Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The carriage moved smoothly along the mountain path, leaving the shouts of the governor’s son far behind.

Ying Xiu couldn’t hear the faint chirping of birds or the rolling of the wheels. He simply stared, with clear, limpid eyes, at the pale-faced young man in front of him.

Xie Zhou seemed to have reverted to the white-robed retainer from their first meeting. His long, dark eyebrows were pressed low over his eyes, and his beautiful features, now somber and beautiful, held a cold, austere elegance that was unfamiliar to Ying Xiu. He was like a sword sheathed in a box, finally revealing a soul-stirring sharpness due to unspeakable pain.

The assassin’s instinct told Ying Xiu that he should get out of the carriage immediately, leave this place, leave Xie Zhou, and the sooner the better.

Ignoring the intense unease in his heart, Ying Xiu sat on the cushion and slowly leaned towards Xie Zhou, carefully inching closer. He cautiously extended his fingertips, placing them gently on Xie Zhou’s slender waist through a layer of cold white cloth.

Then, he slowly embraced him.

Ying Xiu craned his neck, pressing as close to Xie Zhou’s ear as possible, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his voice from trembling. He whispered, “Xie Zhou, does it hurt?”

Even without medical knowledge, he could tell that Xie Zhou’s physical state was very wrong, as if… he was having a seizure.

It must hurt a lot; his face was as white as ice, and it made him scared just to look at him.

Xie Zhou lowered his gaze, his eyes catching a glimpse of a slender white neck in his vision. It was delicate and fragile, with a flush of fresh life and the faint hint of a flowing blue vein underneath. The lines were pure and exquisite, as if they could snap with a single touch.

With a strange curiosity, he gently pressed on the neck of the youth in his arms. His rough thumb rested on the beating pulse, feeling its warmth and a constant, restless tremor against his palm.

Ying Xiu felt his action and couldn’t help but feel a little confused.

Why was he touching his neck? Was he going to kiss him?

—Didn’t they just kiss this morning?

Ying Xiu leaned in to close the distance, tentatively lifting his head. Finding the other man too tall, he simply sat directly on the white-robed retainer’s lap and tilted his chin up, pecking Xie Zhou’s brow and eye with a reverent gesture.

He landed precisely on the spot just below his eyelid. Ying Xiu could even see the beautiful shape of Xie Zhou’s eyes with incredible clarity. The outer corners of his eyes curved slightly upward, and when he looked down at people, there was a nearly sorrowful coldness.

Those black pupils reflected his face, devoid of emotion. To be precise, Xie Zhou seemed to be caught in an emotion Ying Xiu had never encountered before. His gaze was very distant, a condescending scrutiny, and a hint of killing intent even flickered in his eyes.

The youth’s heart skipped a beat for a moment. He frowned, full of sympathy. When he was injured, he also didn’t like to talk to people. Xie Zhou must be in a lot of pain.

He lowered his head, his hands searching Xie Zhou’s body, moving up along his waist. “Let me see where it hurts. I’ll help you—”

Before he could finish, his hands were suddenly seized. Xie Zhou seemed to finally wake up, or perhaps he had fallen into an even deeper emotional state. His calm, deep eyes observed him, staring at his neck before he leaned down.

Ying Xiu’s head rested on Xie Zhou’s shoulder, his hands held tight and unable to move. He watched the flickering black curtain on the carriage window. A flash of white light passed through a gap, and snowflakes drifted in, a chill hitting his face. His eyes suddenly widened.

Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!

He wanted to curse. How could he just bite someone?

Could it be that Xie Zhou had found out about him secretly pecking him at night and was getting his revenge?

But he only pecked Xie Zhou’s face, while Xie Zhou bit his neck hard. Was that a little unfair?

After thinking it over, Ying Xiu still felt a little guilty. After all, he was the one who had pecked him first.

His face slowly turned red with embarrassment. His round, clear eyes darted around, trying to get a glimpse of Xie Zhou’s expression.

This position forced him to face the carriage wall, and he couldn’t see anything but the window and the curtain. Ying Xiu frowned in pain. Xie Zhou must be retaliating against him!

Sharp teeth sank into the tender flesh of his white neck, clamping down on the throbbing pulse, grinding gently, inch by inch.

Ying Xiu couldn’t help but tremble slightly, finally resting completely on Xie Zhou’s shoulder, panting softly.

He gave up struggling, thinking self-destructively that from now on he and Xie Zhou could just bite each other, a bite for a bite. That seemed fair enough.

