Chapter 26 Past and Present Lives

Chapter 26: Past Life, Present Life

Outside, a light rain fell, while inside, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He was afraid that his medicine might be poisoned.

Chu Jiubian realized.

Indeed, he and Qin Xiao were not close friends who trusted each other but rather partners in it for their own gain.

If their roles were reversed today, he wouldn’t trust Qin Xiao either.

But the young emperor was blameless.

A faint smile appeared at the corners of Chu Jiubian’s lips. He did not withdraw his hand but instead switched the cup to his right hand.

Then, he let two drops of the medicine fall onto the back of his left hand between thumb and index finger.

The lamplight in the room flickered dimly.

The young man’s bangs were slightly damp, his eyelashes dark and thick.

His skin was pale as jade, yet his cheeks and the roots of his ears were tinged with a faint pink, and his glistening lips were blood-red.

He leaned in slightly, bringing himself closer to his left hand, which was gripped by Qin Xiao.

The striking contrast between his crimson lips and pale skin created a strikingly beautiful contrast.

Qin Xiao watched as Chu Jiubian licked the medicine from his hand and swallowed.

His gaze shifted upward, and their eyes met.

He saw the mocking smile in Chu Jiubian’s eyes and loosened his grip.

Chu Jiubian withdrew his hand and sat up straight. Without looking at Qin Xiao again, he held the cup to Baili Hong’s lips.

This time, Qin Xiao did not stop him.

“Your Majesty, this isn’t bitter. Once you take it, you’ll feel better,” Chu Jiubian said softly.

Baili Hong blinked, sniffed the air suspiciously, and indeed detected no bitter smell.

Only then did he obediently open his mouth: “Ah—”

Chu Jiubian carefully fed him the medicine drop by drop.

“Is it bitter?” Chu Jiubian asked with a smile.

The child smacked his lips and shook his head: “Not bitter at all.”

Chu Jiubian reached out and ruffled the child’s hair: “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

No matter how young he was, he was still the emperor. Technically, Chu Jiubian shouldn’t pamper him like a child, but he couldn’t help himself.

Qin Xiao stood up and stepped back.

He watched as Chu Jiubian gently coaxed the child to lie down, dabbed his face with a handkerchief, and soothed him with soft words.

This version of Chu Jiubian was almost completely different compared to his usual self.

Even his eyes, which were usually cold, were now filled with deep emotion, as if he were seeing something else through Baili Hong’s small face.

It was rare to see Chu Jiubian so emotionally exposed. Qin Xiao rubbed his fingers, which had just touched the other’s wrist, as if some lingering heat still felt warm.

Was it because of the fever?

Baili Hong, worn out from all the crying, quickly grew drowsy after taking the medicine and being comforted by Chu Jiubian, and was soon fast asleep.

Before coming here, Chu Jiubian had taken medicine, and now it seemed to be taking effect. His head still ached and felt dizzy, but he was overwhelmingly sleepy.

His eyelids grew heavy, the ringing in his ears piercing through his eardrums and striking his fragile nerves, his mind growing foggy.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he started losing touch with reality and dreams, looking down in confusion.

He saw that he seemed much shorter, wearing a red and white elementary school uniform, with a pair of somewhat worn white shoes on his feet.

The ringing in his ears gradually faded, replaced by the growing noise and bustle of the city.

He looked up and saw a familiar yet unfamiliar narrow street, lined with small shops on both sides. It had just rained, and everything in sight was wet and glistening.

The smell of damp earth filled his nostrils.

“Xiao Jiu!” a woman’s voice called out.

Chu Jiubian turned to look and saw a somewhat familiar face, covered in fine sweat, as if she had been running hurriedly.

“Xiao Jiu, hurry home! Your parents are fighting again!” The woman grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him forward. “Your little brother is locked on the balcony, crying his eyes out. None of us dared to…”

Chu Jiubian ran faster and faster, gradually leaving the woman behind.

