…… Beauty lies in the dark.
Her body felt unbearably heavy—so heavy she could not even lift a finger.
She couldn’t tell whether she was awake or asleep, whether her eyes were open or closed. Thought slipped away; her mind was empty, stripped bare.
It seemed someone was carrying her, though the movements were anything but gentle.
(I know gentler hands…)
Xiuli drifted in and out of awareness as she was lifted and taken somewhere unknown. Powerless, weightless—
and then, suddenly, she felt as though she had crossed into another realm altogether. Something beyond the human world, beyond breath and light.
Darkness. A complete, consuming darkness.
She had been in the dark moments ago, yet now the blackness pressed against her skin—heavier, thicker, absolute.
(Eternal darkness.)
The phrase rose, unbidden, chilling her heart.
Her body was set down carelessly. Rough fabric was tied around her mouth. Someone—maybe more than one—was speaking, but she could not hear clearly. The voices seemed far away, muffled by the veil of darkness.
Somewhere distant, as though resisting the void, Xiuli sensed an interruption.
“Besides the incense bell—is there anyone else?”
After receiving Jiang You’s report, Liu Hui bit his lip. The girl who had collapsed—Xiangling—had no injuries, merely unconscious.
“The incense powder she carried had already been swapped for a harmless one,” Jiang You explained. “Despite our surveillance, someone still managed to take Xiuli Niangniang. They vanished like smoke. Their skill must be extraordinary.”
Liu Hui and his men had noticed something was wrong and had kept a close watch on Xiangling. But before she could complete her mission, someone else had struck first.
“At least we’ve uncovered her motive and the mastermind behind her,” Jiang You added, voice dipped in mockery. “No doubt this turn of events was beyond ‘that person’s’ expectations.”
Xiuli’s abduction was being kept strictly secret. For now, their enemy remained unaware of the chaos.
After a moment of silent thought, Liu Hui made his decision.
“Yuying—detain ‘that person’ immediately. Search the main residence, the villa, every connected property. Minimize resistance. Request support from both wings of the Yulin Army.”
“Understood.”
A bright gleam flashed in Yuying’s eyes.
“Jiang You, you will monitor the incense bell. Report only to Shao Ke. And summon all physicians—Tao Yuyi included.”
Tao Yuyi, one of the highest-ranking imperial physicians, was never called at this hour. But Liu Hui knew this wasn’t the moment to hesitate.
“I wanted to move cautiously,” he admitted, “but we no longer have that luxury. This must end today. If there are casualties on our side, we must be ready. Gather every medical resource from the palace. Prepare everything.”
“I obey.” Jiang You hesitated. “Your Majesty… there is still someone whose whereabouts remain unknown.”
Liu Hui fell silent. Jiang You’s eyes sharpened.
“In these circumstances, Jinglan’s disappearance is too strange. Jinglan—”
“Impossible!”
Liu Hui cut him off sharply.
“Do you have proof?” Jiang You pressed.
“No—”
“Then that isn’t reason enough.”
Liu Hui frowned but did not look offended. Yuying watched him quietly.
“…Your Majesty,” she asked suddenly, “you didn’t give flowers to Jinglan, did you? Why?”
“…I didn’t think it necessary.”
Liu Hui murmured, “Jinglan and Xiuli would never betray me. I do not need tokens to confirm their loyalty. Just as you accepted the flowers of your own will, and I never doubted you.”
“Oh? So Your Majesty thinks highly of us.”
“This isn’t praise—only truth,” Liu Hui answered earnestly. “Both of them are stubborn, upright, proud to the point of arrogance. They rejected countless favors, offered resignations repeatedly. But they have unwavering conviction, and they never bow to corruption.”
Yuying and Jiang You exchanged glances.
…Is this supposed to be praise?
It felt surprisingly pleasant. Both hid faint smiles.
“So Your Majesty believes Jinglan is innocent?”
“Yes.”
Liu Hui’s gentle smile held no trace of doubt.
Yuying grinned.
“Then Your Majesty… has passed.”
She pulled a letter from her robe.
“This is Jinglan’s letter. He asked it not be shown to anyone. But since Your Majesty trusts him so deeply… you should see this.”
Liu Hui’s eyes fixed on the letter. Jiang You leaned in, read a few lines—and his eyes flew wide.
Liu Hui’s hand trembled around the paper.
“Catalpa… Yuying, you already knew?”
“I remembered his swordsmanship… so I made private inquiries.”
Liu Hui lowered his head, shame tightening his voice.
“…I never noticed.”
“No wonder,” Yuying said gently. “Seeing him, no one would guess he is only twenty-one.”
Liu Hui wiped his eyes quickly. There were more urgent matters to attend to.
“Wait.”
Jiang You reread the letter, then frowned.
“If Jinglan left this behind… does that mean he intends to act alone?”
“Yes. He must have found a clue.”
Yuying nodded. Liu Hui grabbed his arm, alarmed.
“If you knew—why didn’t you stop him? If something happens to Jinglan—!”
“Your Majesty, calm yourself. If he’s gone to confront ‘that person’, he should be safe. Because—”
An object whistled through the open window.
