Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Luo Qianyu felt as though his consciousness was adrift in an ocean.

The sea surface was a deep blue, and the moonlight could be seen from afar, its glow cold and refreshing, luring the diver's spirit toward it. Luo Qianyu exerted all his strength, struggling to rise toward it, yet the surface seemed so near yet impossibly far, impossible to reach no matter how hard he tried.

Just as his consciousness was about to sink, he looked up, and the moon rushed to embrace him instead.

Mixed with the seawater, the sensation was icy cold. A breath was passed into his lips, pulling him back from the brink of drowning. Between his lips and teeth, only the faint fragrance of cold orchid remained.

Luo Qianyu made a muffled noise, and only then did the person release him.

He coughed up a mouthful of water, took a deep breath, and then began coughing in weak, intermittent fits, his neck and shoulders trembling. The suffocating feeling in his chest gradually faded, and his consciousness drifted hazily back, yet he vaguely sensed something was amiss.

Right now, it seemed he was being held in someone's arms?

That person reached out, his fingertip brushing past his lips, wiping away the water traces from his chin.

Though his vision was obstructed, Luo Qianyu detected the other's scent, and his memories flooded back. He barely recalled the harrowing events of this night and the fact that the person holding him now... was actually Wen Yu.

So, Wen Yu really turned back into the water to save him? What happened to self-preservation? Those experts... had Wen Yu already shaken them all off?

Wasn't he drowning? Where was he now, and how did he regain consciousness?

For a moment, too many questions surged in his heart. Luo Qianyu found himself unable to speak, somewhat dazedly pressing his lips together, moist and tight, appearing even more crimson.

Seeing him regain consciousness, that person seemed about to raise a hand to remove the black face covering that obscured his features and eyes.

The Young Marquis's heart jolted in alarm, seemingly sensing what the other intended to do. Instinctively, his whole body trembled. Battling the heavy, leaden weakness in his limbs, he raised a hand and grasped Wen Yu's wrist.

"No...!" Luo Qianyu, tinged with panic, whispered to stop him. "Wen Yu, you mustn't."

The other's movement indeed halted.

But the sense of crisis didn't dissipate. With his vision blocked, he was acutely aware that he was now like a salted fish on a chopping board, its tail held by Wen Yu, pinned on the block. The other could flip him over as he wished, strip away whatever he wanted, leaving him exposed.

Unable to move, he could only seek another path, attempting to negotiate for peace.

Fortunately, Wen Yu was a gentleman of integrity, something everyone knew. Though the Young Marquis felt uneasy, he had some measure of confidence in his heart.

After a brief silence, he heard the other speak, asking, "Why mustn't I?"

Luo Qianyu was taken aback, remaining silent with closed lips.

This question...

He was originally just a passerby, someone who shouldn't have had any intersection with Wen Yu. His previous acts of assistance were merely those of a bystander, a reader who knew the original story, a book-transmigrator, relying on his omniscient perspective to become, by some unseen force, the one who lent a hand to the male protagonist.

This person could have been him, or it could have been anyone.

He wasn't special. After transmigrating into the book, he harbored no soaring ambitions nor possessed any special advantage to crush his enemies. His sole focus was survival; he could only care for, wanted to care for, and was capable of caring for, only himself.

As for how he became the book's incredibly mysterious, elusive figure whom various CP shippers and book fans were obsessed with, straining every nerve to uncover his identity—the Mysterious Guest—that was purely forced by circumstances, an accident that could not be spoken of.

Setting aside the special identity of the Young Marquis, the inevitable intersections and entanglements with Wen Yu that were yet to come, and the subsequent inescapable, intricate connections, he deeply understood that letting Wen Yu know he was actually the Mysterious Guest held no benefit or meaning; it would only add unnecessary emotional complications.

The identity of the Mysterious Guest should vanish here and now.

Tracing everything back to its roots, it couldn't even fill a single page of a story. Since it was an accident, it was better to stop here, and it should only be this much.

But Wen Yu... why had he developed this obsession?

That person seemed to be looking at him. "At least tell me your name."

"..."

The person in his arms remained silent.

Wen Yu's breath grew heavy. Seeing the other still revealing nothing, he actually raised his hand again, intending to lift the face covering!

Luo Qianyu's heart jolted in alarm. How had this male protagonist learned to be so underhanded?!

His palm trembled, and he hurriedly tightened his grip on the other's sleeve, but his strength was feeble, barely hooking on like a cat's paw. He had no choice but to brace himself and open his lips, stammering out:

"Luo... Luo Jinyu."

Not only had he changed his surname, but his given name as well.

Who would have thought that Wen Yu, always as cool and upright as jade, wouldn't be so easily fooled this time? Not only did he not readily believe it, but he also lowered his voice to retort, "The same name as the Former Crown Prince?"

Then, seeing the situation, he made as if to pull it off again.

Luo Qianyu was on the verge of a breakdown. He could only soften his voice. "You... please let me go..."