He saw himself getting closer and closer to that old rundown building, his ears filled only with the sound of his own rapid breathing.

Gradually, he heard the blood-curdling screams of a child, growing clearer and more desperate by the second.

Almost there, almost there.

In Chu Jiubian’s bloodshot eyes, the reflection of a small figure on the sixth-floor balcony appeared.

A round little face, childish proportions, holding a box of colorful marbles, his back pressed tightly against a row of railings no thicker than fingers.

Get back! Get away from there!

Chu Jiubian wanted to shout, but no sound came out. He could only run faster.

Bang—

The balcony door was suddenly slammed open, and the child, frightened, pressed himself even harder against the railings.

The old, neglected railings creaked, swaying precariously.

A tall man rushed out from inside, gripping a woman’s long hair with one hand and holding half a bottle of liquor in the other.

Amid the woman’s screams and curses and the child’s cries, he took two large gulps of alcohol, shouting obscenities from his mouth.

The woman’s face was tear-streaked as she scratched the man’s face with her ragged nails and sank her teeth into his arm.

The man yelled in pain and shoved the woman away hard.

The woman crashed into the railing, completely knocking the already precarious railing outward.

The little child clinging tightly to it was caught off guard and tumbled backward from the impact.

Thud!

The small body shattered, and colorful marbles mixed with flesh and blood scattered across the wet ground, leaving trails of blood.

The screams of countless men and women pierced the eardrums.

Chu Jiubian knelt on the ground, his outstretched arms just a foot and a half away from the pool of blood.

After a long moment, he slowly raised his hand to touch his face and felt a sticky, crimson wetness.

"My lord, the young master's fever has subsided. He must have been exhausted last night; it's fine if he sleeps a little longer."

"Mm, you may go."

Chu Jiubian slowly opened his eyes to an unfamiliar carved bed frame, with the faint scent of incense drifting into his nostrils.

Morning had come.

He blinked his tired, sore eyes; his headache was gone, but his body felt weak.

He turned his head and saw Qin Xiao, who had just dismissed the imperial physician.

The man probably hadn't slept all night, still wearing the same outer robe from yesterday, his hair slightly disheveled.

Qin Xiao turned to look at the bed, meeting the young man's inspecting gaze.

"You're awake," he said naturally, with a laugh in his voice. He went to the table to pour a cup of water and brought it to the bedside. "The sun is already high in the sky—you've slept longer than even His Majesty."

Chu Jiubian propped himself up, took the offered water, and drank it all.

Qin Xiao took the cup back and asked, "More?"

"No." Chu Jiubian put on his boots and got out of bed, glancing at the system time. "Where is the sun high in the sky?"

It was barely seven o'clock; he had woken up quite early.

Qin Xiao chuckled. "You suddenly fell asleep last night. If I hadn't been quick to catch you, you would've hit His Majesty with your head and woken him."

Chu Jiubian raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I was poisoned?"

Qin Xiao’s expression turned unusually awkward for a moment before he gave a formal bow. "If it were me, I wouldn’t have been so cautious. I ask for your understanding."

"Alright." Chu Jiubian combed his fingers through his hair. "How is His Majesty? Is he awake?"

"His fever has broken. He woke up earlier, had some porridge, and went back to sleep."

"Good." Chu Jiubian headed toward the chamber entrance. "I’ll go back to wash up and then return."

"Alright." Qin Xiao walked side by side with him toward the exit.

Only then did Chu Jiubian realize he was in the west courtyard—which was Qin Xiao’s residence.

As they stepped out of the courtyard, Xiao Xiangzi hurried forward to greet them but, mindful of Qin Xiao’s presence, didn’t dare speak freely, simply following two steps behind.

Once they left the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Qin Xiao did not accompany them further.

Chu Jiubian walked a few steps, then stopped.

He turned around, looking at Qin Xiao with a searching look: "I didn’t say anything foolish in his sleep last night, did I?"

"No," Qin Xiao said.

