Chapter 35#

The bright moon was high in the sky, and the night sky after the rain seemed to have been washed clean. The stars were even more brilliant, and the bright moon hung clear and cold, its soft moonlight spilling over the earth.

The courtyard was brightly lit with candlelight. Fang Zhixu, Jing Fei, and Ji Wuyou were already tipsy. The wine of Great Chu was indeed strong. Seeing that Fang Zhixu couldn’t drink much, Ji Wuyou, in the name of training his tolerance, pulled him to drink several cups. Then he discovered that Jing Fei’s tolerance wasn’t great either, so he pulled Jing Fei along as well. Finally, he ended up drunk himself.

Lin Huaiyu looked at the group slumped over the dining table and instructed Lin Fei: “Send them back.”

Lin Fei thought for a moment and pointed at Ji Wuyou, asking: “What about this one?”

Lin Huaiyu glanced at him: “Do you really think he has nowhere to go? Send him to wherever he’s staying.”

Lin Fei gave an embarrassed laugh: “Yes.”

He carried two in his hands and one on his shoulder, leaving the courtyard to send the three of them back separately.

The courtyard suddenly became much quieter, with only the slight crackling of the flickering candlelight.

Lin Huaiyu supported himself to stand up and walked slowly into the courtyard.

Seeing this, Su Yang wanted to move. He had just taken a step when he realized his clothes were wet. Every step he took left a trail of water. If he went over, he would surely transfer the dampness to Lin Huaiyu.

He hesitated for a moment. Lin Huaiyu had already walked into the courtyard, not even sparing him a glance as he passed by.

But Su Yang saw the flush on Lin Huaiyu’s face.

Lin Huaiyu was also not good with alcohol. Although he was ill and no one dared to force him to drink or even let him drink, Lin Huaiyu had been curious about Great Chu’s fine wine just now and had only taken a single sip.

However, Great Chu’s wine was too strong. Even one sip was enough for someone with low tolerance to feel the intoxication.

Su Yang turned and left the courtyard.

Lin Huaiyu lay on a lounge chair. The moonlight spilled over him, as if covering him with a soft gauze quilt. His ink-black long hair seemed to shimmer with silver light under the moon, like a banished immortal fallen to the mortal world.

He lay there for a while. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard movement in the courtyard. Lin Huaiyu thought Lin Fei had returned and said without opening his eyes: “Are they all delivered?”

The newcomer didn’t speak but walked to Lin Huaiyu’s side. Lin Huaiyu immediately opened his eyes and met Su Yang’s gaze.

Su Yang had changed into clean robes and was holding a bowl of soup. He knelt down again, level with Lin Huaiyu, and handed the soup to him: “I’ve brewed some hangover soup for you. Have some.”

Lin Huaiyu cast a brief glance at the soup in Su Yang’s hand, then withdrew his gaze and turned his head to the other side, clearly having no intention of drinking it.

Looking at Lin Huaiyu, who was as adorable as when he refused to take medicine, Su Yang curled his lips slightly and coaxed again: “Have a little. You can’t handle alcohol, and that Great Chu wine is extremely strong; one sip is enough to make a person drunk. If you don’t drink the hangover soup, be careful of a headache tomorrow.”

Lin Huaiyu’s voice was somewhat cold: “It’s none of your business.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Su Yang’s eyes, but he coaxed again: “I know you’re angry with me. You can hate me, I’m at your disposal to beat or kill, but don’t take it out on yourself.”

Lin Huaiyu let out a cold laugh and turned back to look at Su Yang, his eyes filled only with a light as cold as the frost moon: “I wouldn’t take it out on myself for your sake. Su Yang, no matter what your purpose for coming here is, go back to the capital. I don’t want to kill you, nor do I want to beat you. I only want to have nothing more to do with anything in the capital, including you, from now on.”

