Chapter 142

Rong Tang and Sheng Chengli locked eyes. A light breeze rippled across the lake as the last of the revellers made their way home, still singing freely on their boats. The fleet, which had been thrown into disarray earlier, had now returned to order. That brief commotion was nothing more than a minor incident on the journey back. No one paid it any mind.

No one, that is, except the three people on this boat.

Rong Tang stood just outside the canopy for a moment, then quietly returned to his seat.

Ke Hongxue cast him a mildly disapproving look, but Rong Tang merely gestured for him to sit down as well.

The boats on the lake came in all sizes: some were elegant, decorated with elaborate paintings; others were plain and hastily constructed. The most carefree of them lacked even a roof, allowing one to recline with knees drawn up and gaze at the stars overhead, losing oneself in a dream of starlight.

A small wooden table stood at the bow, with a pot of tea steeping. Rong Tang seated himself and poured a cup with effortless grace, then asked in a soft voice, “What were you referring to, Your Highness? Is there something amiss with the tea?”

Sheng Chengli looked at him, his gaze laced with a touch of mischief. After a few moments of silence, he smiled and took up the teapot Rong Tang had just set down. Pouring himself a cup, he took a small sip and replied, “San ge is quite favoured by the Emperor. The imperial concubine’s family is also well-connected. The entire Song Garden is stocked with the finest Yuqian Dragon Well tea. What could possibly be wrong with it?”

Rong Tang held the cup beneath his nose and took a quiet breath, but didn’t drink. His tone remained calm. “Then I truly don’t know what tea Your Highness is referring to. Nor do I understand why I should be too afraid to attend the flower-picking festival. Or, for that matter, whom I ought not to trust.”

The oars stirred the lake, sending out clean, rhythmic splashes. Sheng Chengli lowered his eyes to his teacup, feigning indifference. After a long pause, he murmured, “If biao ge puts it that way, I truly don’t know what more to say.”

Ever-diplomatic Tutor Ke broke the awkward silence at just the right moment. With a smile, he said, “Your Highness has been convalescing at home these past three months. What made you decide to attend the banquet today? I heard you journeyed to the southwest late last year and suffered from miasma poisoning. Have you fully recovered?”

Sheng Chengli set his cup down and replied, “San ge’s festival was such a lively affair, His Majesty asked me to lend a hand in easing his burdens. As for the miasma—”

He paused, lifting his gaze back to Rong Tang. His eyes were strikingly clear, free of any impurities or pretence. His entire face radiated distinction.

With a faint smile, Sheng Chengli added, “Much better now. My eyes were clouded by the toxins before. I couldn’t see clearly. But now that my vision’s returned, I realise I’ve spent the past few years living in a fog.”

Rong Tang’s brow furrowed. He clearly caught the double meaning in those words, and his expression grew a little darker.

He said nothing, merely sat quietly within the cabin. Ke Hongxue kept the conversation going with idle remarks. They were casual enough to avoid making things tense, but never so relaxed that he stopped gathering information.

When the awning-covered boat finally reached the shore, the three disembarked. Just as they were parting ways, Sheng Chengli suddenly called out in a low voice, “Teacher, how did things end up like this between us?”

Rong Tang’s steps faltered slightly. He and Ke Hongxue both stopped, but Rong Tang didn’t look back.

Tutor Ke responded with a composed expression and flawless politeness. “Your Highness is of noble birth. I, a mere subject, know my place. It’s only proper that we observe the boundaries of ruler and minister. Please, Your Highness, refrain from saying such things again… else someone might lodge a complaint.”

Sheng Chengli gave him a sidelong glance and said, “I forgot. Excellency Su is now the Deputy Censor-in-Chief, with authority to impeach officials. I shall be more circumspect with my words in future.”

Having brought up Su Huaijing himself, Ke Hongxue smiled as he offered a reminder. “It’s late. Best you return to your rooms and rest, Your Highness. The night’s grown dark, and if you were to step into a hollow and take a tumble, it wouldn’t do at all.”

