Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Pain

Wang Shouzheng remained silent for a moment, then said, “Don’t stop him, no matter what he does. Once I control the water transport, I will deal with him for you.”

Ying Xiu nodded, feeling an inexplicable unease. The gentry of the Southern Dynasty valued their reputation above all else, but Xi An was an exception. Relying on his grandfather, Grand Minister Xi, he acted recklessly. Even if Ying Xiu tried to avoid him, he was sure Xi An would find a way to force him to appear.

Ying Xiu’s premonition was correct. As soon as he walked out of the red gate of the Wang clan, he heard a commotion from the market. A group of street vendors were talking about what they had just seen.

“…A bunch of private soldiers are blocking the gangplank at the docks, not letting the people come ashore. They said they’re waiting for their benefactor to arrive before they let them land.”

“What benefactor? Could it be that handsome young master?”

“Jiangzhou is truly going through a difficult time. Luckily, a young Envoy with the Token came and helped us get our grain back… If I ever have the chance, I must meet him.”

As the vendors spoke, a clear young voice interjected. “Excuse me, sirs, is the place you’re talking about Jianxia district?”

The vendors instinctively answered, “How did you know?” They looked up and only saw the slender, tall back of a youth in a golden robe, walking straight toward Jianxia district.

“Was that him? The Envoy with the Token? His silhouette looks just like him,” one of them said.

“How could it be? All those high-ranking officials travel in carriages with an entourage. How could he be walking? You must have seen wrong,” someone else argued.

Yesterday, the news of the Envoy with the Token ordering the officials to immediately release the grain had spread throughout Jiangzhou. The gentry had a sleepless night, while the people were both happy and anxious. The Yuan River swayed and rippled, just like the people’s uneasy hearts.

At the Sixteen Crossings, people who had returned from fishing were blocked at the dock. In front of them, private soldiers in plain clothes had cut off the gangplank. Those on shore couldn’t go down to the river, and those on the river couldn’t go ashore. They were trapped.

The standoff continued until a golden figure appeared in the distance. Ying Xiu walked alone to the front of the private soldiers and stopped. A soldier looked him up and down and smiled faintly. “My master has been waiting for you for a long time, young sir. Please, go up.” He gestured toward a nearby watchtower, which was actually a two-story tavern with a thatched roof. On the second floor, a red-robed figure was vaguely visible behind the counter.

Ying Xiu said, “Let them come ashore first.”

The soldier’s smile didn’t change. He gestured to his subordinates to clear the way, removing the obstacles from the gangplank. Ying Xiu watched for a moment, then turned and walked into the tavern.

The second floor was empty. Everything had been cleared out except for a table with two small dishes and two ornate cups. The red-robed youth sat lazily on a stool, his head in his hand, watching the stairs.

As soon as Ying Xiu reached the second floor, he walked directly to Xi An and asked, “Why bother them?”

Xi An lifted his chin, signaling for Ying Xiu to drink the wine in the cup. “If you drink this, our past grievances will be gone.”

Ying Xiu paused, then picked up the cup, looked at it, and drank it all without hesitation.

His decisiveness surprised even Xi An, whose expression became complicated. “Aren’t you afraid I poisoned it?”

Ying Xiu replied, “Would you?”

To become an assassin, he had learned how to make poisons. Although he nearly poisoned himself while testing them, he could now tell what was poison and what wasn’t. If this wine was poisoned, he would personally force it down Xi An’s throat.

Xi An was speechless. He had planned this, but he felt like Ying Xiu was the one in control. He leaned back casually and smiled faintly. He had not poisoned the wine, but he had put something else in it. The outside was full of his private soldiers from Ningzhou. No one could get in. All he had to do now was wait for Ying Xiu to break down and beg him for mercy…

Ying Xiu reached up and touched his forehead, then his cheek. “Huh? What did you put in the wine?” He thought for a moment and said apologetically, “I should probably go home now. I’ll have to trouble you for a bit.”

Xi An: “…?” What are you talking about?

The next moment, he watched as the youth in the golden robe stumbled forward. The handsome face suddenly loomed close. Ying Xiu’s slender fingers lightly touched him twice. He didn’t know what pressure points were hit, but he was instantly paralyzed, unable to move.

Ying Xiu walked down the stairs, carrying the red-robed youth with one hand. He walked past the soldiers guarding the outside, who glanced at him, their eyes widening in shock. Concerned for their young master’s safety, the soldiers could only retreat, watching as Ying Xiu lightly tapped the back of Xi An’s neck, causing him to faint. Ying Xiu then gently placed him on a stool.

A group of soldiers immediately rushed forward, carefully examining Xi An, paying no mind to Ying Xiu.

Ying Xiu walked outside. He hadn’t gone far when he suddenly stopped. A hot sensation surged through his limbs, and his head felt dizzy, as if he had drunk two pounds of strong liquor. He ducked into a small alley and used his lightness skill to leap onto a rooftop, walking along the eaves.

