Chapter 151

The room had been silent for some time when Rong Tang looked at Mu Jingxu, his gaze layered and complex. After a moment, he opened his mouth with difficulty, yet spoke with firm resolve: “Resign from office.”

Mu Jingxu was taken aback, a faint crease forming between his brows.

He glanced at the two of them, then rose to his feet. “Let’s talk in the study.”

Rong Tang knew his suggestion was more than a little presumptuous. Mu Jingxu was not the impulsive or reckless type; he had always acted with caution and deliberation.

The fact that he had personally invited Sheng Chengli to the Imperial Court of Justice meant he had given it due thought, weighing gains and losses carefully. And yet…

Following behind, Rong Tang looked at the straight, slender figure ahead of him, and a wave of anxiety tightened in his chest.

It’s no use…

Mu Jingxu’s deliberation, his skill in balancing power… none of it applied to the Sheng Chengli they were dealing with now.

If Rong Tang’s suspicions were right, and the timeline truly aligned with his deductions, then the person inhabiting the male lead’s body was someone who came into being after Mu Jingxu’s death in the previous life.

If he’d had the confidence to let Mu Jingxu die and survived for more than a month afterward, then he’d likely already been cured of the poison. It was even possible he had never been poisoned in the first place.

In which case, what use was Mu Jingxu’s poison as leverage?

From Mu Jingxu’s perspective, Sheng Chengli appeared to be at a disadvantage due to the medicine. But from Sheng Chengli’s standpoint, he was clearly exploiting a crucial asymmetry in information: tricking Mu Jingxu into believing he still held sway, thus allowing him to lower his guard.

Rong Tang’s lips were slightly dry. When they arrived in the study, Mu Jingxu poured each of them a cup of tea, then sat down behind the desk, regarding Rong Tang with a mild gaze that bore no trace of hostility.

“Is there a reason,” he asked, “or is it some danger I’ve yet to realise?”

Rong Tang gave a small nod.

A glimmer of understanding passed through Mu Jingxu’s eyes. The tension in his posture eased almost imperceptibly. “What kind of danger?” he asked gently.

Rong Tang couldn’t state outright that Sheng Chengli was no longer the same person. But after lifetimes of dealing with them, he knew: if the clues he offered were clear enough, they would figure it out sooner or later.

After a brief pause, he said, obliquely, “Even if Hua Tuo* were reborn, to perfectly restore a lost eye without leaving the slightest flaw… it seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”

(*TN: Hua Tuo (華佗, c. 140–208 CE) was a legendary physician of the late Eastern Han dynasty in ancient China, widely revered as one of the greatest doctors in Chinese history. He is remains a symbol of medical excellence in Chinese culture, and his name is still associated with healing and traditional Chinese medicine today.)

Mu Jingxu nodded faintly. He clearly agreed.

Rong Tang continued, “If it wasn’t medicine, the palace did recruit mystics from across the realm earlier this year. Who knows what unorthodox methods might have been used to cure Sheng Chengli? But since they were capable of reattaching a living person’s eye, how can you, xiong zhang, be sure that the poison he carried hasn’t also been removed?”

Mu Jingxu frowned slightly. Rong Tang seized the moment. “Has he still been asking you for the antidote?”

Mu Jingxu replied, “Just as he always has. No change.”

A flash of steel entered Rong Tang’s eyes. He pressed on. “Sheng Chengli is deeply calculating, with a mind as shrewd as they come. If he’s no longer poisoned, yet continues to approach you month after month for an antidote, then joins you at the Imperial Court of Justice… how can you be certain he isn’t plotting something else?”

By now, Rong Tang’s voice had turned cold. There was even a rare urgency to it. He leaned forward, speaking with quiet force, as if laying out a strategic case: “It was he who harmed Yuerong. Concubine Yi’s death was his doing. Since the Dragon Boat Festival, Sheng Chengxing has gone from soaring in splendour to a house in ruin… Hasn’t every single one of these events borne his mark? Xiong zhang, how can you trust him so easily?!”

