Chapter 110

Rong Tang never interfered in Su Huaijing’s plans.

What steps he would take for Sheng Chengming, what he had discussed with the Eldest Princess, how many traps he had quietly set up, or when he planned to spring them…

Rong Tang never asked. His trust in Su Huaijing was pure and instinctive.

The system, however, couldn’t help but get frustrated, stomping its metaphorical feet in exasperation. [“You were never like this in your past two lives!”]

Rong Tang, righteous as ever, retorted, “Did the male protagonist you chose deserve my trust like this?”

The system was immediately speechless, its glowing core swirling in the void in frustration. It hovered above Rong Tang’s head, throwing a little tantrum, yet couldn’t muster a single rebuttal.

No. Sheng Chengli didn’t deserve it.

Even those most loyal to him, those who had handed him their full trust, were often devoured in return.

He was the true snake. All the descriptions of Su Huaijing in the original text would have been better suited to him.

As for Su Huaijing…

The system mulled over it for days, trying to think of a fitting metaphor.

He resembled a peacock, spreading his tail feathers before Tangtang.

He resembled a rabbit, playful and endearing.

He resembled a wolfdog, cunning and strategic, adept at setting traps and capturing prey.

……

He resembled everything, and yet, the most fitting description eluded it.

Until one idle day, when Rong Tang, with brush in hand, painted a tiger returning to the mountains on tawny paper.

The system’s light suddenly flared. It understood now. Su Huaijing was a tiger.

A tiger that lay dormant under the bright sun, hunting in the silence of the night.

He was bold, unabashed in his actions… so audacious that it was nearly impossible to suspect him. Even Emperor Renshou and the court officials never doubted him.

Who would suspect a majestic and noble tiger?

The snake and the tiger marked their territories, vying for dominance in the jungle. Only when they met head-on could it be decided who would win.

And in both previous lifetimes, without fail, Su Huaijing won.

——And then, the world ended.

The system stayed in its void. It wasn’t supposed to feel tired. It was a program, a creation of data. But in this simulation, whether to mimic human senses or because of its unique capabilities, it found itself… changing.

It could feel exhaustion, sorrow, joy, and frustration.

It didn’t understand why. Had it been influenced by its host? Or was this something innate?

But as a system designed to issue tasks, what use were emotions?

The system couldn’t figure it out. Its connection to the mainframe had been severed, and its host didn’t even realise it was undergoing these changes.

With four years gone and only two or three remaining, it felt wasteful to dwell on such pointless thoughts.

So, the system stayed quietly by Rong Tang’s side, day by day, as he idled away his time, feeling its own weariness deepen alongside his.

By the time they returned from Yong’an Lane to Duke Ningxuan’s Palace, the sky had darkened.

Rong Tang stepped out of Tanghua Courtyard, glancing toward the women’s quarters in the depths of the garden. Uneasy, he turned and asked Su Huaijing, “Do you have a way to get zumu to the temple to pray on New Year’s Day?”

Su Huaijing didn’t answer immediately. With a knowing smile, he met Rong Tang’s gaze. “Tangtang wants to secure a path forward for tangjie?”

Rong Tang paused, then realised. “When did you arrive by the pond?”

Su Huaijing didn’t bother hiding it and smiled. “When you said you didn’t have long to live.”

Rong Tang’s expression shifted, a faint tension rising within him. He wanted to explain that it had merely been an excuse to comfort Rong Ying.

But trying to explain now felt strange, so he hesitated, sneaking a glance at Su Huaijing’s expression to see if he was upset.

Instead, Su Huaijing smiled, grasped his wrist, and led him toward the main gate. “I’m not angry.”

Rong Tang shot him a suspicious look.

Su Huaijing chuckled. “I’m not as petty as you, Tangtang.”

Rong Tang: “?”

For a moment, he felt stifled and snapped back, “Do you even feel guilty for falsely accusing me?”

Su Huaijing nodded, utterly shameless. “Not at all.”

“…”

Rong Tang gave up arguing, storming ahead as though to escape, but Su Huaijing held his hand, preventing him from getting far. They remained in an awkward two-step dance, neither gaining ground.

“I’m not angry,” Su Huaijing said, “because I know you only said that to reassure tangjie. Since you promised to try harder—to live longer and not accompany me to the grave so soon—you wouldn’t be brooding about dying every day, would you?”

The evening breeze rustled through the trees, carrying his voice, soft and unhurried, with not a trace of sharpness.

Rong Tang’s steps slowed.

Su Huaijing fell in stride beside him, speaking evenly. “If you want to help her find a way forward, of course I’ll support you. But how far she can go depends on her own ability. Do you understand?”

Still preoccupied with Su Huaijing’s casual mention of “accompanying him to the grave,” Rong Tang took a moment to process his words before nodding. “I understand.”

He had only given Rong Ying a direction. He was to manipulate Duanyi and Buddha… but the extent and precision of such schemes were up to her. Rong Tang couldn’t micromanage every detail.

Su Huaijing’s willingness to sway the Eldest Princess was already a tremendous help.

But Rong Tang didn’t feel happy about this.

The sunset was stunning, with fiery clouds slowly forming in the sky. They walked quietly along the path leading out of Duke Ningxuan’s Palace for a long while without speaking.

Just as they were about to board the carriage, Su Huaijing gently tugged Rong Tang’s wrist, compelling him to meet his gaze, and asked softly but firmly, “Tangtang, are you angry with me?”