Yuying reacted instantly, shielding Liu Hui. She darted to the window, scanned the area, then sighed in irritation.
“…Too fast. Crimson.”
A black-feathered arrow was embedded in the floor. Jiang You quickly untied the note. Liu Hui snatched it and read, eyes blazing.
“Your Majesty…”
“Yuying. Jiangyou. Proceed exactly as planned. I will go alone.”
“You are not going alone,” Yuying warned.
Before she could finish, the tip of Liu Hui’s sword touched her throat. The motion was so swift that Jiang You didn’t see when the sword was drawn.
In the next second, Liu Hui sheathed it with equal grace.
“I am going alone. Anyone who follows will only slow me down.”
“…So it’s true,” Yuying murmured, a faint smile tugging her lips.
“If circumstances allow, I hope to cross blades with Your Majesty someday.”
“After this is over,” Liu Hui said, smiling at last.
The room was lightly perfumed despite its disguise as a derelict chamber. The furnishings were elegant, orderly.
But in Jinglan’s indifferent gaze, none of that existed—only the man before him.
“It has been many years… Prince Qingyuan,” Cha Taibao said with his usual gentle smile.
“Where is the young lady?”
Jinglan’s sword was already pointed at his throat. Cha Taibao did not flinch.
“…Would you hear a story?” he asked.
“What do you want? I am not the person you think.”
Cha Taibao laughed softly.
“When I look at you, I recall the distant past, Prince Qingyuan.”
The sword pressed closer to his neck, yet Cha Taibao’s tone remained calm.
“When I served your father, the era was filled with war… a turning point in history. I fought beside Xiao and Song, striving desperately to rise from the low-born tea family. I wanted to reach the top.”
“…And you succeeded. Your status is unshakable. Why betray everything?”
“Because I made a bet.”
“…A bet?”
“Yes. I learned something—no matter how high I climbed, I could never surpass the sky. Your father was that sky. Even if I commanded the red and blue families… His Majesty would always stand above me. Effort meant nothing before a genius.”
His voice was calm, almost serene.
“Xiao is the same. He has no interest in fame or power. He could command the court, yet he seeks nothing. His presence alone reminded me I was ordinary. I hated him for that. Hated that he stood above me effortlessly.”
Jinglan remained silent. A mortal’s resentment had centuries of weight behind it.
Cha Taibao spoke as if confessing a lifelong truth.
“To climb, to surpass, to prove oneself—that is pleasure. I have almost achieved everything. Except one thing.”
He lifted his gaze.
“To surpass the sky.”
The fragrance in the room thickened, dizzying.
Jinglan tightened his grip on his sword. The old man’s words—dangerous, persuasive—pressed into his mind.
“To surpass the sky,” Cha Taibao repeated. “That is my final goal. If I lose, I lose everything. But at my age, I have nothing left to fear.”
“That’s why you—Xiuli?”
“The girl is clever, and His Highness Liu Hui is far too fond of her. I wished to send my granddaughter, but His Majesty wanted her instead. So I sought other ways. That was when I discovered you… Prince Qingyuan.”
Jinglan’s expression sharpened.
“I said—I am NOT Qingyuan!”
“Your eyes are the same as the young king’s. As long as you cannot prove otherwise, no one will doubt your return. They will raise you as their new ruler.”
“Nonsense! The rightful king is Liu Hui! Do you wish to repeat the disaster of eight years ago?”
“No need for chaos. Once His Majesty dies—by unfortunate accident, perhaps—the throne will be empty.”
Jinglan’s expression froze.
“…What did you do?”
“Your throne is prepared. Stay here quietly until the time comes.”
“What did you do to Liu Hui?!”
Jinglan swung his sword, slicing the wall beside Cha Taibao. The old man remained calm.
“You still love him. Only you truly care for His Highness—because you share the same fate, do you not?”
“No.”
The word slipped out, but Jinglan didn’t care.
“Because he loves me like a true brother—without condition. He is my anchor. If not for him, I would’ve been lost long ago.
When I was forced to leave the palace, I thought only of him—my little brother who always hid his sorrow alone. How could I abandon him?”
He raised his head, eyes burning.
“I will not regret. Not again.”
“Tell me what you did!”
“…It seems the prince refuses to obey.”
Jinglan’s gaze filled with pity.
“You are obsessed, Cha Taibao. This path is impossible.”
“What?”
“The court’s loyalties have already shifted. Lan Yuying and Li Jiangyou have chosen their ruler and will die before betraying him. If you place a puppet on the throne, they will tear everything apart—including you.”
Cha Taibao stiffened. Jinglan smiled coldly.
“And my brother is not as foolish as you think. Nor am I as obedient.”
“…Then I must force obedience.”
He struck the incense burner. It shattered. The thick, stupefying scent filled the air.
Masked men burst into the room.
Cha Taibao covered his face with cloth.
“Your proud Highness Liu Hui is already on his way to the underworld with Concubine Hong.”
“Seize him! House arrest!”
The masked men swarmed. Jinglan met them head-on.
Cha Taibao slipped away as Jinglan cut down several attackers—but dizziness slammed into him. His knees hit the floor. The sword slipped from his grasp.
“This incense is potent, isn’t it?”
