Chapter 36

Chapter 36

"036"

Every time Lu Ao conquered a place, the first thing he did was take all the local doctors and military medics.

Qi Ying was a POW from his final campaign.

Qi Ying was meant to be locked up in Lu Ao's private pharmacy, where he kept hundreds of doctors hidden away in a secret spot, working day and night to find a cure for Xiao Lancui's illness.

But the next day, he heard two of his top generals got into a fight over who'd get Qi Ying.

That's when Lu Ao found out Qi Ying, though called a military medic, was actually an enemy general's bed warmer.

He had Qi Ying brought in and asked, "If a guy bottoms for another guy, does it hurt his body? Does it shorten his life?"

Once you're brought into the tent, you're a camp whore—death's the only way out. Qi Ying got it right away, kowtowed, and said, "I've got a secret recipe that keeps the body from getting damaged and even gives the ultimate pleasure. But it varies from person to person. I'd need to tweak the prescription based on this nobleman's body at all times, and after a long recovery, I can guarantee the nobleman's body stays safe and his life gets longer."

Lu Ao then had Qi Ying castrated and kept him around for future plans, and to easily ask about the dos and don'ts of men's bedroom stuff.

But who'd have thought that filthy, disgusting vermin would dare to lust after his teacher.

After Qi Ying was taken by Xiao Lancui, Lu Ao tried some fancy pastries one day—they were so good he grabbed some and headed straight for Xiao's place.

Finding out Xiao Lancui was painting in the backyard bamboo grove, he told the servants not to announce him and snuck over.

But what he saw—

The painting was done. Xiao Lancui was napping in a recliner under the bamboo. He was frail, and even in the blazing summer, his hands and feet were ice cold, covered with a thin blanket, while Qi Ying stood by fanning him.

Qi Ying's eyes were full of adoration as he stared at Xiao Lancui.

When he snapped out of it and saw Lu Ao standing in the distance, Qi Ying was scared shitless, dropped to his knees, and kowtowed hard.

His forehead slammed into the bluestone, blood pouring out.

Lu Ao just smiled, put a finger to his lips, and shook his head at Qi Ying.

Shh, don't wake his teacher.

Lu Ao turned and left without a sound.

That night, Qi Ying was tied up and tossed into a big room full of plague-infected people.

Qi Ying was someone Xiao Lancui had asked for, so killing him outright was too obvious—his teacher would get suspicious.

Every time Lu Ao thought about it, he still felt Qi Ying's death was too easy.

He watched coldly as the car drove off. A stubborn ghost, even burned to ash, still came back to haunt him.

His eyes moved back to Xiao Lancui's back and that iron sword. The terrifying murderous look on Lu Ao's face faded. Even with a mask on, people passing by instinctively steered clear of him.

Xiao Lancui got in the car, and Lu Ao got into the car he'd hired on the roadside. "Follow him."

Xiao Lancui went to a home goods store.

He knew what he wanted. He picked a log-style, zero-formaldehyde, eco-friendly sample room setup and ordered the whole set, appliances included. He paid, left the address and key, bought some daily stuff, and went to pick up a car.

A car he could take right away—a basic black commuter car for about 200,000.

The only hassle was he still had to take the driving test.

The 4S store guy drove the new car to drop Xiao Lancui off at his rental and enthusiastically recommended a driving school.

"If you pass the tests, you can get your license in as little as 20 days."

Xiao Lancui saved the number, grabbed his stuff, and headed upstairs.

Two bags, pretty heavy. Xiao Lancui carried them up and broke a light sweat. He opened the bedding pack and tossed the new pajamas and underwear into the washer-dryer combo, so he could make the bed by night.

He texted Xiao Jingli: "Dad, I'm hanging out with friends tonight, not coming home."

Xiao Jingli called back. After a bunch of reminders, he cut to the chase: "Have you picked a nursing home? They're all in demand; if you don't book early, there won't be good rooms."

Xiao Lancui said, "I'm still deciding. Even if I rush, I won't decide until after New Year's." He said calmly, "Maybe this is the last Chinese New Year I'll spend with you. I want to think it over after the holiday."

Xiao Jingli was quiet for a second, then laughed and said, "Don't say that. You'll be fine. Dad's not rushing you. Take your time. We'll talk after New Year's."

Then he hung up.

Xiao Lancui put down his phone. He was feeling a bit better today and had some appetite. He ordered a nutritious meal. With nothing to do for now, he sat on the sofa and picked up the sword again.

It was so well preserved that it was almost unbelievable.

Xiao Lancui drew the sword and examined it again. Hundreds of years had passed, yet the blade was still sharp. This sword had been nourished by tens of thousands of lives, and it gleamed with a chilling, fierce light even under the orange lamplight.

A sword burdened with too much killing.

Xiao Lancui put it back and slid it into the drawer of the coffee table.

There was still time before the delivery arrived. Xiao Lancui opened his laptop. The internet was very convenient; it didn't take him long to contact a private detective.

Xiao Lancui had once built the most powerful intelligence agency in Dali. After a few tests, he decided to hire this private detective.

He sent a photo of Xiao Jingli, then, after a moment's thought, searched for a photo of Xiao Liqin. Xiao Liqin was now a regular on the financial pages, so there were plenty of pictures. He sent them together to the private detective. "Send me their daily schedules, down to the smallest detail, before midnight every day."

The other party quoted a price. Xiao Lancui transferred half the fee, and just then, the delivery arrived.

Another meal of light food, along with a matcha milk pudding ice bread that the rider had bought for him with an extra tip.

He had a cold, but he was also a bit craving it.

Xiao Lancui tore open the package, bit into the ice bread, and was about to close the laptop when he suddenly noticed a promotional link on the left side of the webpage.