"Only Your Excellency knows my name; that seems rather unfair," Wen Yu said in a low voice.

Luo Qianyu's eyelashes fluttered. He thought to himself, that's actually reasonable. How should he answer this? His mind raced rapidly. He could only take a deep breath and argue stubbornly, twisting logic to his advantage: "But I didn't actively seek out your name; it was that bastard Quan Songcheng who said it."

"Whether I wanted to know or not... I ended up knowing. There's no unfairness."

Although this argument was rather shameless, it successfully made Wen Yu fall silent for several seconds.

"That day, why did the young master appear at the Carved Flower Pavilion?" Wen Yu pondered for a moment before slowly asking. "Why... did you save me?"

Luo Qianyu's Adam's apple bobbed slightly. Somewhat bewildered, he curled his fingers and lowered his gaze. Fortunately, the cloth covered his face now, so Wen Yu couldn't see his expression. These questions were each more difficult to answer than the last, each more thorny than the previous. No answer felt right.

He had just opened his mouth, about to say something, when he abruptly stopped.

And it was at this very moment that a sword shadow shattered the tranquility, cutting through the wind, heading straight for Wen Yu's face!

Blade energy overflowed, light flashed and shadows danced. However, before it could press close, it had already been detected by that person.

Luo Qianyu's vision was blocked; he didn't know what was happening. He let out a startled cry. When the familiar sensation of being suspended in mid-air assaulted him again, he knew, damn it, here we go again.

Luo Shifu's voice arrived like a shadow, coldly uttering just four words: "Let him go."

Wen Yu saw the newcomer's appearance clearly and had some impression of this person.

He remembered last time on the flying eaves, the Mysterious Guest had intentionally avoided him but suddenly vanished from the eave corner, only to fall into this person's arms.

Watching as the other was taken away by the Imperial Guards, Wen Yu was forced to halt his steps. From then on, the trail went cold, leaving only that red hair ribbon fluttering in the wind in his hand.

Now that same red hair ribbon was once again wrapped around his own hand. Not only did he have no intention of returning the item to its owner, he didn't intend to return the owner himself either.

It was fortunate these inner thoughts weren't known to the Young Marquis. If he knew, he'd surely exclaim in shock, "Male protagonist, you've changed!"

For a hair ribbon, for a person—how could someone as upright as Wen Yu act this way?

While these thoughts raced, the Young Marquis had already been isolated outside the battlefield. He couldn't help but prick up his ears, listening to the sounds. He vaguely felt this might be the most spectacular duel of the night. Though his eyes couldn't see it, being able to exchange blows with Wen Yu, the clashing of blades—this was a match between masters.

Just hearing it was enough to set his heart pounding with dread.

The fighting at the epicenter only grew more intense, showing no signs of stopping.

Luo Qianyu sighed inwardly, so exasperated he could have rolled his eyes to the back of his head!

What was going on tonight? Everyone wanted to fight—was there no end to it, for God's sake?! One moment it was swords clashing and blades flashing, the next people were flying around, yet he was the one who couldn’t move a muscle. All he could do was watch as the city gate caught fire, time and again becoming the innocent bystander caught in the crossfire.

Luo Qianyu couldn’t take it anymore. His frustration nearly overpowered the drug’s effects. Trembling, he fumbled around, picked up whatever he could find, and flung a small stone toward the source of the commotion where the two were fighting. “If you keep fighting, both of you can get lost!”

The Young Marquis sighed, never imagining he’d have sunk so low—having to mediate a fight. With no other choice, he explained helplessly, “Wen Yu, he is someone I trust.”

“Don’t hold it against him. He’s going to take me home.”

Wen Yu’s movements paused, his blade grazing the other man’s neck as the Jade Spirit Sword hummed faintly.

Luo Qianyu fell silent for a moment, pursed his lips, and whispered almost inaudibly, “Thank you for saving me today.”

This repaid Wen Yu’s debt from the Mysterious Guest’s earlier actions.

Upon hearing this, Luo Shifu’s expression remained unchanged, but he executed one final, elegant move before stopping and walking over to Luo Qianyu’s side.

These words, carrying a hint of dismissal, stirred mixed feelings in everyone present. As soon as Luo Qianyu finished speaking, he felt as if needles were pricking his back. Though he couldn’t look at Wen Yu, he could tell from the silence that the man had stopped moving, remaining at a distance not too far away, yet not approaching again.

He was watching him.

Only when that figure gripped his sword hilt, turned, and disappeared from view did Luo Qianyu feel the weight in his chest lighten a little, allowing him to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Luo Shifu bent down, helped his elder brother up, and lifted the Young Marquis’s face covering, finally restoring clear vision. They were indeed by the shore.

“Brother.”

Luo Qianyu was now dressed in red, his hair studded with beads of water, completely drenched. Wen Yu’s outer robe was draped over him, but his shoes and silk socks were nowhere to be found. His feet were stained with mud, and even without the effects of the incense, he looked a mess.