The mocking voice echoed. Jinglan could barely lift his head.
“Tea…”
“Rest well. When next you wake, you will be on the throne.”
Jinglan was forced down, consciousness slipping.
But he refused to fall.
With trembling hands, he tore the dagger from his waist and stabbed it into his thigh. Pain burned clarity through the fog.
He broke free—
and hurled the blood-stained dagger at Cha Taibao.
It struck his back.
But the masked men seized Jinglan, slamming him into the floor. Darkness took him.
Cha Taibao staggered, blood soaking his robe. He looked back.
Then—
A whisper of wind.
In an instant, half the masked men’s heads fell to the floor. The rest collapsed a heartbeat later. Blood sprayed upward in identical jets.
It was as though death had swept through with an invisible scythe.
Only Jinglan and Cha Taibao remained.
No—
someone else stood between them.
A figure appeared, shaking blood from a curved blade.
“His Majesty has marked you. General Lan is on his way. Surrender while you can.”
“…How?”
“The girl you sent—the incense bell—left clues.”
“Impossible! I told her NOTHING!”
The figure nodded.
“She admired you. Wanted to help you. Her attempt to kill Concubine Hong exposed you.”
Cha Taibao stared.
“I heard… eight years ago, Xiangling almost starved at your gates, until you took her in?”
The assassin smiled faintly.
Cha Taibao shook his head.
“Impossible. Zhucui never mentioned this.”
“Ah… Zhucui,” the assassin murmured. “Then you must know the Wind Wolf. Only three people can command her—the former king, myself, and Grand Master Xiao.”
Cha Taibao froze.
“So… you are the Black Wolf…”
He burst into laughter.
“So he knew! He always knew! I was dancing in his palm—until the end… Xiao!!”
His laughter died. He turned.
“You too! I actually kept the old man in the dark from beginning to end, but I didn’t expect you to be the ‘black wolf’ next to His Majesty the late king. ——Take the prince away.”
No matter what happens, he will always remain himself; his style will never be tarnished. Power, status, defeat, even age cannot touch him. What sustains him is a heart proud and unyielding beyond measure.
He said firmly:
“The old man will not let you take this old life.”
Even as blood flowed down his back, Cha Taibao walked away with calm, measured steps, and the “black wolf” did not pursue.
The “black wolf” lowered his gaze, then gently lifted Jinglan from the bloodied floor. Seeing the wound on his leg, he frowned, carefully laid him down again, applied a brief bandage, and stroked Jinglan’s blood-stained, bruised face.
“……It’s really messy. It’s better to pass out obediently; at least then, you could be rescued unharmed……”
After murmuring, his expression hardened, and the grim “black wolf” lifted his face. He had to go—there was another place to attend to.
Shuri groggily opened her eyes. Darkness enveloped her vision.
“…………？”
She turned slowly, sat up, her body heavy, tingling in her head, realizing the cloth binding her mouth had been removed sideways.
（……Where…… am I?）
It was certainly not her own palace. Xiuli pressed her forehead, trying to recall: incense powder, sleepy after tea… fragments of memory before passing out.
（……Could it be…… a kidnapping?）
The thought sent a chill down her spine. The body’s heaviness, the gag-like cloth—everything fit this terrifying possibility. Her face drained of color. She had to return quickly!
But standing was almost impossible, her vision spinning. She groped in the darkness for support, but found nothing.
（……Was I drugged……?）
The oppressive darkness threatened to swallow her; it felt as though a hand could reach out at any moment to drag her into the abyss. Her fear made her break into a cold sweat.
（……Forward then……）
Trembling, Xiuli crawled forward. Fear and anticipation twisted through her veins. The darkness was suffocating, unlike anything she had felt before, threatening to crush her like some unseen entity. Something was wrong with this place——her movement slowed.
A sudden light pierced the corner of her vision, slicing through the darkness to reveal a figure. Xiuli’s urge to call for help faltered.
（……What if it’s a bad person……）
Knowing there was someone else present, relief mingled with caution. Calmly, she tried to assess: two floors, perhaps more. Her fear diminished slightly, and she resumed crawling, careful of unseen pitfalls.
Her hand reached out to a railing-like structure, gripping it for support as she rose, unsteady.
——Then, a hand suddenly seized her arm from behind.
……Step back.
Liu Hui entered Xiandong Province. The multi-story building, remote yet elegant, had long been forbidden territory. Doors unopenable, treasures rumored inside, countless failed thieves—mortals dared not enter. But today, the door cracked open.
Liu Hui’s hand tightened on his sword hilt, pushing into the shadowed hall. Hesitation gripped him; darkness alone had always been a torment.
A clash of metal, sparks flying. The opponent was unprepared, giving Liu Hui the advantage. Each sword strike was precise, a lifetime of training applied—one blow after another, each killing or wounding with deadly efficiency.
“……Tsk, why haven’t I heard his martial arts are this strong!”
A voice in the dark guided him. Liu Hui threw a short sword, the shriek confirming a strike. Only three foes remained.
The last two lunged, but misjudged their target. Swiftly, Liu Hui slew them, leaving one trembling.
