Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Luo Qianyu’s voice softened.

“…I missed you.” His voice grew even softer still, yet the arms around his neck tightened. The young man’s voice brushed against his ear—warm breath grazing his earlobe as he whispered, “Alright? Don’t go any further… they really will arrest you.”

A brief pause followed. Just as the Young Marquis began to suspect his personal guard would not respond, Wen Yu’s voice sounded near his ear.

“Understood.”

Footsteps shifted direction—the guard appeared to turn back. The palace servants’ voices receded, fading entirely as they retreated toward the rear window through which they’d entered.

The Young Marquis fell silent.

The young man in his arms remained utterly still, eyelashes lowered beneath the white silk, lost in thought. Only occasional strands of hair, lifted by the breeze, brushed Wen Yu’s neck. Wen Yu glanced sideways at him and drew him a little closer.

The two entered the inner chamber. The little wolf, however, remained stuck beneath the window. It sat down on the spot and gazed up at the windowsill.

It circled left and right several times, whining anxiously. Soon, a slender hand reached down and lifted it inside.

The window closed once more.

Because the white silk impeded his movement, he had no choice but to let Wen Yu change his medicine. The ointment’s texture felt oddly familiar—slick, greasy, warming gently once evenly applied.

“What is this…?” Luo Qianyu grew alert, tilting his head, hesitating: “The one you’re using—it couldn’t be the ointment I gave you before, could it?”

Wen Yu confirmed it was.

“You carry it with you?”

“Naturally, I carry anything gifted by the Young Master,” Wen Yu replied. “What’s wrong?”

The Young Marquis didn’t answer. Fortunately, his eyes were covered—his expression remained hidden. He silently turned his head aside, lowering his gaze. “…Nothing.”

The rest remained unspoken—not because it wasn’t important, but because the jade ointment had originally been intended for Lou Xian. At least he’d returned it to its rightful owner.

According to the original novel’s lore, this jade ointment not only relieved pain and reduced bruising but also served as a preparatory agent—dual-purpose, truly rare and precious.

It was meant for you from the start… If you use too much now, what will you do later?

Recalling the plot, Luo Qianyu’s heart constricted.

His capping ceremony was imminent.

As expected, the Emperor granted special permission for it to be held within the palace. A highly esteemed principal guest had been invited to preside. Yet the assistant was customarily a close personal attendant—so the original protagonist had unhesitatingly chosen the male lead, Wen Yu.

The inevitable had finally arrived. The Young Marquis sighed inwardly. After a moment’s hesitation, he finally spoke, voice faint: “My capping ceremony is in a few days. His Majesty has graciously permitted it to take place in the palace. I’ve requested a favor—I hope you’ll serve as my assistant. Would you be willing to come to the palace that day?”

Wen Yu’s movements paused. “Does the Young Master wish me to accompany him?”

The Young Marquis murmured a soft “Mm,” though his gaze involuntarily drifted elsewhere—to an empty corner. “That day, I’ll certainly have to drink heavily. My alcohol tolerance is poor, and I don’t want to be alone. I’m asking you to come and help cover for me a bit.”

This was clearly overtime work—uncovered by their original contract. Even if Wen Yu refused, there would be nothing to do but accept it. Yet he heard Wen Yu reply without hesitation: “Alright.”

The next day, when the attendant opened the door to the Eastern Palace bedchamber, only the Young Marquis remained in bed—alongside the little wolf, sleeping soundly beside him.

.

At noon, a palace servant delivered a letter from Su He of the Ministry of Rites’ Ceremonial Department.

The Young Marquis sat up abruptly and took the letter. Indeed, it felt thick—more than a single sheet. It was the latest installment of the storybook!

Su He was truly prolific.

Those who followed his updates were truly blessed.

Unfortunately, his white silk bandage hadn’t yet been removed—and even if it had, his vision remained blurry. The matter was urgent, yet he couldn’t ask a palace servant to read it aloud. So he waited, tense and restless, for several days—until the imperial physician finally granted permission. That very night, Luo Qianyu secretly read it beneath the covers.

Sure enough, the most pivotal plot point for the Young Marquis in the original novel had arrived.

He skimmed it quickly. Its gist was—

「On the day of the capping ceremony, as the principal guest presented the ceremonial wine, the Young Marquis seized the opportunity to express gratitude—and had Wen Yu step forward to receive the reward alongside him, citing his protection of his master. In truth, he had already concealed the drug beforehand, watching from the corner of his eye as Wen Yu drank from the cup.

