Part 2
With his current constitution, catching a cold from the midnight air was easy. Even if an imperial physician came, they wouldn’t find anything suspicious, because he truly would be sick.
Besides, since Song Yilou had arrived, whether or not he went to the banquet was irrelevant.
“That won’t do. I need to see the Emperorâs attitude and then send word to the General.” Lin Yue flatly refused Yun Wuxiangâs suggestion. “My disguise technique is flawless. I promise I won’t lose face for you, Great Prince.”
Yun Wuxiang: “As you wish.”
The victory banquet soon became a reality. Lin Yue, disguised as the Yu’an Prince, went to the feast, while Yun Wuxiang remained in the manor, waiting for a certain someone to appear.
As the sun set and the candles were lit, all was quiet.
In the silence, a faint rustling reached his ears.
Yun Wuxiang placed his brush back on the rack. Waiting for the ink on the letter to dry slightly, he tucked it into the medical book on the table.
He looked up, locking eyes with the scorpion gnawing on the bars of its cage, and spoke to the air: “Come out.”
On the wall, a shadow slowly approached from behind Yun Wuxiang. The figure leaned down, bringing its mouth close to the ear amidst the white hair. A low, suppressed voiceâsounding like a ghost in the nightâwhispered, “Are you calling me?”
Yun Wuxiang turned his head and saw a face that couldn’t be more familiar. It had pure and handsome features, but the five small beauty marks under the corner of the eye gave it a demonic charm. The corners of the eyes curved into a natural smile, yet the pitch-black pupils were like a moonless night, devoid of any lightâas if endless evil were hidden within, ready to stretch out its claws and drag one down in the dead of night.
It was Song Yilou, but not the youth who played at being cute and obedient. The version before him was an adult Song Yilou, who had fed all his “cuteness” to the dogs and written “gloomy and eccentric” across his face.
Yun Wuxiang scanned those eyes, which held a hint of strangeness. His eyelashes drooped slightly. A Song Yilou who doesn’t recognize me.
Song Yilou hadn’t sought him out during the two years heâd been in this small world. Heâd figured something had gone wrongâit turned out the fellow had forgotten him.
“I am calling you.” Yun Wuxiang composed himself. Two years of being sick had accustomed him to keeping his tone light and slow. “Looking for your scorpion?”
“Originally, yes. Now, I am looking for you.” Song Yilou hooked a lock of Yun Wuxiangâs long hair, twirling it between his fingers. His goals could change at any moment.
Yun Wuxiang nodded. He didn’t ask what the other wanted; he simply changed the subject. “Have you seen a flower with both black and white petals?”
Song Yilou took a step forward, naturally sitting in the seat beside him. He propped his chin on one hand, studying Yun Wuxiang with eyes full of interest. “Although I haven’t seen it, if you want it, I can find it for you.”
Yun Wuxiang: “No need.”
He wouldn’t find it. Song Yilou had been in here twenty years longer than him and hadn’t encountered the Black-and-White Floating Life Flower. This primordial objectâs manifestation in this small world might not be a flower at all.
The merman tribe had guarded it for so long; many mermen and demons had entered. Even with the lowest probability, someone should have encountered it, yet no one had ever brought the flower out.
Evidently, the flower’s true body was not so easily obtained.
There was no need to keep searching. He would let nature take its course.
“Iâll help you find the flower, and you come with me.” Song Yilou acted as if he hadn’t heard the refusal. The smile on his face deepened as he reached out toward Yun Wuxiangâs shoulder.
As an Emperor, Songxuanâs habit of acting willfully and recklessly had only worsened.
Yun Wuxiang swatted his hand away. “Either you die, I die, or you listen to me properly.”
Song Yilou looked at his swatted hand, neither angry nor annoyed. He spoke casually, as if chatting about the weather: “If you die, how about I have everyone in the State of Yu’an buried with you?”
Yun Wuxiangâs coldness was a perfect match for his. “As you like.”
The dark eyes suddenly zoomed in, stopping less than a fingerâs width from Yun Wuxiangâs eyes. Their noses nearly touched.
Yun Wuxiangâs pupils constricted reflexively, but otherwise, his expression didn’t change at all.
After two breaths, just as Yun Wuxiang was about to impatiently push him away, Song Yilou backed away into his chair. He said with a sigh, “You truly don’t care. Doesn’t that mean I have nothing to threaten you with?”
“Ah, right.” Song Yilou punched his left palm with his right fist, looking at Yun Wuxiang with excitement. “Do you not care about Yun Tianqing either?”
“Speak plainly. If you want something and I am in a good mood, I might give it to you.”
Yun Wuxiang didn’t take the bait. When talking to Song Yilou, one couldn’t bring other people into the mix. This narrow-minded Gu would get jealous and start acting out until he was certain his status was higher than the other person’s.
Yun Wuxiang considered himself a nearly perfect Ghost Gu keeper; he wouldn’t fall into such a simple trap.
“Hahaha!” Song Yilou laughed until he was a mess. Once heâd had enough, he asked again, “Then how about you come to the victory banquet with me and kill the Emperor of Yu’an?”
Yun Wuxiang nodded. “Fine.”
Yun Xinyang wouldn’t know what happened here. There was no need for him to stick to the rules of being a “good person.” What was wrong with letting his pet have a little fun?
Nothing.
Because he agreed so decisively, Song Yilou laughed even harder. He leaned against Yun Wuxiang, his shoulders shaking. When the laughter subsided, he looked up from Yun Wuxiangâs shoulder and issued an invitation: “Then letâs go.”
What happened?
The heavy scent of blood filled Lin Yueâs nostrils. He felt like he was dreamingâa completely absurd dream.
