Chapter 87

After having dinner in Yong’an Lane, Rong Tang stared eagerly at Su Huaijing, his hopeful expression barely concealed. Mu Jingxu was somewhat surprised and signalled with his eyes for Su Huaijing to agree quickly.

Su Huaijing sighed helplessly.

As expected of Tangtang, not only did he manage to make himself the object of everyone’s affection, but even his xiong zhang, who had only known him for half a year, now seemed entirely willing to indulge him.

He curled his lips slightly and asked Ke Hongxue, “There’s a new gambling house in the city. Does Tutor Ke fancy going for a look?”

Ke Hongxue had been pondering over which courtyard in Tangjing’s residence would make a suitable spot for him and his senior to crash and have meals in the future. Hearing this, he paused momentarily, blinked, and looked inexplicably at Su Huaijing, but before he could respond, Rong Tang’s eager gaze caught his attention.

The Third-rank Scholar was momentarily dumbfounded but then broke into a smile, nodding. “It would be my pleasure.”

The capital’s Third-rank Scholar was known far and wide as a charming and talented figure. It seemed only natural for him to attend the opening of a gambling house.

The group travelled westwards towards the city, with the Jinfen River behind them and Fengyue House just a few shops away. As the carriage entered Shuiling Street, they could already hear the bustling commotion from afar, and the lively, smoky atmosphere of the streets filled the air.

With the New Year fast approaching, it was both the busiest and the most leisurely time of the year. The sons of wealthy families were on holiday from school, and wandering through the capital in twos and threes at night was a joy in itself.

Rong Tang was a little excited.

Even in his three lifetimes, he had rarely ventured into gambling houses. If he truly went in with Ke Hongxue this time, he might stumble upon a plot event, and, inevitably, the focus would once again shift to the male protagonist.

It was only at that moment that Rong Tang realised he had never truly lived for himself in his previous two lives.

Though he had undertaken tasks in exchange for a healthy body and the promise of reincarnation, all his actions and stories had revolved around Sheng Chengli. He had become more of a tool, used by others at will, his emotions and experiences unheeded.

Thankfully…… he still had this last life.

At first, Rong Tang had felt exhausted, unwilling to play the saviour anymore, and too weary to care about Sheng Chengli. The only one he found hard to let go of was Su Huaijing.

From the moment Su Huaijing appeared in the original story, Rong Tang had been captivated. He only wanted to help him. As for his own life or death, Rong Tang was rather indifferent.

But as the journey progressed, he found himself avoiding thoughts of life and death, yearning instead to live fully and indulge in this third chance at life, not to waste it.

Leaping from the carriage, he rushed towards the gambling house with excitement. Su Huaijing reached out to stop him but missed, momentarily stunned.

He rubbed his fingers together, watching Rong Tang’s retreating figure, and shook his head with a helpless smile.

Ke Hongxue gently supported Mu Jingxu, concerned that the cold night air might harm him. Su Huaijing glanced back, then followed in Rong Tang’s footsteps.

Most of the buildings along the street were three-storey wooden structures, but this gambling house stood out with four floors, its roof higher than the others.

It was called “Yu Zhong Qiu,” and even the simplest dice were carved from jade. The thin playing cards, when touched, revealed themselves to be made from delicate sheets of gold and silver, meticulously crafted into the small objects now held in the gamblers’ hands.

The whole place exuded an air of wealth, luxury, and hedonism unmatched elsewhere.

Inside, the lights were brilliant, and everywhere, guests wore expressions of ecstatic madness.

Some had gambled away everything, sitting pale and dazed. Soon, a servant approached, whispered something into their ear, and led them upstairs.

When they returned, their spirits seemed to have lifted, clutching piles of chips as they threw themselves once more into the gambling tables.

Rong Tang stood in the centre of the hall, somewhat bewildered.

Su Huaijing appeared behind him, took hold of his wrist, and asked with a warm smile, “What does Tangtang want to play?”

Rong Tang glanced around, a growing sense of unease gnawing at him. He turned and looked at Su Huaijing, catching the faint smile on his lips, and his expression turned suspicious.

