Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Lin Jingyan actually had the gall to use that incident to humiliate him! He had thought back then that the damned Chancellor hadn't reported the assassination attempt on the pleasure boat to the Emperor, perhaps to preserve some mutual dignity. But now it seemed Lin Jingyan had simply kept this little tidbit to trot it out and humiliate him whenever he felt like it.

But who could have such a twisted sense of humor?

The Young Marquis tamped down his fury, telling himself it wasn't worth it. Lin Jingyan saw him as competition for Wen Yu's affections, but only because Wen Yu was bound by a contract he had written, with a full three-year term. Lin Jingyan currently had no way to deal with it, so he was taking his frustrations out on him.

But he had no designs on Wen Yu, so why should he get all worked up and dive into this mess?

"Is the Chancellor pining for that courtesan?" Luo Qianyu forcefully suppressed the fire in his heart and sneered, "...Then by all means, keep dreaming, Your Excellency. Don't strain that brilliant mind of yours. I'll be taking my leave."

Luo Qianyu's neck and back were ramrod straight. Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard the man behind him suddenly speak up, calling out:

"Qianqian."

Luo Qianyu's footsteps halted.

The name hit him like a thunderclap, sending a jolt through the young noble's entire body. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He couldn't help but turn his head, shocked and furious, "...What did you call me?"

It was well known that the Young Marquis had a proud and prickly disposition. Even before coming of age, he disliked others calling him by his childhood name, preferring his courtesy name instead. Even the household staff knew it was forbidden. Nowadays, the only one he tacitly allowed to call him that was his mother, Lady Sun.

He was glad for the peace it brought, accustomed to no one calling him by that intimate childhood name. But Lin Jingyan was his sworn enemy, who had once nearly caused his death. They were like oil and water. How dare he?

"Today is your birthday." Lin Jingyan studied the youth for a brief moment. "Since you're not celebrating at the manor, is there anything you want as a gift?"

...

Asking him about a gift?

Completely unable to fathom what scheme this villain was plotting, the Young Marquis stood still, gritted his teeth. He suddenly understood why the original Luo Qianyu felt such an impulse to provoke this man every time they met. Since it was hard to suppress, he simply stopped restraining himself: "Didn't Your Excellency already gift me a boat? Wasn't that a generous enough present?"

Lin Jingyan poured a cup of wine, using his right hand. Not a hint of emotion showed on his face. He merely said, "Qianqian doesn't like it?"

Luo Qianyu was furious. He came to a dead stop without meaning to. Being treated as a junior whose childhood name could be called so casually meant the other party likely didn't take him seriously at all, perhaps not even viewing him as a rival. It was an even greater slap in the face.

If he was being looked down on, why hold back? He angrily retorted, "I don't like it! So what if I wore a skirt? You catching me was just my lousy luck. But you weren't the only one who saw me like that. What's there for you to be so damn pleased about?"

The man faltered for a split second, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Luo Qianyu instinctively touched his sleeve, only then remembering this was the original host's habit of reaching for a folding fan for self-defense. He froze, hand in mid-air, and snarled, "Chancellor, that's the beginning and end of our connection. Our paths are different. We're strangers. I don't know you. What reason do you have to give me gifts for no reason? This Young Master not only dislikes that piece-of-junk boat, but he also dislikes you calling me Qianqian! Who said you could call me that?"

"Strangers?" Lin Jingyan gave a low, soft chuckle and said, "It seems Qianqian only remembers things from after growing up."

The Young Marquis grew suspicious. He was still turning this over in his mind when, unexpectedly, Lin Jingyan remembered the matter of his birthday gift. "Since you don't like the boat, do you already have something else in mind?"

...This was clearly a trap. A trap to make him admit to having designs on Wen Yu.

Not only did he not change the form of address, but he was also forcing him to say what he liked. He was pushing him into a corner.

The Young Marquis took a steadying breath. Thinking of something, he suddenly said, "This junior does indeed have something he desires. However, it is on Your Excellency's person. Would Your Excellency allow me to take it?"

Hearing this, Lin Jingyan's hand holding the cup paused slightly. Then he gently placed the cup back on the table. The sound was extremely soft, much like the man himself, making it difficult to glimpse any trace of his true feelings. He said, "Oh? What does Qianqian want?"