Two years ago, Yuerong had drowned in the pond at Song Garden. Soon after, Sheng Chengli had “accidentally” lost his footing in the Imperial Garden and broken a leg.

Sheng Chengli’s expression shifted ever so slightly. He gave a short nod, said no more, and turned to leave.

The affable Third-rank Scholar’s smile finally cracked.

He and Rong Tang walked on together for a while. When the crowd had scattered, he gave a soft, derisive snort aimed at no one in particular. “I thought my senior’s taste in people couldn’t possibly be any worse. But now, it seems I was wrong. You’ve clearly surpassed him.”

Rong Tang’s lips curved faintly. He didn’t refute the jab, nor did he respond. He simply walked on, eyes already tinged with weariness.

After a pause, Ke Hongxue asked, “Shall we keep this from Su Huaijing?”

Rong Tang froze for a heartbeat. His heart gave a little flutter. Then he said quietly, “We won’t be able to.”

“…That’s true,” Ke Hongxue murmured.

From the moment they agreed to let Sheng Chengli board the boat, hiding it from Su Huaijing was never a realistic option. It was only a matter of time. Ke Hongxue had likely asked the question despite knowing full well. If Su Huaijing were to find out, Rong Tang would hardly get off lightly.

But Rong Tang only smiled, masking the anger and sorrow in his brows with the cover of night, and continued walking with Ke Hongxue.

As they approached the courtyard gates, Ke Hongxue suddenly spoke in a low voice… half-murmuring, half-querying, almost offhandedly. “Did it seem to you that Sheng Chengli has changed?”

The person who’d remained composed all evening, carefully concealing every flicker of emotion, suddenly felt his heart sink.

Rong Tang licked his slightly dry lips and replied softly, “At seventeen or eighteen, it’s natural to grow quickly.”

Ke Hongxue lowered his gaze, looking at the crown of Rong Tang’s head. He understood that Rong Tang didn’t want to discuss it further, but the truth was already clear enough. He gave a brief, noncommittal “Ng,” saw Rong Tang back to his room, and returned to his side of the courtyard.

Rong Tang washed up and lay in bed, unable to sleep.

The door creaked open from the outside, letting in the night air. Someone stepped in and came to stand by the bed.

A dim, pearlescent light hung at the head of the bed. A trace left behind by the system when it departed, weeping.

Rong Tang sat up, looked at Su Huaijing through the glow, and asked softly, “Are you angry?”

Without a word, Su Huaijing leaned down, gently pressing their lips together. It wasn’t quite a kiss of passion… more a quiet expression of displeasure.

Rong Tang didn’t resist, letting Su Huaijing kiss his lips, then his eyes, then trail down from earlobe to the hollow of his neck, compliant as a doll.

Su Huaijing rested against his neck and murmured, “I’m not angry with you.”

“I know,” Rong Tang said.

Su Huaijing fell silent for a long time. Instead of going further, he held Rong Tang close and asked, “What tea was it?”

Rong Tang paused briefly. “Did Ke Hongxue tell you?”

Su Huaijing didn’t care for conversations where questions went unanswered. Especially when met with more questions in return. But since it was Rong Tang, he simply replied honestly, “He did.”

Rong Tang thought for a moment, then laughed softly. “Honestly, what is he like? Doesn’t keep anything to himself.”

Su Huaijing said, “He thinks it concerns me and he didn’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

“……”

Rong Tang was silent for two seconds, then sighed from the depths of his heart. “He’s really clever.”

The man pressing down on him narrowed his eyes, and without warning, dipped his head to bite him on the neck.

Rong Tang winced in pain and let out a soft hiss. Su Huaijing lifted his head and looked him straight in the eye. “Tangtang, don’t go praising other men in bed.”

“…You little jar of jealousy,” Rong Tang muttered under his breath. Then, before Su Huaijing could say another word, he reached up and wrapped his arms around him, coaxing gently, “Let’s just do it first.”

Su Huaijing looked mildly surprised. He didn’t move for a while, but his body had already betrayed him. His desire unmistakable.

