Chapter 64#

Very, Very Annoying#

The official list of successful candidates for the Star Gazing Department was to be posted half a month later. Sang Chiyu continued his regular life of reporting for duty, occasionally hearing news of Su Ruhui from others, saying that he had changed his ways, closed his doors to visitors, and focused on tinkering with his various iron-armored puppets, even sending many to the Ministry of Military Affairs.

Sang Chiyu occasionally received a basket of flowers, placed at the entrance of his office by an unknown person. Sometimes they were peach blossoms, sometimes pear blossoms, all freshly picked, with dew still clinging to the petals. He ordered his men to inquire around if anyone had seen the person delivering the flowers, but the attendants in the guardhouse all shook their heads.

He gradually began to look forward to the daily flowers, his gaze often unconsciously falling on the threshold.

“Who could it be?” he thought. “That person must be very bored.”

Besides flowers, he also received visits from Gao Conglong’s relatives. They sent gold, silver, and silk, asking him to show leniency. He refused the gifts and had the bribers arrested and thrown into the Infernal Prison, where they were given thirty heavy blows according to the Secret Sect’s law. Being so unyielding and impartially rigid, he became increasingly isolated in court, with no one accompanying him to and from court.

Three days later, as he rode his horse along Canglong Street, an old man threw himself under his horse. From then on, troubles kept coming. Memorials impeaching him for riding recklessly and injuring people, and for being arrogant and overbearing, piled up like snowflakes before the Grand Master. He knew that someone was pulling strings, secretly gathering allies to deal with him. These people did not know that he was the Grand Master’s blade, the Secret Sect’s only loyal minister, and these tricks could not shake him in the slightest. However, these petty disturbances were also very annoying. When he passed through the streets, people would always throw eggs at him, and children would set off firecrackers to startle his horse. The gate of the residence granted to him by the Grand Master was painted with vermilion lacquer.

Suddenly, one day, all these annoying disturbances disappeared. The old man who had been demanding compensation from him now nodded and bowed when he saw him. He noticed that people peeking from the roadside, intending mischief, always looked behind him, then shrank their necks and scurried away.

Someone was following him, he knew.

He looked straight ahead, not turning back. The sun was setting, merchants and hawkers were hurriedly packing up their stalls, figures scattered, moving like phantoms. People looked at him, then mysteriously looked behind him. The closer he got to the palace city, the quieter it became. For the last stretch of the road to the palace city, he dismounted and walked slowly. The evening glow was just right, intense as flames, covering the bluestone bricks like a silk tapestry. He felt a burning gaze, closely following him from behind.

He turned his head, his indifferent gaze sweeping across the bustling street.

“Su Ruhui,” he called out.

No one appeared. In the human world under the setting sun, there was a quietness as if it was about to fall asleep.

He turned back and continued walking. Suddenly, footsteps came from behind, rapid like a small drum. He turned around again; the street was empty, still no one, but there was an extra basket of flowers. A basket of brilliant crimson, displaying a silent liveliness on this quiet street.

He stood still, looked at the basket of flowers for a long time, then walked over and picked up the small basket.

Today it was crabapples.

“Boring,” he said.

Half a month later, the official list was to be posted outside the Imperial Astronomical Bureau at noon. It was March, with alternating clear and rainy weather. Today, the sky was gloomy, as if it were about to fall. Seeing that it was about to rain, Su Ruhui had no interest in joining the crowd; someone would surely bring him the news. Besides, he was undoubtedly the top scholar. Su Ruhui went to the Ministry of Military Affairs. The first batch of improved firearms had been completed. With spirit stone powder added to the cartridges, their range, rate of fire, and destructive power were all greatly enhanced.

He inspected the firearms at the Ministry of Military Affairs, noting down areas that still needed improvement. As mealtime approached, the craftsmen all rushed off to eat, leaving him alone in the workshop. The forging furnace blazed, casting a reddish glow on his face. He couldn’t stand the heat, so after writing the last word, he decided to go out for some fresh air. As he walked around the forging furnace, he suddenly heard murmuring voices in the forging room.

