Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Shadows and lamplight intersected, figures blurred, and light shone brilliantly. Xie Zhou lowered his gaze and saw his own reflection in Ying Xiu’s clear eyes.

He paused for a moment, placed the note inside the snow lantern, and said, “I didn’t write anything.”

He wasn’t lying to Ying Xiu. He truly hadn’t written a single thing.

Ying Xiu felt a little disappointed, but then a thought changed his mind: Xie Zhou was probably just shy. He didn’t press the matter and simply pulled Xie Zhou up the watchtower.

There were many people releasing lanterns from here. He found a quiet corner and carefully tied his red note beneath the silk lantern.

When the wind blew, the red note swayed back and forth, and the little bell at the bottom turned, making a tinkling sound.

Xie Zhou glanced at the silk lantern, and just as a gust of wind blew past, the note flipped over. He was about to take a closer look, but another gust of wind made the note turn back.

Ying Xiu excitedly pulled him, wanting to release the lantern with him, so Xie Zhou had to look away.

They released their lanterns at the same time. The moment Ying Xiu let go of the bamboo frame, his silk lantern floated up into the sky. The snow lantern in Xie Zhou’s hand also rose gradually. The two lanterns slowly disappeared into the myriad lights in the sky.

Ying Xiu looked up, staring blankly at the two drifting lanterns. He wondered what Xie Zhou had written on his. He was completely unaware that the person beside him had lowered his head and was looking at him with utter concentration.

It wasn’t until he could no longer see the two lanterns that Ying Xiu brought his gaze back down. He turned his head and, without warning, met a pair of deep, dark eyes. Xie Zhou was looking at him, and he didn’t know how long he had been doing so.

His cheeks instantly flushed. He was probably blushing in front of Xie Zhou again. He stammered, “What are you looking at me for?”

Xie Zhou didn’t deny he was looking at him. His tone was calm, completely lacking the embarrassment of being caught. He was brief and to the point: “I wanted to.”

He wanted to, so he did.

He was so unapologetic that Ying Xiu didn’t know what to do with him. His cheeks and even his earlobes felt hot. After a long moment of deliberation, he could only say, “Then keep looking.”

The youth’s face was flushed, with black hair and white skin, dressed in golden robes. His aura was sharp and brilliant. In the midst of the surrounding lamplight, he was unspeakably beautiful and graceful.

He was like a flash of light on a sword’s edge—bright and clear.

Xie Zhou stopped teasing him and said in a low voice, “Ying Xiu, I…”

With a loud bang, a multicolored firework suddenly exploded in the sky, dazzling and brilliant. Ying Xiu’s attention was drawn to the fireworks, and he didn’t hear what Xie Zhou said.

When the fireworks faded, he finally turned to Xie Zhou and asked curiously, “What did you just say?”

Xie Zhou was silent for a moment. “Nothing.”

The more he refused to say, the more Ying Xiu’s heart itched. He tugged on his snow-white robe and pleaded, “Just tell me! I really want to know.”

However, Xie Zhou just rubbed his head, soothing him like a child. “You’ll know later.”

Ying Xiu had a feeling that what he had just said was extremely important. He widened his eyes, trying to catch a hint of a clue on the retainer’s face, but that cold, handsome face was as calm as ever, showing no cracks.

The youth felt a little discouraged. He tiptoed and gave Xie Zhou a fierce kiss, kissing the white-robed retainer’s lips until they were swollen.

He wasn’t in much better shape himself; his mouth felt numb from the other’s kisses. The other man had even pried open his jaw for a deeper, more invasive kiss.

Ying Xiu wrapped his arms around Xie Zhou’s neck and buried his head behind his shoulder, not daring to show his face. He had wanted to walk on his own, but his legs were so weak that he almost fell while going down the stairs, and he had no choice but to let Xie Zhou carry him.

It was so embarrassing to admit. A dignified assassin who could kill a person in three steps, his stamina was actually worse than a retainer who only sat behind a curtain.

Was that even logical?

Ying Xiu thought about it seriously. He looked up, revealing his messy ponytail, and leaned close to Xie Zhou’s ear. He asked conspiratorially, “Xie Zhou, what did you eat when you were little that made you grow so tall?”

The retainer’s footsteps paused. His ear felt warm, as if someone were blowing warm air into it. This boy was getting more and more lawless.

“Elixirs,” Xie Zhou said.

His voice was much softer than usual, so much so that Ying Xiu wondered if he had heard him wrong.

The current emperor despised talk of spirits and deities. He had once killed monks and eradicated Buddhism, and in the end, even the aristocratic families who were addicted to wushi san did not dare to openly use it. This was how the current peaceful era came to be.

Those who took elixirs were even rarer, let alone someone who had taken them since childhood. Ying Xiu repeated in confusion, “Elixirs?”

This time, Xie Zhou didn’t answer him. He simply carried him back to the carriage.

Ying Xiu was always big-hearted and never dwelled on things. If someone didn’t want to talk about something, he wouldn’t ask again, no matter how many doubts he had.

Sitting in the carriage, with his head on Xie Zhou’s shoulder, Ying Xiu idly twirled the strands of Xie Zhou’s hair. It was cold and soft and didn’t tangle.

He simply braided a small strand of hair into a plait, still thinking about the elixir Xie Zhou had mentioned.

What was the retainer’s background? And where were his family and friends?