“——Where is Xiuli?” His voice, cold and piercing, froze even seasoned killers.
“Say!”
The injured assassin, shoulder impaled, chose suicide over confession. Two more thuds echoed.
“——Here! The noble concubine is here!”
Xiuli, tied and gagged, struggled in the darkness above, realizing the assassins were trying to trap Liu Hui. Panic rose as she twisted helplessly, her hairpin falling to the floor. She kicked it hard—its clatter drew the men’s attention—and finally freed her mouth.
——“Liu Hui! It’s not me! Fool———!!”
Liu Hui smiled faintly.
“——I know.”
In the next instant, the remaining assassins fell, pierced by his swords. Liu Hui reassured Xiuli, cut her ropes, and held her.
“……Fortunately, you are safe.” Xiuli exhaled, her grip weak.
“……Thank you. It’s so dark here, you must have been terrified. ……I’m sorry, the hairpin—”
“It doesn’t matter. It served its purpose. Now, as long as you’re here, I fear nothing.”
Softly, Liu Hui hummed. Xiuli’s arms instinctively wrapped around his back. But her grip faltered, and her body sagged, pressed to his chest.
“……Beautiful?” Liu Hui’s voice softened as he steadied her.
Yu Ying and Jiang You observed quietly, reflecting on past events—Cha Taibao’s loyalty, Xiangling’s tragic misunderstanding, sacrifices, and unspoken devotion.
Cha Taibao, bloodied, walked steadfastly toward the eastern horizon as dawn broke. Fifty years of camaraderie, battles, and relentless pursuit of Yuanxun weighed in every step.
“……Are you really old?”
“……No.”
The man appeared, rejuvenated, a living memory of youth. Cha Taibao’s eyes, unwavering, met his own.
“It’s precisely because of you that I’ve chased after you, Xiao.”
Fifty years of rivalry, respect, and unspoken affection culminated in a moment of quiet understanding, laughter, and shared memory.
Meanwhile, Liu Hui faced a dire choice in another chamber. Xiuli and Jinglan’s lives hung in the balance. Antidotes and poisons lay before him; his hand hovered, resolve hardening.
“……You are still the same.” He gritted his teeth, finally extending his hand toward the medicine.
Outside, Grand Master Xiao watched calmly, his figure fading as decisions of life and death echoed through the quiet halls.
“You too! I actually kept the old man in the dark from beginning to end, but I didn’t expect you to be the ‘black wolf’ next to His Majesty the late king. ——Take the prince away.”
No matter what happens, he will always remain himself; his style will never be tarnished. Power, status, defeat, even age cannot touch him. What sustains him is a heart proud and unyielding beyond measure.
He said firmly:
“The old man will not let you take this old life.”
Even as blood flowed down his back, Cha Taibao walked away with calm, measured steps, and the “black wolf” did not pursue.
The “black wolf” lowered his gaze, then gently lifted Jinglan from the bloodied floor. Seeing the wound on his leg, he frowned, carefully laid him down again, applied a brief bandage, and stroked Jinglan’s blood-stained, bruised face.
“……It’s really messy. It’s better to pass out obediently; at least then, you could be rescued unharmed……”
After murmuring, his expression hardened, and the grim “black wolf” lifted his face. He had to go—there was another place to attend to.
Shuri groggily opened her eyes. Darkness enveloped her vision.
“…………？”
She turned slowly, sat up, her body heavy, tingling in her head, realizing the cloth binding her mouth had been removed sideways.
（……Where…… am I? ）
It was certainly not her own palace. Xiuli pressed her forehead, trying to recall incense powder, sleepy after tea… fragments of memory before passing out.
（……Could it be…… a kidnapping? ）
The thought sent a chill down her spine. The body’s heaviness, the gag-like cloth—everything fit this terrifying possibility. Her face drained of color. She had to return quickly!
But standing was almost impossible, her vision spinning. She groped in the darkness for support but found nothing.
（……Was I drugged……? ）
The oppressive darkness threatened to swallow her; it felt as though a hand could reach out at any moment to drag her into the abyss. Her fear made her break into a cold sweat.
（……Forward then……）
Trembling, Xiuli crawled forward. Fear and anticipation twisted through her veins. The darkness was suffocating, unlike anything she had felt before, threatening to crush her like some unseen entity. Something was wrong with this place——her movement slowed.
A sudden light pierced the corner of her vision, slicing through the darkness to reveal a figure. Xiuli’s urge to call for help faltered.
（……What if it’s a bad person……）
Knowing there was someone else present, relief mingled with caution. Calmly, she tried to assess: two floors, perhaps more. Her fear diminished slightly, and she resumed crawling, careful of unseen pitfalls.
Her hand reached out to a railing-like structure, gripping it for support as she rose, unsteady.
——Then, a hand suddenly seized her arm from behind.
……Step back.
Liu Hui entered Xiandong Province. The multi-story building, remote yet elegant, had long been forbidden territory. Doors unopenable, treasures rumored inside, countless failed thieves—mortals dared not enter. But today, the door cracked open.
Liu Hui’s hand tightened on his sword hilt, pushing into the shadowed hall. Hesitation gripped him; darkness alone had always been a torment.