“No.” Rong Tang shook his head and denied it instinctively. But the moment he said it, he hesitated briefly, raised his head to meet Su Huaijing’s eyes, frowned, and asked with visible displeasure, “Are you threatening me?”

The young prince was both furious and indignant. On one hand, he had indeed said something Su Huaijing shouldn’t have overheard, but on the other, he couldn’t let it go.

Su Huaijing was clearly threatening him.

He kept talking about “not having long to live,” and this main villain had the audacity to use “going to the grave together” as leverage.

Couldn’t he show some respect?

What kind of person uses their own life to threaten someone else?

It’s not like he was Su Huaijing’s father!

Why should he care if Su Huaijing went off and died?!

Rong Tang was annoyed and fuming. He was entirely dissatisfied. Sparks of anger began flaring in his eyes as he glared at Su Huaijing.

So furious!

However, Su Huaijing’s eyes curved slightly as he smiled faintly and openly admitted, “Yes, I am.”

He said, “I’m threatening Tangtang.”

The little flames in Rong Tang’s eyes burned brighter. Su Huaijing continued, “Back in Jiangnan, I told you that gambling on human hearts is the riskiest thing you can do. One misstep could lead to utter disaster. But now, I want to tell you something else: when it comes to people who care about each other, the human heart is the easiest thing in the world to predict and control.”

Rong Tang froze for a moment, as though he had begun to grasp his meaning.

Su Huaijing smiled faintly. “Tangtang gets it.”

“Because you care about me, when you heard me say I’d accompany you to the grave, it upset you, made you sad, and even guilty…” He paused for a moment and then said softly, “But Tangtang, when you keep talking about your own death every day, do you think it doesn’t hurt me? Do you think I don’t feel sad?”

His voice was soft, dissipating into the air and the summer breeze, lost entirely by the time it reached the palace gates.

The western sky was painted in fiery red clouds. Summer nights were made for stargazing and cloud-watching. The beauty of the natural world was so vivid it seemed almost tangible.

Rong Tang stayed silent for a long time before he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Su Huaijing coaxed as he helped him into the carriage, setting out some nuts and tea. “I know why you keep saying those things. I’m not angry with you.”

Nobody truly looks forward to their own death. The reason Rong Tang spoke about it so frequently, easing himself into the topic day by day, was twofold: first, he understood that his time was genuinely limited; and second, he wanted to prepare Su Huaijing and others, to spare them from being blindsided when the day inevitably came.

With enough mental preparation, they might be able to face the reality calmly.

Still, Su Huaijing wondered: had Rong Tang really come to terms with it, or was he just forcing himself to?

.He wanted Tangtang to hold on to a stronger will to live, but he didn’t dare give him too much hope.

Trying to inspire fierce determination to live in someone who knows their death is certain, only to be unable to deliver on that hope. It could be devastating. It was better to let him live freely, enjoying each day as it came. At least that way, he could be happy, not consumed by worry.

Even so, Su Huaijing had his selfish desires. It was unfair of him to impose these desires on Rong Tang, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t satisfied. He couldn’t accept it. He wanted to use himself as leverage, to push Rong Tang, just a little.

To let him feel, just once, the fear that Su Huaijing lived with every single day.

But as soon as Rong Tang softly apologised, Su Huaijing’s anger melted away.

He peeled a small plate of nuts for Rong Tang, only to hear the young prince ask doubtfully, “Really?”

Su Huaijing smiled helplessly. “Really. I’m not angry. Say whatever you want, Tangtang. I won’t take it seriously.”

Rong Tang stared at him for a long time before nodding. “Okay, then.”

That night, as Su Huaijing went about preparing Rong Tang’s medicine, he returned to the courtyard to find the young prince lounging on the beauty couch, stargazing and enjoying the cool breeze. The sight filled him with the urge to march right back and strangle the fool who had claimed not to be angry.

He was angry!

He was absolutely fuming!

Rong Tang lay sprawled across the couch, the dim light making it impossible to read. He glanced at the Milky Way and the swirling stars overhead, then turned lazily to look at Su Huaijing. Offhandedly, he remarked, “Last year, I mortgaged my estate in Longxi to buy you a house.”

Su Huaijing blinked in confusion. Just as he was about to ask for the address so he could buy it back, Rong Tang added with a casual air, “I’ve got maybe two years left. Make sure to get the estate back when the time comes. After all, I’ll be dead, and the inheritance will all be yours. Don’t forget it.”

Su Huaijing: “…”

He stared at Rong Tang from a distance for a long time, noting the glimmer of mischief and teasing in the prince’s gaze under the starry night sky. Then, glancing down at the bowl of medicine in his hand, he made a decision.

Pour it out and start over.

This time, no sugar.

Bitter medicine is good for the heart. Spoiling Tangtang too much isn’t good for him.

Su Huaijing thought for a moment, then turned and left.

Rong Tang froze and called after him. “Eh? Where are you going?”

“I missed an ingredient. I’ll redo it,” Su Huaijing replied smoothly, his tone so cold it practically radiated grievance and frustration.

Rong Tang stared after him, bewildered, before suddenly breaking into laughter.

A main villain who couldn’t even admit when he was angry. Where had he picked up that habit?

——————————

Learned it from you, of course. Don’t worry, your bitter medicine’s on its way~Bi Xin