“Excellent, I never thought Sang Chiyu had such a handle!” It was the voice of Gao Min, the Vice Minister of Military Affairs. “With this Sang family genealogy, this official will surely expose Sang Chiyu’s unknown origins as a bastard.” After saying that, he was still uneasy and hurriedly asked, “Sang Chiyu is not a son of the Sang family, how confident are you?”

Su Ruhui was secretly startled, unconsciously stopped, and held his breath.

One of the subordinates below said, “Father, have you forgotten? Our aristocratic family genealogies use laid paper, with secret methods to dye and print family crest patterns on them. Each family’s method is different and extremely difficult to forge. The original Sang family genealogy is truly authentic. Your son searched all over for old Sang family servants and finally, guided by an old tomb keeper, found it in the Sang family mausoleum! The Sang clan was wiped out when Sang Chiyu was three years old. As soon as an aristocratic child is born, their name must be entered into the genealogy. Why is Sang Chiyu’s name not on this genealogy? His identity must be fake. The person who forged Sang Chiyu’s identity burned all the Sang family genealogies, but only missed this one that was buried with the Sang family in the coffin. It must be heaven’s will for us to avenge our brother.”

Gao Min was still uneasy, saying, “Sang Chiyu is the Grand Master’s personal disciple, and his identity as a Sang family son was also personally affirmed by the Grand Master. Sang Chiyu’s impersonation of a Sang family son must be related to the Grand Master. How can we contend with the Grand Master?”

Another person below said, “I have a plan! Father, I have already copied hundreds of transcripts. As long as they are spread among the public, and then the original is released after enough momentum is built, even the Grand Master will be powerless to reverse the situation. Sang Chiyu will surely be disgraced and return to his commoner’s den. Without the identity of an aristocratic son, and having made a large number of enemies, even if we don’t seek revenge on him, I’m afraid he won’t live much longer.”

Gao Min said joyfully, “Good idea!”

“In that case, your son will go and instruct the subordinates to distribute the transcripts.”

“Good, good, good! No time to lose, go quickly!”

Su Ruhui hid behind the display shelf, watching one of the Gao brothers tuck a booklet into his怀, and the two hurried out together. Su Ruhui waited for Gao Min to leave, then chased after the two brothers. Thunder rumbled, as if rolling carriage wheels were grinding across the sky, and also across Su Ruhui’s heart. White snake-like lightning flashed across the sky, as if the sky had been torn open.

Su Ruhui stopped the two brothers in the alley behind the Ministry of Military Affairs. The Gao brothers recognized Su Ruhui, but didn’t know why Su Ruhui was there. The two looked at each other and bowed, “What can Young Master Su do for us?”

“Brother Gao Er, what are you hiding in your bosom?” Su Ruhui asked with a half-smile, “May I have a look?”

“It’s just my Gao family’s genealogy, nothing worth seeing. Today, my brother and I have urgent matters, we’ll drink with Young Master Su another day.”

Su Ruhui slowly approached them, “To be honest, I just happened to overhear your conversation with Lord Gao. I’m also very annoyed with Sang Chiyu. You can go and ask around, he specifically makes trouble for me. If you’re going to deal with him, count me in.”

“Don’t come any closer,” Gao Erlang cautiously retreated, “Young Master Su, I advise you not to interfere in this matter. Since you also have a grudge against Sang Chiyu, just wait for the day he is disgraced.”

Seeing this, deception was no longer possible. There was still a chasm between nobles and commoners. Even a secret art user among commoners could only be a slave under a noble. If Sang Chiyu didn’t have the identity of an aristocratic son, with his dog-like temper that made enemies everywhere, he would surely, as the Gao brothers said, be wished dead by everyone.

