Chapter 71

(TN: This is a flashback scene.)

In the eleventh month of the eleventh year of Qingzheng, Rong Tang fell gravely ill.

This illness had plagued him in his first life as well, so it wasn’t unfamiliar. Yet, as he gazed at the snow falling outside Tanghua Courtyard, he couldn’t help but feel a gnawing sense of worry.

He had exchanged life-preserving medicine with the system several times and ventured outside, tightly wrapped in layers.

The Imperial Court of Justice’s prison was deep and frigid, a place where the clear sunlight seemed never to reach. Rong Tang’s chest ached with each breath, and he walked to the deepest part of the prison, muffling his coughs as he pushed through the pain.

It was an interrogation cell. Ke Hongxue stood outside the door, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a crimson fox fur cloak draped over his arm. His brows were slightly furrowed as he gazed impassively at a corner where rats had gnawed at what was once either rotten meat or a stale sesame seed cake.

The earth had turned, and nothing could be recognised for what it once was.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Tutor Ke lifted his head. He was slightly surprised upon seeing Rong Tang and asked in a restrained voice, “Is Prince feeling better?”

Ke Hongxue’s opening remark was always the same. Though Rong Tang’s life or death seemed irrelevant to him, the first thing he always asked was, “Are you feeling better?” If the answer was positive, Tutor Ke’s ever-passionate peach blossom eyes would curve into a slight smile; if the answer was less than satisfactory, a hint of melancholy would shadow his expression.

But these emotions were fleeting. In the next moment, Ke Hongxue remembered the reason for their gathering and asked, “What are the Fifth Highness’ orders?”

Rong Tang, his voice lowered, responded that his health was still the same as before. He then lightly shook his head and said, “Nothing from His Highness’ side.”

Only then did Ke Hongxue express his curiosity: “Then why has Prince come to the Imperial Court of Justice?”

The interrogation room was filled with the incessant cries of prisoners, but there was no other sound. Through a crack in the door, Rong Tang glimpsed a tall, upright figure. Sometimes, when he looked at Mu Jingxu’s back, he couldn’t help but feel that this man shouldn’t be in such a dark, bloodstained place every day.

He is like the snow atop the mountains, yet he shouldn’t be so cold. Even snow-capped peaks deserve the beauty of wildflowers.

Rong Tang didn’t know how to warm him, and it seemed no one could.

Looking away, Rong Tang softly said, “It’s going to snow.”

Ke Hongxue was momentarily stunned, confused by the shift in conversation.

Rong Tang continued, “Li Changfu enquired about this some time ago. The Ministry of War is too overwhelmed to manage anything else, and even Marshal Xia is entangled in his own troubles. The Third Prince’s faction has suffered significant losses. I was thinking, perhaps we should suggest that Excellency Mu take some leave to rest?”

Ke Hongxue blinked, taking a moment to process his words before smiling. “I want him to rest too, but do you think he listens to me?”

Rong Tang lowered his head in frustration. “If he doesn’t even listen to you, who else would he listen to?”

Ke Hongxue raised an eyebrow, teasing, “Why does Prince care so much about my senior?”

Rong Tang fell silent, thinking to himself, because he’s going to die soon.

Due to the restrictions imposed by the system, Rong Tang couldn’t reveal anyone’s fate in this world, nor could he expose his identity as a transmigrator.

But he still wanted to make a difference.

If his purpose here is to change the ending of this novel and save Sheng Chengli’s life, then why couldn’t he save others as well?

But it seemed he was powerless to save them.

The wailing from the cell gradually grew fainter. Ke Hongxue pushed himself off the wall and said, “I’ll remind him.”

Rong Tang’s eyes brightened slightly, and he almost thanked him, but Ke Hongxue softly added, “The prison is dark and damp. Someone as noble as you shouldn’t come here again.”

This sudden kindness and seriousness made Rong Tang once again feel a sense of dissonance from Ke Hongxue.

He was showing concern for him, but inexplicably, Rong Tang felt that he was using this concern to soothe his own true thoughts.

Rong Tang’s gaze shifted unconsciously to the thick, dark prison door of the Imperial Court of Justice.

He nodded and was about to leave. “Please give my regards to Lil’ Bro Mu for me.”

“It goes without saying,” Ke Hongxue agreed, but then he asked again: “Rong Tang, what kind of person do you think the Deputy Imperial Censor is?”

Rong Tang was startled but pretended to be calm and enquired, “You mean… Su Huaijing?”

Ke Hongxue gave a slight smile. “Who else could it be apart from him?”

There were two people with the title of Deputy Imperial Censor in Taichung, but in today’s Dayu officialdom, when mentioning Deputy Imperial Censor, everyone would subconsciously assume that it was the nineteen-year-old youth.

First, no one else possesses such an astonishing appearance, and second, within just a year of entering the court, he has become the emperor’s confidant.

The Imperial Censor monitors all officials. Currently, when the officials mention Su Huaijing, everyone feels insecure.

