"You said what?"
Jing Xuan suspected that his mind was too muddled, so he momentarily misheard.
But Fu Chang urgently repeated it once more.
"This old servant said that Young Master Hua Ting was detained by that Liu Chou'er. Originally, Bu San Bu Si wanted to snatch him back, but Liu Chou'er claimed that he had placed a Gu poison on Your Highness. Once midnight arrives, it will fully take effect. If Your Highness does not go personally, you will die on the spot. This concerns Your Highness’s life, so this servant did not dare take any risks and could only rush back to report."
Gu poison?
Upon hearing these words, countless pieces of information and clues surged into Jing Xuan's mind.
According to Fu Chang, Liu Chou'er not only knew his identity but had also been clear from the start. His goal was to poison him.
But why did he need to use Gu poison and insist that it be nurtured with Gu Fang’s blood for recognition? Was the target truly him, or was it Gu Fang?
Moreover, the Gu poison currently afflicting him was clearly not the "one" that Liu Chou'er had mentioned. Then what exactly was it?
And the Gu worms from the Jiang family, what effects did they have and where did they come from?
If they also originated from Liu Chou'er, what was the connection between Liu Chou'er and Minister Jiang Yue? Why was he doing this, and what was his objective?
Liu Chou'er had vaguely mentioned the Qianzhong province mining disaster.
Could it be related?
The flood of questions gave Jing Xuan a headache.
At the time of the mining disaster, he had been too young to understand the details. The ones who handled the matter then should have been Jiang Yue and Gu Fang.
Thus, his instinct was to get up and find Gu Fang.
But Fu Chang hurriedly added, "Your Majesty, Liu Chou'er specifically warned that Your Highness must not inform Prince Xiangding because… because…"
Fu Chang's expression was full of intense struggle and hesitation. "Because Liu Chou'er said that Prince Xiangding has long harbored rebellious intentions. He even has evidence."
As he spoke, Fu Chang handed over an aged secret letter.
The seal on the envelope still bore remnants of a military-exclusive wax seal, and the letter contained only eight words: 'The young lord is weak, proceed gradually.'
The date was exactly around the time of the mining disaster eight years ago.
And the handwriting.
Jing Xuan could not be more familiar with it. It was Gu Fang’s handwriting.
Even if Gu Fang were to turn into ashes, he would never mistake it.
So…
Jing Xuan clenched his fingers abruptly, crushing the letter into a ball.
He was absolutely certain that Liu Chou'er was not deceiving him.
Because at this very moment, he could clearly feel his body growing increasingly uncomfortable as night deepened. His body burning up, accompanied by a strange, piercing pain. At this rate, by midnight, even if he didn’t die immediately, he would be in unbearable agony.
And he was sure Liu Chou'er did not intend to take his life just yet. Otherwise, he could have just poisoned him directly instead of going through the trouble of using Gu poison.
The man must have another demand. One that only Jing Xuan could fulfill.
So whether it was to save himself, uncover the truth behind the mining disaster, or clear Gu Fang’s name, he had no choice but to go tonight.
As for Gu Fang, he better be innocent.
Jing Xuan’s knuckles had turned completely bloodless—pale to the point of transparency—forming a stark contrast to the flushed crimson of his cheeks.
Fu Chang had never seen Jing Xuan like this before and was momentarily startled. "Your Highness…"
"Where is Bu San Bu Si now?"
Fu Chang could only reply hastily, "At the Nanfeng Pavilion, watching over Liu Chou'er and Young Master Hua. Liu Chou'er said he has already poisoned Young Master Hua. If Your Highness does not go, Young Master Hua will die tonight."
Jing Xuan took a deep breath. "And Gu Fang?"
Fu Chang said, "Prince Xiangding seemed to have an urgent matter and left the palace early, but he left guards behind."
What urgent matter could warrant leaving the palace without informing him?
Jing Xuan lifted his head. Sure enough, outside Zichen Hall, he spotted the figures of ten men belonging to the Imperial Guards. If that was the case, there must also be Gu Fang’s men at the palace gates tonight.
Not to mention that Minister Jiang Yue. Tonight, he certainly wouldn’t just let things go so easily.
So sneaking out of the palace unnoticed was anything but simple.
Unless…
At this point, there was no room for hesitation. He could only grit his teeth and say, “Fu Chang, go find the Old Prince immediately! Tell him I have something to ask of him!”
---
The Full Moon Hangs High, the Banquet Disperses
One by one, luxurious carriages carried away the guests whose wallets had been emptied after the grand feast, slowly rolling out of the palace.
The most eye-catching among them was the leading carriage. Twice the size of an ordinary one, adorned with gold, jade, lacquered in deep red, and embellished with extravagant ornaments.
