Chapter 102

Rong Tang froze, his movements stiffening slightly as his heart sank. He turned his head to look at Sheng Chengli and asked, surprised, “Why would Your Highness say that?”

There were many possible explanations for Sheng Chengli’s remark. The most straightforward was that Rong Tang had just asked him not to call him biao ge anymore. In essence, this amounted to denying any close familial relationship between them.

Yet there was a deeper implication, one that existed only in the memories of their shared past lives.

Rong Tang, with faint amusement, thought Sheng Chengli wasn’t entirely foolish—at least he chose to call him biao ge rather than something even more absurd.

For instance, sir or Ah Tang…

A cold wind swept past, and Rong Tang shivered involuntarily. He wasn’t sure if it was the chill or Sheng Chengli’s words that had left him feeling uncomfortable.

The steady sound of footsteps approached from behind. Su Huaijing placed a teapot on the stone table within the pavilion and then removed his outer garment, draping it over Rong Tang’s shoulders.

Rong Tang was about to ask why Su Huaijing wasn’t wearing his robe, but when he looked up and met Su Huaijing’s gaze, the faint reproach in his eyes made him feel inexplicably guilty. He swallowed his words and said nothing.

The ever-silent Su Huaijing poured a cup of tea and sat down beside him. His voice, calm and elegant, blended seamlessly with the sound of the wind across the lake, creating a sense of tranquillity.

“Your Highness has honoured us by coming all this way. Please forgive us for failing to meet you sooner,” he said.

Sheng Chengli’s pitiful expression faded slightly, replaced by a fleeting look of confusion and resistance. After a pause, he replied, “No need to apologise, Excellency Su. It is enough that biao ge came out to greet me from his courtyard. I wouldn’t fault you for that.”

“Oh? Truly?” Su Huaijing’s lips curved faintly as he glanced at Rong Tang with an expression difficult to interpret.

Rong Tang inwardly cursed Sheng Chengli, that sonofabitch, for once again dragging him into trouble. He met Su Huaijing’s gaze with resolute eyes, silently making it clear that he held Sheng Chengli in no special regard.

Su Huaijing, meanwhile, had discarded his outer robe earlier and, having given his coat to Rong Tang, was now dressed lightly. With the lake’s chill seeping through, he brazenly slipped his hand beneath Rong Tang’s outer garment and placed it over the hand warmer, ostensibly to keep warm.

Rong Tang blinked, slightly stunned. Su Huaijing’s hand felt warmer than the hand warmer itself, and he couldn’t quite understand why he insisted on getting closer. Despite his thoughts, Rong Tang shifted his hand to share the heat.

“I heard you guys chatting before I arrived here. What were you discussing?” Su Huaijing asked nonchalantly, his fingers brushing ever so lightly against the back of Rong Tang’s hand.

The faint touch sent a shiver through Rong Tang’s body, and he sat up straighter, replying earnestly, “His Highness asked me a question I didn’t understand. I was just asking him to clarify.”

Turning to Sheng Chengli, he repeated, “What did Your Highness mean by that? There is a vast gulf between our statuses. Should such words reach the ears of those with ill intent, they could be used to censure me. I would ask Your Highness to explain them more clearly.”

Su Huaijing lowered his gaze, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head slightly before once again resting his hand atop Rong Tang’s.

He didn’t need the warmth; this was merely an outlet for his swirling emotions—grievance, jealousy, regret, and anger. If he didn’t hold onto Rong Tang, Su Huaijing feared he might act irrationally.

Rong Tang stiffened briefly before relaxing, permitting Su Huaijing to idly play with his fingers under the guise of the clothing. His indulgence bordered on remarkable.

Sheng Chengli, meanwhile, was taken aback by the sight, his expression tinged with disbelief. He hesitated before speaking.

Noticing this, Su Huaijing’s mood inexplicably lightened. He shifted closer to Rong Tang, earning a mildly reproachful look.

He chuckled quietly, listening as Sheng Chengli finally explained, “It’s not a major matter. Imperial Father has always taught me to remember that zumu saved my great-grandfather during the upheaval of the Yu Dynasty and later stabilised the court for my grandfather. Out of gratitude, we are to treat the children of the Eldest Princess’s household as our own blood relatives. When I suddenly heard biao ge deny me that form of address, I became anxious and lost my manners. I hope biao ge will not hold it against me.”

