Chapter 80

Yu was an immense and sprawling city.

As the imperial capital of Dayu, its wealth, grandeur, and vastness were unmatched by any other provincial city.

In the north, the imperial family and nobility resided; the south was home to inns and teahouses; the west hosted taverns, gambling houses, and exquisite residences; while the east was filled with large residential areas.

Thus, when a great fire lit up the cold northern skies during the winter months, it drew the gaze of every passer-by.

Rong Tang was momentarily stunned, unable to react. He turned back and saw the faint smile and scrutiny in Su Huaijing’s eyes. His throat tightened instinctively, and he averted his gaze.

Still somewhat clueless, Lu Jiaxi gaped at the scene outside the building, finally finding his voice amidst the cacophony: “Is that…… the direction of Xuanwu Avenue?”

Mu Jingxu’s face was grim, and he nodded slightly.

That was indeed the direction of Xuanwu Avenue, and further north would be the imperial palace.

He withdrew his gaze and glanced at Su Huaijing.

He didn’t know who had set the fire—it could have been anyone—but the most likely suspect was seated at this very table, quietly looking down at Rong Tang.

But how could that be?

Even Mu Jingxu had no idea which residence the Ministry of Rites had selected for Sheng Chengli. How had Su Huaijing found out ahead of time, and how had he managed to start such a huge fire without alerting the imperial guards?

As this thought crossed his mind, a face suddenly flashed through Mu Jingxu’s mind. He paused, his expression complicated as he looked towards Su Huaijing.

Su Huaijing, finally having the time to focus on other matters, met Mu Jingxu’s gaze and nodded subtly, as though confirming his suspicions.

The table was laden with food, but apart from Lu Jiaxi, hardly anyone had moved their chopsticks. The music and dancing in Fengyue House had stopped, and the guests in Liujin Parlour craned their necks to watch the distant spectacle.

Thick smoke billowed into the sky as a century-old mansion, once steeped in prosperity, was consumed by flames.

The sound of iron hooves echoed down the long street as the imperial guards galloped through the air, and the gathered crowds began to disperse.

A sudden disturbance had gripped the capital. The curfew had been moved forward. Even before the meal was finished, armoured soldiers arrived, urging everyone to return home.

They waited a little longer, only leaving their seats once the firefighters had quickly rushed down the street.

Ke Hongxue summoned a waiter to pack up the remaining dishes for Lu Jiaxi, who, puzzled, touched his stomach, wondering if his senior viewed him as some sort of glutton.

Standing by the horse post outside Liujin Parlour, Ke Hongxue smiled as he bade farewell: “The air is dry. It would be best if Prince returned to your residence soon to avoid further trouble.”

He raised his eyes, giving Su Huaijing a meaningful look, before turning away to coax Mu Jingxu into his carriage.

Almost as soon as they left, the long street fell silent. Guests dispersed, shops closed, and even Fengyue House, usually bustling at night, had half its doors shut.

People might not know exactly whose house had caught fire, but given the direction and the sheer scale of the blaze, everyone understood that even the slightest misstep could have dire consequences for a powerless commoner.

Rong Tang climbed into the carriage, where the warmth of burning charcoal greeted him. With the arrival of winter, Yu was particularly cold. Su Huaijing poured him a cup of tea, speaking nonchalantly: “Tangtang, is there nothing you want to ask me?”

Rong Tang paused, staring at the reflection in his tea, and shook his head: “No.”

Su Huaijing chuckled softly, refilling his cup: “Are you sure there’s really nothing?”

His voice remained gentle, free from the coldness or mockery that he usually showed others, yet Rong Tang could sense that Su Huaijing was not in a good mood.

In fact, he seemed a little angry.

Rong Tang felt inexplicably guilty.

He genuinely didn’t want to ask, but it seemed as though he had no choice.

Taking a sip of tea, he adjusted himself on the cushion Su Huaijing had thoughtfully provided during the bumpy ride. Placing down his cup and clutching the hand warmer, he sought some comfort before finally hesitatingly asking: “How did you know the fire was at Duke Xian’s mansion?”