The Young Marquis, however, didn't fall for the trap. He played the brat, banking on his youth: "Why does Your Excellency ask so many questions? Since you promised to give this junior a gift, and didn't specify what it was, even if I asked for the head off your shoulders, I could have it. Are you regretting it now?"

Lin Jingyan's face was a mask of calm. To his surprise, he let out a deep chuckle, his long eyelashes veiling the ripples in his eyes. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the rim of the cup. After a long while, he finally said, "If Qianqian wants it, this Chancellor is willing to part with it. However, I wonder... what does Qianqian intend to trade for it?"

The Young Marquis's heartstrings tightened abruptly, but his face remained composed as ever.

*I knew the old man couldn't hold back!* He was about to bring up Wen Yu! Although neither side could do anything at the moment, when the time came to face the Emperor and bring up the assassination attempt on the pleasure boat again, he could drag this man down with him.

So, masking his excitement, he lifted a defiant brow: "What do you want?"

He braced himself for Lin Jingyan to show his true colors and make some outrageous demand. Even if it wasn't about Wen Yu, it would surely be some excessively humiliating request. Unexpectedly, the man raised his right hand and gently pushed the wine cup on the table forward. The wine sloshed gently in the cup. "Since it's your birthday, I haven't yet offered my birthday wishes. Let this cup of wine serve as a gift, a simple token of my wishes for you. Qianqian, please drink this cup of celebratory wine."

"..."

Luo Qianyu was stunned.

A completely unexpected reply.

Suspicious, but curious, he pursed his lips: "...Is it poisoned?"

Hearing this, Lin Jingyan smiled, a low laugh. This smile seemed genuine, not his usual polite mask. He picked up the wine cup, his slender fingers holding it. His thin lips touched the rim, and he took a small sip.

The Young Marquis thought to himself, *This scoundrel wouldn't have poisoned his lips, would he?*... Meanwhile, he took the cup. It was just a cup of wine, after all. He wanted to clarify the truth about his horse being startled that night at the Donglang Bridge night market even more. So he downed it in one gulp.

The next moment, the pungent wine poured down his throat like a scalding tongue of fire. Caught off guard, the young noble choked and coughed. The cup was placed back on the table. Not long after, even the rims of his eyes turned slightly red.

He cursed inwardly, *Wasn't this Young Marquis supposed to be an old hand in the world of pleasure? Choking on a single cup of wine, how embarrassing! That damned Lin didn't even change expression after drinking it. Are you even capable?*

"In a little while, Qianqian should also have his coming-of-age ceremony." Lin Jingyan looked at the youth's reddened eye corners from coughing. His hand, with distinct knuckles, slowly lifted and placed the empty cup upside down on the table. The clear sound broke the silence. He said, "Whether this Chancellor is present or not at that time, let this cup of wine serve as the ceremonial wine. May you receive Heaven's blessings, enjoy longevity, and never forget. That will also complete the rite."

Luo Qianyu had no time to listen carefully. He turned his head, tears welling in his eyes from coughing. The sides of his ears and the back of his neck flushed red. Taking advantage of the alcohol not having fully hit him yet, he only asked, "Is that enough?"

Lin Jingyan leaned back, spreading his shoulders, adopting a posture of allowing himself to be taken.

Instead, it was the Young Marquis who hesitated. He bit his lower lip slightly. Emboldened by the warmth spreading through his limbs from the alcohol and feeling braver than usual, he walked around the table and unceremoniously sat on the desk, facing the man. The next moment, he reached out and touched Lin Jingyan's shoulder.

Slowly moving downward from the shoulder, inch by inch, Lin Jingyan's expression finally changed. His gaze fell on that hand, but his voice remained calm and gentle: "What is Qianqian looking for?"

Luo Qianyu's Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he searched his memory hard. In the original book, the Chancellor carried concealed weapons on his person, capable of killing someone with a mere lift of the hand—both for self-defense and as a tool of the King of Hell to claim lives. Many unfortunate souls in the original book met their end this way, without even having time to beg for mercy.

Others might not know, but he, with his god's perspective, naturally knew. Such concealed weapons were mostly hidden in the sleeves. Lin Jingyan had lost a hand, so theoretically, it should be easier to find.