Su Huaijing raised an eyebrow and glanced at Rong Tang. His fingertips gave a light pinch—whether as praise or something else was unclear.

Coolly, Su Huaijing remarked, “His Majesty, despite his many responsibilities, takes time to personally instruct his sons. This demonstrates the deep bonds of the imperial family and the unparalleled love between father and son. Truly, it puts to rest any rumours or slander circulating in court.”

Sheng Chengli froze, gradually comprehending the subtext. A faint flush crept across his cheeks. After all, he was still a sixteen-year-old boy, unskilled at concealing his emotions.

Su Huaijing suppressed a laugh. Who didn’t know that among Emperor Renshou’s children, the Fifth Prince was the least favoured? Raised in the cold palace, he now dared to claim, “Imperial Father has always taught me.”

In a dream, perhaps?

Su Huaijing continued, “That Your Highness holds Tangtang in such high regard and willingly addresses him as biao ge is indeed our good fortune—”

His words were abruptly interrupted as Rong Tang pinched his hand hard. Su Huaijing turned to see a pair of eyes blazing with indignation.

He softened his tone, handing a cup of tea to Rong Tang, and added, “However, it would be best to avoid such talk of blood relations in the future. To those aware, it speaks of royal favour and respect for elders. To those unaware, it might seem as though the Duke Ningxuan household harbours ambitions of imperial power, even seeking to establish a bloodline connection to the throne. That would cast doubt on our loyalty to His Majesty. Don’t you agree, Your Highness?”

Rong Tang silently applauded Su Huaijing’s sharp rhetoric. This was why he deserved his reputation as the main villain. His ability to manipulate words and thoughts was unmatched. With just a few sentences, he turned the situation on its head, effortlessly trapping Sheng Chengli with an innocuous-seeming question.

Even the eloquent Tutor Ke had rarely managed to gain the upper hand against him in three lifetimes combined.

Rong Tang loosened his grip and lightly rubbed the pinched spot, silently forgiving Su Huaijing for his earlier remark about “good fortune.”

Good fortune, my foot. Jinx is more apt.

Su Huaijing nearly laughed aloud at Rong Tang’s transparent temper. So quick to anger, yet so easily soothed.

He turned back to Sheng Chengli with an expectant smile, waiting for his reply.

Sheng Chengli hesitated, then said, “Excellency Su is right. I misspoke. You and biao ge—”

The words were barely out when Rong Tang frowned, prompting Sheng Chengli to bite back his frustration and amend his phrasing. “You and Shizi have corrected me, and I will remember it.”

Su Huaijing raised a hand to forestall Sheng Chengli’s bow and said, “Your Highness honours us too much. You are the emperor’s son, after all. Tangtang and I are merely ministers and commoners. We could never presume to ‘correct’ you.”

His guard remained unyielding, leaving Sheng Chengli with no room to manoeuvre.

Forced to concede, Sheng Chengli swallowed his frustration. Now was not the time to press further with Rong Tang. He could only look at him wistfully and say, “I will soon be leaving for the Imperial Mausoleum. Shizi, please take care of your health while in the capital. Look after yourself and don’t let those who care about you worry.”

Su Huaijing’s eyes narrowed slightly. For the first time, he wondered if he had been too lenient with his earlier words.

But Rong Tang merely replied, “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness.”

The main villain was immediately displeased. Sheng Chengli’s words and actions, at most, made him feel disgusted, but the moment Tangtang responded to him, Su Huaijing felt an uncontrollable surge of bitterness rising in his heart

He lowered his gaze, reached into his sleeve with his free hand, and began searching for the poison needle he always carried.

Rong Tang continued, “At the New Year’s Eve palace banquet, Your Highness went to the trouble of having someone deliver exquisite dishes to ease my hunger. I’ve not had the chance to thank you properly. You were most considerate.”

The sun was dipping below the western hills, twilight nearly fading. Su Huaijing’s fingers brushed against the cold surface of a silver needle, and his heart chilled slightly.

Rong Tang glanced behind him, as though waiting for someone.

