Chapter 85

Su Huaijing had an additional cut on his index finger. It was narrow but deep enough. When the medicinal powder was applied, it quickly seeped in.

Rong Tang sat with a cold expression on the beauty couch, watching as Su Huaijing treated his own wound, silent the entire time.

After applying the medicine, Su Huaijing turned to Rong Tang, lifting his delicate face and smiling at him, placing his injured hand in front of Rong Tang: “Tangtang, look, it’s not bleeding.”

Rong Tang gave him a glance but said nothing.

He actually admired Su Huaijing’s hands and appearance.

In terms of looks, the main villain was easily among the top three in the world; and when it came to intelligence, Su Huaijing wouldn’t lose to anyone.

A beauty, as brilliant as spring flowers and autumn moons, standing before you, was bound to move hearts. And this beauty, with his pure hands, manipulated the world’s power struggles like a master.

The intense contrast between Su Huaijing’s elegant exterior and his deadly intellect made all his beauty and charm into potent weapons, irresistible and captivating.

Readers see villains, fans see characters, confidants see companions, rivals see opponents, and even people of the same sex cannot help but notice him. From any angle, Su Huaijing had a face and soul that Rong Tang liked.

This was why Rong Tang hated seeing him injured.

Perhaps it was because, in this life, they first met in Fengyue House—where the mighty villain, who in previous lives was always calm and powerful, was dressed in torn clothing, his leg bound in chains between the bed and chair, unable to move. From that moment on, Rong Tang instinctively felt more protective of him. He didn’t want to see any more wounds on Su Huaijing’s body.

But the injuries kept appearing.

Before attending the flower-picking festival, Su Huaijing cut himself on blades of grass while collecting dew. In Jiangnan, while tending to a disaster area, he was scratched by a stone. He always had strange injuries, none of which were fatal, but they were extremely frustrating to see.

Rong Tang knew Su Huaijing had dangerous tasks to complete, ones that required him to take risks. So even though Rong Tang felt distressed, he was sensible enough not to ask.

But this time, the cut on Su Huaijing’s hand was absurd. It was clearly self-inflicted.

Rong Tang couldn’t understand what kind of grudge Su Huaijing had with himself to drive him to ignore pain and carve such a deep mark on his own hand.

Irritated, Rong Tang didn’t want to engage with him, but Su Huaijing kept approaching, blinking his eyes innocently: “Tangtang—”

“Tangtang gege—”

“Husband—”

“My dear husband—”

“Aren’t you being a bit annoying?” Rong Tang cut him off, lowering his gaze.

Su Huaijing smiled, obediently shaking his head: “Not annoying.”

Rong Tang choked, then asked in frustration: “Do you have a self-harm tendency?”

Su Huaijing: “No, Tangtang, you’re wronging me.”

Rong Tang: “?”

He grabbed Su Huaijing’s wrist, holding up his hand with the freshly-applied medicine, pointing the injured finger towards Su Huaijing’s face: “This is “no”?”

“Aaa—” Su Huaijing blinked, as if just noticing the injury. He nodded earnestly, “This is a “yes”.”

Rong Tang: “?”

He was nearly infuriated by Su Huaijing’s casual attitude. He released Su Huaijing’s hand and turned away, not wanting to look at him anymore.

Su Huaijing lowered his head and poured a cup of hot tea, leaving it to cool before handing it to Rong Tang with both hands.

At first, Rong Tang had no intention of taking it, but Su Huaijing deliberately held the cup with his medicine-applied hand, making it impossible for Rong Tang to ignore. He immediately took the cup, drank most of it in one go, and set it down, glaring at Su Huaijing: “You are so annoying.”

“Tangtang gege dislikes me?” Su Huaijing asked.

Rong Tang was stunned by how easily Su Huaijing twisted the situation. He glared, saying nothing, expressing his anger through his gaze.

Su Huaijing smiled, threw another piece of charcoal into the stove, and finally adopted a serious tone: “I don’t have a self-harm tendency. I didn’t mean to get injured, but something confused and angered me at the time. I spaced out, and when I came to, my hand was like this.”

He added with a hint of pleading: “I really didn’t do it on purpose. Tangtang gege, forgive me.”

Rong Tang was still stuck on Su Huaijing’s earlier words.

He thought back carefully. After returning from Ke Hongxue’s residence yesterday, what could have confused and angered Su Huaijing so much?

Surely it wasn’t because Rong Tang had said that even zombies wouldn’t want to eat his brain.

Unable to figure it out, Rong Tang simply asked: “What was it?”

Su Huaijing seemed surprised by the question, raising an eyebrow: “Tangtang, you’ve never asked me about this before.”

They had an unspoken agreement. Su Huaijing never questioned how Rong Tang knew he was helping Sheng Chengming, and Rong Tang never asked about Su Huaijing’s affairs. They maintained this mutual understanding without needing to spell it out.

This was the first time Rong Tang had initiated a question.

Rong Tang frowned slightly, puzzled: “Didn’t you drop a hint yourself?”

He hadn’t asked before because he didn’t want to intrude and wanted to give Su Huaijing complete freedom. But this time, Su Huaijing had clearly opened the conversation. It felt natural to ask, yet it still earned him a question in return. Rong Tang found this strange.

He responded in disbelief. Su Huaijing, rarely at a loss for words, paused before replying: “Qin Pengxuan hasn’t been here for a long time.”

The response was so out of context that Rong Tang couldn’t tell if Su Huaijing was avoiding the topic or seriously answering.

Qin Pengxuan’s visit to Duke Ningxuan’s Palace was tied to an earlier incident at the flower-picking festival. He’d said something that offended Rong Tang. With Sheng Chengming and Su Huaijing backing Rong Tang, they had eventually agreed that Qin Pengxuan would need to pay a visit to Duke Ningxuan’s Palace to offer a formal apology after the festival.