A clash of metal, sparks flying. The opponent was unprepared, giving Liu Hui the advantage. Each sword strike was precise, a lifetime of training applied—one blow after another, each killing or wounding with deadly efficiency.
“……Tsk, why haven’t I heard his martial arts are this strong!”
A voice in the dark guided him. Liu Hui threw a short sword, the shriek confirming a strike. Only three foes remained.
The last two lunged, but misjudged their target. Swiftly, Liu Hui slew them, leaving one trembling.
“——Where is Xiuli?” His voice, cold and piercing, froze even seasoned killers.
“Say!”
The injured assassin, shoulder impaled, chose suicide over confession. Two more thuds echoed.
“——Here! The noble concubine is here!”
Xiuli, tied and gagged, struggled in the darkness above, realizing the assassins were trying to trap Liu Hui. Panic rose as she twisted helplessly, her hairpin falling to the floor. She kicked it hard—its clatter drew the men’s attention—and finally freed her mouth.
——“Liu Hui! It’s not me! Fool———!!”
Liu Hui smiled faintly.
“——I know.”
In the next instant, the remaining assassins fell, pierced by his swords. Liu Hui reassured Xiuli, cut her ropes, and held her.
“……Fortunately, you are safe.” Xiuli exhaled, her grip weak.
“……Thank you. It’s so dark here, you must have been terrified. ……I’m sorry, the hairpin—”
“It doesn’t matter. It served its purpose. Now, as long as you’re here, I fear nothing.”
Softly, Liu Hui hummed. Xiuli’s arms instinctively wrapped around his back. But her grip faltered, and her body sagged, pressed to his chest.
“……Beautiful?” Liu Hui’s voice softened as he steadied her.
——Jiang You.
Yu Ying’s voice called softly, yet with an undercurrent of urgency. Jiang You turned, expressionless as ever, her gaze steady but cold.
“How is the incense bell?” Yu Ying asked, her voice low, as if speaking might awaken lingering ghosts.
“……If you see her now, she would surely be dead.”
Before them lay the pale face of the girl on the bed, her features delicate and ghostly, with tears that had not yet dried at the corners of her eyes.
After that fateful incident, Xiangling had realized that her rash actions had exposed Cha Taibao’s hidden ambitions. Overcome with guilt and despair, she had cut her wrists in secret while the guards were inattentive. On the desk lay a neatly folded letter, detailing that all responsibility lay with her own hand, sparing Cha Taibao any blame.
“……That is why I have always said women are foolish, blind to consequences,” Yu Ying muttered, her voice tinged with bitter resignation. “And why did Cha Taibao not implicate her? Without foresight, she acted recklessly and finally sought death through her own hand.”
Xiangling had barely survived starvation before being taken in and carefully trained to serve in the harem—a life in which she had always been protected and valued.
“The incense bell… she bears an uncanny resemblance to you,” Yu Ying whispered, her words soft as a breeze over still water.
“She was taken in as a child, raised with meticulous care, and… loyal to her savior,” Yu Ying continued.
Jiang You’s fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists. Yu Ying gently hooked her arm around Jiang You, drawing her closer.
“……Yet you are not the same.”
Yuying hummed knowingly.
“Seeing you rush headlong into recklessness, I have assumed the task of guiding you back from the start,” she said, half in jest, half in earnest.
Jiang You said nothing in protest. She leaned her forehead against Yuying’s shoulder, teeth grinding tightly in frustration.
“……Stupid woman.”
Cha Taibao had always treasured incense bells. Even if they were later transformed into beautiful personal maids, he refused to involve them in his plans. Entering the harem was a safeguard—a promise of wealth and security. If misfortune struck, at least the future of Xiangling would be secured. Yet Xiangling could not comprehend the careful, painstaking intentions of Cha Taibao, who sought to protect her even from himself.
Still, Jiang You understood Xiangling’s fearless resolve. She grasped that Cha Taibao’s kindness was as vast as a mountain, and she wished to repay it in her own way—just as Xiangling had.
（……For those who save lives, the savior becomes an absolute presence.）
Jiang You’s murmured words were cold as glass beads, reflecting the depths of her inner resolve.
Cha Taibao trudged forward. The blood staining his back could not hinder his steps.
——Dawn was breaking.
The east spouted pale light, the sky shifting from deep blue to soft purple. He arrived at the solitary great tree atop the hill. Curiously, no pursuers appeared—Lan Yuying’s men who should have been swarming the city were nowhere in sight.
Squinting at the fish-belly white horizon, Cha Taibao’s mind wandered to countless dawns greeted with Xiao and Song, galloping across endless battlefields alongside the former king. No matter the hour, no matter the place, he had poured his life into devotion, burning every moment to its fullest.
“……Are you really old?”
“……No.”
A voice emerged from the ground, calm yet carrying the weight of familiarity. Cha Taibao did not flinch. He glanced back and slowly curled the corners of his lips into a faint, knowing smile.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
The man he had waited for stepped onto the turf, each movement fluid, his gray hair regaining its black luster, the wrinkles of years fading, his posture light and erect. Step by step, he rejuvenated, and yet Cha Taibao stared unblinking, unsurprised.