Chu Jiubian nodded, his gaze lingering on the dark stubble emerging on the man’s chin, then reached up to touch his own.

It seemed he had some stubble too, but his facial hair had always grown slowly—certainly not as much as Qin Xiao’s, though.

Seeing this, Qin Xiao also raised a hand to touch his own chin.

Chu Jiubian smiled and turned to leave.

Qin Xiao watched his back as he left until he was out of sight before finally looking away.

Meanwhile, the various residences in the capital gradually grew lively.

Throughout the previous night, many servants had hurried between various places, delivering the news of the day’s cancellation of court to every household.

In the Da Ning Dynasty, court was held every three days with one day off. Today should have been a court day, but it was canceled. Tomorrow was already a day off, which meant two consecutive days to sleep in.

Lower-ranking officials were quite pleased, most slept until almost duty time before rising.

In contrast, the first, second, and third-ranking officials rose at the usual court hour as always. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they took the opportunity before their duties began to seek out their superiors or arrived early at their offices to discuss the previous night’s events with familiar colleagues.

The young emperor was still a child, having recently lost both his mother and father. Combined with the unpredictable weather lately, no one was surprised that he had come down with a feverish chill.

Had he passed away, the capital would have plunged into chaos.

However, with Qin Xiao present, that possibility was extremely slim.

Sure enough, when they woke up that morning, it was heard that the young emperor’s fever had subsided and he had already gotten up to eat breakfast, suggesting he was almost fully recovered.

Naturally, all this news from the Hall of Mental Cultivation was put out on Qin Xiao’s orders; otherwise, no one would have been able to obtain such information.

Lower-ranking officials huddled in the government offices, whispering among themselves.

“They say that when the imperial physicians first left the Hall of Mental Cultivation, their faces were deathly pale, and they carried the scent of medicine. Some even had medicine stains on their clothes. It seems the emperor couldn’t stomach the bitter medicinal brew and vomited it up.”

Each of their households had one or two beloved children, and they all knew how difficult it was for children to take bitter medicine—most would inevitably throw it up.

“Exactly. Later, Senior Tutor Chu arrived, and before long, most of the remaining physicians left the Hall of Mental Cultivation, their expressions much more relaxed. That must have been when the emperor began to recover.”

“Surely Senior Tutor Chu must know some medicine or possess some miraculous cure.”

“Truly befitting an immortal descended to the mortal realm—able to create ice, save lives, and even acquainted with so many immortal poets. Truly remarkable.”

“Do you really believe he’s a deity? To me, he seems more like a remarkable person with special abilities.”

“There are plenty of remarkable individuals, so why has no one else been able to produce ice or recite such poems?”

“Setting aside the matter of creating ice for now, those poems were merely composed by the great talents he is familiar with. How does that prove he is a god?”

“That makes sense. The worries and sentiments expressed in those poems are no different from those of us mortals. He definitely isn’t a deity.”

“But deities were once mortals who ascended to immortality. Those poems must have been composed by the Immortal Poets before they ascended. Perhaps it was precisely because they could create such divine works that they were able to ascend to immortality.”

Opinions varied widely—some dismissed the idea of gods and spirits as unbelievable, while others firmly believed in it.

However, it cannot be denied that from the moment Chu Jiubian appeared, he has always been the focus of conversation among the capital officials.

Unlike the bustling government offices, the high-walled mansions did not have as many people speculating.

"It is said that as soon as the news of His Majesty's fever reached Yaotai Residence, Senior Tutor Chu hurried to the Hall of Mental Cultivation without even bothering to dress properly."

Vice Minister of Revenue Wang Pengyi sat in a subordinate seat, gently waving a folding fan.

He was not yet thirty, with a handsome and refined face, the epitome of a refined young noble, and the most typical image of a "Wang family member" in the eyes of the world.

In the main seat, Minister of Rites Wang Zhiyuan fiddled with a jade pendant and said slowly, "He certainly knows how to put on a show."