Luo Qianyu didn't answer, only pausing his movements slightly. The next moment, he reached into his sleeve. His soft, fair fingertips brushed against the skin, following the veins and tendons, slowly moving downward.

Lin Jingyan's breathing grew slightly heavier. He looked up at him, slowly curling the corner of his mouth, his voice hoarse and low: "Qianqian seems to know quite a lot about me."

Luo Qianyu still ignored him. Finally, when he touched the object, his eyes lit up. One hand tangled with the arm, loosening the strap, while the other hand smoothly pulled out the object—

It was indeed a hand crossbow.

This was the legendary concealed weapon of Lin Jingyan.

The Young Marquis pulled out a short bolt. His gaze fell upon it, not only clearly seeing the iron arrowhead but also weighing the heavy wood and the boat character symbol carved on it.

It was identical to the one that had shot into his horse's hindquarters back then.

The Young Marquis's heart burned with anger, now completely confirmed. He placed the short bolt back into the bolt groove.

"Chancellor, how do you use this hand crossbow?" Luo Qianyu picked up the crossbow, but its tip was aimed at Lin Jingyan's head.

Coincidentally, at that moment, someone knocked on the door of the Chenyuan Pavilion and entered. The person was dressed as a guard. As soon as he entered, he saw the young master aiming a crossbow at the Chancellor. He instantly drew a sharp breath: "Chancellor—"

His hand had already moved toward the sword at his waist.

Lin Jingyan merely lifted his gaze calmly, saying nothing. The moment their eyes met, the guard's voice died in his throat. He quietly released his grip and stepped back to stand at attention.

Yet his eyes remained fixed on them, a cold sweat beading on his brow.

“Did Qianqian find the latch on the back of the mechanism?” Lin Jingyan’s expression remained unchanged as he gazed into his eyes, his voice low and steady. “Press it, and the short arrow will shoot out.”

Luo Qianyu’s lashes trembled slightly. His index finger found the latch the man mentioned. He pursed his lips, still perched on the edge of Lin Jingyan’s desk, his eyes bright, his boots dangling just above the floor, swinging gently. “Sir, I have a question that piques my curiosity.”

The broader situation was clear: the Da Xi Dynasty was not as peaceful as it seemed—undercurrents of turmoil ran deep. Although efforts were made to avoid the factional strife of previous courts, the emperor was still young, and his mother had been a courtesan. Rumors swirled among the common folk, mocking his *lowly bloodline*. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Lin Jingyan held immense power, standing at the pinnacle of the court, with disciples and former subordinates spread across the realm. By the middle and later stages of the novel, the center of political intrigue revolved mainly around these two forces.

Luo Qianyu, who knew the original plot in advance, was naturally aware of Lin Jingyan’s hidden, never-voiced ambitions.

Although Lin Jingyan’s origins were worthy of sympathy, his noble aspirations and patriotic fervor only lasted until the Lin family was tragically slaughtered due to factional strife. Now, Lin Jingyan stood alone at the peak of the court, long since a far cry from the scholarly top graduate who once wielded his brush with lofty ideals, no longer possessing the integrity of his former self.

So Luo Qianyu was curious.

He wondered about Lin Jingyan’s motivations in the series of power struggles later on—was it power, family, the nation, or beauty? What private desires lay hidden within? And even… what place did Wen Yu hold in his heart?

What exactly did Lin Jingyan, this notorious main villain whose true intentions remained elusive to the world, truly want?

This was something many readers never quite unraveled—it was said that discussion threads on the topic had stacked up over a hundred pages.

The Young Marquis naturally couldn’t ask such a question outright. Otherwise, he’d be seen even more as a child. He spoke softly, “The ancients once said, ‘Power is like a blade—wielded with righteousness, it can cut away the flaws of the realm; selfish desire is like poison—once indulged, it will surely corrode the roots of society.’”

“What does the Prime Minister think?” Luo Qianyu lowered his gaze, still holding the crossbow, and asked quietly, “With both power and selfish desires, I wonder what lies deep in your heart: to use power to uphold the state, or to indulge selfish desires… and plunge the world into a storm of bloodshed?”

As soon as the words fell, he caught a rare glimpse of a stunned expression on Lin Jingyan’s face.

“…”

Even as warmth spread up the back of his neck, fogging his mind, the Young Marquis was also taken aback, because Lin Jingyan’s reaction was greater than he had imagined. Up close, he could see the slight tightening of the man’s dark pupils—something was off.

