Chapter Sixty-Six: I Can’t Bear to Leave You

“What happened to her, exactly?” Yu Hualiang asked.

The Seventh Prince let out a sigh. “She’s suffered no visible injuries, but she still hasn’t awakened.”

Yu Hualiang pondered for a moment, suspecting it was carbon monoxide poisoning. If she survived, it was a blessing—sleeping for a few days was nothing unusual.

“She thinks I killed Qingzhang and insists I pay with my life… I’ll be wrongly accused to death at this rate…” Yu Hualiang muttered gloomily, sitting down to take a sip of water.

The Seventh Prince also sat, gazing at him for a long while before saying with remorse, “I’ve caused you much injustice, Ziliang.”

Yu Hualiang slowly raised his head to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not your fault. She simply doesn’t like me…”

The Seventh Prince watched him with deep affection, lifting his hand to gently touch Yu Hualiang’s face. Yu Hualiang startled, turning to look at him.

He laughed awkwardly. “Your Highness? What are you doing?”

“Ziliang, you’re beautiful.”

“Hm?” Yu Hualiang was dazed—was the Seventh Prince speaking nonsense?

Before Yu Hualiang could react, the prince suddenly embraced him, and Yu Hualiang let himself be held.

“You want to go to Fanhe, don’t you? I’ll allow it.”

“Eh?” Yu Hualiang was baffled. He pushed the Seventh Prince away a little and looked at him. “Zicheng? What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t bear to let you go.”

Though Yu Hualiang had long grown used to the prince’s tender words, he still sensed something odd in this. The prince had always been opposed to his leaving before. Did this mean the prince thought keeping him here was even more dangerous than sending him to the battlefield?

No matter what, this outcome was a boon to Cao Zhiling.

When Yu Hualiang returned, Jinhe was nowhere to be found. He saw only Cao Zhiling with a worried face, which eased a little upon seeing Yu Hualiang.

“You… are you alright?” Cao Zhiling was first to speak.

“I’m fine, truly. By the way, the Seventh Prince has agreed to let me go with you. I’ll be able to help you return home.”

Unexpectedly, Cao Zhiling did not seem pleased by this news; instead, he remained troubled, staring at his cup in silence.

Yu Hualiang was puzzled. He patted Cao Zhiling on the shoulder with a smile. “What’s wrong? What’s on your mind?”

Cao Zhiling had been lost in guilt toward Yu Hualiang. When Yu Hualiang patted him, he looked up to see that warm, gentle smile, and couldn’t help wanting to embrace him as well.

Yu Hualiang was stunned for a moment, then gently patted Cao Zhiling’s back in comfort, thinking he was simply overwhelmed with joy at being able to return home.

Cao Zhiling’s feelings for him were complicated and unspeakable. He knew Yu Hualiang would never reciprocate, so this embrace was both a gesture of gratitude and a silent confession—hoping he would accept both.

“Thank…”

Hearing that word, Yu Hualiang felt a wave of relief. Ever since he’d nearly caused Cao Zhiling’s death, he’d carried guilt in his heart. Being able to help in some way set his mind at ease.

But the sight of Cao Zhiling reminded Yu Hualiang of Princess Xuan—who, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, had accused him of murdering Qingzhang after some strange dream.

She had even tried to kill him for it! If things continued like this, Yu Hualiang feared he would one day die by her hand.

With a serious face, Yu Hualiang pushed Cao Zhiling away, placed both hands on his shoulders, and stared intently into his eyes.

Cao Zhiling’s heart raced under his gaze—could it be that Yu Hualiang felt something for him as well?

Yu Hualiang began, “Brother, could I trouble you with something?”

“Of course. What is it?” Cao Zhiling replied.

“Well…” Yu Hualiang hesitated, uncertain whether he should ask, but then, for his own safety, he continued, “Could you go see Princess Xuan and tell her that I didn’t kill Qingzhang?”

Cao Zhiling had expected something more significant and was a little disappointed, but after a pause, he nodded.

That night, Cao Zhiling slipped into Princess Xuan’s room and found her still asleep. Considering the heavy smoke from the fire that day, it was unsurprising. He felt some guilt toward her as well, having used her for his own ends. Taking a vial from his sleeve, he administered an awakening remedy—capable of dispelling all kinds of toxins.

After she swallowed the medicine, Cao Zhiling kept watch for half the night until she finally furrowed her brow and woke gradually.

Upon seeing him, Princess Xuan thought she must be dreaming. She reached out, wanting to touch this person who seemed so distant, and murmured, “Am I dead?”

He said nothing, only watched her.

With a weak laugh, she said, “Are you here to take me away?”