Su Huaijing asked, “What’s wrong?”

Rong Tang hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is this gambling house yours?”

Su Huaijing raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised, and asked in return, “Why would you think that?”

Rong Tang: “……”

Right, it’s yours.

He had almost forgotten. This gambling house, like the Shudao Pavilion, which now specialised in hotpot, hadn’t existed in his previous two lifetimes.

Every life had its butterfly effect. Even while travelling through the currents of time, subtle differences would emerge.

For instance, a couple who had married in the first life became enemies in the second; an old man who sold candied hawthorns and had died in a reckless street-racing accident in one life lived to enjoy a peaceful old age surrounded by grandchildren in the next.

Apart from the characters bound to the plot line by predetermined fate and narrative necessity, most ordinary people in this world had their lives changed by the smallest decisions. This was the norm.

These changes gave Rong Tang hope, and amongst the main characters, Su Huaijing brought about the most profound butterfly effect.

He never followed the established storyline, yet somehow always ended up achieving the original ending.

Initially, Rong Tang had thought this was simply another form of being constrained by the plot. No matter how much effort or change he brought about, the characters could never escape the destiny assigned to them by the author.

But after delving deeper into Su Huaijing’s motivations and actions, Rong Tang realised that wasn’t the case.

Everything Su Huaijing did was for his own benefit.

It wasn’t that the author had imposed a fixed ending on him, but rather that Su Huaijing needed to achieve that ending for himself. So, no matter how many obstacles and trials the author threw at him, he would always find a way to reach his destination.

Rong Tang sometimes wondered, in the book “The Emperor’s Journey,” was it the author controlling the characters, or had the characters’ wills begun to influence the author?

If the logic within a novel’s world is complete enough to create an autonomous system, then might the reverse not also be true……

“What are you thinking about?” Su Huaijing interrupted his thoughts.

Rong Tang blinked, looked up at him, and saw the unmistakable concern on Su Huaijing’s face.

Puzzled, Rong Tang asked, “What’s the matter?”

Su Huaijing stared at him for a moment, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

He didn’t tell Rong Tang that, in those few moments of contemplation, a strange aura had enveloped him.

Despite being in the midst of the busiest gambling house in the city, Rong Tang seemed utterly detached, untouched by any grime or worldly filth.

That otherworldly detachment, the sense that he couldn’t belong to this world, crept back into Su Huaijing’s mind, sparking an unconscious wave of panic.

He gripped his hands tightly together but didn’t reveal to Rong Tang what had just frightened him.

Ke and Mu followed from behind, catching Rong Tang’s reply to Su Huaijing’s previous question: “I guessed.”

Ke Hongxue, puzzled, asked, “Guessed what? Guessing in a gambling house—did Shizi and Shizi Fei place a bet?”

Rong Tang had been eager earlier, but now, distracted by the chaos of his thoughts, he had lost interest in playing.

Su Huaijing asked, “Shall we go upstairs?”

Rong Tang hesitated, then nodded after a few moments.

Ke Hongxue, still unsure, began to understand when, as they reached the quieter upper floors, two hulking guards at the fourth floor stairs bowed respectfully and gave way upon seeing Su Huaijing. At that moment, Ke Hongxue realised what Rong Tang had guessed.

He subconsciously turned his head to look at Mu Jingxu, only to catching the fleeting surprise on his face, which quickly faded, replaced by a shadow of concern between his brows.

Mu Jingxu, ever protective of his didi, couldn’t hide his worry. Ke Hongxue sighed inwardly, stepping closer.

On the fourth floor, several private rooms had been prepared, with the owner’s quarters at the far end.

Su Huaijing led them in, where tea had already been brewed.

The window was positioned unusually, and Rong Tang, glancing absentmindedly, froze as his pupils contracted.

[That is the imperial palace], the system reminded.

From halfway across the city, standing atop the tallest building on Shuiling Street, he could see the entire palace bathed in light.

The dazzling palace was laid out before them, unmistakably.

