Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 53

Chapter 53: He Once Kissed These Eyes

Ying Xiu was half-kneeling on the ground, in a pool of bl00d.

He was forced to look up. The fingers gripping his chin were cold, long, and clearly jointed, as clear as icy jade, and carried a biting chill.

His whole body was stiff and motionless. He was a little suspicious that the man’s appearance was a hallucination before death. How could there be such a ridiculous hallucination?

The young assassin blinked slowly, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. The dappled bl00d on his eyelashes dripped into his pupils.

The hall was illuminated by glass lanterns. A dazzling, scarlet light covered everything from all directions, so bright it was blinding.

Through the blurry bl00d mist, Ying Xiu could barely make out the eyes behind the imperial tassels. The eyes were beautifully shaped, pitch black, and utterly quiet and cool.

…He had once kissed these eyes.

At that time, the owner of the eyes had closed them, letting him kiss them gently through the thin layer of his eyelids.

In a daze, the retainer’s warm, gentle voice rang in his ears: “You don’t have to do it in secret. I will close my eyes.”

The voice in his memory gradually overlapped with the voice from above his head. It was the same cool, clear tone, piercing his eardrums with every word.

The emperor, who looked exactly like the retainer, and whose voice was identical, was now holding his chin, looking down at him, forcing him to make a choice:

“One, continue to love this face.”

“Two, die.”

Outside the hall, several bloody figures were being tortured. Their flesh was peeling off, and their desperate screams reached Ying Xiu’s ears.

He couldn’t help but tremble slightly, shrinking back. He lowered his gaze, not daring to look directly at the person in front of him.

The cold fingertips gripping his chin seemed to lose patience. The grip tightened, forcing a hold on his jaw. A slight pain shot through him.

The man’s rough fingertips rubbed heavily, almost sinking into his soft skin. He gently wiped the bl00d from his cheek and reminded him slowly:

“You have half an hour to think.”

Continue to love him.

Or die.

The young assassin clutched a thin hair ribbon in his hand. It was stained with bl00d, but he could still faintly see that it was golden.

He slowly tightened his grip on the ribbon, as if it were the only thing holding him up at this moment.

Ying Xiu’s voice was hoarse. For the first time, he realized that speaking was such a difficult thing.

“…Are you Xie Zhou?”

In his blurry vision, the young, handsome emperor seemed to smile. His fingertips moved upward, wiping the bl00d from the youth’s wet eyelashes.

The two delicate black eyelashes trembled slightly under his hand, covering a pair of clear, moist eyes.

The bright eyes that always held a smile were now soaked with bl00d, stained with a faint reddish hue.

The emperor stared at those pathetic eyes, his own gaze deepening.

The other person’s cold fingertips seemed to be about to touch his eyeball, about to but not quite touching.

Ying Xiu subconsciously closed his eyes. His eyelashes brushed against the man’s palm in a hurried motion.

The emperor didn’t answer his question. He crouched down, half-kneeling, and looked at Ying Xiu, asking him word by word, “Have you made your choice?”

The distance between them suddenly closed. Ying Xiu’s limbs were stiff. His heart felt as if it had been lightly struck by a heavy, sharp object.

He abruptly turned his head and said petulantly, “Then kill me.”

Xie Zhou lied to him and was now threatening him. In that case, he might as well just get it over with.

The fingers gripping his cheek stopped. They slowly massaged his pale skin, cold and with a murderous stillness, a silent scrutiny.

It was as if he was thinking about where to cut him.

Ying Xiu stubbornly kept his head turned, preferring to have his eyes hurt by the candlelight rather than look at the person in front of him.

The next moment, something thin and sharp was pulled out of his palm. It was fine and soft, with a little sticky bl00d on it, and it slipped through his fingers.

—It was that golden hair ribbon.

Ying Xiu suddenly turned his head, wanting to take it back, but his hands were restrained. When he tried to struggle, his vision suddenly went dark. A long piece of fabric was lowered over his face, and he instinctively closed his eyes.

In the reddish darkness, the smell of bl00d hit him.

It was that ribbon. Xie Zhou used that ribbon to tie his eyes shut!

Ying Xiu’s fingertips trembled. His hand held the sword hilt, but before he could do anything…

Crack! A sharp pain shot through his wrist. The bones in his wrist were forcibly dislocated.

Pain.

Only that word was left in Ying Xiu’s mind.

He struggled to free himself and reached out with his other hand to grab the hilt of the sword, but he only touched empty air. The person behind him was silent, as if he was quietly watching his difficult struggle.

Just as he was about to touch the hilt, his ankle suddenly went cold. A large hand grabbed his foot, and he was dragged back forcefully.

“Ying Xiu.”

Ying Xiu couldn’t see. The voice from the darkness was calm but eerie, with a hint of deep, suppressed emotion.

He was a little scared, he didn’t know if it was because of the dark or because of who was there. He struggled, wanting to escape.

The emperor easily captured the defeated assassin. His tone contained a sense of helplessness, and a coldness that held an unspoken cruelty:

“—I’ll choose for you.”

…

Captivity

Darkness, an endless darkness. When he lost his sight, his senses of smell and pain became especially acute.

His wrist throbbed with pain. The dislocated hand and his good hand were wrapped together in a rope that tightened, digging into his skin and binding his pulsing wrist.

All the weight of his body was on the rope. Ying Xiu stretched his toes, but they couldn’t reach the ground.

