In the twelfth month of the tenth year of Qingzheng, there was no thirtieth day. New Year’s Eve fell on the twenty-ninth.
Rong Tang had no interest in attending the palace banquet and feigned illness to rest at home.
Rong Mingyu didn’t mind and brought Rong Zheng to the palace instead.
Naturally, Su Huaijing followed Tangtang. Earlier that year, Ke Xuebo had returned from Jiangnan, which meant Ke Hongxue no longer had to attend the banquet in his father’s place. The group, along with Mu Jingxu who claimed lingering injuries, collectively skipped out on Emperor Renshou’s banquet.
Ke Hongxue brought Mu Jingxu and Yuanyuan to Tangjing Residence. Just as they arrived, Rong Tang had released Su Huaijing from a kiss, tears slipping from the corners of his reddened eyes.
Stepping through the doorway, Tutor Ke paused briefly at the scene before forcing a casual smile. “What’s this? Is Master Su bullying our young prince again?”
He teased, “We get it. You’re young, and it’s your first taste of meat. But you can’t keep going at it day and night. Look how restrained your xiong zhang and I are. Try learning some self-control, will you?”
Mu Jingxu’s gaze slid off Rong Tang’s face and landed on Ke Hongxue, his eyes so cold that if looks could kill, Tutor Ke would’ve become a fresh-brewed ice sculpture right there in the courtyard.
Yuanyuan adored this shushu, but loved Mumu even more. Frowning, he hesitated before speaking up for him: “But you made Mumu cry last night.”
Mu Jingxu froze, his eyes widening instinctively. The look he shot Ke Hongxue could’ve frozen over a lake.
Tutor Ke stiffened immediately. He knew he’d stepped on a landmine and fully provoked his senior. Dropping to a crouch, he quickly explained to Yuanyuan, “Don’t say things like that! Your Mumu gege is still recovering from his injuries. I was just helping him apply some medicine.”
“Really?” Yuanyuan clearly didn’t buy it.
Ke Hongxue nodded earnestly. “Really. You’ve seen the scars on his back, right? They’re awful. It must hurt a lot.”
Yuanyuan’s tiny brows knitted in worry, concern written all over his delicate little face.
Ke Hongxue gently tugged him outside and whispered, “Mumu’s really shy. If people hear him cry, he gets embarrassed. Next time, let’s not bring it up, okay?”
Though still skeptical and always feeling that Ke shushu was lying to him, the ten-year-old glanced back and caught a glimpse of Mu Jingxu with his lips slightly pursed, brows faintly furrowed, staring at the floor with his fists clenched beneath his sleeves. Seeing that, Yuanyuan chose to believe Ke Hongxue’s little white lie.
“Then I’ll help next time,” he nodded solemnly. “I’ll blow on it for Mumu.”
Ke Hongxue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He finally managed to lead the boy outside and handed him over to Shuang Fu to go chase sparrows in the snow.
When he returned, the atmosphere indoors had settled. A wooden box sat on the table. Ke Hongxue glanced at it, paused briefly, then seemed to understand. He turned to Su Huaijing and asked, “That your doing?”
Su Huaijing didn’t reply, simply picked up the box and tucked it onto a shelf.
Mu Jingxu gave him a puzzled look, but Ke Hongxue only shook his head. “Nothing. It’s New Year’s—no need to talk about bad luck.”
Then he turned to Rong Tang. “Is the rice milk done in the kitchen? I’ll help you put up the Spring Festival couplets.”
Same as last year—they always helped with this part.
Rong Tang nodded. “Everything’s ready. I even bought tons of firecrackers and lanterns. Yuanyuan’s going to have a blast today.”
“Perfect,” Ke Hongxue grinned. “You got mahjong at home?”
Rong Tang looked a little confused. Tutor Ke explained, “We’re staying over tonight. Can’t just sit around doing nothing while we wait for midnight. Prince knows how to play mahjong, right?”
Rong Tang understood and nodded. “I do.”
“Great! Then let’s all stay up together tonight.”
The charcoal fire crackled in the hearth. With the twelfth month coming to a close, the new year was nearly here. After several heavy snowfalls, a good harvest was surely on the way.
Ke Hongxue and Mu Jingxu went out to look for Yuanyuan. Rong Tang stood up to join them, but Su Huaijing gently took his arm, leaned down, and kissed him again.