Inside, the laughter of young men mingled with the indulgent chuckles of an older man. Their voices were unrestrained, laced with flirtation and teasing, completely devoid of any reservations.
It was obvious that the red-clad dancers who had been dismissed earlier were now accompanying the Old Prince in revelry.
The young guards on duty only dared to lift the carriage curtains for a fleeting glance. Seeing nothing unusual inside, they hurriedly lowered their eyes, their faces flushing red, and quickly let it pass.
After all, everyone knew aside from his extreme indulgence in pleasure and a reputation for frivolity, the Old Prince wouldn’t commit any serious crimes.
The carriage moved steadily along Zhuque Avenue.
Puffing on his pipe, the Old Prince scoffed, “These young lads are too inexperienced. They couldn’t even spare a few more glances? I had all those fine speeches prepared for nothing.”
Then he turned to the person beside him and said, “So you, on the other hand, mustn't be like them. Look at you! so young, so beautiful! You should live freely, indulge yourself, enjoy life! Don’t let those stiff, rule-bound people like Gu Fang, Jiang Yue, or Hua Song bind you with their strict codes of conduct. Otherwise, if you’re locked up behind palace walls for a lifetime, wouldn’t that be a complete waste?”
When Jing Xuan asked the Old Prince to help him sneak out of the palace under the cover of the Mid-Autumn Festival night to visit Hua Ting at Nanfeng Pavilion, the Old Prince didn’t hesitate in the slightest.
Not only did he agree, but he was also quite encouraging about it.
He immediately ordered one of the dancers, whose figure was similar to Jing Xuan’s, to remove his clothes and let Jing Xuan change into them. Then, he had the dancer lie on the bed, pretending to be Jing Xuan in deep sleep, while Fu Chang remained behind to cover for him.
And just like that, Jing Xuan slipped past the palace guards without a hitch.
Though he didn’t entirely agree with the Old Prince’s hedonistic views, he had a favor to ask, so he simply smiled and humored him. “Uncle-Grandfather is absolutely right. But you know how Gu Fang is. If he finds out, I’ll get punished again. So please, Uncle-Grandfather…”
“I understand, I understand! Your Uncle-Grandfather has been through it all. Don’t worry, not a word will slip from my lips!”
“Then I thank Uncle-Grandfather.”
Jing Xuan chuckled playfully, adjusting his veil before stepping down from the carriage, his hands lifting the edges of his borrowed skirt.
The carriage quickly departed, its silver bells jingling, carrying away the sound of laughter.
—At the entrance of Zhangtai Alley—
Jing Xuan, who had been stubbornly holding himself together, finally faltered. His legs weakened, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground.
Fortunately, he managed to grab onto a cluster of green bamboo, preventing a complete fall.
He looked up at the full moon overhead, biting his lip as he forced himself to keep moving toward Nanfeng Pavilion, where Liu Chou’er had said to meet.
Hua Ting had once told him that each private room in Nanfeng Pavilion was named after a flower. The one Liu Chou’er had chosen was called Oleander.
A flower with an exceptionally long blooming season—beautiful, yet highly toxic.
Jing Xuan didn’t know if Liu Chou’er had chosen this room with a hidden meaning in mind, but it didn’t matter. He had no choice but to go.
Clutching the letter in his hand, he ascended the stairs to the third floor and kicked open the private room’s door.
The short walk had already left his inner garments drenched in sweat.
Inside, Liu Chou’er was standing by the incense burner, fiddling with the ashes. Without looking up at the commotion, he spoke in an indifferent tone, “So you really came.”
Jing Xuan’s voice was ice-cold. “Where are Hua Ting and the others?”
“I drugged them into unconsciousness, but don’t worry they’ll wake up on their own after tonight.”
“What is your connection to Jiang Yue?”
“This question came faster than I expected,” Liu Chou’er chuckled. “It seems you’re not as useless as the rumors claim.”
He brushed off the incense ash and continued, “I am the youngest son of the Liu family, the one that was eradicated by the court eight years ago. Minister Jiang Yue spared my life back then, hoping I would serve him. The gu in his daughter’s hands? I gave it to her.”
Jing Xuan was about to frown when Liu Chou’er interrupted with a smile, “But don’t worry, I don’t harm the innocent. The one I gave her is Xiangyin Gu, a parasite that merely nourishes and enhances beauty. As for the Full Moon and Blossoms Gu he wanted, I already used it on you.”
“…Full Moon and Blossoms?” Jing Xuan repeated.
“Mhm.” Liu Chou’er patiently explained, “It’s a type of gu that on the night of a full moon, forces its host to consummate with their designated cure. If they resist, they will endure unbearable agony, as though being devoured alive by a thousand insects. And over time, they will die from it.”
He tilted his head and smiled. “As for your cure… it should be none other than Gu Fang, the one who fed the parasite a drop of his blood.”
