Chapter 13#

The bitter melon, lily bulb, and coptis soup was indeed effective in reducing internal heat. Hua Rong drank it with a beaming face, while also serving a bowl for Hua Gui, gesturing: “Strange, strange, this soup isn’t bitter, it’s sweet.”

Hua Gui was surprised, his eyes widened. He buried his head and took a fierce gulp, then immediately slammed the table: “If I ever fall for your tricks again, I’m your grandson!”

Hua Rong nodded and gestured: “This is the seventy-ninth time you’ve said that. I already have seventy-eight grandsons.”

Seeing Hua Gui glare, he extended his index finger and pointed at the soup bowl: “I’m going to find a scale now to weigh how heavy this black gold fan is. You’d better finish all the soup before I come back.”

“No reason, drink it or not, it’s up to you.” Before Hua Gui could roar like a lion, he gestured with a wicked smile: “Anyway, I’m going to work at the Prince’s Manor soon. I’m considering whether to take you with me.”

“And that Liu Yun, I see he’s not in good spirits. I don’t know when he might try to kill himself.” He added another sentence, feigning a frown, opened his fan, and walked away.

Needless to say, Hua Gui naturally finished the soup later, properly reducing his internal heat. Pulling a long face, he packed his things, and the next day, he moved into the Funing Prince’s Manor with Hua Rong.

Everything in the Prince’s Manor remained the same. Han Lang still couldn’t sleep at night. In the latter half of the night, his eyes were still bright as snow, using his finger to lift Hua Rong’s chin: “What virtues and abilities do you have to think you can replace Liu Yun?”

“Liu Yun is irreplaceable.” Hua Rong gestured: “If it’s inconvenient for the Master to express, at least I can settle him on Master’s behalf.”

Han Lang’s smile widened, his finger sliding down, stroking his collarbone: “You are first-class at reading people’s minds. I like that.”

“Pass this book to him for me.” When his finger slid to a critical part, he suddenly withdrew his hand, pulled out a booklet from beside the pillow, threw it at Hua Rong’s feet, and slowly lay down: “Also, press my acupoints to let me sleep for an hour. You bear the consequences if I sleep more or less.”

Hua Rong shrugged and picked up the booklet.

The booklet was titled “Two Instruments, Four Images, Nine Diagrams Formation”. It seemed to be about mechanical formations, which he couldn’t understand anyway.

But he might not understand acupoint pressing either. To press it so precisely that he slept for exactly an hour would be the death of him.

“Whatever.” In the end, he thought, muttering in his heart, and poked randomly with his finger: “Bear the consequences, then bear them. It’s not like I haven’t borne them before.”

“It hasn’t even been half an hour. I haven’t slept enough.” After waking up from a dream, Han Lang yawned, smiled at Hua Rong, his sleepy eyes half-slanted: “If I don’t sleep enough, my temper will be bad. Young Master Hua, please forgive me.”

Hua Rong nodded hurriedly, not arguing that he hadn’t even slept for half an hour himself.

The first day as the Funing Prince’s personal guard began just like that. Han Lang didn’t actually make things difficult for him; he just constantly sent him on errands. If he ran slowly, an inkstone would be thrown at his head, making him blind for half a cup of tea’s time.

“Being a Prince is indeed not easy. This time, Hua Rong will definitely use his strength to let the Prince rest well.” By nightfall, Hua Rong was actually feeling light-headed, but his flattery was still meticulous.

“Today I want one and a half hours.” Han Lang said softly, raising his hand to wipe away cold sweat, and pressed his temples again.

Hua Rong nodded. He pressed hard, his fingers exerting even more force, using all his might.

Han Lang collapsed with a thud. This rest would definitely be enough; he absolutely wouldn’t wake up for three to five hours.

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Imperial Palace, West Side Gate. The night was deep and the dew was heavy; the guards had to stomp their feet to keep warm.

Just then, someone approached. The steps were very light. The person wore an all-black cloak with a large hood that completely covered their face.

“Halt! Sneaking around, where are you from?” The guard’s voice immediately grew loud.

The comer didn’t speak, only raised a hand and held something in front of the guard’s eyes.

It was a shining waist token, gold, with the character “Ning” carved in clerical script.

The guard immediately fell silent, and the palace gate opened instantly.

