Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Lu Wuyou frowned, watching Fang Zhihe laze around with a hand warmer. He felt disgusted, and thinking of the iron stove suspended under the carriage, he sneered.

Fang Zhihe, noticing his sour expression, sat up a bit. His stomach was upset; he'd thrown up twice on the ride, leaving him limp and weak.

Lu Wuyou watched for a moment, then lifted the carriage curtain and called out, "Ruan Li! Are there any more horses?"

The person outside paused before replying, "Sir, the horses are all loaded with supplies. There are no spares."

Lu Wuyou grunted, let the curtain fall, and scooted toward the carriage door, to put distance between himself and Fang Zhihe.

Fang Zhihe found it funny and didn't take offense. Instead, he leaned over to a small box beside him, took out a box of pastries, and opened it to check on them. He picked one up and offered it, saying softly, "Yuntai, this is your favorite pea cake. I brought it special."

Just the sound of his voice annoyed Lu Wuyou. He stared coldly at Fang Zhihe's outstretched hand—thin, pale—the pea cake a stark bright spot in it.

"Hm? Take a bite, it's really good," Fang Zhihe coaxed, pushing it closer.

Lu Wuyou clicked his tongue in irritation, slapped his hand away, and said flatly, "Who wants your pastry? Who knows if you drugged it."

He still remembered that time before the campaign when Fang Zhihe drugged him. It was anything but a pleasant memory, and it made the guy even more disgusting.

Fang Zhihe watched the pea cake slip from his hand, roll once, and stop by his foot.

He swallowed back the bloody taste rising from his stomach. He pressed his lips together, bent down, picked it up, blew on it, and popped it in his mouth.

Lu Wuyou frowned deeply, raising his voice, "What are you doing? Playing the victim?"

Fang Zhihe chewed the thing in his mouth and shot him a glance. The corners of his eyes were red, giving him a slightly hurt look.

Lu Wuyou was taken aback by his gaze. He paused, then snapped, "Are you delirious from being sick or what?"

Fang Zhihe ignored him, turning away and hugging the box of pea cakes tighter.

Lu Wuyou choked on his own words. "You're ignoring me?"

Fang Zhihe hugged the box tighter.

Lu Wuyou kicked him in anger and cursed, "Then why are you following me?! Why not have that Dr. Yun guy keep you company? Why drag me along?"

The box of pea cakes tipped over from the kick. Fang Zhihe froze, then suddenly looked up at him, his eyes reddening as he pressed his lips together.

Lu Wuyou continued to scold him, "With your sickly appearance, if you die on the road, don't blame me!"

Fang Zhihe's lips trembled. After a while, he managed to say, "I didn't have the stove lit because I thought it'd bother you. I didn't take my meds because I thought you'd hate the smell. I only carried a hand warmer. If you really don't like it, I'll get rid of it."

Lu Wuyou didn't speak, just looked at him.

Fang Zhihe crouched down and started picking up the scattered pea cakes one by one. Halfway through, his stomach hurt so bad he couldn't stand it. He grabbed a handful at random and collapsed onto the floor.

He fell, and the cakes in his hand spilled again. Dazed, he fumbled in the air, but what he'd grabbed slipped away. Fang Zhihe looked up blankly—oh, it was Lu Wuyou's clothes he'd been clutching, he thought.

His stomach throbbed faintly. He got up, gripping a nearby stool, and started collecting the rest. Finally, he had them all. A small spark of joy rose in his heart as he carefully tucked the box back into the case.

Lu Wuyou thought the guy was putting on even more of an act than before. He watched coldly. When Fang Zhihe smiled at him, he returned a smile. "Your Majesty, stop holding that hand warmer. Throw it out. I don't like it."

Fang Zhihe's smile instantly froze. He set down the thing he'd been pressing against his stomach and mumbled, "Okay."

Lu Wuyou found it amusing. He moved closer to him, reached into his coat from his neck, and said, "Fang Zhihe, you've always loved being the center of attention since you were a kid. Why don't you get it? No matter how much you beg for attention, nobody loves you."

Fang Zhihe sat stiff, letting his hand reach his stomach. The icy wrist pressed into his twitching stomach, even maliciously kneading the skin there.

Fang Zhihe was cold, but he didn't dare touch the hand warmer. He could only shiver and repeat, "No one loves me—why?"

Lu Wuyou raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Because you're too disgusting, too cheap, too unlikable."

"Even without Changlin, no one would love a selfish, arrogant waste like you who cares nothing for others. Do you think everything you have came from? Stolen, snatched, discarded by others—what are you worth? You're just sucking up to me to hold on to your throne. You covet what others throw away. You're only fit for things others discard."

Fang Zhihe suddenly grabbed the hand hidden inside his clothes and said in a muffled tone, "Say whatever you want about anything else, but don't brush off how I feel about you. I like you because I like you—it has nothing to do with the throne. Besides, you know better than anyone how I ended up as emperor."

Lu Wuyou was startled. He tried to pull his hand back but couldn't get it free. He glared at Fang Zhihe. "Let go. Do you want to die?"

Fang Zhihe held on tight. "You bully me like this only because you know I like you. Why can't you bear to hear me say I like you?"

Lu Wuyou yanked his hand back hard, his fingers raking a long scratch across Fang Zhihe's stomach. Fang Zhihe shuddered in pain and let go.

Lu Wuyou angrily kicked Fang Zhihe away, then spitefully threw the hand warmer at him, splashing hot water all over Fang Zhihe's hand.

Fang Zhihe let out a muffled whimper, curling up in the carriage. It took a while before his good hand had the strength to move to his stomach.

The hand scalded by the hot water instantly turned bright red and even raised a string of blisters. Fang Zhihe's stomach ached terribly. He rubbed the injured hand on the ground a couple of times before he could muster the strength to get up. The blisters burst, causing sharp pain. Half-sitting on the floor, his eyes red from pain, he looked at Lu Wuyou. Before he could speak, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The blood was bright red, stark against his pallid lips.

Lu Wuyou hadn't expected him to cough up blood just from being scalded on the back of the hand. Irritated, he walked over, dragged him up, and dropped him onto the seat. "At this rate, you might as well go back. Why follow me?"

Fang Zhihe coughed out the blood clogging his throat, recovered a little, shook his head, and sighed. "Don't bully me anymore... it hurts so much."

Lu Wuyou didn't know what to say, just glared at him.

Fang Zhihe closed his eyes and said in a low voice, "The pea cake is delicious. I practiced a long time... the peas were soaked myself last night. It's really good. Lu Yuan secretly ate quite a bit. I only sent him to study at the Grand Tutor's house because I couldn't bear to have him finish them all. I saved a lot to bring to you..."

"Have a taste... it's good. I made it myself."

Lu Wuyou shifted slightly.

Fang Zhihe's voice grew softer. "Yuntai..."

Lu Wuyou wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"You want to come, so I'll come with you. I don't want to leave you. Isn't it good to accompany you?"

Lu Wuyou took a pea cake from the box and bit into it.

"Stay if you want. Just don't die—I don't care either way."

Fang Zhihe, dazed, felt as though he were in a beautiful dream.

"All right."