If the earlier kiss initiated by Rong Tang had been fierce, desperate, a sudden outpouring of pent-up frustration and sorrow, this one was entirely different. Initiated by Su Huaijing, it was gentle, coaxing, soothing. Every movement was soft, every touch meant to comfort and calm.
When it ended, Su Huaijing wrapped Rong Tang in his arms, letting the other’s rapid breathing fall against his neck.
“Tangtang, happy New Year’s Eve.” So many words, condensed into just six.
Rong Tang closed his eyes, took a long pause, and softly replied, “Happy New Year’s Eve.”
“You’re a year older now, Huaijing.”
“And still Tangtang gege’s little sweetheart,” Su Huaijing replied with a smile.
Rong Tang flushed and couldn’t speak for a moment.
Outside, neighbours had already begun lighting firecrackers. Rong Tang stepped out of Su Huaijing’s embrace to go find Yuanyuan in the courtyard. Just as he neared a corner, Su Huaijing tugged his wrist and stopped him, tilting his head slightly to listen. A smile curled on his lips. He took Rong Tang by the hand and led him through a different side door.
Rong Tang looked puzzled. Su Huaijing leaned in and whispered, “Xiong zhang and Tutor Ke are up to no good.”
It was a soft, intimate whisper. Prince Rong froze for a second, then immediately caught on. His body stiffened as he walked straight ahead. But when they passed the corner again, he couldn’t help himself. He glanced back for a peek.
Su Huaijing was thoroughly charmed by the little gestures. His mood improved exponentially.
Then Rong Tang asked suddenly, “Is xiong zhang… the one on the bottom?”
Su Huaijing’s expression stiffened. He hadn’t expected Tangtang’s curiosity to be quite this strong.
He pursed his lips. It wasn’t proper to gossip, especially when one of the parties was his own xiong zhang. But then he caught sight of Tangtang’s wide, questioning eyes… and he ended up nodding.
Just as Rong Tang gave a triumphant “I knew it” look, Su Huaijing added, “Not necessarily.”
Rong Tang’s smug satisfaction was instantly shattered. Shocked, he looked up at him.
Su Huaijing said gently, “San ge’s back…”
That whipping he suffered in early autumn had healed, thanks to Su Huaijing’s personally prepared ointment. But he definitely couldn’t lie flat on his back and bear weight during recovery.
And Su Huaijing seriously doubted they could go three months without doing anything.
Though he kept his words vague and tactful, Rong Tang understood immediately. His gaze began to drift, ears turning red. In just the blink of an eye, he went from curious kitten to boiled white egg.
Su Xiao Qi’s embarrassment over blurting out his xiong zhang’s secret vanished instantly. Instead, he began watching Rong Tang’s shifting expressions with obvious interest. He curled his little finger against Rong Tang’s palm and asked with a soft chuckle, “Tangtang, want to try it too?”
Rong Tang went from a soft-boiled white egg to a blushing red one.
Su Huaijing smiled with a hint of teasing. “It feels really good. Goes in deep, too.”
Rong Tang nearly cracked his own molars from clenching so hard. He turned and shot Su Huaijing a murderous glare. “What, you think you’re not going deep enough now? Or are you just testing my luck?”
“Neither,” Su Huaijing replied smoothly. “I just want you to feel even better.”
Rong Tang: “…” Shameless!
He stared at Su Huaijing for a few seconds, but in the end, he just wasn’t as thick-skinned. With a sharp flick of his arm, he turned and marched off. Unfortunately, the morally bankrupt villain behind him refused to let up.
“Come on, Tangtang gege,” Su Huaijing coaxed. “Say yes?”
“Husband? Hubby?” He paused, then tried uncertainly, “…Lao gong*?”
(TN: another affectionate term for “husband”.)
“!”
Rong Tang’s foot slipped, and he nearly ate snow. Su Huaijing reacted fast and caught him by the waist.
Once he was steady again, Young Prince Rong shoved Su Huaijing away with a bright red face and stomped off, flinging out a furious: “We’ll discuss this later!”
Su Huaijing froze, briefly wondering what exactly he’d just been called. Meanwhile, the freshly boiled red egg trudged forward, full of regret.
Damn it!
Who uses bedroom nicknames in public?