After a while, the other man finally let go. Ying Xiu’s golden collar was wrinkled and crumpled.

He looked up, glaring at Xie Zhou with a mix of anger and guilt, then quickly lowered his eyes, raising a hand to straighten his clothes.

On his slender, smooth white neck, a clear bite mark remained, pulsing faintly with his heartbeat, a symmetrical shadow.

It was like a brand, deeply imprinted on the assassin’s body.

Xie Zhou finally calmed down, moved the youth back to his original position, and put some distance between them. He asked Ying Xiu, “Why aren’t you afraid?”

In the past, whenever he showed a sign of a seizure, all the palace attendants would instinctively retreat, not daring to come close.

As an assassin, Ying Xiu was even more sensitive to danger, yet he had approached.

Why?

Ying Xiu felt a little guilty, his gaze wandering. He cautiously asked, “Do you know about what happened at night?”

If so, could he now openly peck Xie Zhou? Could he peck anywhere he wanted?

Xie Zhou paused, impressed by his rambling thoughts. The bone-deep pain and cold seemed to lessen. “The matter of you secretly kissing me at night?”

It was clear that he could kiss him openly during the day, but Ying Xiu seemed to be afraid to look him in the eye. He would always kiss him and then run away during the day, and then come to secretly ambush him at night.

Ying Xiu nodded, his face flushed. His clear, sharp demeanor was mixed with a touch of youthful innocence, like any boy facing the person he liked, feeling guilty and shy after his secret was discovered.

For some reason, he had always been a little afraid of Xie Zhou—a sense of fear and awe, which was faint and often consciously ignored, but it had never disappeared.

That’s why he didn’t dare to look into his beautiful, cold eyes or to kiss him in his calm gaze.

It made him feel like a cicada that had been stripped open, revealing its organs for all to see. All his secret thoughts were transparent.

This was the first time the assassin had ever fallen for someone, so much so that he himself didn’t even realize it was love.

Because he loved him, he was shy, fearful, and afraid.

Xie Zhou quietly took in all of Ying Xiu’s subtle expressions. He lowered his long lashes, a dark light seeming to flicker within.

The young emperor had experienced the fear, admiration, hatred, and killing intent of many people. This was the first time he had experienced a youth’s love, fragile and beautiful as glass.

“You don’t have to be sneaky about it,” Xie Zhou finally said. “I’ll close my eyes.”

After speaking, the pale-faced retainer closed his eyes. His eyelids were a thin line, gently closed with a slight upward curve, casting two shadows under his long lashes on his bloodless, pale skin, a beauty that was delicate to the extreme.

The assassin was stunned for a moment, his ears turning red. He hesitated before leaning in, kneeling reverently on his knees, and gently pecking the retainer’s delicate eyelids.

His movements were very light, as if he were afraid of startling something. He kissed him twice, then pulled away.

“Xie Zhou,” Ying Xiu said, telling Xie Zhou to open his eyes and looking straight into his unfathomable gaze. He gave him a big hug and whispered, “I like you.”

His tone was honest and direct, without any hesitation. The love in his eyes was almost overflowing, overwhelming Xie Zhou.

The person being hugged by the youth didn’t respond for a long time. After a moment, a calm, gentle voice came from above his head. “Mm, I know.”

He had known it from the very first day they met.

Ying Xiu was about to ask Xie Zhou if he liked him, but the carriage suddenly stopped. The coachman’s careful and respectful voice came from outside. “My lord, we’ve arrived.”

Sudden interrupted, Ying Xiu forgot to ask the question. He quickly lifted the carriage curtain and said, “Hurry and get a doctor. Your lord isn’t feeling well.”

“No need,” a cold hand beside him pressed down on his arm. Xie Zhou said calmly, “No need to get a doctor.”

The coachman naturally listened to Xie Zhou.

Ying Xiu glared at Xie Zhou in frustration. The latter was wearing a pristine white robe, and his face was now utterly bloodless. His already elegant and beautiful features were even more striking, possessing a soul-capturing coldness.

He was like a beautiful statue cast from ice and glass, pale and exquisite.

How could Ying Xiu not be worried? He took Xie Zhou’s large hand, their fingers tightly intertwined, and refused to let go until they were back in the quiet room where they were staying.

The first snow had fallen in Jing Province. The vast, swirling snow blanketed the world in a hazy white. The candlelight in the room was also dim and indistinct, casting a solemn shadow.