"The First Tyrant in History, Emperor Yingzong of Li, and the Female Assassin's Heartbreaking Love Story—Streaming Tonight on XX Website..."

Xiao Lancui, holding the cold bread, paused for a second. He carried the laptop to the dining table.

While eating, Xiao Lancui clicked on the first episode of *The Tyrant and I*.

This wasn't the first time Xiao Lancui had watched a video. Over this period, he had watched various types of documentaries and instructional courses, but it was his first time watching a TV series.

He took small bites of the ice bread, watched the first episode expressionlessly, and when the second episode required payment, he closed the video.

Utterly absurd.

The TV series portrayed Lu Ao like a mentally disabled older man, even making him the most beloved crown prince of the Late Emperor, whose daily routine was just causing trouble.

It even fabricated a teacher for Lu Ao.

The Grand Tutor, past fifty, had a precious daughter—the other female lead—betrothed to Lu Ao as the future Crown Princess. This obstructed the interests of the second female lead's family, leading to the Grand Tutor being framed and his entire clan wiped out, with only the female lead faking her death to escape.

Lu Ao, believing the female lead dead and losing his beloved, turned dark and became a tyrant.

After finishing an ice bread, Xiao Lancui checked the rating system and gave it one star.

Downstairs, Lu Ao was flipping through the receipt the delivery rider had swiped.

Two matcha milk pudding ice breads?

He looked up at the lit balcony, waited until midnight when the light turned off, then turned and left.

Lu Ao walked into a convenience store and handed the receipt to the cashier. "Five."

The store had ice bread. The cashier eyed Lu Ao's all-black outfit, only his narrow, cold black eyes visible, and felt a little scared. She quickly grabbed five ice breads, packed them, and rang them up as fast as she could.

"Need... a plastic bag? Fifty cents."

Lu Ao took the five ice breads with one hand. "How much?"

The cashier quickly lowered her head. "No bag. That's 49.5 total."

Lu Ao scanned to pay, paid, and left.

It was around minus ten degrees Celsius at midnight. He wore thin clothes but felt nothing, tearing open an ice bread.

Something that made Xiao Lancui buy two of them—

He took a bite. A slightly bitter tea flavor, with a hint of red bean paste sweetness.

Lu Ao wasn't picky about food; as long as it was edible, it was fine. And if Xiao Lancui liked it, he loved it even more. He finished off all five ice breads in a few bites and headed to City University.

Going anywhere else would be too obvious, so he had to wait for Xiao Lancui at City University.

The next morning, Xiao Lancui was woken by the rain.

It started raining around four in the morning, and by the time he got to school, the rain showed no sign of letting up—in fact, it was getting heavier.

Xiao Lancui went to his chosen classes as usual. After lunch, he went to Zhao Lan's convenience store on time.

Zhao Lan scanned his items slowly, chatting with him. "You look a lot better."

"Not bad," Xiao Lancui said, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water.

Zhao Lan had been checking Xiao Lancui's social media every few minutes, but he hadn't posted anything—let alone a photo of Xiao Anfeng. She couldn't hold back anymore. After scanning the sparkling water, she pretended to be casual. "Why do you always come to the dining hall alone? Isn't your brother at City University too?"

Xiao Lancui paid. "He's been busy lately and hasn't been coming to school."

Zhao Lan pressed on nervously, "Busy with what? He's not sick, is he?" She quickly added, "It's been getting really cold lately, it's easy to get sick."

Xiao Lancui finished paying and smiled slightly. "He's a senior, busy with internships. Not sick."

Zhao Lan breathed a sigh of relief, but then thought that if Xiao Anfeng wasn't staying for grad school, she'd have even fewer chances to see him. She felt a pang of sadness, and forced a smile. "It's good for young people to be busy, keeps them occupied..."

Xiao Lancui didn't say much more, grabbed his bag, and left.

The rain was still falling. With some time before his afternoon class, he opened his umbrella and went to the library.

Rain pattered against the umbrella.

The path was nearly empty. Xiao Lancui walked silently, lost in thought.

The groundwork was almost laid. It was time to reveal Xiao Anfeng's blood type.

Last time, he had avoided Xiao Anfeng getting into a car accident. Now he needed to think of a new way to make Xiao Anfeng lose blood and end up in the hospital again.

Better to use an event from the original story.

His train of thought stopped.

Xiao Lancui came to a stop.

Ahead, the cobblestone path gleamed from the rain. Dense poplar trees overshadowed an old, long staircase that wound from a small fork up to an old teaching building on the slope.

During the lunch break, no students or teachers passed by. The unidentified flower bushes beneath the poplars had withered in the winter rain, washed clean from branch to root.

A figure dressed entirely in black sat on the left side of the stairs, on the second or third step, with their head buried in their knees.

Motionless, soaking wet—Xiao Lancui couldn't tell if they were dead or alive.

He looked away, held his umbrella, and continued walking.

After reading half a book in the library, Xiao Lancui attended four classes in the afternoon. When he left the classroom, the rain had lightened a bit. The sky was pitch black, and the crowd of students after class scattered in all directions.

Xiao Lancui walked toward the campus gate.

He moved slowly. Groups of people chatting in twos or threes overtook him, their lively voices cutting through in the cold rain.

He had never truly owned anything in his life.

The familial love he thought he had, the power above all others, his very existence—even his body—had all been illusions, disappearing without a trace.

He needed something that belonged to him, solely to him, something that wouldn't betray him. Or someone.

A poor little dog, unwanted by anyone.

That would be perfect.

Xiao Lancui stopped. The faint figures ahead had all moved on. The streetlights on both sides fell into the raindrops on the road, turning each drop into a warm, orange glow.

The next moment, Xiao Lancui turned around, against the surging crowd, holding his umbrella, and walked back toward that long staircase.