Chapter 32: Chapter Thirty-Two You Will Always Stay by This Prince’s Side, Right?…

Chapter 32: Thirty-Two "You will always stay by my side, won't you?"...

Lord Wang’s party certainly dared not utter a word, nor even steal a glance.

Where a daybed should have been, a screen now abruptly stood, obscuring the view, though two intimately intertwined figures could faintly be discerned behind it.

Only after they had entered the room did the Virtuous Prince emerge leisurely from behind the screen.

The private room boasted decent soundproofing, yet it wasn't entirely impervious to noise. Everyone present was keenly aware of this, though none dared to betray their knowledge.

Behind the screen, Wei San gasped in shame. That jade implement, the very source of his mortification, was now carefully swaddled in a handkerchief, its lustrous sheen offering no hint of its recent use.

From beyond the screen, the cheerful sounds of Wei Zheng conversing with others drifted in. The mere sound of his voice caused Wei San’s body to subtly, involuntarily tremble, as if caressed by an unseen hand.

He felt as though something within him had irrevocably broken; how else could he be so affected by just a voice?

Ashamed, he raised an arm to shield his eyes, biting his lower lip to stifle a silent groan.

.

After seeing off Lord Wang and his entourage, Wei Zheng closed the door and immediately returned behind the screen, eager for intimate moments with his young assassin. To his surprise, he found the assassin curled up, back turned, as if guilty of some transgression.

A faint, musky scent hung in the air. Wei Zheng, no longer the inexperienced novice he once was, understood its implication perfectly.

He chuckled softly, and the figure on the daybed visibly shivered, drawing himself even tighter.

Without another word, he offered a knowing smile, then stepped out from behind the screen. From the doorway, he instructed Wei Liu and Wei Jiu: "Go, tell the waiter to bring up a basin of hot water."

Wei Liu and Wei Jiu exchanged a look of dismay. "…………"

Did he really have to be so blatant? Lord Wang and his party had only just departed!

The two felt a pang of unease, but as loyal assassins, they knew better than to question their master’s affairs—or even to dwell on them.

Approximately half an hour later, a waiter placed a copper basin filled with hot water and a fresh silk cloth on the wooden stand. After a few fawning pleasantries, Wei Zheng casually tossed him a piece of silver. The waiter’s face immediately lit up as he retreated, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.

Wei Zheng soaked the silk cloth, wrung it dry, and sat beside Wei San, clearly intending to attend to him personally. Realizing his master’s intent, Wei San trembled with fear, the tips of his ears, hidden beneath his hair, turning a startling crimson.

He mumbled, "Master, your humble servant... can manage it myself."

Wei Zheng couldn’t resist pinching his earlobe, amused. "What's there to be shy about? Is there any part of you I haven't seen? So what if you came? It's hardly a big deal."

Though his words were true, Wei San still felt utterly humiliated. He had lost all dignity, unable even to preserve the last shred of self-respect by cleaning himself. Wei Zheng was clearly determined to do it himself, so Wei San could only grit his teeth and endure, once again resigning himself to his fate.

Wei Zheng approvingly pinched the soft nape of his neck, "Such a good boy. This is my excellent male favorite."

Of course, Wei Zheng’s intentions went beyond a simple cleanup. By the time they emerged from the private room, a good half-hour had elapsed. From Wei San’s evasive gaze, it was clear that what had transpired was far from simple.

Wei Jiu and Wei Liu exchanged knowing glances, then feigned complete ignorance.

.

On the Qixi Festival, the seventh night of the seventh month, according to the customs of the Great Yu Dynasty, the capital celebrated with three consecutive days of lantern displays and temple fairs. Young men and women, dressed in their finest, wore masks—the women carrying scented sachets and silk handkerchiefs, the men adorned with jade pendants and folding fans. If a man and woman found each other appealing, they could exchange tokens. After the festival, the man would present the token to the woman’s family to propose marriage.

Wei Zheng removed the fox mask from Wei San’s face. Wei San looked puzzled, and Wei Zheng declared, "Only unmarried men and women wear masks. You are my male favorite. Are you wearing a mask to entice some single man or woman?"

Wei San was left speechless. He had only worn the mask to follow tradition, but Wei Zheng had twisted its meaning entirely.

To avoid being unfairly accused of deliberate seduction, Wei San had no choice but to let Wei Zheng casually toss the fox mask to Wei Liu.

Wei Liu glanced down at the mask in his hand, then looked between Wei San and Wei Zheng, certain the mask wouldn't remain in his possession for long.

Indeed, it wasn't long before Wei Zheng, his face darkening, reached out to him: "The mask. Hand it over."

Wei Liu thought, *Just as I expected*, and respectfully presented it with both hands.

It was no wonder Wei Zheng was so exasperated. Wei San’s face possessed an overwhelming allure—it not only captivated passing men, making them stop in their tracks, but also caused young women to blush and shyly twist their handkerchiefs, eager to approach him and exchange tokens.

This infuriated Wei Zheng. He was standing right there, shoulder to shoulder with his assassin. Anyone with an ounce of sense should have realized they were a couple, yet these people brazenly tried to poach him right under Wei Zheng’s nose.