He was in so much pain that he started to cry. His tears soaked the blindfold, and the overflowing tears flowed down the ribbon.

He understood now. Xie Zhou had hung him up to make it easier to kill him.

Ying Xiu was full of grief. Tears fell one by one. In his heart, he cursed Xie Zhou, calling him a big liar. He was clearly not a retainer, and he knew that Ying Xiu was mistaken, yet he never denied it.

Even the name Xie Zhou was fake. It was all fake!

If he had known he was the emperor, he would never have provoked him.

Ying Xiu was filled with regret. His hands hurt, his eyes hurt, his body hurt, and his heart hurt.

He cried for a while, and then suddenly remembered that his mouth wasn’t covered. He began to curse in a low voice: “You’re a liar and a bad guy. I hope a dog chases you when you go out, and you fall into a pit when you go to the market.”

He thought about how he was going to die, and that he was going to die at the hands of “Xie Zhou.” He felt even more wronged. “When I die, I’m going to become a ghost and ride on your neck, so you can’t hold your head up.”

“You can do that now.”

The tyrant’s voice was warm and cool. It rang out faintly. He had been watching him in the dark for who knows how long.

Ying Xiu suddenly froze, feeling a little guilty for no reason. Did an emperor need to personally execute an assassin?

He remembered the rumors he had heard. The current emperor was ruthless and enjoyed inventing cruel tortures. When he was a youth, he led a northern expedition and slaughtered several Qiang cities. The name “tyrant” was known all over the world.

Cruel tortures, tyrant…

Ying Xiu gave up his struggle and let his toes hang naturally.

Something thin and sharp was pressed against his clothes. The coldness pierced through the fabric, and the sound of tearing cloth followed.

The cold air that rushed at him was so cold that Ying Xiu got goosebumps all over his body.

…

Outside the hall.

The north wind, which had crossed the Qinling Mountains from the Central Plains, carried snowflakes, causing the bl00d on the platform of the Hall of Supreme Harmony to dry, congeal, and form a dappled red.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, burying the bright red on the ground silently.

…

His hearing slowly returned, and his sense of pain followed. The youth opened his eyes, his face pale. His cheeks were a subtle red, like the rising sun in spring.

He couldn’t see his own face. His messy black hair hung down, spreading over his waist. It was tousled, flowing like layers of soft clouds. He sat blankly on the bed.

Xie Zhou didn’t kill him. What did he…

What did he do to him?

Ying Xiu couldn’t understand. He had never encountered such a thing in his life. He racked his brain but couldn’t figure it out.

He never agonized over things he couldn’t understand, and this time was no exception.

The young assassin sat in a daze for a while. He felt a little pain from sitting, so he lay down.

He lay quietly for a moment, thinking he was a little cold. He reached for the wrinkled quilt. The bright yellow quilt was soft and cool. It was embroidered with a complex, beautiful pattern that he couldn’t understand. It felt warm to the touch.

…What is this?

Ying Xiu turned his head to look around. An unbelievable thought came to his mind. Is this the dragon bed?

Is it reasonable for an assassin to be sleeping on the dragon bed?

It wasn’t very reasonable, but since he was already sleeping on it, Ying Xiu turned over and changed his position. He buried his head in the quilt, lay on his stomach, and continued to lie there.

He was exhausted from the torment, his body weary. His mind was blank, and he didn’t want to think about anything. He just lay there quietly.

As for why the emperor didn’t kill him…

Xie Zhou is kind-hearted. Maybe it made the emperor better, too.

“Ying Xiu.”

A figure in white, full of a sense of oppression, stood in front of the bed. He had appeared at some unknown time and had been standing there for an unknown amount of time. He looked down at him like a ghost through the dim curtain.

It was Xie Zhou. To be precise, it was the emperor wearing Xie Zhou’s skin.

The emperor was dressed in a pure white robe, his hair tied with a simple white ribbon. He had a fairy-like beauty and a cool, dignified presence, like a glass immortal statue made of ice and jade.

It was beautiful, a beauty so shocking it hurt to look at.

Ying Xiu climbed up, looked at him, his eyes a little dazed. He blurted out subconsciously, “I love you.”

After he said it, he realized what he had said, and his expression changed slightly.

Last night, the tyrant had forced him over and over, asking if he loved him. He could only say “I love you” again and again. If he said “I don’t,” he would be “bitten”…

The youth’s face was flushed. He curled up in the messy waves of the quilt, like a frightened little animal. After saying that, even he himself looked a little unbelievable.

The emperor stood still, not moving any closer, like a cold stone statue, motionless.

After a moment, he lowered his head, clutched his chest, and swayed as if he were about to fall.

Ying Xiu looked up at him, his eyes widening slightly. A hint of tension appeared on his face. He hugged the quilt in his arms and asked him warily, “Xie… you, what’s wrong?”

…Could it be that his illness is acting up?

The capital had a heavy snow last night, and who knows what his superior did to harm the emperor? Maybe he poisoned him or used a hidden weapon…

Ying Xiu became more and more nervous. He unconsciously let go of the quilt in his arms and cautiously approached the emperor.

Just as he was about to step out of the tall bed, a sudden jingling sound came from his feet. It was as if something invisible had been pulled taut and quickly tightened. A pull grabbed his ankle.

Ying Xiu lowered his head and saw a long, golden chain tied to his slender ankle. It was shimmering and very beautiful.