In contrast to Ying Xiu’s anxiety, Xie Zhou, the patient, was calm and indifferent. He listened to Ying Xiu, sitting quietly on the bed by the window, leaning against a cushion. The closed casement window was behind him.

The window framed the vast, white sky, and the moonlight shone through, illuminating his body in a clear, ethereal light.

The white-robed retainer sat still, watching the golden-robed youth scurrying around, busy with many things.

He had someone light the underfloor heating, closed all the doors and windows, and the flickering light from the lantern on the stand cast bright and dim shadows among the furnishings.

Ying Xiu finally sat down. He didn’t ask Xie Zhou why he insisted on not seeing a doctor, nor did he ask about the origin of his illness. He just used his own warm hands to hold Xie Zhou’s cold ones.

“Does it still hurt?” the youth asked, his face full of concern, as he tilted his head to observe his expression.

Xie Zhou lowered his eyes and gave him a gentle look. He raised his hand casually and covered his mouth, coughing softly.

Ying Xiu’s heart ached. It was all because the winter in Jiangdong was too cold and had frozen his Xie Zhou.

He pulled and dragged him into the bed curtains, wrapping him in three layers of quilts. Still not satisfied, he asked for a few more quilts to be sent.

Xie Zhou, buried under a mountain of quilts: “…”

The attendant who was sent to deliver the quilts secretly clicked his tongue. They must be playing a big game to use so many quilts.

But why didn’t the emperor ask for water?

Ying Xiu extinguished the lamp and climbed into bed with great difficulty. Lying next to him was Xie Zhou, wrapped into a round ball, and a mountain of quilts.

He lay still for a while, then suddenly went over the piles of blankets and fumbled in the dark to get into Xie Zhou’s arms. “Xie Zhou, are you still cold?”

Xie Zhou: “…I’m not cold anymore.”

Upon hearing this, Ying Xiu kissed him and then went back the way he came.

Xie Zhou closed his eyes, and finally couldn’t help but reach out and grab Ying Xiu, holding him tightly in his arms.

Ying Xiu was a little uncomfortable at first, but he slowly curled up in Xie Zhou’s arms and rested his head on his chest, gradually falling asleep.

Xie Zhou’s eyes were open. He listened to the youth’s steady breathing in his arms, unable to sleep all night.

…

The efficiency of the Mirror Guard was very high, and they quickly found clues about Ying Xiu’s background.

Ying Xiu’s adoptive father was indeed a Qiang tribesman, and he was also involved in a major case.

In the early years of the Jian Yuan era, Emperor Yuanxi also had the ambition to launch a northern expedition to restore the central plains. Troubled by the obstruction of the aristocratic families, he went to great lengths to find a worthy official. That official was entrusted with high hopes to lead the army in the northern expedition, and he once crossed the Yangtze River and recovered a vast amount of lost territory.

Later, the official betrayed his master and colluded with the Qiang people.

According to the information in the dossier, the general who colluded with the Qiang people was colluding with Ying Xiu’s adoptive father.

Ying Xiu was clearly not of Qiang bl00d, so whose bl00d was he?

The answer was on the verge of being revealed.

Ying Xiu’s eyes opened in a daze. He reached out and felt the bed, but his hand came up empty. The person who had held him in his arms all night had already left.

Xie Zhou always woke up early, so this was nothing unusual. But for some reason, Ying Xiu’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, as if something was changing in a way he couldn’t see.

He got out of bed, momentarily forgetting to put on his shoes, and walked barefoot towards the outside.

It had snowed last night, but the area outside the quiet room had been swept clean, not a single trace was left. Only the biting cold air still lingered.

The Imperial Guards, disguised as attendants and lurking in the shadows of the residence, saw the youth with his long, dark hair and bare feet walking out of the quiet room early in the morning. They exchanged a knowing glance from a distance.

Was he in a hurry to see their emperor?

Worried about Xie Zhou’s health, Ying Xiu hurried through the long corridor. Outside the corridor, the air was bleak. The white mist enveloped the flying eaves and arched roofs, and from a distance, it looked misty and rainy as the snow fell again.

He went straight to the East Pavilion. The attendant guarding the door gave him a glance and discreetly stepped aside.

Ying Xiu pushed open the huge folding door of the building. The bright morning light followed him, bringing him into the sight of everyone in the pavilion.

The youth’s arrival was truly unexpected. He wore a golden robe with a white hem, his long hair falling to his waist, and his feet were bare. He held the door open with one hand, like a visitor from another world, standing against the dawn.