"Or perhaps he genuinely cares," Wang Pengyi said. "Spending all day together, and as the Senior Tutor, it's possible he has formed a genuine bond with our young emperor."

"I don’t think he’s the kind to be soft-hearted," Wang Zhiyuan narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked outside the hall. "Even that old fox Xiao Huaiguan couldn’t get the better of him, let alone a three-year-old child."

Xiao Huaiguan was the most cunning old fox in the Xiao family. Even if he hadn’t gained anything from Chu Jiubian, he wouldn’t show it.

But Wang Zhiyuan had entered officialdom around the same time as him, and they had been rivals for decades. He knew the man’s nature all too well.

Thus, when he heard yesterday that Xiao Huaiguan had not personally escorted Chu Jiubian to the Ministry of Personnel, he knew the negotiations had failed—and that Xiao Huaiguan had likely been bested by Chu Jiubian.

Moreover, according to the spies, Xiao Huaiguan had even exchanged a salute as equals with Chu Jiubian. For someone who loved to flaunt his seniority, such an act could only mean he feared Chu Jiubian and regarded him as an equal.

Such a "Ninth Young Master," such a "Senior Tutor"—Wang Zhiyuan did not believe he would develop affection for a child he had only known for a few days.

Wang Pengyi said thoughtfully, "So, according to you, Senior Tutor Chu has not yet made a decision?"

During yesterday’s morning court session, Chu Jiubian and Qin Xiao had coordinated seamlessly, and even the young emperor had provided key support at the critical moment.

Wang Pengyi, like many lower-ranking officials, actually believed that Chu Jiubian was likely to side with Qin Xiao and the young emperor.

After all, they represented the legitimate authority and were the most influential faction at the moment. Moreover, Qin Xiao had taken the initiative, granting Chu Jiubian significant real power. Such a deal could not have been exchanged solely for Chu Jiubian’s ice-making technique; there must have been something else.

Perhaps the terms of the deal involved Chu Jiubian’s future "alignment" in the capital.

Wang Zhiyuan, nearing seventy, remained vigorous. He lowered his gaze to the jade pendant in his hand.

Chu Jiubian’s background was mysterious, and he indeed possessed some genuine skills.

At present, none of them knew where he came from or what his intentions were.

Previously, they had considered recruiting him out of caution and for the sake of interests.

But now, this caution had grown deeper and had begun to become their "biggest threat."

This man moved among the major powers, and in just a few days in the capital, he had already upended the existing situation. If allowed to continue, who knew what might happen?

"This Senior Tutor Chu is truly elusive," Wang Zhiyuan sighed softly, a flicker of ruthlessness and murderous intent passing through his eyes.

Wang Pengyi slightly composed his expression. "Then, should we..."

He tentatively glanced at his superior in the main seat, who was also his own grandfather.

In such a situation, it seemed that killing Chu Jiubian outright was the best option.

But he was still a human being.

Wang Zhiyuan fixed his gaze on Wang Pengyi’s face, making him shy away uncomfortably.

"Don’t learn your father’s womanly soft-heartedness," Wang Zhiyuan rebuked coldly. "Remember this: humans may harbor no ill will toward tigers, but tigers will harm humans nonetheless. Keep this in mind in all matters."

Wang Pengyi quickly stood up and bowed. "Grandfather’s lesson is understood."

"Enough, go to your duties."

"Yes." Wang Pengyi slowly exited the room and then made his way out of the main courtyard.

The Four Great Families were large and populous, with multiple generations of direct descendants living along the same street, divided into individual compounds, each with ten to twenty gates.

The Wang family was no exception. Among the row of courtyards, the central one was the main residence where the family head, Wang Huanzhi, and his sons and nephews lived. It was also the only one bearing the plaque "Langya Wang Clan."

Wang Zhiyuan was Wang Huanzhi’s paternal uncle, and his courtyard was adjacent to the main residence.

Wang Pengyi exited the main gate and stepped onto the long, extended street.