Seeing his panicked yet forcibly composed expression, Su Huaijing sighed helplessly and answered the unasked question: “Tangtang, are you wondering if I was the one who started the fire?”

Rong Tang: “……” Do I even need to ask anymore?

The system clicked its tongue twice: [His thoughts really align with yours.]

Back when Rong Tang had first returned to the capital, he had pondered how he could alter the plot so that Duke Xian’s mansion wouldn’t be granted to Sheng Chengli by Emperor Renshou.

But none of his ideas seemed foolproof. As someone who had benefited from the Heavenly Way’s favour towards the male protagonist across two lifetimes, Rong Tang knew better than anyone that no matter what, Sheng Chengli would ultimately receive his destined opportunity.

——The only exception was Su Huaijing.

If the opportunity were taken by the main villain, then all they could do as the male protagonist’s aides would be to try to remedy the situation, rather than take it back.

Sometimes, when Rong Tang looked at Su Huaijing through a modern lens, he couldn’t help but think of him as a “bug”—an NPC with independent consciousness that had slipped out of the game’s control.

In this way, the so-called protagonist and questers had become players being manipulated by the NPC who was meant to follow the plot line.

But their relationship wasn’t as simple as that, and so Rong Tang was unsure of what Su Huaijing’s role was in the eyes of Heavenly Way.

He was clearly more suited to being the protagonist, yet he was cast as the villain, rejected by the very world’s order.

As for Emperor Renshou’s granting of Sheng Chengli’s house, Rong Tang had no power or influence in court to stop it openly.

All that remained were clandestine methods, such as…… setting fire to the house.

He had even discussed the feasibility of this with the system. But even setting aside the fact that the mansion was enormous, the fire would have to be started in multiple locations simultaneously to prevent the imperial guards from extinguishing it quickly. There was also another fatal question that kept Rong Tang from acting.

[Are you willing?] the system had asked him.

Rong Tang wasn’t. He wasn’t willing to burn down Duke Xian’s mansion, nor did he have the right to make such a decision for Su Huaijing.

His own home had been taken over. In this vast imperial city, only the house opposite the Eldest Princess’ residence still held any trace of his childhood memories.

Although it was desolate, at least it remained as it always had.

What right did Rong Tang have to destroy it?

But the idea he hadn’t dared to execute had been carried out for him.

Rong Tang remained silent for a long while before he finally met Su Huaijing’s gaze: “So, it was you?”

Su Huaijing curled his lips and asked, “What do you think, Tangtang?”

“……You’re so annoying,” Rong Tang muttered, unable to hold back his soft complaint.

The temperature outside the carriage was freezing, and he huddled himself inside the soft blanket. The candlelight flickered weakly, and he looked at Su Huaijing with bright eyes, a little like a resentful rabbit.

Su Huaijing paused for a moment before breaking into a smile and admitting openly, “I was the one who set the fire.”

Rong Tang remained silent, waiting for the rest of the explanation. But Su Huaijing tilted his head, raising his brow as he asked, “Aren’t you going to ask me how I did it, Tangtang?”

Rong Tang: “……” You’re really annoying!

He choked momentarily, before responding to Su Huaijing’s question, “The Imperial Guard…… Chen Fei.”

This time, it was Su Huaijing who was caught off guard. He paused for a few seconds, then lowered his head and laughed softly, “I told you, you’re far too clever.”

Although it was meant as praise, Rong Tang couldn’t find any joy in it.

Su Huaijing nudged him, “Tangtang, move over a little.”

Rong Tang shot him a glance but obediently wrapped himself tighter in his blanket and shifted to the other side of the carriage. Su Huaijing quickly followed suit, sitting beside him and spreading a new blanket over the two of them, securing Rong Tang’s with his feet.

Bathed in the soft yellow glow of the candlelight, it looked remarkably tender.