Once a rumor spread, there would be no end to it. Even without genuine evidence, Sang Chiyu would certainly be severely discriminated against. People never cared about the truth; they only wanted to hear what they wanted to hear. Sometimes the truth couldn’t kill, but rumors could. Sang Chiyu’s current situation was already bad enough, and it would probably get worse in the future. The fact that Sang Chiyu was not a Sang family son must not be known by more people.

Su Ruhui sighed deeply and whispered, “Yu’er, you really know how to cause trouble for your husband.”

He missed that cold guy a little. He hadn’t seen Sang Chiyu for days; Sang Chiyu was busy, and so was he. Someone in court was against Sang Chiyu, making annoying little moves. The Gao family bribed commoners to obstruct Sang Chiyu, so Su Ruhui spent more money to bribe them to behave themselves.

He just didn’t expect the Gao family to hate Sang Chiyu so much that they wanted to ruin his reputation.

The two Gao brothers were stunned, “What did you say?”

Lightning split the sky, and torrential rain poured down from the torn firmament. Su Ruhui suddenly moved, rushing towards Gao Erlang like a leopard. Gao Erlang was startled and took half a step back. Gao Sanlang drew a short knife to block Su Ruhui, shouting, “Second brother, run!”

Gao Erlang clutched his chest, staggering and fleeing out of the alley. Su Ruhui was anxious, and his moves became even more fierce. However, Gao Sanlang had a knife in his hand, and Su Ruhui, fighting empty-handed, was severely suppressed. Su Ruhui regretted not carrying a knife when he went out. He was inherently lazy, found knives heavy, and usually disliked carrying one when leaving home. Su Ruhui gritted his teeth, watching Gao Erlang’s figure disappear further and further away. The heavy rain separated them, and Gao Erlang’s back gradually blurred.

Gao Sanlang roared, and the sharp short knife slashed towards Su Ruhui’s face. Su Ruhui blocked his hand, gritting his teeth to restrain the blade. Gao Sanlang’s veins bulged, and he pressed down hard on the blade. The gleaming tip of the knife was right in front of Su Ruhui’s eyes, getting closer and closer. Large raindrops hit the spine of the knife, shattering into countless ice-flower-like petals, each reflecting Su Ruhui’s grim face.

Su Ruhui had no intention to kill, but this guy did.

He suddenly kicked Gao Sanlang’s lower body. Gao Sanlang’s hand suddenly loosened, and at the same time, Su Ruhui struck Gao Sanlang’s wrist acupoint, forcing him to release the short knife. The short knife indeed flew out of his hand, but at the moment it fell, Gao Sanlang stumbled, uncontrollably crashing into the cold blade. In the blink of an eye, Gao Sanlang lay on the ground, the tip of the short knife protruding from the back of his neck. Su Ruhui froze for a moment, his breath catching, then he turned Gao Sanlang over. His eyes were wide open, and he made gurgling sounds in his throat, his blood-soaked hand clutching Su Ruhui’s collar. Blood gushed out like a spring, flowing into the gutter with the rainwater.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Su Ruhui whispered.

He pushed Gao Sanlang away, wiped the rain from his face, turned around, and walked out of the narrow alley stained with blood.

He was finished. He had accidentally killed Gao Sanlang. He was finished.

Many years later, Su Ruhui still remembered his feelings at that time. He didn’t want to be the adopted son of the Tantai family, nor did he want to be the so-called Grand Star Official. He would rather open a restaurant and live a mediocre life, plain and simple. But when he decided to walk the path they expected him to walk, fate dealt him another blow. His uncle said he was absurd, his senior sister said he was impulsive, and everyone who knew him said he was cynical and never considered the consequences of his actions. He didn’t consider the consequences when he hugged the raging Sang Chiyu at the age of ten, nor did he consider the consequences when he went alone to rescue Sang Chiyu, who was trapped in the enemy camp last year. In fact, it wasn’t that he hadn’t considered them, but he felt that some things just had to be done.

