Chapter 27#

Kill That Emperor (27)#

Ni Xinyan was completely oblivious to the trouble he had caused Shen Jue. Seeing Shen Jue was fine, he said he had other matters to attend to and hurriedly left the Imperial Medical Institute. After Ni Xinyan left, Shen Jue let out a sigh, thanked the imperial physician, and set off again for the Imperial Household Department.

He had originally intended to save time, but in the end, it took him twice as long.

When Shen Jue returned to Qizhang Hall, he found Lu Li standing outside the hall waiting for him. Seeing him back, Lu Li’s face darkened. “Shen Jue, why are you so late?”

Nothing stays hidden in this palace. The spectacle of the Ning Prince’s heir carrying a young eunuch to the Imperial Medical Institute was nothing short of a marvel. It would likely spread like wildfire by afternoon. Shen Jue thought for a moment and decided it was best not to lie.

He explained everything to Lu Li in detail. When Lu Li heard that Ni Xinyan, the Ning Prince’s heir, had actually taken Shen Jue to the Imperial Medical Institute, he was taken aback for a moment before saying, “Is that so? First, take the clothes back to the room and sort them out.”

Shen Jue acknowledged the order. He first set aside Lu Li’s share of clothes, then carried the rest to his room. Before he could start sorting, Li Feng rushed in and said Murong Xiu was summoning him to the side hall.

When he arrived at the side hall, before Shen Jue could even kneel, Murong Xiu’s teacup came flying at him. He dared not dodge, and the cup shattered just in front of his feet, splashing warm tea onto the hem of his robe.

“Come here.” Murong Xiu’s voice was icy.

Shen Jue lowered his head and carefully stepped around the broken shards on the floor, making his way to Murong Xiu. The moment he stopped, Murong Xiu let out a cold snort. “You still dare to take a detour?”

This left Shen Jue slightly bewildered, as he wasn’t sure whether Murong Xiu was referring to just now—stepping around the broken porcelain—or the detour he had taken on the way to the Imperial Household Department.

Shen Jue thought it over, then turned as if to step onto the shards. But when Murong Xiu saw this, he exploded in anger. “Get out!”

Shen Jue had been inside the hall for less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. As he exited, he couldn’t help but look back. In this life, Murong Xiu’s temper wasn’t just bad—it was bizarre.

The next few days passed peacefully for Shen Jue, but Murong Xiu was far from idle. Murong Xiu was still underage and, according to protocol, had to attend the Imperial Academy every day. Two days earlier, the Eighth Prince had accidentally cracked his head at the Academy. Consort Jing scolded Murong Xiu, as the elder brother, for failing to protect the Eighth Prince, and ordered him to stand outside the Eighth Prince’s hall until the prince woke up.

Several days later, rumors spread through the palace that the Eighth Prince had become a fool. Consort Jing fainted several times from weeping. Murong Xiu went from standing as punishment to kneeling. That same day, the young eunuch who served Murong Xiu closely was given thirty harsh strokes of the board and never returned to Qizhang Hall. Li Feng secretly went to investigate and came back saying the eunuch was permanently crippled.

As for the eunuchs attending the Eighth Prince, they were beaten to death on the spot.

Consort Jing’s drastic actions—especially letting the news of Murong Xiu kneeling as punishment spread—angered the Emperor upon learning of it. No matter what, Murong Xiu was still an imperial prince; how could he kneel before his own younger brother? Moreover, the Emperor ordered a thorough investigation into the Eighth Prince’s injury. It turned out the Eighth Prince had been fooling around, insisting on having a eunuch play horse for him during a break, and had accidentally fallen, hitting his head on a nearby flower bed. The whole incident had nothing to do with Murong Xiu.

Furious, the Emperor ordered the entire Imperial Medical Institute to treat the Eighth Prince, but on the other hand, he confined Consort Jing to her quarters for a month.

But Shen Jue knew the Eighth Prince’s injury couldn’t be unrelated to Murong Xiu. After all, in previous lives, the Eighth Prince had never injured his head, let alone become a fool. Shen Jue guessed it was Murong Xiu’s doing, and his goal likely had something to do with Consort Jing. Now that the Eighth Prince was an idiot, Consort Jing would probably have to court Murong Xiu’s favor in the future.