After repeatedly fending off several men and women eager to make his acquaintance, Wei Zheng finally lost his patience. He firmly placed the fox mask back on Wei San’s face. Yet, even with the mask, it didn't feel like enough. If not for the heat, he might have ordered Wei Jiu to procure a hooded cloak for Wei San, wishing to conceal him completely, not allowing outsiders to glimpse even a single strand of his hair.

Driven by possessiveness, Wei Zheng instructed Wei Liu and Wei Jiu to discreetly follow them from the shadows. He then led Wei San away from the crowds and up to the capital’s tallest tower.

The tower's uppermost floor offered a panoramic view of the entire capital's nightscape. Ordinary citizens were not permitted access; only the wealthy and noble could ascend to the top. And who among them wouldn't recognize the Virtuous Prince, the capital's current sensation?

With the Virtuous Prince having a private rendezvous with his young male favorite, it would be impolite for mere bystanders to linger and spoil the moment.

Before long, the people on the top floor tactfully departed, leaving the space to them.

The already sparsely populated top floor suddenly became empty, leaving only the master and his servant standing side by side.

A Milky Way stretched across the night sky, studded with countless twinkling stars. A bright moon hung centrally, with wisps of cloud drifting lazily on the breeze.

The night wind was strong, and at the tower's summit, it was even fiercer. Their long hair writhed wildly like golden serpents, intertwining in an inseparable dance.

Wei Zheng seemed to have brought him up there simply to enjoy the night view, making no untoward advances.

Below the tower lay the bustling human world. Couples walked hand-in-hand, while children occasionally frolicked and chased each other through the lively market. Their pinwheels spun with a whirring sound, only to halt abruptly when they spotted a stall laden with tanghulu. They would then tug at their parents’ clothes, clamoring for a stick.

Wei Zheng looked down, seemingly amused, and said with a light laugh, "I remember the last time I came to see the lantern festival was when I was seven. My uncle used the pretext of paying respects to my mother to secretly take me out of the palace."

He pointed at the child who had just received his tanghulu and was now hugging his father’s leg, begging sweetly. "Back then, I begged my uncle just like that to buy me a stick of tanghulu. But I had just lost my baby teeth, so he refused. I threw quite a fit at him."

"That night, my uncle took me to guess riddles, release lanterns, and try many snacks you couldn’t find in the palace. We also came up this tower to look down over the entire capital."

"He told me that this prosperous and stable Great Yu Dynasty was defended with the lives of the Xu family ancestors. He said I must guard this kingdom well when I grew up."

As Wei Zheng recounted these distant memories, his expression was relaxed and content, even dropping the royal "we" for "I."

Wei San watched him, inexplicably feeling that beneath the surface, he wasn’t as lighthearted as he seemed. Hidden deep within was likely an inescapable loneliness and grief.

He pursed his lips, feeling he should do something, so he asked, "Did you eventually get the tanghulu, Master?"

Wei Zheng was taken aback, lost in thought. Just as Wei San thought he wouldn’t answer, he said quietly, "I did."

But it wasn’t during the lantern festival. It was when his uncle was dispatched to battle the Great Jin Dynasty. Before leaving, his uncle had sent a deputy to deliver it.

After that, he never saw his uncle again. Because on the third year of the campaign, on his tenth birthday, his uncle died in battle.

Somewhere, fireworks were set off. Colorful, brilliant fireworks exploded in the night sky, blooming for a moment of breathtaking beauty before fading away with long, trailing tails.

Wei Zheng naturally took Wei San’s hand, forcefully interlacing their fingers, holding tight.

"Wei San, you will always stay by my side, won’t you?"

Wei Zheng murmured softly, but the suddenly rising fierce wind snatched his words away, making them indistinct.

He had lost too much in the first half of his life. Whenever he gained something, he couldn’t help but want to hold it tightly, confirming over and over that it wouldn’t suddenly disappear.

Wei San couldn't quite hear clearly, but he could read lips. Without hesitation, he said, "I was born to belong to the master. Wherever the master is, I will be there. Even if I die, I must return to the master’s side to do so. This is something that will never change."

He didn't know if Wei Zheng could hear him clearly, but the thought was in his heart, so he spoke it aloud.

Wei Zheng felt both pleased and displeased. Frowning deeply, he clenched Wei San's hand tightly. "Don’t say such things."

Had he said something wrong? Why did the master seem even more displeased?

Wei San was initially puzzled, but upon reflection, he realized it was probably just because he had mentioned the word "death," which the master found ill-omened. After all, it was a festive occasion, and he had spoken such an unlucky phrase—it was only natural for the master to be angry.

Feeling that he had made a mistake, he said, "I have spoken wrongly. I ask the master to punish me."

Wei Zheng shot a glance and, seeing Wei San's fearful expression, knew he had misunderstood.

He sighed, raised his free hand, curled his index finger, and flicked Wei San's forehead. "Your life belongs to me. You are not allowed to die without my permission—not even to speak of it."

Wei Zheng held back his strength a bit at the last moment. Though it looked fierce, the tap didn't actually hurt.

Wei San was stunned—not by pain, but by surprise. He was surprised that what the master cared about was not wanting him to speak of his own death.

Unexpectedly, a wave of joy spread through Wei San's heart.

Did this mean that, in the master's heart, there was at least a little care for him?

To earn the master's care and recognition—this was perhaps the brightest moment in his assassin’s life.