The entire street was exclusively inhabited by the family. Following the street to its end, one could reach Shenwu Avenue, and then head north to the fork leading to Chang’an Street, where the Ministry of Revenue was located.

It had stopped raining, but the sky remained overcast, suggesting more rain might come later.

Taking advantage of the rare coolness, Wang Pengyi, feeling somewhat troubled, decided not to take a carriage. Instead, he took an umbrella and walked slowly forward.

It had rained all night, but the bluestone pavement showed no standing water, only a slight dampness.

His grandfather was right. His father was indeed a pedantic Confucian scholar, obsessed with learning, possessing the pride and arrogance unique to literati, as well as the soft-heartedness typical of some Confucian scholars.

He worried about the nation and its people but despised the political arena, unable to comprehend the scheming and deceit. As a result, his father had never been entrusted with important responsibilities, remaining only a great scholar known for lecturing and debating.

Wang Pengyi was different from his father; he could see the situation clearly.

But like his father, he also despised the power struggles and the oppression of authority.

Yet there was no other way. As a member of the Wang family, he had received the best the family had to offer, and he owed it to the family to give his all in return.

He knew that his grandfather would go out today to meet those high-ranking officials who wielded immense power. They would point their swords toward the palace and toward the enigmatic Ninth Young Master.

No one knew his identity or intentions, but out of sheer caution, to prevent future uncertainties, they were prepared to take a living person’s life.

And Wang Pengyi, fully aware of this, could only watch helplessly.

This was not the first time, nor would it be the last.

Suddenly, someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Wang Pengyi snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see a handsome man of similar height.

The man wore a loose, ill-fitting dark green robe, with slightly curly long hair flowing freely. As the cool breeze occasionally brushed past, his hair danced restlessly, much like its owner—unconventional, free, and unrestrained.

Wang Pengyi unconsciously smiled and said, "Wang Qichen, where are you off to so early in the morning?"

"Naturally, I have a rendezvous with a beauty, for drinks and merriment."

Wang Qichen opened his folding fan and waved it gently, his fox-like eyes sparkling brightly, every bit the image of a frivolous young noble.

Wang Pengyi laughed. "I envy you, carefree and happy all day long."

"Cousin, are you making fun of me?"

"What if I am? Will you retaliate?"

"Of course not. Of all my cousins, you’ve always been the kindest to me."

"Are you short on money again?" Cousin Wang Pengyi shot him a sidelong glance.

"Cousin, you know me too well." Wang Qichen replied with a grin.

Wang Pengyi snorted and took out a purse from inside his robes, but before he could open it, his cousin snatched it away.

"Take the money, but the purse was embroidered by your sister-in-law," he said.

"I know." Wang Qichen took out several gold ingots and returned the purse.

Wang Pengyi tucked the much lighter purse back into his chest, saying, "It does feel much lighter now."

Wang Qichen laughed delightedly.

The two went their separate ways at Shenwu Avenue, and Wang Pengyi felt that his foul mood had improved quite a bit.

Wang Qichen ambled along leisurely and managed to reach Jinxiu Street just before it started to rain.

The best restaurant in Jinxiu Street was the Jinxiu Restaurant, owned by the emperor, located at the very center of the street. It had the widest selection, and even the storyteller there was known as the quickest-tongued storyteller in the capital.

Wang Qichen had only taken a few steps into Jinxiu Street when a light drizzle started.

He held his fan above his head and made his way quickly to Jinxiu Restaurant.

At this hour, the restaurant hadn’t officially opened yet, and only the waiters were busy preparing for the day’s business.

Wang Qichen was a regular and even had a bedroom on the top floor, so if he arrived early or stayed late drinking, he would simply spend the night there.

Familiar with the place, he entered the restaurant and, as he stepped inside, passed by someone.

He walked in, put down his fan, and turned around.

