Chapter 127 The Words Resemble the Person

Chapter 127: Handwriting Reveals the Person

Xiao Yan held Liu Qingci and pecked his damp lips.

"Husband is me, and I am your husband."

Xiao Yan stated the obvious, but Liu Qingci didn't mind.

He pursed his lips and smiled, "Alright, husband."

When he said this, a hint of mischief in his voice, soft and gentle, as if he had a piece of candy in his mouth that wouldn't melt.

Xiao Yan looked down at him, his eyes darkening, and bent down to kiss him again.

A hand pressed against his chest.

Xiao Yan stopped in his tracks.

He looked down at that hand, then traced the hand back to its owner.

Liu Qingci was looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"What is it?" Xiao Yan asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Liu Qingci blinked, "You should go clear the dishes."

Xiao Yan was taken aback and instinctively glanced at the small table by the bed.

On it was a tray with used bowls and chopsticks.

He turned back to look at Liu Qingci.

"I'll take them later," he said, leaning in again.

Liu Qingci's hand pressed against his chest again.

This time he pressed harder.

"No," Liu Qingci said, his tone light but carrying a hint of finality. "Go now."

"Are you kicking me out?" Xiao Yan raised an eyebrow.

Liu Qingci shook his head, "I'm not kicking you out."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm tired," Liu Qingci's eyelashes drooped, his voice soft. "I want to rest for a while."

The playful mood in Xiao Yan's heart instantly vanished, leaving only concern.

"Alright." He laid him down on the bed and tucked in the blanket. "You sleep a bit more."

Xiao Yan carried the tray out of the room and gently closed the door behind him.

The hot spring retreat was not large, but it was tastefully decorated.

Xiao Yan walked along a corridor lined with bamboo plants. Bamboo leaves rustled softly in the morning breeze.

In the distance came the gurgle of water, from the stream diverted from the mountain, flowing through bamboo pipes into the retreat and into the hot spring.

The air smelled faintly of sulfur, mixed with the fresh scent of bamboo leaves, unexpectedly pleasant.

As Xiao Yan walked, his pace suddenly slowed.

"Host, I just came out of a pixelated state."

"The moment I came out, I realized almost 30 hours had passed! Ahhh!!!"

Xiao K's frantic voice sounded in his mind.

Xiao Yan was rarely embarrassed. "...Is there something urgent?"

Xiao K freaked out: "Of course! Host, you haven't forgotten why we came back, have you?!"

Xiao K was exasperated with this host who had been indulging in romantic bliss and was unwilling to leave since coming back.

It said: "The teleportation function is not something you get casually. This time I requested it from the main system and only got three chances."

Xiao Yan felt even guiltier the moment he remembered what one of those chances was used for.

Xiao K went on, "Even though the first was wasted, the other two are crucial!!!"

Xiao Yan stopped walking and his expression turned serious.

He thought for a moment. "For the remaining two chances, we go to the Imperial Palace?"

"Exactly!"

Xiao K reasoned: "Given the current situation, if we want to defeat Xiao Jing, our only chance lies with the Emperor, who is in a coma. We've got to save him (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و"

Xiao Yan asked: "He's... been poisoned by Xiao Jing?"

Xiao K: "Right, but don't worry, host—no poison in this world can beat me!"

Xiao Yan felt relieved for no reason.

"But I still need to remind you, host, during your time at the hot spring retreat, Xiao Jing has already performed an exorcism at Prince Yu's mansion and ordered a citywide manhunt for you... and anyone who looks like you."

Xiao Yan sneered: "Does he think I'm a man or a ghost?"

Xiao K huffed: "It's the unknown that scares people the most~"

Liu Qingci slept till evening.

When he woke up, it was already dark out.

In the room, a warm yellow candle was lit, soft and not harsh, casting a hazy glow.

Liu Qingci blinked and slowly sat up.

Xiao Yan wasn't in the room.

He sat there in a daze for a bit, then put on his robe and got out of bed.

On the table by the bed, a piece of paper was sitting out in plain sight.

Liu Qingci picked it up and read.

[Don't wander off when you wake up. You can walk around the backyard of the retreat. I'll be back soon.]

This was Xiao Yan's handwriting.

Liu Qingci held the note and looked at it for a long time.

Truth be told, he didn't recognize Xiao Yan's handwriting—he'd never seen it before.

He had only seen the handwriting that Xiao Yan had deliberately forged: messy, chaotic, and crooked.

But the note in his hands now was different. Xiao Yan had made no attempt to alter or conceal his natural style.

The characters were clean and sharp, horizontal strokes straight, vertical strokes true, with a subtle force at the turns, as if a blade had gouged them into the paper.

As Liu Qingci studied the strokes, he suddenly thought of Xiao Yan himself.

The handwriting revealed the man.

Xiao Yan's handwriting was exactly as it should be.

Liu Qingci carefully folded the note and put it away before pushing open the door and stepping out into the corridor.

The night breeze drifted in. A few scattered stars hung in the sky, and moonlight spilled across the courtyard, stretching the bamboo shadows into long, slender shapes.

Liu Qingci took a few steps along the covered walkway when he suddenly heard sounds from the next room.

Disjointed voices, fragmented, impossible to understand.

He walked over and stood at the door.

The door was slightly ajar, casting a sliver of candlelight.

Liu Qingci stood there, his hand just touching the door panel, when the slightly ajar door was pulled open from inside.

Xiao Yan stood in the doorway, the candlelight behind him casting a warm golden glow over his silhouette.

He looked at Liu Qingci, a faint smile in his eyes.

"Awake?"

Liu Qingci nodded.

Xiao Yan reached out, grasped his wrist, and pulled him inside.

The candlelight in this room was far brighter than in Liu Qingci's room—several lamps were burning at the same time, illuminating every corner clearly.

Liu Qingci's gaze passed over Xiao Yan's shoulder and landed on the floor.

A person was lying there.

An old man with graying hair and beard, dressed in a faded blue robe, sat on the ground holding his head, a bewildered expression on his face.

His eyes were wide, his pupils filled with terror, as if he had just woken from a nightmare, still unable to distinguish dream from reality.

Liu Qingci recognized him—a senior imperial physician from the palace.

Liu Qingci turned his gaze, and his gaze fell on the bed a short distance away.

Someone was lying on the bed.

The person was dressed in a bright yellow inner garment, his chest rising and falling slightly, his breathing so shallow it was barely perceptible.

Liu Qingci's eyes widened sharply.

This person was even more familiar to him—the Emperor, unconscious, who had been hidden away in the palace by Xiao Jing!