He is a tiger that smiles without baring its fangs.

Rong Tang steadied himself and replied, “He’s a very smart, decisive, and incredibly courageous person.”

“Is that so?” Ke Hongxue murmured softly, his eyebrows drooping slightly as if lost in thought. When he spoke again, he smiled, half-serious: “Excellency Su treats you quite differently.”

Rong Tang was surprised: “How so?”

“Have you ever been to the grasslands?” Ke Hongxue asked. “When a wolf catches a rabbit on the grasslands, its first reaction is often not to eat it immediately.”

Rong Tang felt that this person was talking nonsense again. Mu Jingxu was about to finish the interrogation. He frowned and asked, “Then what does it do?”

Ke Hongxue: “It holds the rabbit in its mouth and shows it off to the pack. If the rabbit is obedient and sensible, the wolf might even raise it, feeding it grass and grain until it’s nice and fat.”

Rong Tang imagined the scene and, with a blank expression, asked, “And then eats it? Like people raising pigs?”

Ke Hongxue laughed: “Prince is quite humorous.”

Rong Tang, however, didn’t think it was his humour; rather, Ke Hongxue’s words could only lead to that conclusion.

So he stared at him quietly for a while. Ke Hongxue slowly let the smile fade from his face. There was a hint of something in his eyes that Rong Tang couldn’t quite decipher—something that seemed like both a warning and advice. He said, “Prince, if one day there is no one left by your side, you might consider seeking protection from Excellency Su.”

Rong Tang frowned. “I have my parents above, loyalty to His Highness, and I work with both you and Excellency Mu. How could I ever end up alone?”

“Who knows?” Ke Hongxue slowly raised his gaze, watching a candle flickering on the wall. On winter nights, there are few insects, yet an early white moth was still circling the flame. “I just think that maybe we all made the wrong choices from the beginning.”

Rong Tang didn’t fully grasp his meaning. The howling from the interrogation room had completely ceased. Ke Hongxue took a deep breath, and in an instant, he reverted to his usual carefree, rakish demeanour. He flung his fox fur cloak over his shoulder, ready to leave.

Rong Tang grew anxious, wanting to remind him not to forget the main task. But Ke Hongxue smiled and said, “I’ll remember to remind Senior, but it’s you, Prince, who truly needs to take care of your paper-thin body.”

Rong Tang didn’t care much. After all, he was only going to use this body for a few more years. Even if he eventually died of illness, it would just be a matter of the body being discarded. The only real issue was the pain he would have to endure along the way, which was indeed annoying.

He wasn’t overly concerned about his body, and that night, he didn’t go in to speak with Mu Jingxu.

After returning to Duke Ningxuan’s residence, he lay in the courtyard for a long time, occasionally slipping into a semi-conscious state. On the day the first snow fell, Rong Tang stared blankly out the window, unsure whether he was waiting for someone to bring news or hoping that no one would come.

He waited all day. Fine snowflakes drifted down gently, and by evening, the moonlight reflecting off the snow made it almost as bright as day.

No one came to deliver bad news, and as Rong Tang felt relieved, his health unexpectedly improved quite a bit.

The heavy snow continued on and off for five days. By the fifth day, he had recovered to his usual state.

He planned to leave the residence, but then he received a visiting card from Lu Jiaxi.

At that time, young Excellency Lu had joined the Ministry of Rites and was responsible for various ceremonial matters. He lowered his head, looking bewildered, and when he saw Rong Tang, he struggled to pull off a pale smile.

Rong Tang instantly felt even more confused than Lu Jiaxi.

Then he heard Lu Jiaxi say, “Your Highness, Senior Mu is gone.”

Ke Hongxue managed all the funeral arrangements by himself. Mu Jingxu’s nominal father was elderly and frail, living far away at Linyuan Academy. The public explanation was that they didn’t want him to have to see his child die before himself, so they kept it hidden from him.

On the day Rong Tang went to pay his respects, Ke Hongxue had changed out of his usual brightly coloured brocades and donned plain white mourning clothes, complete with hemp garments. His attire clearly exceeded what was expected for a mere friend.

Rong Tang had never seen him cry, not even during the condolence visits or the funeral.

Ke Hongxue, always graceful and at ease in the cutthroat world of fame and fortune, handled the funeral with the same effortless elegance. There was hardly a sound of weeping; instead, the atmosphere was as serene and refined as a gentle breeze under a bright moon.

It was extremely quiet and tasteful. He didn’t invite the usual trumpet troupe to play the suona horns*, but instead, monks from Tuolan Temple were brought in to recite the Rebirth Mantra day and night.

(*TN: aka. the Chinese oboe, which is used in festivals, processions, or for military purposes.)

Guests came and went in silence, as if afraid that any loud noise might disturb Mu Jingxu’s passage into the afterlife.