Xie Zhou sat in the main seat. On either side, several strange attendants with noble and dignified looks sat far away on their knees. The first glance they gave him was complicated, but then it returned to a state of calm.

That momentary scrutiny, that appraisal, seemed to be just his imagination.

Ying Xiu was a little at a loss. Xie Zhou seemed fine, and they were apparently discussing political matters. As an assassin of the Wang family of Langya, it was inappropriate for him to eavesdrop on the political affairs of the Xie family of Jianchang.

He turned to leave, but a calm, gentle voice suddenly came from behind him. “Come here and sit next to me.”

Ying Xiu had no choice but to walk back and sit obediently beside Xie Zhou. Seeing this, the attendants’ expressions changed again. This time, Ying Xiu was sure it wasn’t his imagination.

Xie Zhou seemed to be completely unconcerned about them. In front of everyone, his gaze fell on Ying Xiu’s bare ankles. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

“It’s snowing outside again, and I was worried about you…”

Ying Xiu explained in a low voice. He wasn’t used to saying these things in front of outsiders. It felt a little strange, especially since these people should be Xie Zhou’s colleagues and subordinates. What would they think if they saw him like this?

Xie Zhou glanced at the young boy standing beside him. The boy quickly walked out and came back a moment later with a jade tray, on which lay a pair of embroidered gold slippers.

Ying Xiu was a little flustered, but Xie Zhou leaned down, took his foot in his large hand, and personally put on the shoes for him.

The youth lowered his head, wishing he could find a hole to crawl into. His face was burning hot. He didn’t even have to look to know that it must be completely red.

The pupils of all the attendants present contracted slightly, and they could barely suppress their shock. They lowered their heads, not daring to look again.

They had all heard that the emperor had a new male favorite whom he doted on. Now they had finally seen it for themselves.

They were secretly excited, thinking that finally, someone could keep the tyrant in check!

They had to treat this young man well. If one day it was their turn to have their family confiscated and executed, at least someone could put in a good word for them in front of the emperor and whisper into his ear.

Ying Xiu lowered his head, unable to see their expressions. Based on his assassin’s intuition, he felt that the atmosphere inside the East Pavilion seemed to have subtly changed.

He was so embarrassed that he wanted to shrink into Xie Zhou’s arms, shrinking into a tiny dot so that no one but Xie Zhou could find him.

The attendants discreetly got up and left. Xie Zhou had no intention of keeping them. Once they were all gone, Ying Xiu finally raised his head and scathingly asked Xie Zhou, “What were you doing just now?”

“We are partners,” Xie Zhou said slowly. “It’s my duty to put on your shoes.”

Ying Xiu was speechless. He asked curiously, “Who were those people just now?”

A smile appeared on Xie Zhou’s lips. “It’s not important. They will remember you on their own.”

Only the Imperial Guard commander, who stood beside them, knew that these people were the core confidants of the royal family, spread throughout the nine provinces of Jiangdong. They were generals and prime ministers, often hidden behind the scenes, with tens of thousands of people at their beck and call.

Now, they would be at Ying Xiu’s beck and call, to keep him under their protection forever and ensure he would never come into contact with the case of the Shouchun Estate Master.

There are so many attendants from aristocratic families, and they are all so dignified and elegant, Ying Xiu thought to himself. They looked a bit like his former assassination targets, who held high positions.

With the snow falling in Jing Province, Ying Xiu couldn’t go out and play with Xie Zhou anymore. He was also worried about the eldest young master and wanted to return home. However, Xie Zhou said they needed to continue south along the Grand Canal, citing a command from his master.

He had business to attend to, so Ying Xiu no longer brought up the matter of returning to Jiang Province.

On the day they left Jing Province, they happened to see a group of prisoners in shackles from a distance. Ying Xiu didn’t pay much attention at first, but then he suddenly heard a prisoner’s voice that was very familiar. “My Yang family has ruled Jing Province for over sixty-one years, and now we’ve fallen. The victor is king, and the loser is a commoner…”

Ying Xiu listened carefully and realized that the person was probably the son of the governor who had argued with them on the official road. He instinctively frowned, sensing something unusual. Since Xie Zhou wasn’t by his side, he decided to stop the carriage, lift the curtain, and ask a passing villager.

The villager looked incredulous, unable to believe that someone didn’t know about the downfall of the Jing Province governor.