Su Yang’s hand holding the hangover soup tightened suddenly, his fingertips nearly turning white. He looked at Lin Huaiyu for a long time and said: “I don’t want to leave. Teacher, wherever you are, I will be. If you’re afraid I’ll do something to you again, rest assured, I will never hurt you again or do anything you’re unwilling to do.”

Lin Huaiyu gave a light laugh, a laugh full of mockery.

Su Yang knew Lin Huaiyu didn’t believe him.

Any more explanations at this moment were useless. He could only look at the hangover soup in his hand, took a sip first, swallowed it, and then held it to Lin Huaiyu’s lips: “I’ve drunk it, it’s not poisoned. Teacher, have some.”

Lin Huaiyu could indeed feel his intoxication, and his head was a bit dizzy. He looked at the hangover soup Su Yang held to his lips and finally took two sips.

The hangover soup with ginger also had a bit of sweetness; it didn’t taste bad. But Lin Huaiyu only drank a few mouthfuls before setting it aside.

Seeing this, Su Yang continued to patiently coax Lin Huaiyu: “Have a bit more. Drinking just this much won’t have much effect; you’ll still have a headache when you wake up tomorrow.”

Lin Huaiyu glanced at him but didn’t speak.

Su Yang held the spoon to Lin Huaiyu’s lips and whispered softly: “I’ll feed you, just a little, ah—”

Watching Su Yang coaxing him like a child, Lin Huaiyu couldn’t help but find it amusing, yet he still said intentionally: “It turns out Your Majesty also has such a patient side.”

Su Yang froze on the spot, his movements stiffening. He could only offer a pale and weak explanation: “I’m sorry. At that time, I just cared about you too much. I wanted to keep you, I wanted to possess you, but I didn’t have any other way to keep you by my side. I know, it’s all my fault.”

Lin Huaiyu laughed again and asked him: “Are you blaming me?”

Su Yang raised his eyes, somewhat confused: “Blaming you?”

What could he blame Lin Huaiyu for? What would he dare to blame Lin Huaiyu for?

Lin Huaiyu lowered his eyes and said calmly: “Blaming me for not teaching you how to treat someone with sincerity? The intrigues of the court, the insidious schemes, the art of kingship, the strategies of diplomacy—I taught you all of it, and you learned very well. Only this… I never taught you. Are you blaming me?”

Su Yang shook his head hurriedly: “How could I blame you? Teacher, I…”

“Since you don’t blame me, then return to where you belong. Between you and me, there is nothing left,” Lin Huaiyu interrupted him.

Su Yang said in a panic: “No, it’s not like that, it won’t be gone… I… Teacher didn’t teach me, so can I learn now? Teacher, you now teach me, is that okay?”

Lin Huaiyu looked at Su Yang with a complex expression and said: “You and I are no longer teacher and student. I have nothing left to teach you.”

Su Yang pursed his lips and said: “Then you can teach Fang Zhixu, but not me? Is my talent not as good as his? If you won’t teach me this, are you going to teach him instead?”

Lin Huaiyu looked at Su Yang for quite a while, until Su Yang almost wanted to slap himself. How could he speak to Lin Huaiyu like that again?

Just as he was about to apologize, Lin Huaiyu moved first. Lin Huaiyu reached for the hangover soup in Su Yang’s hand. Su Yang thought Lin Huaiyu was willing to drink a few more sips, but the corners of his lips that were about to rise fell in the next second.

Clatter—

The crisp sound of porcelain smashing against the ground was pleasant to the ear. The splashing shards even scratched Su Yang, but he remained kneeling by Lin Huaiyu’s lounge chair, letting the fragments scatter around him.

Lin Huaiyu looked at Su Yang, withdrew his hand that was suspended in the air, and also withdrew his gaze.

The shards all over the floor interrupted their conversation. Lin Huaiyu seemed to not want to look at Su Yang anymore and lay on his side.

Su Yang stood up from the ground, ignoring whether the shards pricked him. He leaned down, wanting to carry Lin Huaiyu. Feeling him approach, Lin Huaiyu’s eyes turned cold: “What are you doing?”