Everyone, not just Rong Tang, noticed the oddity. Ke Hongxue raised an eyebrow, while Mu Jingxu frowned disapprovingly.

Ke Hongxue sat with a smile, took the tea Su Huaijing handed him, and casually asked, “Who manages this gambling house?”

Su Huaijing replied, “The performer Tangtang saved at the flower-picking festival, Su Lian’er.”

Ke Hongxue was startled, and after thinking about it carefully, he remembered that he was talking about the performer Sheng Chengxing once brought to embarrass Sheng Chengli.

Lowering his head, he chuckled, “So, she’s with you now.”

Rong Tang was no longer surprised. Rescuing Su Lian’er and sending her to Yong’an Lane was Su Huaijing’s signal, indicating he could handle it as he wished. Wherever this chess piece was used later, Rong Tang wouldn’t be taken aback.

From what Su Huaijing had said, Rong Tang had already guessed why losing gamblers were escorted upstairs, and why there were so many small private rooms on the fourth floor.

He stood by the window with his tea, gazing from the distant palace to the nearby bustling streets.

Carriages streamed endlessly along Shuiling Street. Was there a snowstorm coming? The ground seemed covered with a layer of white.

Ke Hongxue spoke again: “Let me guess: a gambling house on the surface, but secretly an information-gathering centre? What interesting tidbits has Young Master Su picked up in just a few days?”

Su Huaijing asked, “Would Tutor Ke like to know?”

Ke Hongxue smiled, “I was born curious.”

Su Huaijing’s gaze lingered on Rong Tang as he answered, “Bring money.”

Ke Hongxue blinked in shock, but Su Huaijing continued, unfazed, “Or trade information.”

The Third-rank Scholar, speechless, sipped his tea before earnestly suggesting, “You really should come back to Jiangnan with me and do business.”

Su Huaijing offered no response. Mu Jingxu, silent until now, asked, “Is there danger?”

Su Huaijing chuckled, “Worried that a bunch of gamblers will endanger me? Xiong zhang underestimates me.”

Though Mu Jingxu didn’t speak further, his expression still betrayed some concern. Meanwhile, Su Huaijing and Ke Hongxue seamlessly transitioned into discussing capital secrets.

Mu Jingxu listened quietly, while Rong Tang continued gazing out at the city. Neither of them interrupted the conversation.

It wasn’t until the sky began to snow again, and the temperature dropped, that Ke Hongxue rose to leave, intending to take Mu Jingxu back to Yong’an Lane.

Before leaving, he asked if Rong Tang wanted to join. Su Huaijing smiled and shook his head, “Tangtang will stay with me.”

The door opened and closed, leaving the room quiet.

Downstairs, gambling games were in full swing. Upstairs, Rong Tang spoke softly, “You once said that reading people’s hearts is the most dangerous path.”

Su Huaijing replied, “If you don’t enter the tiger’s den, how will you get the tiger’s cub?”

Rong Tang realised once more that this person had two sets of standards—one for himself, and one for him.

Curious, he asked, “What does it feel like, looking out from here?”

Footsteps approached from behind. Su Huaijing came up, arms wrapping around Rong Tang’s waist, his chin resting on his shoulder. He pointed to the light sources scattered across Yu capital, then towards the never-sleeping northern city.

Stretching for miles, the lights glittered in harmony yet were as silent as the abyss.

Su Huaijing whispered, “Tangtang, what do you think would happen if a fire broke out there?”

“……”

With the imperial palace at the centre, the entire capital would be crushed under iron hooves, and endless wars would follow.

Rong Tang frowned. “That wouldn’t be good.”

Su Huaijing chuckled, “Why not?”

Rong Tang replied, “I’m not done playing yet.”

After a brief pause, Su Huaijing rested his head on Rong Tang’s shoulder, his muffled laughter filling the room, “Whatever you say, Tangtang.”

On the night before New Year’s, the capital was bustling with excitement as lanterns floated along Jinfen River.

Knowing Rong Tang’s mood wasn’t great, Su Huaijing chuckled softly, “Want to go see the lights?”