Until the next moment, when the Young Marquis suddenly came to his senses.

…

He remembered.

The quote about “power and selfish desire” he had just cited wasn’t from any ancient sage at all—it actually came from Lin Jingyan’s own palace examination essay from years ago!

Some time back, on the night Zhao Nian delivered the past top scholars’ manuscripts—sought by the old Marquis to aid his studies—he had only carefully reviewed two sets. One was written by Wen Yu, and the other… was Lin Jingyan’s own handwriting.

He had read it once, and now not only had he recited it, but he had done so so fluently that he momentarily forgot its origin, mistakenly calling it an ancient proverb. How was this any different from unintentionally revealing one’s fandom in front of their idol!?

This was mortifying. The Young Marquis’s face flushed, then paled. Suddenly, he tossed the crossbow aside, jumped down from the table, and turned to leave without a second thought—heedless of whether such behavior was improper.

As the sandalwood door slammed shut, it kicked up a light, brisk gust of wind.

Luo Qianyu did not return to the Moonview Pavilion; those people were likely drunk and stumbling about, not a pretty sight. So he went downstairs, boarded the carriage that had been waiting, and headed straight back to the Imperial Academy.

The journey was inevitably bumpy. Luo Qianyu hugged a hand warmer, his whole body warm and cozy. The alcohol fully kicked in, gradually dulling the earlier embarrassment.

He leaned against the soft couch and dozed off, only to be gently awakened later by a servant.

The servant was about to assist him, but the Young Marquis dismissed him. The academy’s outer dormitories weren’t far from the entrance. Though his steps were light, as if treading on cotton wool, and he had to be careful not to let his legs buckle, he managed to make it back to his quarters.

Entering the main room, he found no one there. The plump bird and Jade Ball were also nowhere in sight. Luo Qianyu thought that the chubby fledgling was probably with Wen Yu, but the young rabbit would be hard to carry around—it must still be somewhere in the room.

The Young Marquis searched around the room but found nothing. Not only did he fail to locate it, but he also bumped his leg against a table corner, producing a creaking sound. He stumbled and fell, furrowing his brows in pain. Clutching the table leg, he shakily pulled himself up.

It was then that he heard the faint sound of running water.

Very soft, coming from the inner chamber.

Luo Qianyu frowned slightly and followed the sound. Just as he stepped into the washroom, before he could lift his gaze, he unexpectedly bumped into a warm body.

The first thing he sensed was a fresh, soapy scent, wafting toward him and lingering at the tip of his nose—vaguely familiar in his daze.

He took a light breath and looked up. Sure enough, it was Wen Yu.

The beauty had just emerged from his bath, a thin inner robe casually draped over his body—clearly put on in haste. His dark hair was unbound, water droplets rolling down the ends, leaving dark stains on the pure white collar. The contours hidden beneath the fabric were faintly visible.

Luo Qianyu’s pupils shook, but he couldn’t focus. They were too close; water droplets from the other’s hair fell onto his neck, scalding him and making his whole body tremble. Instinctively, he shrank back.

In his muddled thoughts, only one idea remained:

Had he drunk so much that he was seeing things?

…

Wen Yu, a protagonist shou—did he really need to be that big!?

Luo Qianyu didn’t want to compare, but he was the established top, the predetermined dominant partner in the original book. No matter how you looked at it, Wen Yu shouldn’t be more… impressively endowed than him.

Wen Yu didn’t seem to notice what he had seen; he only appeared surprised that his master had returned to the Imperial Academy at this hour.

Not only had he returned, but he also carried the scent of rouge and alcohol. As a guard, he had no right to question his master about whether he had returned to the Marquis’s estate to celebrate his birthday. But given the circumstances, where the Young Marquis had been was self-evident.

Wen Yu turned his head slightly. Though he radiated the warmth of a recent bath, the air around him inexplicably grew cold.

The Young Marquis remained oblivious, merely stepping back a few inches. His neck was now damp too, water droplets sliding down to his chest, dampening his collar. Uncomfortable, he frowned and asked, “Wen Yu, don’t you dry off after bathing?”

“Your hair is dripping on me.”

As he spoke, he began to undo his own clothes.