Amidst the clamor of the banquet, no one noticed. After Wen Yu drank it, during the subsequent bowing and thanksgiving rites, he gradually weakened. The Young Marquis, inwardly elated, immediately requested to depart—citing the ceremony’s conclusion and the need to return to the manor to worship ancestors—then whisked the intoxicated, unwell Wen Yu away by carriage.

Inside the carriage, gazing upon the beautiful man rendered pliant by intoxication, the Young Marquis’s thoughts wandered—and he began contemplating taking liberties.

Who knew—just then, the carriage was suddenly halted by imperial guards.」

…

Just as he read intently, Yunshan burrowed under his covers.

The little wolf poked its head in, stared blankly for a moment, and—seeing the young man ignore it—licked his cheek.

Luo Qianyu pushed the wolf’s head away. Distracted, he paid no mind to his earlier rule: “No licking people—otherwise, no bed.” The young man lay flat on his back, casually pulling the little wolf atop him, and groaned miserably into the bedding: “What should I do, Yunshan?—I’m going to drug the male lead.”

“Wen Yu was someone I snatched away in the first place. Back then, he’d rather die than submit. I finally managed to get him to sign the indenture contract. Now the Young Marquis isn’t satisfied with a mere superior-subordinate relationship—he covets the other’s body, harboring improper designs… Why is the plot unfolding so fast?”

“If he pursued him properly, that would be one thing—but resorting to such underhanded methods… With Wen Yu’s fiery temper, how could he possibly let it go?”

“I’m not actually going to get my legs broken by Lin Jingyan, am I…”

The little wolf couldn’t understand his words. Its belly pressed against its master’s face; its four paws sprawled out, motionless. Instead, it laid its head down and stretched lazily.

Petting the little wolf was deeply soothing. Though his heart remained clouded with worry, Luo Qianyu couldn’t resist quietly savoring the comfort of cuddling something soft and fluffy. He scratched the wolf’s ears, then silently withdrew the small medicine box from within his robes.

One pill had been lost earlier—two remained.

The young man lifted his gaze, staring at the tiny pill in the candlelight, silent for a long moment—before clenching it tightly in his palm.

The day of the capping ceremony.

.

At first light, he rose early in the Eastern Palace. Palace servants bustled about, busy with preparations. The young man got up reluctantly, allowing the attendant to adjust the collar of his initial ceremonial robe before the mirror.

Counting the days, it had been over half a month since he last saw Wen Yu.

Now that the white silk had long been removed, he no longer feared Wen Yu taking advantage. So, upon hearing his personal guard had arrived, this time he directly chased the man out of the inner chamber—prohibiting him from assisting with dressing and ordering him to wait outside in the sun, forbidding him from stepping across the threshold.

After nibbling some light snacks to stave off hunger, by the time the sun slanted westward, Luo Qianyu headed toward Wenhua Hall. In the corridor, he encountered court officials—all cupping their hands in congratulations. As customary, receiving congratulations on this day meant drinking wine.

Palace servants followed closely behind, bearing trays. Amidst the clinking of cups, the young man drank several rounds—leaving a faint flush blooming behind his ears.

After mingling briefly, he seized an opportunity to sidle up to Wen Yu, voice hushed as he cleared his throat: “That Lord Zhang just now—did you see him? A couple of days ago, his wife caught him keeping singing girls, causing a huge uproar. He got a thorough beating—his eye corner bruised and swollen, even makeup couldn’t conceal it.”

The corner of Wen Yu’s mouth twitched. “I saw.”

The young man paused, then added indignantly: “And that Lord Li! Just now, he put on a show of toasting me respectfully—but earlier, behind my back, he called me a dissolute wastrel, claimed I forcibly dragged you into my manor, even dragged my father into it! Later, I heard he got drunk and couldn’t keep his mouth shut—actually dared to discuss His Majesty’s delay in establishing a harem. His Majesty punished him with fifty strokes of the heavy rod. He was bedridden for two months. I heard he only recently managed to get out of bed. Look how he limps when he walks.”

Wen Yu had been listening quietly, his gaze fixed on the young man’s slightly swaying figure. Seeing him stumble, Wen Yu reached out a long arm and caught him by the waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric as he said softly, “Don’t drink too much.”

Luo Qianyu, who had been speaking animatedly, suddenly faltered.

“I watered down the wine a bit,” Wen Yu said, noticing the confusion in his eyes. His voice remained as cool and detached as ever, yet carried a hint of gentleness. “But drink too much, and you’ll still get drunk.”

“…”

The Young Marquis was stunned.

Only then did it dawn on him—no wonder he felt his alcohol tolerance had shot up today, drinking so much without getting drunk. He had thought his capacity had grown, but it turned out he’d been drinking watered-down wine?