Outside, autumn wind stirred fallen leaves. Darkness had fallen entirely. In the courtyard, birds and insects passed through another season; migratory birds preparing to head south rested for the night atop the roof tiles.

Mu Jingxu’s eyes flickered with a hard-to-read emotion. He stared at Rong Tang in silence for a long moment, then abruptly lowered his head and gave a quiet laugh.

Rong Tang froze.

Mu Jingxu calmly took the cooled tea from in front of him, poured it aside with unhurried ease, and refilled his cup. “The tea’s cold. Best not to drink it that way.”

“…?”

Rong Tang blinked in confusion. Mu Jingxu looked at him with a slight smile. It was an elegant curve of the lips on that usually austere face, revealing a rarely seen trace of indulgence.

Rong Tang’s cheeks reddened inexplicably. He averted his gaze and took a small sip of tea to cover it.

Mu Jingxu said softly, “Tangtang… are you worried about me?”

Su Huaijing, who had been sitting quietly for some time, frowned at that. “Xiong zhang, why are you calling him that too?”

Mu Jingxu glanced at him. “If Shizi can call me that, why can’t I borrow your turn of phrase?”

The main villain, evidently in the wrong, held his tongue and refrained from arguing further.

In an instant, the tension that had filled the room ebbed into something gentler and more tranquil.

Mu Jingxu spoke again, his voice soft, even a little troubled. “But what can I do? The imperial decree has already been issued. His Highness the Fifth Prince will report to the court tomorrow.”

Rong Tang stiffened reflexively, but then caught the implication behind the words. He paused, then his eyes lit up as he leaned forward eagerly. “Xiong zhang. You’re agreeing to my suggestion?”

Mu Jingxu smiled faintly. He neither agreed nor refused. “I still believe I have things under control. But when everyone but me disagrees… I start to think perhaps a change wouldn’t be such a bad thing. At the very least, it would save you all from worrying.”

Su Huaijing raised an eyebrow and took out the waist tablet he always carried, idly fiddling with the tassel as he restrained the urge to retort.

So what was this? When he said it, it didn’t work. When Ke Hongxue said it, it didn’t work either. It took one more person to make the whole thing a family drama before his xiong zhang would listen?

Su Huaijing stayed silent, sulking in a corner like a shadowy little mushroom, inwardly grumbling at his san ge.

Mu Jingxu gave him a look before turning back to Rong Tang. “That said, resignation must be offered three times, and each time met with refusal before it’s accepted. Back and forth like that, it could take a year, maybe more.”

“That’s far too long.” Rong Tang frowned.

In a year or so, the plot would have all but run its course, and Su Huaijing would be Emperor. Heaven knows what Sheng Chengli might try before then.

Mu Jingxu nodded in agreement, and for a moment, silence settled over the study once more.

After a pause, his gaze shifted to Su Huaijing. With a mild smile, he asked gently, “What do you think, Xiao Qi?”

Su Huaijing’s fingers paused in their movement. He glanced up irritably. “And now you want to hear my opinion?”

Mu Jingxu lifted his brows and smiled. “Didn’t say I’d take it.”

Su Huaijing sat up straight in an instant, her expression darkening as he glared at him.

Rong Tang blinked, then realised it was just an older brother teasing his younger sibling. He wisely decided not to get involved and let them carry on.

The two locked eyes for a long moment before Su Huaijing gave in, slumping back against the chair with a dispirited air. Her voice was listless as she muttered, “There’s no need to resign.”

Mu Jingxu raised a brow. “Oh? Then what do you suggest?”

“Just feign illness,” Su Huaijing replied. “Ever since the old emperor learnt the truth about Concubine Shu’s death, he’s been in low spirits and his health has steadily declined. Do you remember the performance we staged at the start of last autumn?”