Looking at Lin Huaiyu’s wary appearance, Su Yang felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t want Lin Huaiyu to look at him with such eyes—filled with rejection, hostility, loathing, and defensiveness.

But in the end, he could only stand there and explain: “Shards are scattered all over the floor. I’m afraid you’ll get pricked if you step down later. Let me carry you into the room.”

Lin Huaiyu’s gaze was cold, his whole body seemingly coated in frost. Su Yang had seen that indifference that kept people thousands of miles away once before. When Lin Huaiyu’s wings were clipped and his power stripped by him in the capital, and everyone avoided him like the plague, he had this same posture.

But at that time, Lin Huaiyu’s indifference was only for others, not for him.

Now, Lin Huaiyu’s indifference was directed at him.

Su Yang looked dejected, but since Lin Huaiyu forbade it, he could no longer force him. He could only take a step back, crouch down, and pick up the shards.

Lin Huaiyu ignored him, closed his eyes, and fell asleep on the lounge chair.

Su Yang then lowered his noise, finished cleaning up the shards, and stood not far from the lounge chair, just watching Lin Huaiyu like that.

The wind picked up at night, and Lin Huaiyu was drunk. Su Yang took off his outer robe and gently approached Lin Huaiyu. The other was truly asleep; he didn’t open his eyes again to stare at him defensively even when he approached.

Su Yang covered Lin Huaiyu with the robe and looked at him deeply for a long while, the obsession in his eyes overflowing like a tide.

He wanted to keep watching Lin Huaiyu like this forever, even if he did nothing.

Su Yang watched Lin Huaiyu until the sky grew bright and the sun was about to rise from the east. Lin Huaiyu had slept very soundly this time, though it was unclear if he wasn’t afraid of what Su Yang might do to him or if he simply didn’t care.

Su Yang thought it was likely the latter. Lin Huaiyu now seemed not to care about his own life, but the more it was so, the more it pained Su Yang’s heart.

He glanced at the sunlight that was about to emerge, brought a clothes rack out from the room, and hung the robe on it to shield Lin Huaiyu from the sun.

Only after doing all this did Su Yang leave reluctantly.

Back at the county office, Su Yang took out the storybook he had bought yesterday.

He looked at the title “Twelve Styles of Pursuing One’s Wife.” Originally, he hadn’t taken it to heart, but he truly didn’t know how to treat Lin Huaiyu anymore. In the current situation, simply admitting his mistakes was useless. Lin Huaiyu was bent on drawing a clear line with him; what exactly could he do to mend their relationship?

Lin Huaiyu had never taught him, and no one else could teach him either.

His mother had passed away when he was born, and his imperial father was even less fit to be a parent, throwing him into the Cold Palace and ignoring him. Although he was a prince in name, in reality, everyone in the palace knew he was lower than a servant. Whenever those servants were slighted by some consort or punished elsewhere, they would all run to the Cold Palace to vent their anger on him. Whether they starved him, fed him spoiled food, or beat him, no one cared. No one cared how he was doing. They all knew he couldn’t see his nominal imperial father and couldn’t complain. Those palace people had a hundred or a thousand ways to keep him from leaving the Cold Palace. Even if he did get out and saw the late Emperor, that man wouldn’t spare him a single glance.

Consequently, those palace people only grew more aggressive.

But after all, they didn’t dare to actually kill a prince. They used every means to torture him and vent their anger on him, but they didn’t dare kill him. Su Yang had also fought back with his life back then, had escaped, and wanted to survive—until he met Lin Huaiyu.

That person was like a beam of light, illuminating his dark and murky life, pulling him out of the infinite hell. He was a touch of warmth in winter, burning brighter and brighter in his heart until finally, it could never be extinguished.

Su Yang closed his eyes and opened the storybook in his hand.

The core essence of the Twelve Styles of Pursuing One’s Wife: Be a dog for the person you love.