Now everything was irreversible. He knew that either he or Sang Chiyu would be disgraced. He began to wonder what kind of karmic relationship he and Sang Chiyu had. It seemed that ever since childhood, there had always been a choice between one living and one dying. Fate gave him a choice, and he unhesitatingly walked into the abyss.

He looked up at the rain, Gao Erlang running in the rain, people with umbrellas passing by him like phantoms. He kept looking back, seeing Su Ruhui, covered in blood, standing at the mouth of the alley in the distance. This lawless scion, the most dissolute of the dissolute, now looked at him from afar with eyes like a Shura demon.

He felt fear, but then comforted himself that he was safe, because he had run very far. Even if Su Ruhui had a hand crossbow, he couldn’t hurt him; he had already run out of the crossbow’s range.

“Plan pursuit route,” Su Ruhui said in his mind.

[Route planning complete. Success rate of snatching the genealogy: 20.78%.]

The success rate was too low. The fight with Gao Erlang had wasted too much time. Whether he could catch up was one thing, but if he caught up with Gao Sanlang and fought him again for the genealogy, it would likely attract the military police, and then the matter of the genealogy would not be kept secret.

With too many variables, Su Ruhui decided to choose the safest yet most dangerous method. He lowered his head and pulled out a hand cannon from behind his waist. It was one of the first batch of new goods from the Ministry of Military Affairs, which he hadn’t put back when checking for flaws. Anyway, he had already killed one person, so killing another wouldn’t matter. There was only one shot, and he had to hit it. He raised the hand cannon, concentrating all his attention on the sights. Through the sights, he aimed at the frantic retreating figure fleeing ahead. At this moment, time seemed to slow down. Raindrops hung suspended in the air, passersby with various oil-paper umbrellas stepped into puddles, and the splashing water droplets stopped falling.

Raindrops fell along Su Ruhui’s eyelashes, and Su Ruhui thought of a name in his heart.

He pulled the trigger, a fierce spark erupted from the muzzle, and the bullet broke through the rain, whistling out.

Su Ruhui raised his face, the cold rain pattering on his cheeks. He suddenly wanted a drink.

The bullet was flying, and he was silently reminiscing.

“Sang Chiyu, after today, I must be the person you hate the most in this world, right?”

“Sang Chiyu, do you like the flowers I sent you?”

Sang Chiyu held an umbrella, standing outside the crowd, looking at the list posted on the outer wall of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. The torrential rain could not deter the Star Gazing candidates who had studied hard for years, only for this day. Everyone pushed and shoved to get closer to the wall, looking for their names. Sang Chiyu didn’t need to squeeze in, because Su Ruhui’s name was easy to find, at the very top, as Su Ruhui had said, he was first place.

That guy would probably be smug for a long time. Sang Chiyu turned around, ready to leave. He wanted to go back to the guardhouse to check the entrance; he hadn’t received that basket of flowers today. Just as he took a step, a sharp gunshot suddenly rang out from the adjacent street. Many people screamed in terror, “Murder! Murder!”

Sang Chiyu’s expression hardened. He dropped his umbrella and quickly ran towards the source of the sound, his hand on his saber.

Someone was dead on the street, the shooter still at the scene. Pedestrians scattered, clutching their heads, and the street quickly became empty. Sang Chiyu drew his saber and rushed around the corner, only to meet Su Ruhui’s eyes from a distance. That guy was still holding a spirit firearm, covered in blood, and a dead man lay at his feet, his eyes not yet closed. Su Ruhui glanced at him, bent down, pulled a booklet from the dead man’s body, flipped through it, and threw it into the stove under a street-side shack, watching it burn to ashes.

“Are you hurt?” Sang Chiyu asked.

Su Ruhui shook his head, “No, it’s not my blood.”

Sang Chiyu looked at the pale corpse, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Su Ruhui, what are you doing?”

The sound of rain was like a tide, and Su Ruhui’s calm voice came, “The results are out, right? Am I first place?”