Mu Jingxu nodded. “The one where the Astronomical Bureau declared that my fate and His Majesty’s complemented each other?”

Su Huaijing nodded back. “Exactly. So now that Sheng Xuyan has fallen ill, it wouldn’t be fitting if you didn’t take seriously ill as well. Pretend to be unwell and take a few months off… three to five months would do nicely. It’s as good as resigning.”

Mu Jingxu looked briefly stunned. He’d expected him to suggest ten days, perhaps a fortnight—not three to five months. He couldn’t help wondering if there was some ulterior motive behind it.

But he didn’t call him out. Instead, indulging his didi, he smiled and asked, “When should I start?”

Su Huaijing gave him a long look. “Go to the Imperial Court of Justice as usual tomorrow, and make contact with Sheng Chengli. The day after, start coughing and act as if you’re physically exhausted. On the third day, collapse in court.”

Mu Jingxu caught on immediately. “So the suspicion falls on Sheng Chengli?”

Su Huaijing nodded. Mu Jingxu thought it over, frowning slightly. “It’s risky. If I collapse in Jinluan Hall, His Majesty will summon the imperial physicians. Won’t they realise I’m faking it as soon as they take my pulse?”

Su Huaijing was unbothered. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they find nothing.”

Mu Jingxu faltered for a moment, then glanced at Rong Tang. He didn’t press further, simply nodded and agreed. “All right.”

Rong Tang, meanwhile, had been bewildered from the start. Even when Mu Jingxu nodded, he still hadn’t fully processed what had just happened.

Not because of the plan, but because…

The sheer trust being shown felt surreal. It gave him a strange sense of déjà vu, as though there must surely be some trap lying in wait.

He tried to recall exactly what he’d told Mu Jingxu… and realised that all he’d conveyed was that Sheng Chengli’s trip seemed suspicious and he feared for his safety.

He hadn’t offered any object, any direct or indirect proof. Yet Mu Jingxu had believed him without hesitation. In just a few exchanges, they’d settled on a plan right there in the study, without any of the usual scheming and second-guessing he was so accustomed to.

Even after they left the study, Rong Tang walked along the gravel path toward the courtyard gate, the moon hanging overhead, still feeling faintly dazed.

Halfway there, Su Huaijing suddenly recalled something and told him to wait. He turned back to fetch it from the study.

Rong Tang tilted his head to look up at the moonlight. After a long moment, he chuckled softly.

He was so used to betrayal that being trusted so easily felt suspicious. Was this what they meant by “once bitten by a snake, ten years afraid of well ropes”?

How tiresome.

He shook his head, grumbling inwardly, yet the corners of his lips still lifted despite himself. Footsteps approached behind him, and Su Huaijing had caught up.

Rong Tang cast him a casual glance but said nothing, continuing to stroll ahead as if nothing had happened.

On the way, they ran into Yuanyuan and Ke Hongxue, who had tired themselves out playing. The latter noticed them returning from the study, calm-faced, and after a moment’s thought, asked quietly, “You’ve persuaded xiong zhang?”

Su Huaijing nodded. Ke Hongxue smiled and turned to Rong Tang. “I knew it. Seems young Prince holds more sway than both Xiao Su and I put together.”

Rong Tang caught the teasing in his tone and didn’t bother to reply. He simply led Yuanyuan off to the side to play.

Su Huaijing said, “Xiong zhang will likely be resting for the next few months. What are your plans?”

Ke Hongxue didn’t hesitate. “Naturally, I’ll keep him company.”

Su Huaijing suggested, “Why not go to Jiangnan?”

Ke Hongxue blinked. “Hmm?”

“Jiangnan’s mountains and rivers are perfect for recuperation. Your ancestral home’s down south too. It would be entirely reasonable to return for a while. Being further from the capital wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

Ke Hongxue’s brows furrowed slightly. There was a brief flicker of hesitation and worry, but he quickly brushed it off, casually twirling his folding fan as he smiled. “Do you want me to do something?”