Otherwise, why would he see the Emperor of Songxuan appearing in the Yu’an imperial palace, standing beside the corpse of the Yu’an Emperor, smiling like a demon walked out of hell to feast on the world’s fear?
And why would he see his own Prince holding a longsword, the blade dripping with the blood of the Yu’an Emperor, slowly staining the magnificent carpet?
“Capture the assassins!” Someone finally shouted. The guards finally snapped out of the sudden shock, and the sound of swords unsheathing rang out one after another.
Song Yilou leaned in to whisper to Yun Wuxiang, “If I leave you here, will you cry?”
“I won’t. Don’t ask such stupid questions.” Yun Wuxiang felt that the amnesiac Song Yilou was a bit differentâhe seemed more “human,” always trying to test his reactions.
Leave him behind? How could that be possible?
The way Song Yilou looked at him was practically burning. He might as well have written “I am extremely interested in you” across his eyes.
At a time like this, Song Yilou would only cling to his side.
“But I want to see you cry.” Song Yilou grabbed Yun Wuxiangâs waist. He moved like the wind, sidestepping the incoming blades. It looked perilous, yet he was completely at ease, strolling through the guards’ siege as if taking a walk. He led Yun Wuxiang onto the roof outside the hall.
Yun Wuxiang was about to say he had never cried in his life, but then he remembered the tear-inducing powder Song Yilou had once used on him.
For a moment, his gaze darkened. He glanced at Song Yilouâs profile. The other sensed his gaze and looked back with a smile. “Youâre peeking at me.”
“I have no need to peek.” Yun Wuxiang didn’t even blink. Since he could look at Song Yilou whenever he wanted, why would he need to peek?
He openly studied the adult version of Song Yilou. His features had filled out much more than in his youth; by appearance alone, he was still a refreshing and handsome “sunny boy,” but with those eyes and that dark filter, he looked wildly arrogant and wicked. No matter how you looked at him, he didn’t look like a good person.
Actually, it was Song Yilou who was stunned by his naturally blunt attitude.
The sound of wind reached his ears. His body moved before his mind did, ducking to avoid an arrow that whistled past.
Song Yilou straightened up, performing a fake look of panic. “Oh my, how dangerous.”
Yun Wuxiang lifted an arm. His sleeve, embroidered with crane patterns, now had a hole in it. “My clothes are ruined.”
“Then letâs go back and change.” With that, Song Yilou whisked Yun Wuxiang away. Countless arrows followed in his wake, but none even touched the corner of his cloak.
When Song Yilou said “go back,” he certainly didn’t mean the Yu’an Prince’s Manor.
The next day, when Yun Wuxiang woke up, he was already in a jolting carriage.
“Ahem.” His throat was itchy, and his head felt heavy. The physical discomfort made him a bit irritable.
He had caught a cold after being whisked through the midnight air by Song Yilou.
“Youâre awake. Weâve already left the State of Yu’an, you know.” The carriage curtain was lifted from the outside, revealing Song Yilouâs joyful, smiling face. Yun Wuxiang gave him a weary glance, closed his eyes, and leaned back to rest.
The carriage swayed. Someone climbed in and sat beside Yun Wuxiang. The rustling sounds made it impossible to sleep.
Yun Wuxiang opened one eye and saw Song Yilou messing with a pile of jars and bottles. A scorpion was crawling through a pile of medicinal herbs nearby. “Poisons?”
Even as an Emperor, he was still obsessed with poisons and bugs. Old habits truly die hard.
Song Yilou nodded. “Your medicine is mixed in here. Iâm looking for it.”
Yun Wuxiang half-lidded his eyes. “Go look outside. Youâre loud. I want to sleep.”
Song Yilou stopped moving the jars. His warm fingertip poked Yun Wuxiangâs face. The latter opened his eyes impatiently, his gaze saying: What now?
“Guess where weâre going?”
“Do you want to know what happened in the Yu’an palace after we left last night?”
“You killed the Emperor of Yu’an. Wanted posters are already all over the capital. Don’t you want to know how much your bounty is?”
Song Yilou originally had a lot to say, but seeing Yun Wuxiangâs eyes, he knew the other didn’t care about any of those questions. He truly didn’t care.
He didn’t care about his home country, he didn’t care about the consequences of killing an Emperor, and he seemingly didn’t care where he was being taken.
It was as if no person or thing could enter his sight.
Song Yilou asked with rare sincerity, “Prince Yun, is there anything you want?”
What do you actually care about?
Sleep was no longer an option. Yun Wuxiang opened his eyes, scanned the person beside him, and spoke with a soft breath, his lips barely moving: “You.”
“Me?” Song Yilou blinked. An unreadable curve formed on his lips. His fully developed male body pressed closer to Yun Wuxiang, his heat transferring through their clothes. “You want me?”
“Mm,” Yun Wuxiang replied matter-of-factly.
You were always mine anyway. Youâre the one who ran over and insisted on clinging to me.
“Be quiet. Talk to me after I wake up.” It was easy to get sleepy when sick. Yun Wuxiangâs eyelids were already closing.
The carriage finally fell silent. Song Yilou watched the sleeping man, his brow furrowing then relaxing. His gaze shifted constantly, like a cat studying something it couldn’t quite understand.
A strange person.
But… he said he wants me.
Song Yilou leaned down, close to Yun Wuxiangâs ear. “You have to keep your word.”
Since you said it, you can never leave for the rest of your life.
In his dream, Yun Wuxiang felt his ear itching and thought the noise was continuing. He reached out, grabbed something nearby, and used it to cover his ear.
The world finally went silent.
The “earmuff” that was his hand twitched slightly.
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