Rong Tang went to offer incense and saw Grand Tutor Ke, who was over seventy, kneeling on a futon, disregarding social rank, kowtowing neatly three times, and offering three sticks of incense. In the corner, a monk chanted obscure Sanskrit. Rong Tang glanced over and noticed that all of their expressions were calm and solemn.

One monk, in particular, caught his eye—a man with a strikingly handsome face and a shaven head with ring scars. His eyes were closed as he quietly recited the Rebirth Mantra, resembling an ancient Buddha in the temple hall whose golden statue had been corroded over the years. Rong Tang took another look, but as soon as he looked away, he could no longer recall the monk’s appearance in his mind.

Su Huaijing stepped through the courtyard gate, walked silently to the coffin, and bowed three times in a measured and proper manner. His actions were neither overly reverent nor disrespectful, resembling more the decorum shown for a common colleague. After offering incense, he was about to leave when his gaze briefly landed on Rong Tang, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he held back.

He greeted Ke Hongxue before leaving. However, Ke Hongxue’s usual smile suddenly darkened, and for the first time, Rong Tang saw a trace of unspoken sorrow on his face.

In a low voice, Ke Hongxue asked, “Excellency Su, will you be in the capital in three days?”

Su Huaijing was puzzled. “Of course I will.”

“Senior must remain in state for three days. If I need to find you after that, where should I go?” Ke Hongxue continued.

Though confused, Su Huaijing still responded, “Tutor Ke, you can find me at the Imperial Censorate.”

Ke Hongxue nodded, stepped aside, and quietly said, “Take care.”

Rong Tang regarded this as a minor incident during the funeral and didn’t pay much attention to it. It wasn’t until Mu Jingxu was buried that Sheng Chengli, in a calm tone, told him: “Tutor Ke went to the Imperial Censorate last night.”

It was snowing again outside, as if the world itself were draped in white in mourning for Mu Jingxu.

Rong Tang knew that Sheng Chengli had doubts, so he went to great lengths to ease his concerns. Two days later, while warming himself by the fire in the courtyard, Su Huaijing unexpectedly entered Duke Ningxuan’s Palace, knocked on his door, and asked with a smile, “Your Highness, care for a drink?”

Rong Tang’s body was actually not suited for alcohol. In his previous meetings with Su Huaijing at the Liujin Parlour, they only drank non-intoxicating fruit and flower wines. But this time, Su Huaijing brought the strongest spirits.

One cup made Rong Tang dizzy, and two cups nearly knocked him out.

He sat there in a daze, watching the flickering candlelight on the table. The light and shadows blurred, and the silhouettes on the wall kept shifting.

Su Huaijing drank cup after cup, seemingly indifferent to the burning taste. He maintained a faint smile, but his eyes revealed emotions that Rong Tang had never seen in his life.

Dejection, confusion, panic, regret, fear, resentment……

These were not the emotions that should appear on the face of the story’s main villain.

Rong Tang, bewildered, instinctively reached out to touch Su Huaijing’s eyes and, emboldened by the alcohol, said, “Are you crying?”

“Don’t cry.”

“You have beautiful eyes. Smile, don’t cry.”

The warmth of Su Huaijing’s skin was soft and smooth, with no trace of tears. Yet Rong Tang was convinced that he was crying, and he babbled nonsensical comforts for a long time until Su Huaijing finally grasped his hand.

In this life, all their conversations had always been brief. Rong Tang never overstepped his bounds to ask about Su Huaijing’s actions, and Su Huaijing never asked about Sheng Chengli’s intentions.

They each walked their chosen paths, occasionally crossing, exchanging smiles and greetings, and then parting ways once more.

Perhaps one day, when they were weary from walking, they might stop in place, and upon seeing the other approach from a different path, they would smile and wave a wine flask, asking, “Shall we stop and gaze at the moon?”

Moonlight, river lanterns, the shimmering waves of the Jinfen River, and a wine that doesn’t intoxicate.

This was the unspoken bond between Su Huaijing and Rong Tang.

But on that day, with the stove, the wing room, the gently falling snow of a winter’s night, and the heart-piercing liquor, Su Huaijing held Rong Tang’s hand for the first time, looking seriously into his eyes, as if he had been preparing for a long, long time. With great resolve, he finally spoke, but his words were so soft that they were nearly inaudible.

“Rong Tang, will you come away with me?”

Forget about protecting whoever you wish to protect, stop dragging your sick body into these intrigues, and give up the schemes and deceptions that you despise.

Stay with me, and I’ll protect you.

Think of it as you being my anchor point, and I’ll reward you.

I’m suddenly so tired……

The charcoal fire crackled in the stove. Rong Tang, drunk, wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

He blinked and softly asked, “What about His Highness?”

…

A moment, maybe a fleeting one.

Under the winter snow and flickering flames, the hands that had intertwined for the first time released their grip, and they never met again in this lifetime.

Those waiting at the crossroads set off on a completely different path.

The author has something to say:

This chapter is about the experience of a second life.