“A few days ago, the governor’s entire family was arrested by the authorities, their assets confiscated, and they were sent into exile. Even the corrupt officials and cronies he had cultivated were uprooted. It’s truly a cause for celebration!”

“The Yang family has been rooted in Jing Province for decades. The governors and provincial governors were all from the Yang family, or their in-laws. Now they’ve finally fallen…”

Ying Xiu thanked him and returned to the carriage, feeling that something was strange. Last time, it was the powerful families of Jiang Province who were uprooted. This time, it was the governor of Jing Province who was arrested and had his assets confiscated. He felt as if wherever he and Xie Zhou went, something would happen to the aristocratic families there.

There was one common denominator: those who offended him and Xie Zhou would be in trouble.

The carriage continued south. The wails and cries of the governor’s family could be heard endlessly behind them. Ying Xiu lifted the carriage curtain and looked back from a distance, only to see a scene of brokenness and mourning, the glint of cold iron, not precious furs and jewels, but shackles on their bodies.

He didn’t look any longer. He put down the curtain. The prosperity of a great aristocratic family for over sixty years had come to an abrupt end.

When the aristocratic families fell, it was a new day for the common people.

Ying Xiu was on the Grand Canal, and the great ship beneath his feet sailed south without a moment’s rest. The owl that had been sent to Guangling to deliver a letter had been flying for a long time and finally returned.

He took down the message strip and saw that the eldest young master had written that everything was safe in Guangling, and the emperor had no intention of purging the Wang family of Langya.

However, Ying Xiu felt a sense of unease. He had seen the tyrant’s methods along the way—swift and decisive. There was no warning before he confiscated a family’s assets and executed them.

He suppressed his unease and wanted to shed his identity as an assassin as soon as possible.

At the very least, he shouldn’t be registered as a member of the Wang family of Langya anymore. Ying Xiu thought about it and decided to be frank. Just as he was about to attach the message strip to the owl, moonlight suddenly streamed in as the folding door of the building silently opened.

The owl was startled. It turned its fluffy head to see who had entered, then slowly turned back.

In the center of the folding door, the tall and slender shadow of the newcomer was cast in the moonlight. The dark figure seemed to be standing on a layer of thin frost, cold and dangerous.

Ying Xiu pushed the owl behind him and then pushed it out of the ship’s window. The owl flew away with a whoosh, leaving the huge quiet room with only him and Xie Zhou at the door.

Xie Zhou seemed not to have noticed his little action. He stepped in. “The ship will stop at Ning Province. Counting the days, it will be the seventh day after Xi An’s death.”

He asked casually, “Do you want to go see him?”

He remembered that Ying Xiu had called out Xi An’s name in a daze that night.

Ying Xiu was stunned for a moment. He thought for a while before finally remembering who Xi An was—the young master of the Xi family of Gaoping who had given him the aphrodisiac. “Why would I want to see him?”

Xie Zhou’s deep eyes stared at him, watching for a long time, as if realizing that Ying Xiu truly didn’t care about Xi An. He didn’t bring up the topic again.

Ying Xiu saw that he was still standing at the door and quickly went up to pull him inside, complaining, “What are you standing around for? Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?”

He brought a blanket, stood on his tiptoes, and found that he still wasn’t tall enough. He glared at Xie Zhou. Xie Zhou leaned down, allowing him to drape the blanket over his shoulders.

Ying Xiu sat down next to him, pressing tightly against the white-robed young man through the thick blanket, afraid he would catch a cold.

Xie Zhou: “…”

He opened the blanket and wrapped Ying Xiu inside.

Both of them were wrapped in the blanket, looking foolishly wrapped up with their heads covered, secretive and suspicious.

Ying Xiu’s body was naturally warm, and being wrapped in the blanket made him even warmer. He held Xie Zhou’s arm, wanting to get some of his coolness.

Xie Zhou let him hold him, his thoughts drifting in a rare moment.

Every winter when it snowed, the internal poison he had from his youth would act up, causing him excruciating pain. With Ying Xiu by his side, the devouring pain seemed to have lessened a lot.

“Xie Zhou,” Ying Xiu called out softly.

Thinking about what he was about to say, the youth couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. His face was flushed, whether from the stuffiness or from embarrassment. His dark, soft hair fell, draping over his body, making his face look even fairer and his eyes clearer and brighter.

Xie Zhou lowered his eyes, quietly waiting for the youth’s next words.

“Um…” Ying Xiu asked tentatively, “Do you feel like wherever we go, an aristocratic family there dies not long after?”