He remembered the words Xie Zhou had said to him the first night they met:

“Xie Zhou, a native of Jiankang.”

Jiankang, the capital of the Southern Dynasty, an ancient capital of six dynasties. It had witnessed the rise and fall of countless eras and was home to boundless elegance.

Ying Xiu had never been there. He didn’t know what the ancient capital was like, and he didn’t know how Xie Zhou had grown up there.

He changed his position, leaning into Xie Zhou’s arm, and imagined Xie Zhou’s life in Jiankang. The retainer must have come from a humble background, living in a simple courtyard with his parents.

Just like the two years he had spent in Qionghua Terrace in Guangling—free and easy, just like every other ordinary person in the world.

Ying Xiu felt worried. What if Xie Zhou’s family didn’t like him? What would he do?

He didn’t have any impressive skills, except for killing people.

“Xie Zhou,”

The youth in his arms didn’t know what he was thinking. His expression changed several times, as if he had thought of something difficult. He frowned, as if facing a great enemy, and suddenly called out to him.

Xie Zhou replied with a low “Mm,” indicating that he was there with him.

Ying Xiu sat up straight, as if he was about to discuss a serious matter. His face was solemn. “What if your family doesn’t like me?”

Xie Zhou smiled. “That’s a matter for the two of us.”

It was a matter between him and Xie Zhou, so why should they care about others?

Ying Xiu understood the unspoken meaning behind the other’s words. He was still a little worried. The books said that a pair of lovers had to go through many hardships and could be separated at any time. He didn’t want to be separated from Xie Zhou.

If that day ever came, he and Xie Zhou would hide together, in a place the secular world couldn’t find.

Ying Xiu had read too few books. He didn’t know that there was a phrase called “misguided destiny.”

At this moment, Xie Zhou looked at him quietly, taking in all the subtle expressions on his face. He asked, “Do you like Jiankang?”

Soon, that would be the place where you live permanently.

Ying Xiu shook his head. “I’ve never been there, so I don’t know what it’s like.” He leaned closer and hugged Xie Zhou. “Tell me, is Jiankang fun?”

Xie Zhou couldn’t resist his charming plea. Without a change in expression, he pulled the person into his arms, tightening his embrace inch by inch to a distance that Ying Xiu wouldn’t find uncomfortable. He began to speak in a low voice.

“Jiankang has a Qinhuai River that flows all the way out of the city, into the fields. Children love to play on the ridges, running around under the bright sunlight.”

Ying Xiu, who had been quietly snuggled in Xie Zhou’s arms, moved. He looked up and asked curiously, “Did you run on the ridges too?”

Xie Zhou’s body froze for a moment. He nodded gently.

Ying Xiu couldn’t imagine a young Xie Zhou with a calm expression running around the fields. He tried hard to imagine it and couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

The youth’s chest heaved with laughter. The collarbone hidden under his robe rose and fell. He sighed from the bottom of his heart, “Xie Zhou, you’re so cute.”

The white-robed retainer said nothing, only holding the treasure in his arms quietly.

He had lied. The Qinhuai River’s water did not flow into the people’s fields. The palace walls blocked the sunlight, and he had never done such a wild thing.

Every single word was a lie he had fabricated.

The treasure in his arms spoke up and asked him, “Will you take me to walk there when we go? Will you walk the path you walked when you were little?”

After a long time, the retainer’s low voice finally came from above him. “Mm.”

He didn’t say yes, and he didn’t say no. This ambiguous answer would clearly not make Ying Xiu happy. The youth looked up at him, his mouth pouting unhappily.

The assassin seemed naive and not worldly enough, but he was actually very mindful of his actions. He wouldn’t pry into others’ secrets or press for answers to questions they didn’t want to answer.

He also wouldn’t force Xie Zhou to agree to something he didn’t want to.

He wasn’t sad. He would forget about it in a little while.

“If you want to go,” Xie Zhou suddenly said, “I will take you.”

He could build fields and ridges in the Forbidden Palace, divert the Qinhuai River’s water, and break open the palace walls to let the sunlight in.

That way, Ying Xiu wouldn’t say, “Xie Zhou, you’re lying again.”

Xie Zhou, the young emperor, savored the name. Over the past few months, he had become accustomed to living as Xie Zhou.

So much so that he almost forgot his own real name.

It didn’t matter. Ying Xiu would accept his real name. He had ways of making that happen.

The calm, suppressed thoughts were suddenly interrupted. Ying Xiu wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned his head against him, rubbing him affectionately and naturally.

Like a kitten.

Xie Zhou thought to himself.

He carefully avoided the wound on the youth’s shoulder and slowly hugged him tighter.

Ying Xiu seemed to remember something. He struggled to get up again, sitting on Xie Zhou’s lap and facing him. He reached into his sleeve, rummaged around, and pulled out a heavy bag of silver.

“I spent one thirty today. The rest is all for you!”

Without even glancing at the silver, Xie Zhou gazed at the youth’s bright, clear eyes.

How beautiful, he thought. Ying Xiu always said he was handsome, but in reality, he was the most beautiful one.

Xie Zhou didn’t take the money bag for a long time. Ying Xiu didn’t wait any longer. He felt for the hem of Xie Zhou’s robe and quietly slipped it into his sleeve.

He finally got to support Xie Zhou for once.

Hurray!