After a fifteen-minute walk, he finally arrived at the Lushan Guesthouse. Ying Xiu stood on the roof, feeling dizzy. He vaguely wondered what kind of drug Xi An had used. He was certain the wine was not poisonous.

…So why am I so dizzy?

The youth looked down and finally spotted the man in white among the pavilions. He felt a surge of joy and descended from the sky, throwing himself into the client’s embrace.

Something seemed to fall from the sky and rush toward him. Xie Zhou instinctively and skillfully grabbed the person’s neck. He was about to snap it, but when he looked down and saw it was Ying Xiu, he stopped his movements abruptly and released his hold.

“Pain!”

Ying Xiu gasped in pain. Xie Zhou’s grip was so strong that if he didn’t know Xie Zhou’s personality, he would have thought the man was trying to break his neck. His eyes reddened, and he curled up in the client’s arms. His skin was burning under his thin robe. A feeling of unease slowly climbed his bones, making him instinctively raise his slender neck and rub against him.

The client deftly pinned the youth’s hands and frowned. He reached out to check his forehead. Ying Xiu’s pale, delicate skin was hot to the touch, like melting snow, radiating a scorching heat from the inside out.

…Is he sick again? He didn’t seem to be.

He carefully held this “snow” in his arms and gave an order to the outside. Then, he carried the youth into his own quiet room. Ying Xiu felt the client moving. He wrapped his arms around the man’s broad shoulders and hooked his feet around his lean, strong waist, clinging to Xie Zhou as if for life. The youth’s ponytail swayed, the golden ribbon glistening and occasionally brushing against Xie Zhou’s shoulder, wrapping around his white robe before swinging away.

Ying Xiu reached out to touch Xie Zhou’s neck, his fingers tracing the man’s clean collar. His fingertips brazenly traced the dark embroidered pattern on the fabric over and over again.

The client couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly walked to the bed, unwound the person from his body, and carefully placed him on the bed. The bed felt cold and hard. Ying Xiu was momentarily clear-headed. How could anyone’s bed be so cold and uncomfortable? It felt like sleeping on a stone. He turned over in disbelief, trying to find a softer, warmer spot. After three turns, he nearly hit his head on the wall. Ying Xiu lay still.

On the imperial bed, the bed curtains swayed. Inside, a slender youth lay with his clothes in disarray. The golden robe covered half the bed, and his long, ink-black hair was scattered like a waterfall. Below, his slender, white ankles were hidden behind the mist-like curtains.

The imperial physician only glanced at him before quickly lowering his head and kneeling on the ground, afraid of angering the emperor standing nearby. He stammered, “Your Maj… My lord, I can use a silk thread to diagnose him, so I don’t have to touch the young master.”

After a moment of waiting, he finally heard the emperor, known for his stoicism, speak: “Diagnose.” The single word meant that he agreed to the method.

The physician felt as if he had been granted a great pardon. He carefully took out a red thread from his medicine box and took a step forward. He was about to lift the curtain and tie the thread around the youth’s wrist.

“Wait,” the emperor’s cold voice came from above again. It was a very soft sound, but it made the physician’s hand tremble, almost dropping the thread.

“Give that to me,” a terrifying shadow of authority fell over him. The young tyrant reached out his hand. The physician didn’t dare to look at the emperor’s face and carefully placed the red thread on a sandalwood table, watching as a eunuch disguised as a servant presented the table to His Majesty.

This quiet courtyard, hidden by lush trees, was not what it seemed. The inconspicuous servant was a palace eunuch, the guards were elite imperial bodyguards, and the owner of the courtyard was the current emperor. A group of people who were above all the great gentry families of the capital had come to this small, unknown place, disguised as harmless people. Dangerous beasts, when they hide their fangs and pretend to be harmless, are usually doing so to hunt their desired prey.

The elderly physician knelt on the ground, staring at the shadow cast by the bed curtain. He didn’t dare to ask a single question or say a single word.

Ying Xiu’s sleep was not peaceful. He was incredibly hot, a heat that radiated from his bones, slowly making his pale skin and muscles slick with sweat. His clothes were damp, revealing his fair waist. He trembled slightly, convulsing. He felt like a lamp, from the wick to the surface, melting and becoming a soft, wet pile of ashes.

That damned Xi An. He had actually given him that kind of drug.

The client lifted the bed curtains, as if pulling back a layer of mist. The flower behind the mist was clearly visible. The youth seemed to be mumbling something, his lips parted, revealing his white teeth. Xie Zhou leaned down to listen.

“Xi An… Xi An…” Ying Xiu whispered, hugging the crumpled quilt.

At a time like this, he was calling out someone else’s name. The client stood motionless, the red thread in his hand hanging down, falling onto the youth’s scattered dark hair.

It hurts.

His wrist suddenly ached. It felt as if someone was gripping his slender wrist with an iron clamp, pressing his veins. Then, a thin, long thing was being wrapped around his wrist, circle after circle.

Ying Xiu frowned in his sleep. Why did his neck and hand hurt?