“Now you decide to show up?” Luo Qianyu’s voice was muffled with suppressed anger and a hint of a nasal tone. Mustering all his strength, he kicked Luo Shifu’s knee. “Done talking? Done giving me the cold shoulder? Why not wait until I’ve turned into a cold corpse before coming?”

Luo Shifu was taken aback.

Seeming to detect the unspoken grievance in these words, his heart began to pound fiercely. He bent down and wrapped him in a hug.

But the Young Marquis pushed him away slightly. “Get off. Don’t touch me.”

The heart-stopping night had finally come to an end, and the tension finally drained away. Seeing Luo Shifu, Luo Qianyu couldn’t help but recall how, back at Hanshan Temple, Wen Yu had also inhaled the incense—even longer than he had—yet showed no symptoms like a nosebleed, and his state of unconsciousness was entirely different.

What was the deal?

Since Luo Shifu had noticed something amiss and pursued him here, it was likely he had also inhaled traces of the incense. So why was he completely unaffected, showing no symptoms at all?

As if reading the Young Marquis’s thoughts, Luo Shifu spoke up. “Brother, you’ve been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?”

“Mm.” Luo Shifu took out a porcelain vial from his robe, removed the wooden stopper, poured out a pill, and placed it in the Young Marquis’s mouth. Softly, he explained, “The Abbot of Hanshan Temple interfered. Both halls were tampered with. One alone would have been fine, but once two different types of incense are inhaled, their effects counteract each other and become toxic.”

“Once poisoned, even the Imperial Fragrant Pill cannot cure it.”

No wonder. That day at the hot spring, he had soaked for a long time before succumbing to the incense, and even after succumbing, he hadn’t been completely immobilized—he still had enough strength to chase the Thief. This time, even though he had quickly discarded the source, the incense’s effects were terrifyingly strong. Who would have thought the trick behind it was like this?

Luo Qianyu’s throat tightened, and he suddenly asked, “What about Chun Sheng?”

“No need to worry.” Luo Shifu wrapped an arm around his shoulder and offered him a sip of water. “Knowing you’d be concerned, I’ve already given him the antidote. He’s back at the manor now.”

Luo Qianyu let out a sigh of relief, the heavy stone in his heart finally settling completely.

At the same time, he couldn't help but think. Thankfully, it was him who had been poisoned. If it had been the male protagonist, surrounded by wolves, going through a series of ordeals, it would have been even harder to escape unscathed.

Luo Qianyu tried to stand up but found that although the effects of the incense were fading, his legs were still weak. In this state, forget about making it all the way back to the Marquis’s manor—he’d probably start trembling and his knees would buckle after just a few steps.

Luo Shifu, however, noticed the Young Marquis’s awkwardness. His expression unchanged, he didn’t ask if his brother’s legs were too weak to walk. Instead, he said softly, “I’ll carry you back.”

But Luo Qianyu didn’t move, pursing his lips. “I don’t want to be carried again.”

“Then… I’ll carry you on my back?”

“…Mm.” Luo Qianyu silently averted his gaze. “If you know, then hurry up.”

The Young Marquis was steadily carried on his brother’s back, heading toward home. He couldn’t help but look back at the grand, bustling painted boats in the distance, their lights like scattered stars, merging into a hazy, shimmering expanse.

Peaceful and distant.

Had he not experienced it all firsthand, it would have been hard to imagine that such turmoil had originated from those very boats. And this was merely an inconspicuous corner of the bustling capital, a fleeting page in that book, one not even worth wasting ink on.

The Young Marquis remained silent for a long while before suddenly speaking up softly. “Luo Shifu.”

“Mm?”

“I want to find a Personal Guard.”

The Young Marquis lowered his gaze, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck as he whispered, “He doesn’t need to be a peerless master or possess unparalleled martial arts… He just needs to be loyal, to stay by my side constantly, someone I can trust completely, who makes me feel secure and grounded.”

“Or perhaps, he’s also alone, with no one to rely on, forced by fate onto a path of no return, now trapped in hardship and in need of someone to lend a hand.”

“If he stays by my side, he’ll at least have a place of shelter, an extra layer of support, and suffer fewer hardships… Even if it’s just a temporary respite.”

“Maybe occasionally, in his spare time, he could teach me some skills.”

Luo Qianyu’s voice was right by his ear, his unclear emotions carefully concealed, each word spoken clearly. “So that a dangerous night like tonight never repeats itself. So that even if one day I leave the imperial city and travel to a foreign land, I can stand on my own, becoming someone truly capable of holding my ground and supporting a world of my own.”

Luo Shifu listened quietly, his lips pressed tightly together, as if something was on the verge of being spoken, ready to burst forth.

But before he could say it, he heard Luo Qianyu part his lips softly and murmur in a low voice:

“What do you think of that person from earlier?”