered, immediately meeting a pair of raised, phoenix-like eyes watching him with amusement.

"Where have you been for so long?"

Wei San hadn’t expected him to return so early. He immediately recalled Wei Zheng’s order forbidding him from leaving the side chamber freely. Guiltily, he lowered his head and tightened his grip on the food container.

"This subordinate thought Your Highness would be returning soon, so I took the liberty of going to the kitchen to prepare some food."

Wei Zheng neither approved nor disapproved. Setting aside the slightly crumpled book of travels, he beckoned. "Come here."

Wei San had no choice but to close the door and approach under Wei Zheng’s intense gaze.

He stopped several feet away, too nervous to meet Wei Zheng’s eyes.

Wei San was somewhat slow in matters of emotion, but he was no fool when it came to reading people. For over ten days, he had played dumb to avoid Wei Zheng’s advances, clearly pushing the once-indulged Wei Zheng to his limit. The look in Wei Zheng’s eyes grew increasingly undisguised and voracious, as if he wanted to devour him whole.

Wei Zheng watched the assassin, who seemed ready to curl into a ball and hide, feeling both annoyed and amused. He had the nerve to avoid his master but lacked the courage to face him now.

His patience, worn thin by days of evasion, finally snapped. He stood up and advanced toward the assassin, grabbing his wrist before he could retreat and effortlessly taking the tightly gripped food container from his hand.

"M-Master?"

Wei San was terrified, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. He sensed that the atmosphere had taken a dangerous turn.

He wanted to escape the situation, but the one trapping him was his most revered master. He couldn’t bring himself to resist.

Wei Zheng took the opportunity to set the food container on a nearby table. Then, with a sweep of his arm, he scooped Wei San up, holding him against his chest.

Suddenly weightless, Wei San instinctively wrapped his arms around Wei Zheng’s neck, trembling like a frightened kitten nestled in his embrace.

Wei Zheng showed no sympathy for his fright. Instead, he gave a low chuckle. "How long do you plan to keep pretending with me?"

"What does Master mean? This subordinate doesn’t understand."

The person in his arms stiffened, his face instantly drained of color. He forced an appearance of calm, but his eyes darted away guiltily.

Wei Zheng did not respond immediately. Instead, he carried him all the way into the room and sat on the bed, still holding him.

Wei San thought he would be set down, but instead, he was seated directly on his thigh, held even tighter.

Once certain he couldn’t escape, Wei Zheng began to bring up past grievances.

“How could you not understand?”

“You pretended to be drunk to seduce me, had your way with me, then feigned amnesia and memory loss—day after day, you tease me, letting me look but not touch, driving me utterly captivated by you. Truly, what skillful tactics.”

Wei Zheng’s torrent of accusations left Wei San completely stunned. His peach-blossom eyes widened in shock as he shook his head in denial, his gaze misty: “I did no such thing!”

At most, he had only pretended to forget—he had none of those other intentions. How could his lord think of him as… so scheming and impure?

“Your mouth has always been skilled at deception—I won’t be fooled.” Wei Zheng paid no heed to his excuses, domineeringly nipping and tasting his lips, causing the little assassin to tremble with shock, his pupils shaking.

Wei San’s mind went blank, completely bewildered by how things had come to this. All he heard was Wei Zheng declaring matter-of-factly, “Since you’ve already had your way with me, you must take responsibility for it.”