Su Huaijing froze for a moment, and almost simultaneously, a loud honking erupted from behind—a goose’s cry, each call more domineering than the last, like a village bully.

He blinked, turning his head to see Shuang Fu returning, clutching a goose in one hand.

Rong Tang smiled as he finished his statement. “However, my constitution is weak, and I cannot tolerate spicy food. Taking the liberty of your kindness, I distributed the dishes to the young gentlemen attending the banquet to prevent them gossiping about Your Highness favouring some over others and being unjust.”

His smile was faint, seemingly to avoid criticism, but his words subtly pointed out: You have made many enemies for yourself.

Yet, what did that have to do with Rong Tang?

He continued, “The goose soup, however, was genuinely enjoyed by me. My mother, upon returning from an audience with Her Majesty, the Empress, told me of Your Highness’s hardships in the palace and how you’ve always been self-reliant. How could I accept such generosity without giving something in return? These two geese, plump and spirited, shall serve as my repayment for your kindness. Thank you, Your Highness.”

He rose and, while speaking, offered Sheng Chengli a respectful and inarguable bow. Sheng Chengli, caught off guard, failed to grasp what had transpired. By the time he realised, two fat geese had already taken their places beside him, honking so loudly that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Rong Tang remained composed, seemingly unaware of the absurdity of his actions. Instead, he spoke earnestly, “The imperial mausoleum is remote and bitterly cold, far from the capital. Servants there are unlikely to be diligent. If Your Highness does not wish to return these geese to the imperial kitchens, why not take them with you? If hunger strikes, they can satisfy your appetite.”

He glanced perfunctorily at the sky. “It’s getting late, and the palace gates will soon close. I won’t keep Your Highness for dinner. You should return to the palace early.”

Sheng Chengli remained bewildered throughout the exchange. When he finally regained his senses, he found himself already walking towards the exit.

Shuang Fu herded the geese along, the two unruly birds honking as they waddled. One of them even had the audacity to defecate—a bright yellow heap—right onto the shoes of His Highness, the most esteemed Fifth Prince of Dayu and the male protagonist of this world.

“Yeee!” Rong Tang turned his head away, refusing to look at the scene.

Su Huaijing stood silently for a moment before letting out a muffled laugh. He tucked the silver needle back into his sleeve, draped another cloak over Rong Tang, and led him towards the hall.

He smiled and asked, “Was this why Tangtang refused to see him indoors?”

The breeze cleared his mind, preventing any momentary lapse into sentimentality. Ferocious geese and their pungent droppings, combined with the open air, ensured no charcoal fires would fill the house with foul odours.

How could it be repaying a favour? From start to finish, Rong Tang had been belittling and humiliating Sheng Chengli.

Su Huaijing observed the faintly proud expression on Rong Tang’s slightly upturned face. Amusement flickered in his eyes, and he pouted playfully, feigning grievance. “Tangtang gave away the geese I caught to someone else.”

Rong Tang’s expression darkened, and he turned to glare at him. “How is that possible!”

Su Huaijing blinked, a little startled by the reaction.

“I heard he was coming this afternoon,” Rong Tang said. “I hurriedly asked the cook to buy the geese from our neighbour.”

He huffed softly. “Our geese are so well-behaved. How could I give them away?”

Su Huaijing missed the hidden meaning in his words, but the system, observing everything, let out a disdainful “ha”: [Geese.]

The garden lights were beginning to glow, and the scent of food grew stronger the closer they came to the main courtyard.

Hand in hand, Su Huaijing led Tangtang slowly inside against the wind, his gentle voice blending into the night along with the buds on the trees, as if heralding the arrival of spring.

Spring waters and autumn moons could never compare to the warmth of the person before him.

In Rong Tang’s eyes, the gentle young master smiled serenely, his tone casual and unhurried, as if discussing something as mundane as the day’s menu. He called out with a smile, “Tangtang.”

“Hmm?”

“Can’t I kill Sheng Chengli?”

Su Huaijing’s question seemed to carry genuine uncertainty, though the smile on his lips never faltered.

“I really want to kill him. Can’t I?” he asked softly, his tone almost coquettish, as though pleading for permission.