Jing Xuan’s face turned ashen. “You—!”
Furious, he raised his wrist, intending to fire the concealed dart hidden in his sleeve. But the moment he exerted strength, a wave of unbearable pain crashed over him, forcing him down onto one knee.
It was an agony unlike anything he had ever experienced—so excruciating that it bordered on death itself. Yet, through sheer will, he held himself up, refusing to let his other knee touch the ground.
He was an emperor. He would never kneel before a lowly schemer.
Large beads of sweat rolled from his forehead, slipping through the veil and dripping onto the floor.
Liu Chou’er, watching his struggle, crouched down and removed his veil.
A knowing smile curled on his lips.
“I knew it. You’re not as weak as they say.”
Jing Xuan didn’t respond. He only focused on steadying his breathing before asking coldly, “When did you figure it out?”
Liu Chou’er thought for a moment.
“The first time, at the gambling house. I got close enough to get a good look at you. You were breathtakingly beautiful, yet undoubtedly a man. I’ve never seen a man as stunning as you. I only heard rumors that such beauty existed in the imperial family.”
“Then, there was your servant. He changed into a common attendant’s uniform, but I happened to catch a glimpse of his inner garment. It was made of the finest silk. Someone with servants dressed in such luxury couldn’t be an ordinary person.”
“Next, when I was taken to Minister Jiang Yue’s residence, I heard rumors that you were Prince Xiangding’s escaped concubine. Yet, you also bore a resemblance to the current emperor. Minister Jiang Yue was particularly fixated on this detail. But I knew for certain that you were a man, which meant there was only one possibility.”
“You were the emperor himself.”
Liu Chou’er’s voice carried a hint of amusement. “As for why you deliberately played the role of Gu Fang’s concubine, I assumed it had something to do with investigating corruption. That’s when I was sure you weren’t just the emperor, but your relationship with Gu Fang was far more complex than it seemed.”
“That’s why I planted the Full Moon and Blossoms Gu in you and made sure it was fed with Gu Fang’s blood.”
“I wanted to see what exactly you meant to Gu Fang. Were you just a puppet ruler he wanted to eliminate? Or were you the little nephew he had raised with his own hands? Was he truly trying to control you, or had he been protecting you all along?”
“If it was the former, he wouldn’t come for you tonight. You’d be left alone to endure the agony of a thousand insects devouring your insides. But if it was the latter then I wanted to see how he would choose to ‘protect’ his little nephew. Would it be a betrayal to his emperor or a betrayal of his own bloodline?”
Liu Chou’er smiled, his eyes gleaming with twisted anticipation.
“No matter the outcome, it promises to be quite the spectacle.”
He exhaled softly and sighed, “Your Majesty, you truly are a likable person. Perhaps, given time, you could even become a great ruler. But unfortunately, Gu Fang has no weaknesses. He is too meticulous, leaving no room for anyone to exploit. Only you, naïve and kind-hearted walked right into my hands. It would have been a waste if I hadn’t used you.”
“But don’t blame me. After all, the tens of thousands of lives lost in Qianzhong Province still haven’t received justice. The court has remained silent. We, the insignificant commoners, have no choice but to use our own lives to demand an answer, to seek revenge for our families.”
“So, Your Majesty, shall we make a bet?” Liu Chou’er’s tone was eerily calm, yet filled with a strange excitement. “Shall we see whether Prince Xiangding will come tonight?”
Jing Xuan didn’t know what grudge Liu Chou’er held against Gu Fang, nor what exactly he was trying to accomplish. And he certainly had no idea what had truly happened in Qianzhong Province eight years ago.
All he knew was that he had to hold on to his last shred of reason. Digging his nails into his palm, he forced himself to remain clear-headed.
“That letter. Where did you get it?” he demanded.
The letter had to be real.
He had never dismissed the possibility that Gu Fang might one day overthrow him.
But if Gu Fang had been plotting against him for the past eight years, then what had all those years of trust and reliance meant?
Liu Chou’er smirked, as if he had expected this reaction.
“The letter’s origin? Why don’t you ask Prince Xiangding yourself when he arrives?” He chuckled. “If he doesn’t come, you’ll be dead before dawn. And if you’re going to die anyway, why does it even matter?”
He was forcing him to gamble.
But Jing Xuan didn’t want to bet.
A faint, mocking smile curled his lips.
“Gu Fang has urgent matters tonight. He won’t come. And I won’t play this game with you.” His voice was steady, unwavering. “Because there are only two things in this world I never gamble on—human hearts and human lives.”
“And besides” His eyes darkened, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, he still smiled, roguish and elegant. “I am not afraid of pain.”
“So I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”
Sweat trickled down his forehead, but he still managed to look impossibly beautiful. His lips curved in a smirk, his fox-like eyes full of lazy charm, the golden candlelight casting a soft glow over his face.