Facing the man, upright and even in build, Cha Taibao snorted coldly. ——Exactly as he had been in youth.
——Hmph! That face… so familiar. Where has your beard gone?
“……What clings to it is not a beard. You should be surprised, shouldn’t you?” The youthful voice rang with faint reproach. Cha Taibao recognized the tone as vividly as he did the face.
“Fool, my heart is not so fragile; how could I fuss over the favors you do?”
Cha Taibao sneered, and the man laughed. Few knew that behind this ordinary appearance lay a person far from ordinary.
“……You haven’t changed at all. Brilliant, yet still prone to foolish acts,” the man murmured, his lips curling as he spoke Cha Yuanxun’s name.
“……Why me? Why would your aim be me? You should know, Yuanxun… ‘I am not the ordinary person you think.’”
“——It’s you.”
Cha Taibao’s gaze locked on the man before him. This was the goal he had chased all his life, always a step ahead, until the very end—he remained untouchable, aloof, above all else.
“It is precisely because of you that I pursue, Xiao.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly, but Cha Taibao did not waver.
“It does not matter who you are; what I chase is not your shadow, but the one before me!”
The man’s lips curved into a wry smile, tinged with subtle joy.
“……You truly are a weirdo.”
His hand reached out to Cha Taibao’s chest; he did not retreat. His gaze remained fixed, unblinking, as if searching the depths of Cha Taibao’s soul. Xiao’s hand pressed into his chest, yet not a drop of blood was shed. Cha Taibao felt his vision blur, unsteady.
“……Fifty years together, you, me, and Song—the three of us.”
The man’s voice, soft yet laden with memories, made Cha Taibao chuckle, recalling decades past.
“——Yes.”
Cha Taibao replied, emotion threading his voice. Fifty years of pursuit, struggle, and silent devotion.
“The thing I have hated most is you, always ahead of me, walking leisurely.”
The man’s hands pressed into Cha Taibao’s chest, and he smiled with gentle pity.
“Yuanxun, stubborn as ever. In the end, I still like you—truly.”
Yuanxun’s glare hardened, memories of youth and battlefield gallops flashing behind his eyes.
“……My greatest wish was to utterly refute you, even once.”
“What nonsense is that?”
The man’s arm circled deep, embracing Yuanxun with effortless familiarity.
“From then until now, how many times have you been rendered speechless?”
Cha Taibao’s body stilled. No pain, only a heavy, encompassing drowsiness.
The man whispered into his ear, voice soft as silk:
“——Yuanxun, you still like me, don’t you? Even willing to give me your life.”
“Hmph——……”
Cha Taibao’s eyelids drifted down, closing slowly.
“Mandarin ducks——”
Grand Master Xiao pressed Cha Taibao’s body close, a faint, sorrowful smile on his lips.
“Yuanxun, I have loved you deeply always——I should have left long ago, but I remained in this land, fifty years… as mortals grow old, who is it for?”
In Zichen Hall, the female officials’ faces were pale, bustling with worry.
Liu Hui’s expression stood blank before a door. Inside, Xiuli and the grievously injured Jinglan waited.
The door creaked open softly. Liu Hui raised his head to see the haggard Imperial Doctor and Song Taifu emerge. Song Taifu’s anger erupted immediately:
“Stupid apprentice! You could not even protect your beloved woman!!”
“Song Taifu, Imperial Doctor Tao, explain… Jinglan… and Xiuli.”
Tao Yuyi’s face was bluish with worry.
“……Though the guards are severely injured, Song Taifu’s skill stabilized them, but… the Red Noble Concubine…”
“How is she!” Liu Hui demanded.
Tao Yuyi’s voice was solemn:
“……The antidote held by His Majesty—supposedly a panacea—fortunately, the lady took it first, neutralizing most of the poison. But… only one dose remains.”
Imperial Doctor Tao hung his head in frustration.
“This is a toxicity unknown to Weichen. In short… there is no immediate cure. Even if investigated, preparation will take three days at minimum. The poison in her system will spread within half a day at earliest, one full day at latest.”
“You mean… what…?”
Liu Hui’s mind struggled to grasp it.
Xiuli’s life—was in grave danger. Dangerous—dire——
“Impossible!” he roared, voice shaking with disbelief.
“Impossible! How could Xiuli… life endangered? The Solitary Association prepared all medicinal materials, all precious herbs in the kingdom will be gathered! Hurry to detoxify her!”
“Your Majesty…”
“Are you not the Imperial Doctor, sworn to the king? The greatest in the land! Who else, if not you, can solve this!?”
Liu Hui was speechless. Suppressed emotions erupted, tears spilling freely.
“……Don’t leave…”
He could not articulate the torrent within him. Silent as snowflakes, accumulating in the depths of his heart.
Whether he returned to the city or loved another, he would feel the loneliness—but he had grown to take initiative, no longer powerless before loss.
As long as “this day” came, the wait was worth it, no matter how long—like the long wait for a beloved in the past.
But he would not allow her to slip beyond his reach.
He could not accept letting go, losing the warmth of her hand…
Liu Hui buried his face in his hands.
