Chapter 22#

Assassination: A World of Rain and Sky#

What melody was the Crown Prince playing? Pei Xiting didn’t know, but he could discern something of rain striking mountain streams and wind sweeping through grass and trees. His wrist remained steady, yet his brush did not paint the verdant peaks—instead, it captured a figure seated upright within the pavilion.

A dark robe and a wooden hairpin, devoid of any ornate adornment, only accentuated the Crown Prince’s innate austerity and grace. This was a body carved from ice and polished from jade—a beautiful physique. Pei Xiting’s peripheral vision was restless, his gaze fixed on the Crown Prince’s hands: pale, slender, with perfectly balanced flesh and bone. Such hands, like cold jade, would be a delight to behold whether they were playing music, painting, wielding a whip, or gripping a blade. Now, as they calmly strummed the zither, they seemed to pluck at Pei Xiting’s heart as well—now fast, now slow, rising and falling, never allowing him peace.

The Supreme Zither’s music can seize one’s soul—truly, it lives up to its reputation.

Yu Shaoyun, sharp-eyed, not only noticed Pei Xiting staring unblinkingly at the Crown Prince’s hands but also that his gaze looked as if he wanted to devour them—utterly entranced, almost intoxicated. Just as he was about to step forward to protect His Highness’s precious hands, Yu Shaoyun was suddenly grabbed by the arm by the eunuch Lai beside him. The two of them shuffled sideways like crabs, moving a few steps away.

Once steady, Eunuch Lai subtly gestured to Yu Shaoyun. When the latter inclined his head slightly, Eunuch Lai leaned in and whispered, “Disturb His Highness’s refined pleasure, and you’ll be a wanderer of the ends of the earth from now on.”

The zither’s melody was mellow and elegant, and the rain fell softly, enough to mask their murmurs. Yu Shaoyun whispered back, “Don’t you think Pei San’s gaze is a bit… fervent?”

“I do,” Eunuch Lai replied.

Eunuch Lai had been dispatched by the Crown Prince to serve by the young master’s side and normally wouldn’t have been present today. It was only because the young master had learned from Yu Shaoyun that the painter “Wen Juan” was none other than Pei Xiting, and that this man was to paint His Highness today, that he had been sent specifically to take a look at this Pei San.

“But so what?” Eunuch Lai folded his hands, closed his eyes, and looked utterly unperturbed. “His Highness hasn’t said anything, has he?”

True enough. If His Highness disapproved of Pei San’s gaze, those beautiful yet audacious eyes would likely have been lost long ago. Yu Shaoyun couldn’t help but glance again—Pei Xiting had already withdrawn that frightening stare and was bent over his painting, focused and serious.

Before long, the Crown Prince played the same piece three times in succession. As if weary, he rose and paced to the edge of the pavilion. Both men immediately stepped back, bowing their heads, daring not to sneak another peek.

Eunuch Lai approached, offering a cup of tea. “Your Highness, moisten your throat.”

The Crown Prince took a sip. The tea was rich and mellow, with a faint bitterness lingering at the back of his tongue. The rain grew heavier. The hand holding the teacup suddenly reached out, catching a handful of the view—rain striking the lotus pond.

The gray sky deepened, turning into a vat of inverted indigo ink, when the Crown Prince heard Pei Xiting’s voice.

“Your Highness.”

Perhaps from exhaustion, or perhaps because he hadn’t spoken for a long time, the voice was somewhat hoarse. The Crown Prince turned and saw himself on the painting—a refined pavilion, a curtain of rain and mist, curling tea smoke, closed hibiscus flowers. Every detail was elegant and vivid, yet none could overpower the dark-clad figure at its center.

Ink and brush would testify to the painter’s partiality.

Pei Xiting, tired from sitting, stood up and stretched. He stepped back two paces, crossed his arms, and leaned lazily against a pavilion pillar. Gazing at the Crown Prince, his tone carried a hint of tender affection. “If I were to choose, I’d either paint the most dazzling thing or the one that captures my heart. Today, the thing that dazzles me most is the figure in this painting, and what captures my heart is also that figure. This is the world of rain and sky I’ve seen today.”

The Crown Prince looked at the painting, then raised his eyes to Pei Xiting, saying nothing.

Their eyes met. Pei Xiting smiled warmly, while the Crown Prince remained calmly composed—yet only he himself could detect those faint, indistinct emotions.