Su Huaijing replied plainly, “Mother is heading to Jiangnan to open a school. She’s going alone, and I’m not at ease.”

Ke Hongxue grinned. “All right, I’ll help Lady Wang with the arrangements. Consider me your mother-in-law’s unpaid bodyguard.”

Su Huaijing added, “And look after my xiong zhang too.”

Ke Hongxue raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need to remind me?”

Su Huaijing: “Thanks.”

Ke Hongxue gave a light laugh. “No need.” As they passed one another, however, he added more seriously, “Take care of yourself.”

Su Huaijing paused slightly, nodded subtly. “I will.”

And then they parted ways.

Rong Tang said goodbye to Ke Hongxue and got into the carriage with Su Huaijing, heading back to Yong’an Lane.

The moment the carriage doors shut, sealing the space, the two exchanged a glance—and spoke at the same time:

“Did you poison xiong zhang?”

“Has Sheng Chengli changed bodies?”

They both froze.

Su Huaijing let out a long sigh and pulled Rong Tang into a hug. Whether in frustration or resignation, she sighed again. “If only you were a bit dimmer, Tangtang. Why can’t I hide anything from you?”

Rong Tang countered, “That’s rich coming from you.”

Rather than relying on Mu Jingxu’s acting or the palace physicians’ skills, it was far safer to simply drug or needle him in a way that mimicked real symptoms. That way, no risk of discovery.

As for Sheng Chengli’s new ‘shell’…

Rong Tang shook his head.

Why are you so clever?

Su Huaijing held him for a while before asking, “Tangtang, would you like to come to Jiangnan with xiong zhang? The Ke family is powerful in the south. Ke Hongxue comes from a well-established household. It’s the perfect place to spend the winter.”

Rong Tang was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

The arms around his waist tightened slightly, then just as quickly loosened. Su Huaijing feigned a casual tone. “We’ll have Shuang Fu and the others pack your things when we get back—”

Rong Tang cut him off. “But we’ll need to get divorced first.”

Su Huaijing choked on his words, staring at him in disbelief.

Rong Tang hesitated briefly, then frowned slightly, as if weighing something. “Or I could just write you a letter of dismissal. I’ll go off to Jiangnan, live as I please, and help Mother while I’m at it.”

Su Huaijing stood there in a daze, until it finally dawned on him that Rong Tang was joking. He gritted his teeth and growled, “Rong. Tang.”

Rong Tang remained completely unfazed. He rolled his eyes and replied coolly, “There’s something wrong with your thinking. Sleep in the study tonight and reflect on your actions.”

First he shipped off his brother, then he had Ke Hongxue head south to look after Wang Xiuyu, and now he was asking if Rong Tang wanted to leave too.

How was that not a problem with his thinking? Rong Tang didn’t even bother to call him out.

Su Huaijing was seething, but clearly in the wrong. By the time Shuang Shou, eyes filled with pity, finished laying out the bedding in the study, he still hadn’t managed to get within three feet of Rong Tang.

—

The next day, Mu Jingxu began feigning illness.

Everything unfolded according to plan. The very instant Lil’ Bro Mu collapsed in Jinluan Hall, the Emperor on the dragon throne spat out a mouthful of blood as well.

The court descended into chaos, like a market at full tilt.

Su Huaijing stood motionless. He sensed someone watching him and looked up. A young prince, robed in finery, was gazing at him from afar.

Across a lacquered red pillar traced with gold, Sheng Chengli met his eyes.

No one could say how long they stared—perhaps a moment, perhaps longer. Morning sunlight poured into the most solemn and imposing hall of the palace. Su Huaijing bowed slightly, raised a hand in salute, and let the corner of his mouth curl into a faint smile.

It was the gesture a subject ought to give a prince.

And also, through all the ages, the gesture exchanged—

Just before the battle begins.

The courtesy between gentlemen.

Even if Sheng Chengli wasn’t entirely worthy of it.