Rong Tang laughed and nuzzled his nose against Su Huaijing’s, whispering, “Come on, let’s do it. I’ve got too much on my mind right now, I can’t sleep. Knock me out so I can finally rest properly, won’t you?”

It was hard to tell whether this was seduction or a conspiratorial crime. Rong Tang clearly knew Su Huaijing wouldn’t push him too hard, and was boldly taking full advantage of that.

Su Huaijing looked at him for a long moment, and in the end, chose to drown with him.

As their passion reached its peak, both bodies slick with sweat, Rong Tang pressed his lips to Su Huaijing’s ear and gave his earlobe a firm bite—sharp enough to rouse him through the haze. Then, in a voice barely more than a breath, he whispered, “Huaijing, there’s nothing between us that needs explaining.”

Whether it was that cup of tea, or all the head-to-head clashes over two lifetimes, we’ve always been honest with each other.

Su Huaijing didn’t reply. But beneath the soft shimmer of light at the head of the bed, his eyes grew ever darker, filled with a desire so thick it could barely be contained.

He wanted to hide him away. Swallow him whole.

And yet, he also wanted him safe. Wanted him healthy. Wanted his life free of worry.

…

In the days following the flower-picking festival, Su Huaijing didn’t leave Rong Tang’s side for even a moment.

Rong Tang could only laugh in helpless amusement, partly thinking he was being overly cautious, yet also knowing Su Huaijing couldn’t truly rest easy.

So he let him be.

Rong Tang remained in the garden until the final day, before setting off to return to the capital.

On the journey back, they made a detour to Tuolan Temple.

Su Huaijing didn’t understand exactly what Rong Tang hoped to find there, but as always, he indulged him without question.

Whatever Tangtang wished to do, he would never say no.

Tuolan Temple was still as full of incense as ever. The same young novice monk stood at the mountain gate as before. Upon seeing them approach, he greeted them with a Buddhist blessing and said, “Devotee, please follow me.”

Rong Tang nodded in thanks. “Much obliged, little master.”

Su Huaijing, seemingly plagued by a bout of separation anxiety lately, frowned slightly and asked, “Can’t I come with you?”

Before Rong Tang could answer, the novice replied, “Master instructed that if the devotee insists, he may wait in the outer courtyard.”

Su Huaijing offered a polite word of thanks, then followed the two of them further inside. Rong Tang was slightly taken aback, but then shook his head with a soft chuckle.

What talk is there of monks cutting ties with the mortal world? This bond clearly hasn’t been severed at all.

In the small courtyard, the pear tree that had once stood dusted with snow now wore a crown of fresh green leaves. Master Huimian knelt quietly on a prayer mat, chanting sutras in a low, steady voice. Rong Tang entered without interrupting, knelt down beside him, and began reciting sutras himself… slowly, in rhythm with the scent of sandalwood and the ancient Buddha before him.

It wasn’t until he reached the final word of the text that the fragrance of tea drifted in from beside him. Rong Tang opened his eyes to see the white-haired monk had already left his mat and was calmly brewing tea, every movement serene and unhurried.

Huimian said, “You’ve come earlier than I expected. Have you found the answers to those four questions?”

Where do you come from? Why did you come? When did you arrive? Where are you going?

Rong Tang stood and shook his head honestly. “No, I haven’t.”

Huimian didn’t appear surprised. He poured a cup of tea and gestured for Rong Tang to sit. “Then what brings you here today, devotee?”

“Master, you mean you don’t already know?” Rong Tang looked directly into his eyes.

Huimian smiled faintly. “I am but a humble monk walking the secular path. How could I possibly divine the secrets of heaven?”

Rong Tang’s gaze darkened. His fingers curled slowly into fists at his sides.

The light fragrance of tea mingled with the scent of incense. In the courtyard, the pear tree had begun to bear tiny fruit.

Rong Tang asked, “Is there truly a flaw in the Heavenly Way?”

He paused, then rephrased, “Or rather, who is the one not where they should be?”