The Funing Prince Han Lang’s waist token was enough to make these people abandon their curiosity and make way.

Xuanguang Hall, another sleepless night. Loneliness seemed colder than the night. The Emperor tossed and turned, finally got up, sent away all the palace maids and eunuchs, and opened the secret door.

“Do you really think he is sincere to me?” After the person came out, the Emperor approached and impatiently gestured.

“Voice” laughed darkly, and only after a long time did he look up: “He? Who does Your Majesty refer to?”

“Who else could it be…” The Emperor frowned. Before he could finish his sentence, his gesture froze.

Under the candlelight, there was a shadow. Someone walked slowly out from behind the curtain, masked, footsteps almost inaudible.

An assassin had actually entered the inner palace, an assassin with extremely high lightness skills.

The Emperor was stunned and hurriedly gestured, signaling “Voice”: “Shout quickly! After shouting, hurry back to the secret room.”

“Voice” didn’t move, surprisingly didn’t shout or move, just turned towards that person, standing still.

That person didn’t speak, a pair of exposed eyes bright as snow. With a sweep of the right hand, the Emperor was immediately knocked unconscious.

Still at the West Side Gate, the guards yawned and saw two black figures approaching from afar.

The two were about the same height, both wearing black cloaks with hoods covering their faces, walking hurriedly.

The guard bowed and immediately made way after one of them showed a waist token, not asking a single extra question.

The two stepped forward, just one step away from crossing this ten-mile palace wall.

“Wait!” Just then, a clamor suddenly erupted behind them. Imperial guards rushed over: “Who are you?”

The guard spoke up: “These are lords from the Funing Prince’s Manor.”

The usually effective title didn’t work this time. The leading imperial guard was relentless: “Please remove your hoods, my lords. Word just came from Xuanguang Hall that the Emperor was found knocked unconscious. To avoid suspicion, please cooperate, my lords.”

The two remained silent. One of them raised a hand, fingers touching the brim of the hood.

The hood fell, but inside was still a masked face. That person flicked their hand and suddenly attacked, throwing out dozens of hidden weapons in a single stroke.

Some of the soldiers immediately fell, but more surged forward, their blades bright as snow, surrounding them.

A chaotic battle thus began. Only one of the two knew martial arts, and in an instant, they fell into a disadvantage.

The imperial guards fought more bravely as the battle went on. Although their blades hadn’t drawn blood, their fist winds were fierce, and more than one blow landed on the assassin’s back.

Leave or die; the situation couldn’t be clearer.

“Voice” pondered, finally stepped back and withdrew, stepping out of the assassin’s protection in a single step.

Dozens of long knives, bright as snow, were immediately placed against his neck.

The assassin stomped their foot and didn’t stay any longer, fighting desperately to clear a path, using lightness skills to escape through the West Gate, disappearing into the vast night.

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“Reporting to the Prince, something big has happened.” Han Lang heard the noise above his head as soon as he woke up. It was Liu Nian, speaking somewhat hesitantly: “Someone explored Xuanguang Hall at night, knocked the Emperor unconscious, and almost took away… that person.”

Han Lang was greatly shocked, stood up abruptly, and couldn’t stop a wave of dizziness, hurriedly waving his hand at Hua Rong who was guarding by his side.

Hua Rong was tactful and immediately slipped away.

Han Lang’s brows furrowed, and he flung his sleeves in fury: “Someone can come and go freely in the Imperial Palace? Are the Imperial Guards dead?”

“That person had the Prince’s waist token. There are three waist tokens in total. Subordinate Liu Yun and the Prince each have one. Subordinate has already checked, all three are present.”

Han Lang lowered his head, the dizziness worsening, and placed a hand on Liu Nian’s left shoulder.

“Follow me into the palace.” After a moment, he spoke, a flash of ruthlessness in his eyes: “Go arrange it. Summon everyone who has seen… ‘Voice’ today. Send them all on their way together.”

The Emperor was frightened and naturally needed comforting; the culprit naturally had to be investigated; state affairs naturally had to be managed. Not a single one could be escaped.

Han Lang was extremely exhausted. It was already late at night the next day when he returned to the Prince’s Manor, his legs heavy as if filled with lead.