As dusk fell and the towering beams of Wenhua Hall rose overhead, Luo Qianyu stood in the center of the hall. Seeing the dragon throne empty, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

The emperor hadn’t come, which at least relieved him of an invisible pressure.

Earlier, a palace attendant had relayed a message: His Majesty had found an extremely distinguished principal guest for him, responsible for granting his courtesy name and offering admonitions during the capping ceremony—the most crucial role in the entire rite. But who exactly was this important figure? After wondering for a while, his gaze swept over the solemn figures standing below the steps, yet he couldn’t discern any clues.

However, when the legendary, highly respected principal guest finally appeared, the Young Marquis’s pupils shrank, and he could no longer remain calm.

It was actually Que Xilan.

Why was that older, beautiful gong here!?

…

Everything was in chaos.

Utterly chaotic.

As the heir to a marquisate, how could it be that the Seventeenth Imperial Uncle was personally presiding over his capping ceremony?

Thinking it over, his father and Prince Yanhuai were close friends to begin with. If the emperor had made the request, and considering this young imperial uncle was indeed highly respected and virtuous, the role of principal guest was fitting—there was no reason to refuse.

But last time, when this imperial uncle was drinking with the old marquis at the marquisate, the imperial examination results had just been announced. In the ensuing chaos, the man seemed to have seen his medicine box roll out, landing right at his feet.

He didn’t know if the other would recognize what it was.

Compared to facing the emperor, this unpredictable Seventeenth Imperial Uncle made him feel under even more pressure.

Just then, the master of ceremonies announced the start of the rite. Luo Qianyu walked to the mat in the center of the hall and stood upright. The candlelight reflected off his initial ceremonial robe, making the young man’s figure appear even more handsome and poised.

When it was time to add the black cloth cap, Wen Yu, as the assistant, stepped forward and presented the cap before the principal guest’s table. Luo Qianyu bowed, feeling the coarse cloth headpiece settle lightly on his hair. The ties were fastened behind his ears, carrying the weight of ancient adornments. The principal guest’s steady voice rang out, reciting blessings and exhorting him to exercise self-restraint and uphold propriety from then on.

Luo Qianyu’s throat tightened slightly. As the leather cap was added, Wen Yu adjusted the tassels with extremely gentle movements. When his fingertips brushed against the tip of Luo Qianyu’s ear, it sent a faint, tingling itch.

Finally came the addition of the ceremonial cap. Once the crown was properly secured, the assistant slowly retreated to his position.

Taking advantage of the moment to offer wine and thank the principal guest, Luo Qianyu quietly slipped to a corner.

As he lowered his head, the Young Marquis couldn’t help stealing a glance at the wine cup.

During the ceremony, he had been clutching the pill in his hand, his palm already damp with sweat.

When the moment arrived, the young man took a deep breath, his fingertips trembling as he swiftly flicked the pill into the wine prepared for Wen Yu. The pill dissolved upon contact with the liquid, not even causing a ripple. The wine remained clear and transparent, showing no sign of anything amiss.

The medicine was indeed as the gentleman who gave it had said—

It dissolved instantly in water, colorless and odorless.

After the ceremony concluded, the Young Marquis steadied himself and turned to hand the wine cup to Wen Yu. But as his slender fingertips touched Wen Yu’s hand, they trembled slightly.

Wen Yu was looking at him, as if silently asking, “What’s wrong?”

The young man’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he suddenly stopped.

…

And then?

He had read the stories written by Su He and, in his previous life, the original novel. The plot development was quite consistent: Wen Yu would be drugged with an aphrodisiac, unable to hold on during the banquet, and would be taken back to the marquisate by him. But unexpectedly, their carriage would be intercepted along the way.

And he knew it would be the emperor’s men.

And then?

Luo Qianyu lowered his gaze, silently clenching his fist.

He knew better than anyone what would happen next, and the root cause of it all was this cup of tainted wine.

And he was the one who would hand this cup of wine to the protagonist shou.

…

No.

He was a book transmigrator, an outsider observing from the sidelines. He could remain detached and desireless, following the book’s requirements to complete the plot. He could also abandon all of this, watch coldly from afar, or even fake his death and escape at the critical moment, completely extricating himself. But no matter what…

He couldn’t be the one to push Wen Yu into the abyss.

The Young Marquis pressed his lips together tightly, then suddenly let out a soft laugh.

To hell with irresistible forces.

I’m not doing it.

The Young Marquis averted his gaze, his hand holding the wine cup lowering as if to let it drop and spill. But suddenly, a hand grasped his wrist.

He instinctively looked up.

It was Que Xilan.