“Su Ruhui,” Sang Chiyu walked towards him, “I asked you what are you doing!?”

“Being first place is meaningless now,” Su Ruhui looked directly at him without flinching, “I killed someone.”

The torrential rain poured down, chilling Sang Chiyu’s heart inch by inch.

“Why?”

Su Ruhui opened his mouth but didn’t state the reason. If he told Sang Chiyu that he killed for him, would Sang Chiyu be so moved as to offer himself to him? Probably not. Having been saved by him again, that guy would only rack his brains on how to repay his debt. He suddenly resented those who constantly clamored for Sang Chiyu to repay his kindness. Why couldn’t they change the words of their jeering, changing “repay kindness” to “offer oneself”? This was clearly a story of a hero saving a beauty… no, a handsome man, living happily ever after.

He wanted to be Sang Chiyu’s hero, not Sang Chiyu’s creditor. He didn’t want Sang Chiyu to live his life under the shadow of repaying kindness.

So he put on his usual carefree demeanor, smiling roguishly, “Does killing need a reason? I didn’t like them, so I killed them. This time, the trouble I caused is a bit big. I killed two of the Gao brothers. Their old man only had three sons, and now all three are gone. Their father definitely won’t let me off. Killing an aristocratic son, according to the Secret Sect’s law, means being torn apart by five horses. I killed two, so I’ll probably be torn apart by ten horses. My uncle definitely won’t favor me; at most, he’ll let me die quickly. My grandmother will definitely save me, but this place is too far from Lizhou. By the time the news reaches her and she comes to Biandu, I’ll already be dead.”

Sang Chiyu was drenched and chilled by the rain. All these changes came too quickly, as if it were a dream.

He stubbornly asked, “Why did you kill?”

“I already told you,” Su Ruhui said irritably, “I didn’t like them!”

Sang Chiyu gripped Su Ruhui’s shoulders, gazing into Su Ruhui’s eyes, as if searching for evidence of his lies. Killing always required a reason, perhaps the Gao brothers deliberately provoked him, or perhaps they had ill intentions and Su Ruhui acted in self-defense. Whatever the reason, as long as Su Ruhui said it, he would believe it.

But Su Ruhui didn’t say.

Sang Chiyu asked softly, “Didn’t you say you wanted to change for the better? Didn’t you say you didn’t want me to hate you?”

“Stop talking,” Su Ruhui tried to pry his hand away, “You rode a horse, right? Lend it to me, let me go, before the military police arrive, before the city gates close. Sang Chiyu, will you let me go?”

Su Ruhui used some force, but couldn’t break free. He was held by Sang Chiyu’s shoulders, Sang Chiyu’s palm burning hot like charcoal.

Sang Chiyu’s eyes were so cold and disappointed, but his hands were warm.

Sang Chiyu stared into his eyes, “Do you know that if you leave now, you will never return?”

“I know,” Su Ruhui thought silently. He knew it the moment he killed. Fleeing in fear of punishment, he would no longer be a glamorous aristocratic son in this life, but an unseen criminal. He could no longer pester Sang Chiyu, making Sang Chiyu headache and helpless.

Su Ruhui sighed deeply. Thinking about it, he was really at a disadvantage.

So he had to make up for it.

Su Ruhui suddenly looked up, wrapped his arms around Sang Chiyu’s waist, took a step forward, and kissed Sang Chiyu’s lips.

At this moment, the sound of rain seemed to fade, and everything in the world moved away from them. Sang Chiyu was stunned on the spot. Su Ruhui’s burning lips ground against his, passionately entwined, an experience Sang Chiyu had never had before. His teeth were gently pried open, and in a daze, Sang Chiyu tasted a bitter astringency.

Was it the taste of rain?

Or tears?

“I bullied you again, do you hate me?” Su Ruhui asked at his lips.

Sang Chiyu pushed him away, the bitter taste still lingering on his lips and teeth. Sang Chiyu asked hoarsely, “The flowers were from you, weren’t they?”

