Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 43
Chapter 43
The room was a dim yellow, and candlelight fell on the retainer, casting a stark division between light and shadow. His dark hair shimmered faintly, while most of his beautiful face was hidden in darkness.
A moment later, Xie Zhou finally spoke. “What were you doing?”
Ying Xiu was stunned by the question. He was right. In Xie Zhou’s eyes, he was just a scholar, raised in Jiang Province. It was an unfamiliar place for him, so he should have nothing to do.
He chose his words carefully. “I went out to see the local sights in Ning Province, write letters and articles for people, and earn some money…”
It was a complete lie.
Xie Zhou looked down at Ying Xiu from a great height. Despite the short distance, Ying Xiu had the illusion that they were worlds apart. Under that scrutinizing gaze, his voice grew softer and softer until he fell silent.
A terrifying stillness settled in the room.
The young assassin was good at killing, but not so good at reading people’s hearts. He vaguely sensed that Xie Zhou was unhappy. Was it because he came back late again?
He felt a little nervous. He looked up and saw the other man’s calm, cold features. He suddenly realized that Xie Zhou didn’t believe a word he said.
Of course. In the Southern Dynasty, it was impossible for a scholar without a family to earn thirty guan in a day.
But he couldn’t just tell him he was an assassin, could he?
That would surely scare Xie Zhou.
Ying Xiu’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he didn’t know what to say. Steeling his heart, he tiptoed and carefully tilted his head up to kiss Xie Zhou.
Because of their height difference, he could only barely reach Xie Zhou’s chin, just grazing his thin lips. Xie Zhou didn’t move, allowing him to stand on his toes and kiss him.
Ying Xiu kissed him once and, getting no response, pretended to be disappointed and lowered his head.
The next moment, a large hand clamped the back of his neck, two fingers cupping his jawbones and tilting his face upward.
The cold, rough thumb pressing against his cheek made his jowls bulge, his fair skin overflowing from between the man’s fingers.
Ying Xiu was forced to look up, his toes barely touching the ground. He stared with bright, black eyes as the retainer leaned down and kissed him in that position.
A broken sound escaped his throat. His mind felt like mush, and he was dizzy. Ying Xiu didn’t know what he wanted to say and could only tremble weakly under the man’s hand.
The remaining hint of red on Ying Xiu’s lips was slowly consumed, revealing their true color, a reddish-pale hue.
After an unknown amount of time, he was finally let go. He stood in place, trembling softly, his legs feeling a little weak. Not to mention his injured shoulder, which throbbed with a fine, dense pain.
“Come here. I’ll put some ointment on it for you,” Xie Zhou commanded in a low voice, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Ying Xiu cautiously looked up at Xie Zhou, then quickly lowered his eyes, muttering under his breath that Xie Zhou must be a dog, because he loved to bite people.
He bit him when he had a seizure, he bit him when he came home late, and he bit him when he was happy and unhappy.
But he was so handsome that it was okay to let him bite.
Ying Xiu shuffled over and sat down beside Xie Zhou obediently, turning his injured shoulder towards him.
“Do you need me to help you take it off?”
A gentle, low voice suddenly sounded from above. Ying Xiu was jolted awake. He fumbled to unbuckle his belt and pulled his outer robe down a little, revealing the wound on his shoulder.
He couldn’t see the wound, and he couldn’t see how cold Xie Zhou’s gaze was as he stared at it.
It was a small cut, sunken into his fair skin, a jarringly bright red that had split slightly. It was from where he had been pressed earlier.
A cold, delicate paste was applied to the wound. Ying Xiu couldn’t help but jolt and hiss softly. Afraid that Xie Zhou would ask how he got the wound, he held back the sound.
“Ying Xiu,” Xie Zhou suddenly said his name, his voice unreadable. “You can let it out if it hurts.”
Ying Xiu bit down on his teeth and said nonchalantly, “It’s nothing. Didn’t I tell you that I used to fall down a lot when I was a kid? This is nothing…”
The other man didn’t respond, but the pressure in his hand suddenly increased. It hurt so much that tears welled up in Ying Xiu’s eyes. He secretly began to plot his revenge, deciding that when they went to bed, he would kick Xie Zhou off the bed.
Fortunately, Xie Zhou soon lightened his touch, becoming gentle and careful. The ointment was also miraculous; the pain in the wound gradually subsided.
Ying Xiu decided to be magnanimous and forgive Xie Zhou. He turned around, and under Xie Zhou’s calm, placid gaze, he retaliated by biting his lips, over and over, leaving two sharp teeth marks.
He was satisfied to see that the cold and indifferent retainer, who kept people at arm’s length, now bore a mark he had left. His eyes curved, filled with a triumphant smile.
Xie Zhou didn’t know what to do with him. The assassin was clearly afraid of pain, yet he was willing to do dangerous things for money.
What was even more ridiculous was that he said he wanted to pay him with money.
The emperor was born with countless treasures, and no one had ever told him, “I want to earn money to take care of you.”
He didn’t need or care about these meaningless gestures.
Ying Xiu was completely unaware of the other man’s thoughts. He lay on his side on the bed, happily thinking about how he would spend the thirty guan.
He had to pay for Xie Zhou’s room, buy him some extra gifts, get some feed for Little Red and Little White in Jing Province, and for the fawn in Jiang Province. All the remaining money would go to Xie Zhou.