And who the hell—while fully dressed and out in broad daylight—calls someone “lao gong” like it’s perfectly normal?
Rong Tang briefly considered time-traveling back just to slap the version of himself who’d blurted it out in a moment of panic. And maybe also take a swing at the man who caused the whole mess.
He was seething. It was the dead of winter, yet his face was hot enough to fry dumplings. So when the group finally regrouped, Ke Hongxue glanced between Rong Tang’s flushed, stormy expression and Su Huaijing’s ever-calm, frosty demeanour. And for the first time ever, Tutor Ke felt utterly defeated in front of the senior student.
—Not even the time that brat swaggered into court to show off had frustrated Tutor Ke this much.
Everyone had their own thoughts. They spent the whole day playing with Yuanyuan, setting off fireworks, having reunion dinner, playing mahjong, and staying up to welcome the new year. Yuanyuan eventually curled up on a little couch, fast asleep under a soft blanket. The room was warm and flickering with firelight from the brazier.
Rong Tang yawned. A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind, making his expression shift slightly.
Su Huaijing was peeling a dish of dried fruits for him and looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rong Tang replied quickly, trying to brush it off. But after a pause, he asked, “Did you keep the red envelope xiong zhang gave you?”
“I did,” Su Huaijing said.
Rong Tang gave a small nod, then let the moment pass without further comment.
Su Huaijing gave him a subtle glance, but didn’t push the matter.
Firecrackers burst across the night sky of Yu capital. The year had ended, the new one arrived, and spring was once again on its way back to this old land.
During the holidays, Lu Jiaxi slipped away from his sisters to come pay his respects here and enjoy a brief escape. Duanyi and Wang Xiuyu also spent a few days in Yong’an Lane.
Yuanyuan adored the Eldest Princess, and Duanyi liked the child just as much. The two—one old, one young—got along like peas in a pod.
Rong Tang had worried Wang Xiuyu might be coaxed by Rong Mingyu into returning to the palace, but after the New Year festivities and handling all the obligatory social visits, she followed the Eldest Princess back to their residence on the outskirts of the capital.
Claiming to care for her mother-in-law, she left Rong Mingyu with no excuse to object.
Su Huaijing had been promoted—he officially took over the position of Deputy Censor-in-Chief. Mu Jingxu also returned to court. This time, however, Emperor Renshou dared not punish him at will.
The investigation into the Southwestern Governor Zhang Baoshan’s embezzlement had come to an end. As the imperial inspector, Sheng Chengli should’ve been basking in success, but for reasons unspoken, His Highness the Fifth Prince didn’t even attend the palace’s New Year’s banquet. Word was he’d fallen ill again, and the palace had already brought in a wandering mystic.
Only a very few people knew the real reason for his absence.
Shen Feiyi earned great merit in the investigation and was promoted to General of the Right Valiant Guard, responsible for half of the capital’s defense. The Left Valiant Guard remained under General Ding Weishan. But after his only son had been exposed and executed thanks to Lu Jiaxi’s testimony, Ding’s loyalty had begun to erode. Once he was removed, the entire imperial city’s guard would fall into Su Huaijing’s hands.
Everything was finally aligning. Su Huaijing was closer than ever to his goal.
And yet, he noticed that Rong Tang had been drifting off more and more.
At first, it was subtle. A vacant look, just for a second or two, before snapping back and continuing whatever he’d been doing. It could’ve passed for fatigue… a quiet moment stolen in the midst of activity.
But over time, the frequency grew. His brows began to furrow more often, and a faint cloud of sorrow gathered in his eyes. It was the look of someone quietly fighting something they couldn’t control, but couldn’t stop worrying about.
One night, just before bed, Su Huaijing asked quietly, “Tangtang, are you really okay?”
Rong Tang was caught off guard and reflexively shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Su Huaijing watched him in the dark for a moment, then gently patted his back. “Good night, Tangtang.”
“Good night,” Rong Tang replied.
But after he closed his eyes, he whispered again, “System?”
[……]
Only silence answered him. Not even the faint hum of static remained.
The two swirling clouds of colour still clashed in his mind. But the system itself, that ridiculous, sulky little A.I. who used to bounce around in protest, had vanished.
He’d made it through a joyful New Year.
But he never got the chance to wish his system a Happy New Year.