But on the final day of the flower-picking festival, Rong Tang fainted. Afterwards, he stayed in Yong’an Lane for quite some time before heading non-stop to Jiangnan. During this period, he scarcely returned to Duke Ningxuan’s Palace, let alone had any encounter with Qin Pengxuan, who had happened to pay a visit.

Rong Zheng had mentioned that, initially, Qin Pengxuan frequently came bearing gifts, all of which Rong Zheng accepted without hesitation, piling them up in the storeroom of Tanghua Courtyard. Yet after Rong Tang’s return, he hadn’t seen Qin Pengxuan even once.

He had nearly forgotten about the man, but Su Huaijing raised the issue seriously, prompting Rong Tang to ask in response, “What happened next?”

As he brewed tea, Su Huaijing replied, “I find it puzzling. Is it that Earl Wukang’s young lord no longer wishes to visit, or has the palace rejected his visits? Or perhaps, it’s a bit of both?”

Rong Tang was taken aback for a moment and, after a brief pause, felt a chill run down his spine.

Su Huaijing wasn’t merely offering an offhand excuse; he genuinely found the situation perplexing. In fact, he would likely deduce a larger conspiracy from such a seemingly trivial matter.

In the original novel “The Emperor’s Journey”, the first direct confrontation between the main villain, Su Huaijing, and the protagonist, Sheng Chengli, was closely tied to Earl Wukang’s estate.

Earl Wukang was executed for rebellion, and Sheng Chengli, who had by then moved out of the palace and was residing in Duke Xian’s mansion , accompanied the Third Prince, Sheng Chengxing, to raid the estate. In the crowd that had gathered outside, he spotted Su Huaijing.

When nobles fall from grace, people from nearby streets always rush to witness the spectacle. The throng was massive, so seeing unfamiliar faces wasn’t surprising. However, Su Huaijing’s presence stood out; his expression and air seemed almost detached from the ordinary world.

He simply stood there without saying a word, a faint smile playing on his lips, effortlessly drawing attention.

Sheng Chengli glanced at him several times, unaware that this man would later become his greatest nemesis.

It was the autumn of the tenth year of the Qingzheng reign, when Earl Wukang’s rebellion came to light, resulting in Sheng Chengming’s exile and removal from his title. That same year, the scandal surrounding the Southwest Governor, Zhang Baoshan, and his embezzlement of military funds also came to light.

This was the course of history as dictated by the original novel.

However, Su Huaijing’s absence from Earl Wukang’s estate suggested that even if rebellion was truly afoot, it was too early for him to be suspected.

Rong Tang’s heart tightened slightly. The system prevented him from speaking openly, so he could only follow up on Su Huaijing’s previous statement by asking, “Is there any real difference between those two possibilities?”

“There isn’t,” Su Huaijing replied with a sidelong glance. “In essence, it means that Qin Pengxuan can defy Sheng Chengming’s orders. What I’ve yet to figure out is where he’s getting that confidence from.”

As he spoke, he casually shifted the conversation, asking, “Does Tangtang know?”

Rong Tang instinctively clenched his fist but quickly relaxed and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

Su Huaijing stared at him intently for a long while before smiling. “I thought so.”

Fearing that Su Huaijing would press further, Rong Tang quickly diverted the conversation. “By the way, I haven’t seen His Second Highness in quite some time.”

Su Huaijing dismissed the remark. “His Highness was commended for his disaster relief efforts, and His Majesty holds him in high regard, entrusting him with numerous court duties. He’s already overwhelmed with work. On top of that, the Third Prince’s faction is constantly scheming against him, while Senior Official Zhang harbours deep resentment towards his maternal grandson, stemming from Lu Junxian’s execution. Concubine Yi is pregnant, and Zhang hopes for an obedient grandson whom he can control from a young age. As a result, Sheng Chengming is of little interest to him now. Sheng Chengming is currently beset on all sides and too preoccupied to make an appearance.”

Rong Tang was shocked. “You’re not going to help him?”

Su Huaijing chuckled. “Haven’t I already?”

“If I hadn’t, he would’ve already been devoured by those old foxes. How else could he still manage to shuttle between the six ministries and the court?”

At present, everything Sheng Chengming does risks arousing Emperor Renshou’s suspicion. His only priority is survival, lest he meet an untimely death at the hands of the emperor’s paranoia or the treachery of those around him.

Rong Tang frowned, feeling a sense of regret. He had always thought that among Emperor Renshou’s children, Sheng Chengming was relatively moderate and sensible. He didn’t want to see his character tainted by the battle for the throne.

Observing Rong Tang’s expression, Su Huaijing seemed to guess his thoughts and sighed softly. “It’ll be New Year’s Eve soon. We’ll attend the palace banquet with zumu. When I see His Second Highness, I’ll remind him of a few things. Don’t worry yourself, Tangtang.”

“Alright,” Rong Tang agreed, but then asked in puzzlement, “I don’t quite understand why Senior Official Zhang is so convinced that Concubine Yi is carrying a boy.”

It reminded him of how Rong Mingyu was equally certain that Madam Qian was also carrying a son.

Although the plot does indeed develop this way, how could they be so sure in a time of such limited medical knowledge?

Su Huaijing chuckled. “It’s not certainty, but wishful thinking – driven by their desire to secure power and the family legacy—”

He suddenly paused mid-sentence, prompting Rong Tang to look at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”

Su Huaijing seemed to snap out of his thoughts and shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

He had nearly forgotten – the child in Madam Qian’s womb was doomed to be stillborn after less than three months due to congenital defects. Yet, it had now been five months, and there had been no word of the miscarriage.