“What flowers? You’re so difficult to get along with, and someone still covets your beauty? And from me? I didn’t realize you were so narcissistic.”

Sang Chiyu couldn’t understand the guy in front of him. He had caused a huge disaster, yet he was still carefree, like a rogue begging for a beating.

Sang Chiyu took a deep breath and said, “Tell me the truth, and I will protect you.”

“I bully you, and you still protect me?” Su Ruhui smiled and said, “Don’t you hate me the most? What, are you lying? You wouldn’t like me, would you? Sang Chiyu, you’re really interesting.”

Sang Chiyu’s face was pale. Compared to the casually smiling Su Ruhui, it seemed he was the murderer.

He closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth, “You’re right, I hate you, very, very much.”

“Since that’s the case,” Su Ruhui’s voice was very soft, almost inaudible, “then let go…”

He didn’t let go. His hands seemed welded to Su Ruhui’s shoulders.

Su Ruhui hadn’t intended to risk his life at that time. If he escaped Biandu, the world was vast, and there would always be a way out. But Sang Chiyu’s appearance made him unable to be ruthless. Su Ruhui realized for the first time that he was such a deeply emotional person. He couldn’t help but think, “People have already been killed for him, so what if he dies for him?” Every extra moment was a bonus, every extra moment of lingering was a gain for Su Ruhui.

Su Ruhui smiled, “How about this? Anyway, I can’t beat you, so I won’t fight you. If you let me go, I’ll go. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. I’ll put my life in your hands, tell me your answer.”

Time passed bit by bit, and the sound of rain filled the cold world. The March rain, so torrential, so endless. The two stood silently in the rain, staring at each other like statues. Sang Chiyu felt his heart turn cold. He suddenly had a panicked premonition that he would never receive flowers again.

He silently watched Su Ruhui for a long time, finally making his choice. He took Su Ruhui’s wrist and walked to the horse he had ridden. At the end of the long street, the sound of horse hooves echoed, rolling in like urgent drumbeats; the military police were coming. Sang Chiyu unfastened the Secret Sect standard saber and money pouch from his waist and handed them to Su Ruhui.

Su Ruhui mounted the horse, said nothing, only gave Sang Chiyu a deep look, then whipped the horse and rode away.

Sang Chiyu stood alone in the rain, watching his retreating figure. In the vast world, the distance between the two grew wider.

The military police’s cavalry arrived. The leading officer saw Sang Chiyu and shouted, “By order of the Grand Master, arrest Su Ruhui. Lord Sang, have you seen Su Ruhui?”

Sang Chiyu slowly turned his head, raindrops falling from his long, curled eyelashes.

His voice was quiet and clear, blending with the continuous rain, “I have not seen Su Ruhui, but I have seen twelve bandits.”

“Bandits?” The officer was puzzled, “Where are these twelve bandits?”

He suddenly realized that their group of soldiers was exactly twelve.

Sang Chiyu slowly drew Withered Moon. The demonic gleam of the blade was refracted by the raindrops, its light desolate like a cold moon.

At that time, Sang Chiyu and Su Ruhui did not know each other well enough. Sang Chiyu thought Su Ruhui was a reckless scion; he hated Su Ruhui for breaking his promises and disliked Su Ruhui’s excessive absurdity. Su Ruhui thought Sang Chiyu was a rigid blockhead, adhering to rules meticulously. But neither of them knew that the other was a complete madman. Su Ruhui acted without considering the consequences, and Sang Chiyu never feared the consequences.

The man held his saber, standing still like a withered pine. This was the first time he had disobeyed his master’s orders, and it was for Su Ruhui.

“If this world didn’t have Su Ruhui, it would become as quiet as a tomb, wouldn’t it?” he thought.

Sang Chiyu made a hand gesture, the long saber reflecting his cold face.

“Those who pass this path, I shall kill.”