He was so good at being a frugal housekeeper!
Perhaps because he was too excited, Ying Xiu woke up very early. He rolled over in the quilt, opened his eyes, and, with bare feet, slipped out of the bed curtains. He quickly changed his clothes, ran to the East Pavilion, found Xie Zhou, and pulled him to go outside.
Ever since they had seen the emperor personally put on shoes for his favorite, the officials were no longer surprised by anything. They politely got up and left.
Xie Zhou didn’t resist. He whispered something to an attendant and let Ying Xiu pull his hand as they walked outside.
The Cold Garment Festival was approaching, and the Ning Province market was very lively. The streets were full of shops selling cotton clothes, and many vendors were selling hot boluogong and candied hawthorns, among other snacks.
Ying Xiu held Xie Zhou’s hand and walked excitedly along the bustling street.
One tall, one short, they were both well-built and exceptionally handsome, attracting the attention of many passersby.
Ying Xiu was completely absorbed in Xie Zhou and didn’t care about the attention. He bought two skewers of candied hawthorns, handed one to Xie Zhou, and put the other in his mouth, not forgetting to say to Xie Zhou:
“Try it. It’s sweet and delicious.”
The attendants following behind wanted to step forward to test for poison, but Xie Zhou silently stopped them and took the candied hawthorns from Ying Xiu.
The attendants suppressed the shock in their eyes. Ever since the emperor had been poisoned in the past, they had been extremely cautious about what he ate. The emperor actually took something from a street vendor and given to him by an assassin without any hesitation.
Ying Xiu noticed that the attendant was staring at him. He generously bought all the candied hawthorns and handed them to the attendant. “You can take these back and share them with the people in the residence. One skewer for each person.”
The attendant was stunned. He looked up and saw his emperor giving him a cold look. He instinctively hugged the candied hawthorns tightly and stammered, “Thank you, young master!”
What if there was poison in this? They should test it for the emperor!
The attendant ate the candied hawthorns with gusto.
The fragrance of poetic wafted from all directions. Ying Xiu had never tasted this kind of food before and was a little curious. He pulled Xie Zhou over.
A red broth was simmering in an iron pot, filled with all sorts of small dishes. Ying Xiu bought a whole pot and sat with Xie Zhou under a thatched stall.
The youth carefully rolled up his sleeves and, mimicking the vendor, seriously cooked a pot. He picked up a piece of green vegetable, took a bite, and his expression changed slightly. His delicate, fair face instantly flushed red. “It’s so spicy!”
Xie Zhou had never tasted this kind of folk food before. Since it was cooked by Ying Xiu himself, he tried a small dish and swallowed it without changing his expression. “It’s acceptable.”
Ying Xiu’s cheeks were red. He fanned himself while looking at Xie Zhou suspiciously. “Really?”
Xie Zhou’s expression was calm. He nodded slightly and picked up another dish in front of Ying Xiu. Ying Xiu saw the slight redness on his ears and quickly stopped him.
“Don’t eat anymore. Let’s go look at something else.”
After paying the vendor, Ying Xiu fled, pulling Xie Zhou along. The youth’s lips were a little red and swollen from the spiciness, looking a bit comical.
On the night of the Cold Garment Festival, fireworks would be set off, and people would write wishes on lanterns and release them.
Ying Xiu hopped over to a woman selling lanterns and bought lanterns for himself and Xie Zhou, not forgetting to buy some for the attendants who were with them.
The white-robed retainer stood in place, waiting. The street was crowded with people and lanterns. He saw the golden-robed youth happily holding several lanterns, weaving through the crowd, and walking straight towards him.
Ying Xiu came to Xie Zhou and handed him a glass snow lantern. The lantern was exquisite and beautiful, with ice-crackle-like glass on all sides. The shimmering light of the lantern shone on the retainer’s white robe, giving him a pristine, cold beauty.
If there were immortals in this world, they must look like Xie Zhou.
Ying Xiu was a little lost in his thoughts, his eyes bright, reflecting Xie Zhou’s figure.
Small children were running around excitedly on the long street. Xie Zhou took the dazed Ying Xiu’s hand and pulled him into his arms.
From the corner of his eye, he unintentionally saw that the lantern in Ying Xiu’s hand had a bamboo frame and a silk surface. The silk surface was painted with two figures, one white and one gold, leaning against each other.
It was him and Ying Xiu.
Xie Zhou was momentarily stunned. Ying Xiu took out a note given to him by the lantern seller and said seriously, “The seller said that if you write your wish on the note and release the lantern, the wish will come true.”
He had read many storybooks in the Pavilion of the Sea Chest. The books said that many devoted lovers would release lanterns, which made him a little tired of it.
But when it was his turn to release one with Xie Zhou, he realized that it was different. He tried hard to think about what was different.
…It was probably because the person by his side was Xie Zhou.
Not far away, the attendant who was writing his wish on a lantern suddenly stiffened. Everyone knew that the emperor hated talk of spirits and deities. The young master’s words might cause the emperor to be displeased.
He was hesitating whether to warn Ying Xiu when he heard the emperor say to the assassin in the bustling crowd, “Mm, we’ll release a lantern together.”
Ying Xiu quietly wrote his wish, covering it with his hand so that Xie Zhou couldn’t peek. After he finished, he tilted his head to see what Xie Zhou was writing.
“Xie Zhou, what is your wish?”