Sure enough, a month later, as soon as Consort Jing’s confinement ended, she immediately sent her most capable maid to summon Murong Xiu.

Shen Jue’s guess was about seventy or eighty percent accurate. Consort Jing’s biological son had become a fool, meaning he had no chance at the throne. For that entire month, she had been unable to sleep night after night. Her days of imperial favor were long past; now the Emperor only stopped by her palace for a brief visit. The new women entering the palace were as beautiful as flowers—how could she compete for affection? Relying solely on her maternal family was insufficient, and her family depended on her glory within the palace. Now, stuck with a foolish son, what was she to do?

Inevitably, Consort Jing thought of Murong Xiu. She considered herself to have treated Murong Xiu fairly well, especially before the Eighth Prince was born. The Eighth Prince was practically a younger brother to Murong Xiu; when a younger brother gets into trouble, the elder brother naturally should protect him. So Consort Jing summoned Murong Xiu.

The day after Consort Jing summoned Murong Xiu, Qizhang Hall received many fine gifts—all sent by Consort Jing. Along with the gifts came several young eunuchs. Among them, Shen Jue spotted someone who shocked him—Feng Qingbao.

Feng Qingbao was now about the same age as Shen Jue, looking like a little jade dumpling. Because of that face, even Li Feng treated Feng Qingbao with noticeably better courtesy.

As soon as Feng Qingbao arrived at Qizhang Hall, he shot up to become Murong Xiu’s personal attendant. Although he often made mistakes, Murong Xiu never punished him and even affectionately called him “Qingbao.”

Shen Jue and Feng Qingbao were the same age, but their statuses were poles apart. In this life, Feng Qingbao naturally didn’t remember Shen Jue. He only occasionally cast curious glances at Shen Jue when the latter was being punished. But whenever Murong Xiu noticed those glances, Shen Jue would be punished even more severely.

As time went on, even the slow-witted Feng Qingbao realized that every time he looked at Shen Jue, Shen Jue would be punished. So he stopped looking at Shen Jue to avoid getting him into trouble, because he always found Shen Jue pitiable when being punished.

Not long after the incident at the Imperial Household Department, Shen Jue met Ni Xinyan again. That day, Shen Jue was ordered to pick flowers in a garden beside Qizhang Hall, to dry them for winter tea brewing. The garden was not like the Imperial Garden; few people came there. So Shen Jue carried his basket, picking flowers as he walked, his attention almost entirely on the blooms. That’s how he accidentally stepped on someone.

The person he stepped on sucked in a sharp breath. Shen Jue, feeling he had stepped on something, quickly pulled his foot back and looked down.

Ni Xinyan was lying sprawled on the ground in a dark ink-colored official robe. When he saw Shen Jue, he propped himself up on one hand and half-sat up, a harmless smile spreading across his handsome face. “It’s you, little one.”

Shen Jue “whooshed” back two steps and first offered Ni Xinyan a proper greeting.

Ni Xinyan glanced at the basket in Shen Jue’s hand, curious. “You’re picking flowers? For a petal bath? Won’t that attract bugs?”

Shen Jue: “…”

He’d almost forgotten—the Ni Xinyan of this era was a complete martial brute.

Ni Xinyan’s father, Prince Yong, came from a military background. After outstanding military achievements, he was granted the title of a prince of a different surname. As Prince Yong’s only son, Ni Xinyan grew up in military camps. Unlike the noble youths of the capital, he was raised entirely as a soldier, later spending several years at the border. This was also why he would later fall in love with Murong Xiu at first sight. Ni Xinyan was used to rough, rugged men; the first time he saw someone as exquisitely delicate as Murong Xiu, his heart stirred.

It was only after Ni Xinyan became the regent that he gradually shed his ruffian demeanor.

“They’re not for bathing. They’re for brewing tea.” Shen Jue took a flower from the basket and explained to Ni Xinyan, “After drying this flower, you put it in a jar and use it for tea in winter.”