At that moment, Grand Master Xiao appeared, calm as ever. His voice penetrated Liu Hui’s despair:
“——Your Majesty, perhaps you can obtain the antidote.”
Alone in another room, Grand Master Xiao placed two small medicine bottles on the table.
“One is highly toxic, the other an antidote.”
A sly smile curved Xiao’s lips:
“Which will you choose?”
Liu Hui glared, fury blazing, his gaze piercing Grand Master Xiao.
“……Still the same. Always like this,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
Next, Liu Hui slowly stretched out his hand toward the small medicine bottle.
Dawn crept quietly across the sky. Grand Master Xiao walked alone along the secluded path leading toward Xiandong Province.
Leng Bu’s throat pressed against the cold blade, yet his expression did not shift.
“—Too dangerous, ‘Black Wolf.’”
“Xiuli and Jinglan... how are they?”
Grand Master Xiao chuckled softly.
“The legendary assassin who once served the former king—when your daughter and servants are involved, you forget who your master is?”
“Please answer me.”
Shao Ke gripped the dagger with heavy resolve. Grand Master Xiao maintained a leisurely smile.
“His Highness Liu Hui grows more kingly by the day.”
—Forced into a choice, Liu Hui’s hand reached for the medicine bottle, then swept both bottles off the table. Glass shattered; Liu Hui didn’t even glance down.
...Licentious!
Liu Hui’s eyes blazed.
You want me to choose? He had expected this test long before it came. Both bottles are poison.
There was no time for tricks. Liu Hui spoke bluntly, confronting Grand Master Xiao and naming his terms.
“Give me the antidote—in exchange, I will fulfill a wish of your heart.”
“My heart’s desire?”
Annoyed by the feigned confusion, Liu Hui’s brows drew tight.
“That’s why you did all of this. Don’t hide it.”
Grand Master Xiao giggled.
“In negotiation, you must know both your own bottom line and the other party’s. Timing is everything... well done, Your Highness. You’ve seen through me.”
“...Then does this mean the negotiation is established?”
“Indeed. Lady Xiuli should already be recovering. Does that ease your mind?”
Shao Ke lowered the dagger, expression cold.
“...Grand Master Xiao—you have not changed at all since the reign of the previous king.”
“Oh? That’s an amusing statement.”
“You’ve always been like this,” Shao Ke said quietly.
“The king is always your first and only priority—now, and eight years ago.”
Eight years ago, the struggle for the throne tore the kingdom apart. Grand Master Xiao, this old minister who saved the nation from collapse, watched the violent conflict with indifference. He intervened only when absolutely necessary. He ignored the court’s decay and the rivalry among the princes.
“I begged you repeatedly to take action, but you never nodded. You simply waited. Silently. Patiently. Waiting for a king ‘worthy of your allegiance’ to appear. Otherwise, you were ready to abandon the country entirely.”
Grand Master Xiao’s smile remained unchanged.
“But in the end, you supported His Highness Liu Hui. You rebuilt the kingdom at lightning speed, restored order, halted the collapse of farmlands, saved the people, and corrected the court. What should’ve taken twenty years, you completed in a few. You repainted a throne rotted with corruption to welcome His Highness.”
“All for the king.
Not for the country.
Not for the people.”
“This old man, praised as a loyal minister, acts solely for a monarch worthy of allegiance. I don’t know when I first noticed it, but…”
“You care only for the king. You devote everything to the king you’ve chosen. But you are too ruthless in all other things. Thousands die—yet they don’t matter to you. Even if someone’s life is ruined, you remain unmoved. Why? Why do you only see the king? Why such obsession?”
Grand Master Xiao curled the corner of his mouth, smiling faintly.
“Persistence... yes. You’ve described it well. I am persistent. But not toward the king himself—toward a promise I must never break.”
“...A promise?”
“A long, long time ago. I swore loyalty to a king worthy of allegiance. To assist and guide him without selfishness or ambition. To never act for the country or people unless such a king existed. No matter how corrupt the nation, I would not intervene unless such a ruler appeared. I must uphold this vow—no matter what.”
“With whom... did you make such a promise?”
“You need not ask that.”
He continued calmly, “You served the former king for the country and its people. I serve the country and people for the king. The king is everything. If helping the king requires sacrifice—even the sacrifice of my own daughter—so be it.”
Shao Ke’s eyes flared.
“For years, I carried out countless kills under your orders. Your judgment was always accurate, and each life I took further stabilized the reign. Even knowing it was for ulterior motives, I persisted. When peace returned, I disbanded the ‘Wind Wolf’ and vowed to target only the guilty. That has always been my principle.”
“I know. Have I ever broken our agreement?”
“Zhu Cui is one of the Wind Wolves. Yet you used my subordinate—”
“Cha Taibao is a guilty man. He tried to assassinate His Highness Liu Hui.”
“That was your scheme!”
Shao Ke’s voice grew harsh.
Cha Taibao had ambition—but he buried it deep. Grand Master Xiao lured him, widened the crack in his heart, and let it swallow him whole.
Grand Master Xiao remained unfazed.
—He placed Xiuli in the harem.
—Assigned Jinglan as Liu Hui’s attendant.
—Sent Zhu Cui to Cha Taibao.