In the bedroom, Hua Rong was waiting, dozing off with his chin in his hand.

Han Lang smiled and made his footsteps heavy. Hua Rong indeed woke up immediately and came up to help him undress.

The bed was a top-quality bed, with light gauze and soft curtains, but Han Lang had no sleepiness. So he pressed down on Hua Rong’s head and neck, saying: “Service me there. Don’t use the bottom, use the top.”

Hua Rong naturally understood, his technique also very skilled. He took out his member and stroked it, and after it was slightly erect, he took it into his mouth.

Pleasure and dizziness hit together. Han Lang leaned back, feeling as if he was floating on water.

“After death, one can sleep forever, sleep enough in one go.” After a while, he sighed, grabbed Hua Rong’s hair, and thrust forward forcefully.

Hua Rong choked and coughed, knowing he wasn’t satisfied, so he worked even harder at swallowing and spitting.

Han Lang closed his eyes. After a while, he spoke again: “Big brother, a biological big brother from the same father and mother, do you think he is worth trusting and entrusting?”

Hua Rong hemmed and hawed, indicating he was on duty and couldn’t answer.

“Worth it or not, I have to believe. It’s laughable that I have no other choice.” Han Lang sighed again, sat up straight, found a new interest, and reached out to cover his nostrils.

Hua Rong’s face gradually turned purple, but he remained professional, swallowing, spitting, and circling without missing a beat.

“Dying from holding your breath while blowing the flute, that’s really an interesting way to die.” In the end, Han Lang chuckled, pressed his hand tighter, and exploded just as Hua Rong was about to suffocate, reaching the climax and shooting into his throat.

The official’s ecstasy was more important than his own life. Master Hua was indeed Master Hua; his professionalism was impeccable.

Han Lang was satisfied, took a handkerchief, and wiped his member.

“Blood. Master Hua, is this yours or mine?” After turning the handkerchief over, Han Lang frowned, staring at the patch of crimson on it: “Don’t tell me blowing the flute is so harmful to the body that you actually blew until you vomited blood.”

Hua Rong was stunned, immediately turned around, found a bronze mirror, examined himself left and right, and then started gesturing: “Prince, my complexion is bad, I haven’t got consumption, have I…”

“Or maybe I was crushed by Marshal Pan. Marshal Pan weighs a full one hundred and ninety jin. Could it be he crushed me into internal injuries?” After a while, he started gesturing again: “Prince, I want to see a doctor, I…”

“See, I’ll let you see tomorrow, see if it kills you.” Han Lang whispered, patting the side of his body: “Now you come up first, coax me to sleep.”

Hua Rong immediately got into bed, not looking sick at all, nimbler than a rabbit.

Conversation thus began. Han Lang spoke first, asking idly: “Do you have a brother?”

Hua Rong hesitated, and only after a while did he gesture: “I did, but he died long ago, died of consumption.”

“How did he treat you?”

“He treated me okay, just smarter than me, prettier than me, even had more hair than me.”

“Then what did you do?”

“What did I do? Brotherly love, of course. Pouring foot-washing water into his teacup, smearing chili on the spout of his chamber pot, applying glue to the rim of the toilet. Whatever was friendly, I did it.”

“He didn’t get angry?”

“No, getting angry was useless. Is the title ‘brother’ for nothing? Let him be older than me, stronger than me, serves him right.”

“Indeed serves him right…” Han Lang responded, feeling a little bit sleepy: “Brotherly kindness and brotherly love, this is what you call brothers.”

Hua Rong fell silent, his eyes surging with emotion for a moment.

“Just a little bit more and I can fall asleep. Let’s not press acupoints today, you service me one more time.” After a while, Han Lang said again, rubbing his forehead and temples.

Hua Rong nodded, retreated, and gestured: “This time I definitely won’t dirty the Prince’s precious tool.”

Han Lang laughed loudly, leaned back, and let him serve.

At this moment, someone announced from outside the door: “Reporting to the Prince, General Lin Luoyin has arrived. He says the Prince instructed him to come see the Prince immediately upon returning to the capital.”

Hua Rong was stunned and wanted to let go, but was firmly held down by Han Lang.

“You continue for me.” He said, and started to smile playfully again: “Anyway, you know General Lin too, no need to be shy.”