Even at his most wretched, he still possessed an irresistible allure.
For a fleeting moment, Liu Chou’er’s heart clenched.
Not because he had never seen a beauty like this, but because, for the first time, doubt crept into his mind.
He had never expected that, at a time like this, the emperor would still promise to give him an answer.
But that was impossible.
No one in power would ever grant justice to those as insignificant as ants.
This man was merely using his beauty to deceive.
He must not be trusted.
Liu Chou’er’s expression hardened. He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, refusing to look at Jing Xuan any longer.
“Then enjoy your night, Your Majesty.”
With that, he slammed the door shut behind him.
Jing Xuan finally lost all strength and collapsed onto the soft mattress.
Falling.
He had always feared falling.
But now, he had truly fallen.
And this feverish, unbearable pain—this searing heat that spread through every inch of his body—was something he had never experienced before.
A maddening, all-consuming desire surged through his veins, drowning his rationality, swallowing him whole.
"Little Uncle."
He wanted it. He really wanted it.
But he couldn't have it.
Because that person was Gu Fang. His teacher, his uncle, the all-powerful minister, and his sworn enemy.
Even if he died, he would never allow himself to have any kind of relationship with Gu Fang that he shouldn’t.
At the very least, coming here had ensured Hua Ting’s safety.
Jing Xuan bit his lip hard, crimson beads of blood seeping through. The layers of his red dance robe cascaded to the floor, revealing his snow-white shoulder. Digging his fingers into the beauty couch beneath him, he desperately reminded himself.
And yet, in that moment, he found it laughable.
He had dreamt of this.
In his dream, he was wearing red robes, and something happened between him and Gu Fang that should have never happened. He had struggled, doing everything in his power to prevent it.
He had destroyed the red robes.
He had searched for medicine that would render Gu Fang incapable.
He had maneuvered the court’s power plays, distancing himself from Gu Fang.
Yet, every step he took only seemed to push him further into that dream’s grasp.
Until he could no longer tell what was cause and what was effect.
Just like all those times before, when he had tried to change the outcome of his dreams only to find that either nothing changed at all, or that, despite avoiding one fate, he was merely led down a different path to the same end.
So was fate truly unchangeable?
Would Gu Fang really betray him?
And if he did, would he make a good emperor?
Would he govern the country well?
Would he create a world where young boys would never again lose their parents to war?
Jing Xuan didn’t know.
All he knew was that it hurt. It burned. It was unbearable.
The dim red candlelight flickered. The incense burner filled the room with a scent laced with aphrodisiac musk.
A searing heat gnawed at his body, his consciousness unraveling bit by bit.
The pain and desire were so overwhelming that, in his haze, his mind drifted back to a time when life had been simpler.
Back when his father guided him.
Back when his mother adored him.
Back when Gu Fang indulged him in everything.
Back then, whenever he wanted something, if his parents refused, he would run to his Little Uncle and Little Uncle would always find a way to get it for him.
And if he made a mistake, all he had to do was pout and call out “Little Uncle.”
Gu Fang would sigh helplessly and either clean up his mess or take the punishment in his stead.
Once, his father had ordered him to copy scriptures as punishment. But as he wrote, sleep crept up on him, and his young, naive self had dozed off at the desk.
When he jolted awake, the deadline was fast approaching.
He had turned, startled—only to see the window ajar, the rain falling in a soft, misty drizzle.
In the courtyard, peach blossoms bloomed in thousands, their petals soaked in rain, drifting down like whispers of spring.
And there stood a young man, tall and slender like green bamboo, his shoulders dusted with fallen petals.
Seeing him awake, the young man didn’t stop writing.
Still mimicking his handwriting, he continued copying the scriptures and murmured in a gentle voice:
"I saw a porcelain doll at the market today. Everyone said it was exquisite but I didn’t buy it because it wasn’t even a fraction as adorable as you."
That day, Gu Fang had also brought him peach blossom candy.
He had eaten too much and gotten a terrible toothache, unable to sleep all night.
And so, Gu Fang had stayed up with him, keeping him company through the pain.
Back then, whenever he was in pain, Gu Fang would always be there to soothe him.
But now, it hurt so much.
Would Gu Fang still come to comfort him?
Jing Xuan didn’t know.
Drowning in agony, on the brink of losing consciousness, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps.
Outside, the clamor of soldiers filled the night, but through the chaos, there was one pair of footsteps—fast, urgent, coming straight toward him.
He couldn’t see the man’s face.
He only saw the hem of a black robe embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons, rushing toward him with desperate speed.
He lifted a trembling hand, as if trying to grasp it but in the end, his strength failed. His fingers fell, powerless.
And all that was left was a soft, weak murmur:
"Little Uncle."