Su Huaijing explained slowly, “I saw him outside the Eldest Princess’s Palace on the Dragon Boat Festival. He owed you a favour, Tangtang, so I sought him out and blackmailed him. It’s just an old house that’s been abandoned for years. Even if it accidentally catches fire, it’s hardly worth making a fuss over. All he had to do was make sure there were no patrolling imperial guards near the Duke’s mansion when I made my move. It didn’t cost him anything, and he got to repay a life-saving favour.”

After Su Huaijing finished, he looked up at Rong Tang and asked, “Isn’t that right?”

As soon as he asked, the plan Rong Tang had to nod along and feign understanding faltered for a moment. He sat there wrapped in two layers of blankets, warm all over, but he couldn’t figure out what Su Huaijing was really getting at.

The carriage was cramped, and they were sitting so close that neither could miss the other’s smallest expressions. Rong Tang pressed his lips together and remained silent.

He could sense danger instinctively.

Although Su Huaijing was smiling and leaning towards him like a child seeking warmth, Rong Tang could only feel the danger.

He didn’t respond for a long while, but Su Huaijing showed no sign of impatience. He smiled, saying, “Tangtang, I’ll give you three questions. You’ve used one already, so you’ve got two left.”

Rong Tang fell into a deep silence, confused. Emotionally, he knew Su Huaijing wouldn’t harm him, but rationally, based on everything he knew about him, this felt like the prelude to the main villain’s anger.

The gentler it seemed, the more dangerous it became.

When this sort of danger befell others, it terrified Rong Tang to the point of illness, but when it was directed at him, he felt something strange……

Dangerous, but not lethal.

Su Huaijing was within his control—just sulking, like a small catfish.

For some reason, Rong Tang felt this way.

After some thought, he asked, “Why did you do it?”

Su Huaijing replied, “Because it’s my biao ge’s house.”

Rong Tang: “?”

For a moment, he was tempted to say: Then what else do you want me to ask?

But Su Huaijing smiled and added, “That’s the answer you wanted, Tangtang.”

Just like why ‘Chen Fei’ followed his orders, Rong Tang completed the puzzle himself, like a viewer with omniscient knowledge.

The street grew quieter still, as half the city’s imperial guards rushed to extinguish the roaring fire. Yet the culprit sat in a smoothly moving carriage, surrounded by sandalwood incense, gazing quietly at his little Buddha.

Su Huaijing reminded him, “You’ve got one last question.”

It felt as though he was hinting at something, but as with Su Huaijing’s previous answers, each question had more plausible, logical explanations. Rong Tang wasn’t sure if Su Huaijing wanted him to uncover the truth.

He paused for a few seconds before speaking slowly, “How did you know that house would be given to Sheng Chengli?”

Something about this question struck Su Huaijing. His gaze darkened instantly, and he leaned forward, hands bracing on the seat, their foreheads almost touching in an imposing stance.

Su Huaijing whispered, “Tangtang, you’ve asked the wrong question.”

Rong Tang panicked and instinctively leaned back.

Su Huaijing stared at him hatefully for a long time before finally breaking. He bent down and bit down hard on Rong Tang’s neck.

Rong Tang winced and let out a soft “hiss”, but then the bite’s pressure eased, becoming more of a caress, like the tender grinding of teeth during intimate moments.

Rong Tang couldn’t escape. He could only tilt his head back and let Su Huaijing have his way, his eyes misting over with unshed tears.

Once Su Huaijing had vented his displeasure and jealousy, he released his hold and raised himself up to look at Rong Tang. When he saw the shimmering tears in his eyes, his heart softened.

Even though he had been the one to force Rong Tang to ask questions, in the end, he was the one asking:

“Tangtang, who am I?”

The author has something to say:

In Chapter 19, Tangtang’s inner OS was frightened until he’d fallen ill. When he witnessed what happened to Li Changfu on his way to the latter’s beheading, he fell ill from the shock upon returning home.