Ni Xinyan raised an eyebrow, got up, took the flower from Shen Jue’s hand, held it up to the sunlight, then chuckled lightly and tossed it back into the basket. “What’s so good about tea? Wine is better. Have you ever drunk wine?”

Shen Jue had a headache. Who would ask a ten-year-old child if they’d ever drunk wine?

Actually, he had—just not in this body.

“Your servant has never drunk it.” As soon as Shen Jue finished speaking, Ni Xinyan’s hand landed on his head. With Ni Xinyan’s height, the hand fit perfectly. “How can a man never have drunk wine? I was drinking at seven. Come on, I’ll take you for a drink.”

Shen Jue pressed his lips together. “Your servant is not a man.”

“How can you not be…” Ni Xinyan’s voice cut off abruptly. His gaze drifted downward. After a moment, he coughed awkwardly. “It’s fine. It’ll grow back later.”

Shen Jue: “…”

Is it fun to fool a child?

Shen Jue had patience for playing games with Murong Xiu, but none for dragging things out with Ni Xinyan. After all, Ni Xinyan wasn’t the master of this realm. So he put on a stern face and said, “Your Highness, your servant still has flowers to pick. If you have matters to attend to, please go ahead.”

The teenage Ni Xinyan seemed not to understand human speech. “I’ve got nothing to do. Want me to help? I’m free anyway.”

Shen Jue flatly refused him. Ni Xinyan didn’t show any displeasure but simply sprawled back onto the ground.

Luckily, Shen Jue had cultivated the Way for many years and had seen all kinds of strange people. Seeing Ni Xinyan lie down again didn’t surprise him. He simply picked up his basket and walked in the other direction. Once Shen Jue was far away, Ni Xinyan sat up again.

He stared at Shen Jue’s retreating back with a puzzled expression. People in this palace either looked at him with fear, disgust, or surprise. But this little eunuch—aside from being stunned the first time he saw him—had been trying hard to brush him off ever since.

Yes, Ni Xinyan could tell Shen Jue was brushing him off.

Although he looked like a fairly obedient servant, there wasn’t a shred of respect in his eyes—only indifference.

And another thing: when the little eunuch saw him lie back down, he wasn’t surprised at all.

Why?

Shouldn’t a normal person ask why he was lying there?

That way, he could say he thought the scenery was nice and lying in the sun felt great.

But that little eunuch didn’t ask.

…

Shen Jue walked ahead, feeling the burning gaze on his back. He considered it briefly, then dismissed Ni Xinyan from his mind. The current Ni Xinyan was too weak to warrant attention.

In three years, Ni Xinyan would become a completely different person.

But although Shen Jue wanted to ignore Ni Xinyan, Ni Xinyan seemed determined to thwart him. He trotted over to stand in front of Shen Jue. “Since you’re picking flowers for tea, your master must be a refined person. Is he a prince? Could I visit?”

Without thinking, Shen Jue replied, “No.”

Ni Xinyan was taken aback. “Why not?”

Shen Jue paused to think. “My master is shy of strangers.” He hesitated, then added, “Like your servant.”

How could he let Ni Xinyan meet Murong Xiu ahead of time?

But Ni Xinyan’s words struck a warning bell in Shen Jue’s mind. The current Murong Xiu had his memories. Naturally, he remembered Ni Xinyan and knew it was Ni Xinyan who had helped him ascend the throne.

Back when Shen Jue was cultivating, one of his fellow disciples loved reading mortal storybooks. He would sometimes force Shen Jue to listen. One story was about a woman who died tragically and was reborn to seek revenge, while also staying with the person who had truly loved her in her past life.

Right now, Murong Xiu hating him didn’t matter. But if Murong Xiu fell in love with Ni Xinyan, Shen Jue would truly have no chance left.

But how could he prevent it? Even if he spoke, Murong Xiu probably wouldn’t believe him.

Shen Jue’s gaze involuntarily shifted to Ni Xinyan. If Ni Xinyan didn’t fall in love with Murong Xiu in this life, would his own chances increase?

Ni Xinyan suddenly noticed Shen Jue staring at him with burning eyes. He was startled, then heard Shen Jue ask, “Your Highness, is wine really better than tea?”