A perfectly arranged chain.
Through it all, His Highness Liu Hui awakened as a monarch. Cha Taibao was destroyed. And Grand Master Xiao’s hands stayed clean.
“All to shape His Highness Liu Hui into an excellent king,” Shao Ke said.
“Cha Taibao was merely a pawn. Once used, he was discarded.”
He bit down hard.
“If you had accepted the honor the late king wanted to grant, you wouldn’t have been buried in the treasury like this. If you had taken office eight years ago, the country would never have rotted so deeply.”
“That is the only time I regret being in the treasury,” Shao Ke whispered.
Grand Master Xiao laughed suddenly.
“You had room to use your abilities because you weren’t in power.”
He paused.
“Is it about Jinglan? A beautiful name.”
He spoke of Shao Ke’s wife—Jinglan—and their daughter.
“I must thank you for sheltering Prince Qingyuan, teaching His Highness Liu Hui, and entrusting Song with training in martial arts. You raised an excellent daughter.”
Shao Ke’s eyes burned.
“Are you mocking me?”
“No.”
Grand Master Xiao looked up at the moon.
“I thank you sincerely. Because of people like you, the country persists.”
Grand Master Xiao began to walk away. Shao Ke called after him, voice icy:
“I will not let you go.”
“You used Xiuli and Jinglan—two innocent children—as pawn and firewood.”
“I had no intention of killing them.”
“But you wouldn’t have minded if they died!”
Grand Master Xiao said nothing. Shao Ke threw his dagger. It grazed Xiao’s neck, sinking into a tree trunk.
“I will kill you one day.”
Grand Master Xiao turned back with a smile.
“...I’ll be waiting.”
Then he continued toward Xiandong Province.
“Lord Shao Ke.”
Shao Ke turned. Zhu Cui stood behind him, eyes red.
“...Zhu Cui.”
She flinched. Shao Ke asked gently:
“Why did you remain in the palace? I told all of you before—go live your own lives. I owe you all so much... especially you. If I hadn’t taken you in, you wouldn’t have walked this harsh path.”
Zhu Cui lifted her head, tears streaming.
“...Lord Shao, I stayed because I wanted to.”
“You’re too young for this work.”
“Do you regret taking me in?”
Shao Ke was startled. Quickly, he wiped her tears.
“No—never. I only regret not guiding you to a better path. You were always bright and gentle. You deserved a future far more radiant.”
Zhu Cui shook her head violently. All she wanted was to remain by Shao Ke’s side—near his wife, his daughter, everything connected to him. That alone was her purpose.
“...I’m sorry… I’m sorry...” she sobbed.
She looked like a child again.
Shao Ke handed her an embroidered handkerchief. Her eyes widened.
“I found this in the treasury. It said it was for me, but there was no name. The pattern looked familiar. It was you, wasn’t it, Zhu Cui? Thank you.”
He traced the uneven stitches.
“Your embroidery has improved so much. Look at this lion’s mane!”
“...It’s a flower.”
“Huh?”
“The pattern is a flower.”
Shao Ke froze. His expression darkened as Zhu Cui burst out laughing through tears.
Shao Ke sighed, relieved to see her smile. He gently stroked her head.
“...Did that old man tell you Xiuli would be safe?”
Zhu Cui nodded.
“Of course. That devil has lived too comfortably these past years. Even I didn’t notice.”
Shao Ke murmured:
“As a Wolf, you must obey Grand Master Xiao’s orders. It’s my fault for not noticing sooner.”
Zhu Cui cried again. Shao Ke held her shoulders.
“...Were you the one who gave Xiuli the poison?”
“No. I only took her out of the harem and handed her to Cha Taibao’s men. I didn’t know what would happen.”
“Even Tao Yuyi couldn’t detect the poison... so why did Grand Master Xiao have the antidote?”
Shao Ke’s gaze drifted toward Xiandong Province. A chill crawled through him.
Why did Xiao go there now? Only the legendary Eight Immortals of Color had ever entered that tower.
Meanwhile, Grand Master Xiao stood before the towering building, eyes calm.
“...Shao Ke, you misunderstand. I never framed him. All of this was for his wish.”
He lived and died as he willed. Every desire he chased—every action—was his own.
Grand Master Xiao’s expression softened.
“I finally noticed the emotion he held toward me.”
Why me?
He couldn’t understand it.
No matter who I was—even if I was not human—he still pursued me.
Grand Master Xiao smiled from the depths of his heart.
“Mandarin Ducks... I am so happy. Until the very end, you never lost yourself. What I loved was that fierce, unchanging devotion.”
“We understood each other too well. So... I killed you.”
“You, who had more pride than anyone, made your decision long ago.”
“And once you decided... it was my role to complete the ending. To stand at a height you could never reach. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Tea Mandarin Flower.”
He looked up at the white sky.
“You always said you were getting old.”
A faint, sorrowful smile touched his lips.
“You were never old. Until the end, you remained youthful—reckless, brilliant—and forever the man women found irresistible.”
He closed his eyes.
“I envy you, Mandarin Dao. I envy you mortals.”
Next
.jpeg)
.jpeg)
Comments
Post a Comment