All he caught was the back of a man dressed in form-fitting clothes and a straw hat. In just a glance, the man had already disappeared around the street corner, moving so swiftly that he was clearly a martial arts master.

"Young Master Jiyue has arrived," the manager greeted him personally. "It’s cold outside, please come in and sit down."

Wang Qichen’s courtesy name was Jiyue. Because people often teased him by using it, and since Wang Qichen didn’t mind, it gradually became his nickname.

"Who was that man just now?" Wang Qichen asked.

The manager smiled and said, "Just a roaming martial artist. The rain was heavy last night, so he took shelter here for the night."

A roaming martial artist.

Wang Qichen made his way upstairs, thinking to himself, what kind of martial artist would come to the capital at a time like this?

He’s probably someone’s retainer guard.

Inside the high walls of the imperial palace.

A figure silently cleared numerous halls and palaces.

An Wuji was eating meat buns with several subordinates by a palace wall, chatting about the recent martial arts tournament and the martial arts alliance leader who had held the top spot for three consecutive terms, spanning nine years.

A faint sound of wind reached his ears, and An Wuji’s sharp eyes suddenly turned toward a certain direction.

The subordinates beside him immediately stopped laughing. "Sir?"

But An Wuji looked away and smiled. "It’s nothing."

==

Baili Hong didn't wake until almost ten o'clock. By then, Qin Xiao had been called to the western courtyard by Qin Zhaoyang, leaving only Chu Jiubian and Hong Fu waiting by his side.

The child drowsily climbed to his feet, rubbing his swollen eyes with his little hands, his hair tousled from sleep.

"Your Majesty," Eunuch Hong hurried over, gently wiping the child's eyes with a clean handkerchief. "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

Chu Jiubian, who had been reviewing memorials, also walked to the bedside.

"No, it's just that my eyes are a bit swollen," the child said with a smile to Hong Fu, reaching out to pat his head. "Don't be sad, Eunuch Hong."

He had seen it yesterday—Eunuch Hong had cried along with him.

Back when his mother was still around, it was the same: every time he cried, his mother cried, and Eunuch Hong cried too.

Hong Fu's eyes welled up, but he smiled even more tenderly. "As you wish, Your Majesty, I won't be sad. I'll go prepare water for you to wash up."

Baili Hong nodded, and Hong Fu stood up, bowed to Chu Jiubian, and then left the room.

"Sir," the child looked up at Chu Jiubian, his face full of admiration. "You're amazing. I felt better after taking your medicine, and it wasn't bitter at all."

Such an angelic little child, coaxing others in a small, childish voice not to be sad, sincerely expressing gratitude and his own thoughts—truly, no one could resist him.

Chu Jiubian extended his hands and asked, "Would you like me to hold you, Your Majesty?"

There were no servants visibly present in the bedchamber, so aside from the hidden guards, no one else would know of Chu Jiubian's gesture.

The child with wide eyes glanced around and, seeing no one else, temporarily decided to forget about acting "dignified" as his uncle had taught him. Delighted, he stood up and threw himself into Chu Jiubian's arms.

He remembered the embrace from last night—it was very warm and not as hard and unyielding as his uncle's.

Chu Jiubian held him steadily and lifted him up high.

What child doesn't love being lifted up like this, and Baili Hong immediately burst into laughter.

Chu Jiubian watched the child's smiling face, a smile touched his own eyes.

Now, he was perfectly capable of holding a child steady.

The little one in his arms suddenly began to wiggle excitedly, stretching his arms toward the doorway and calling out, "Uncle!"

Chu Jiubian turned around with the child in his arms and saw Qin Xiao walking slowly toward them.

As soon as Qin Xiao drew near, Baili Hong reached out to grab the front of his clothes.

Chu Jiubian instinctively glanced there and noticed the faint outline of muscles beneath the fabric.

He suddenly recalled the feel from that one time—springy and quite pleasant to squeeze.

Qin Xiao gathered Baili Hong into his arms and looked up to see the young man seemingly taking a casual glance at his chest.