Pei Xiting was a painter with his own insights; that was his value. But Pei Xiting was also a bold and crafty fox, with a mouth that occasionally forgot its place, speaking with daring bluntness—perhaps everything Pei Xiting had just said was merely a painter’s pure expression, without ulterior motive. That’s what the Crown Prince tried to think, yet what he saw were Pei Xiting’s smiling eyes—eyes that, by their very nature, were alluring and seductive.

He could not tell whether the affection in this painter’s tone and the partiality shown by his brush were truly pure or not.

The pavilion fell silent—until several arrows tore through the curtain of rain, hurtling toward the group in the pavilion like a sharp net!

Pei Xiting’s face changed color. He quickly straightened up, but was simultaneously grabbed by a large hand on his arm. Amid the chaos, he was jerked about like a puppet, stumbling a few steps. He heard the clatter of arrows being cut down by blades as they hit the ground. Dizzy and disoriented, he finally stopped his frantic dodging and looked up to meet the Crown Prince’s calm profile.

Pei Xiting turned his head to look ahead. More than a dozen white-clad assassins surged toward the pavilion. Yu Shaoyun stepped forward, his blade crossed in front of the Crown Prince. With a flick of his wrist, the icy sword flew out, cleaving through the head of the foremost assassin.

Bone and flesh severed, the head flew off, blood spurting. Pei Xiting’s eyes widened, his entire body frozen stiff.

Yu Shaoyun swiftly leaped out of the pavilion, catching the falling hilt of his blade, and in one motion plunged it backward into the chest of an assassin behind him. White robes blossomed with blood, and the assassin crashed to the ground.

Such a scene might look cool on a screen, but witnessing it firsthand, experiencing it personally, was entirely different. Pei Xiting’s lips trembled. Suddenly, his waist loosened, and then darkness descended before his eyes—his own belt had been used to blindfold him.

“Scared?” The Crown Prince’s voice was somewhat muffled, perhaps drowned by the heavy rain. Pei Xiting rasped, “First time I’ve seen a head fly off…”

“Mm, your whole body went rigid.” The Crown Prince glanced at Pei Xiting’s tense jaw and tightly pressed lips. The image of Pei Xiting smiling warmly, boldly staring at him without blinking, flashed before his eyes. A malicious thought, like a caged beast that had long been resting, extended its claws for a rare moment. He said, “Follow me, and such scenes won’t be uncommon. There may be even bloodier ones. Do you regret it?”

Pei Xiting closed his eyes. “Your Highness, next time, please cover my eyes… No,” he grew bolder, turning his head to plead, “Can you make it quieter? I’ll have nightmares.”

The Crown Prince had never heard such a naive request. “How does one kill quietly?”

The sound of necks snapping, bodies being pierced, blood spurting, heads thudding to the ground… one after another. Pei Xiting didn’t want to hear them but had no choice. He guessed more assassins had arrived—surely more than a dozen had been killed by now?

The sound of a blade thrusting into flesh was particularly jarring. Pei Xiting’s ears buzzed with a sharp pain, and images surged uncontrollably into his mind. He wanted to cover his ears, but feared that if he couldn’t hear or see, the Crown Prince would abandon him. Discomfort overwhelmed him, his feet unsteady, and he finally recklessly grabbed for the only hand he could rely on—like a spoiled, unreasonable child, almost ordering, “You cover my ears for me!”

Eunuch Lai, standing at the Crown Prince’s side, raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

The Crown Prince was also taken aback. Pei Xiting seized his hand abruptly and clumsily placed it over his own cold ears. Then Pei Xiting shuffled two steps closer, making it easier for the Crown Prince to cover his ears. Amid the chaos, the soft crown of his head brushed against the Crown Prince’s nose, carrying the faint scent of tulip oil.

The Crown Prince felt a tickle and couldn’t help but turn his head slightly, momentarily speechless. He wanted to pull his hand back, but Pei Xiting grasped it tightly. That hand grew colder, the fingertips turning white.

“…Never mind. It would be a pity if he got scared to death.”

Seeing the assassins multiplying, even Yu Shaoyun, with his unstoppable edge, found himself trapped in a clash of blades, unable to finish them off quickly.

At this, the Crown Prince said curtly, “Meet at the detached villa.”

Before Eunuch Lai could respond, the Crown Prince had already pulled his hand free, reversed his grip, and seized Pei Xiting by the wrist. Together, they strode out of the pavilion and plunged into the rain.