“I am not Qingzhang, and Qingzhang was not killed by Yu Hualiang.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, confused.

“I am no ghost,” Cao Zhiling said plainly. “Yu Hualiang did not kill Qingzhang. Don't ever think of harming him again, or I won’t be so forgiving!”

At his warning, tears rolled down Princess Xuan’s face once more. She rarely cried—even after marrying into the Seventh Prince’s house and suffering his indifference, she had not shed tears.

Her feelings had never reached the point of heartbreak. She held some affection for the Seventh Prince, but toward Cao Zhiling, it was true love. Since the day she saw that look in his eyes, she believed he was her destined one.

She had given her heart, yet fate was unkind, and it seemed that Yu Hualiang was to blame for all her misfortune. If not for him, she might have had a different life with the Seventh Prince—and now even Cao Zhiling was defending him.

Jealousy consumed Xuan Siren. Why did the Seventh Prince protect him? Why did Cao Zhiling, too?

“Why…” Her voice trembled.

Cao Zhiling said coldly, “I’ve said what I came to say. We part as strangers from now on.”

He turned to leave, but Princess Xuan, still weak, tumbled from the bed to the floor, reaching out desperately. “Don’t go!”

“Princess Xuan, thank you for your help before. But if you think again of harming him, I will not forgive you!”

With those words, Cao Zhiling left, and Xuan Siren’s heart sank into despair.

She cried out, “Don’t go! Why do you all protect him? What’s wrong with me? Why do you all hurt me?”

Cao Zhiling ignored her and walked away. As she watched him disappear, it was as if she’d awoken from a golden dream she could neither hold nor grasp. That night, her anguished sobs echoed, heart-wrenching.

When Cao Zhiling returned, Yu Hualiang was already asleep. Jinhe’s true identity had been exposed—she had left, as he knew she would. The corpse of Jinhe, killed by Liu Yu, had long been hidden away; Princess Xuan could never have reached Anxu Hall. It was all Liu Yu’s scheme. That man was cunning, but at least he was gone for good.

Liu Yu had indeed left, summoned by Lin Tang. Liu Yu resented having his games cut short, but he had no choice but to obey the imperial summons. He was made to wait outside the palace hall, kneeling for much longer than he was used to as a man of the martial world. Had there been no one watching, he would have sat down long ago.

Inside, the sounds of the Emperor and his consorts making merry grated on his ears.

Before long, someone emerged—it was Lin Tang, who looked down at him from on high and asked, “Any news from the Seventh Prince’s residence?”

Liu Yu averted his eyes and replied coldly, “This matter, I must report directly to His Majesty. I ask for your understanding, Brother Lin.”

Lin Tang’s expression darkened. He drew his sword from his belt, and as the blade neared Liu Yu’s neck, a strand of silver wire flashed, blocking the strike.

Refusing to be thwarted, Lin Tang twisted his blade and slashed to the side. Liu Yu’s heart raced—Lin Tang truly meant to kill him.

He quickly drew out his silver ice-thread, entangling Lin Tang’s sword. Realizing his weapon was immobilized, Lin Tang’s eyes grew colder. He snapped off the blade and lunged with the broken sword at Liu Yu’s throat.

In a panic, Liu Yu was cut, blood welling forth. To save his life, he put distance between them, leaping back a full ten feet.

“Brother Lin, do you really want to kill me?” Liu Yu demanded.

Lin Tang did not answer, but his actions left no doubt of his intent.

Just as Lin Tang was about to strike again, the Emperor emerged from within.

With a glance, the Emperor signaled Lin Tang, who obediently withdrew to his side.

Liu Yu knelt and bowed. “Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years!”

“Rise,” the Emperor said.

Lin Tang fetched a robe for him to wear. The Emperor gave a gentle smile and turned to Liu Yu. “What have you found at the Seventh Prince’s residence?”

Liu Yu replied, “Your Majesty, the Seventh Prince has behaved with utmost propriety—nothing unusual. Moreover, he seems to have developed a fondness for his own gender.”

“Oh? Is that so?” The Emperor crossed his legs on the chair Lin Tang had placed for him, gazing with interest.

“It is true, Your Majesty.”

“Who has caught his eye?” the Emperor asked, full of gossip.

Liu Yu smiled. “The eldest son of the Yu family, Yu Hualiang.”

Lin Tang was momentarily stunned—he had met this person before, and had even saved him, a memory he recalled clearly.

The Emperor glanced at Lin Tang and laughed. “He fancies a painter? Let him be. You may go now.”

Liu Yu kowtowed again. “Your servant takes his leave.”

When he had gone, the Emperor remarked, “That wandering swordsman’s spirit must still be tamed. Be vigilant, for keeping a wild dog at one’s side risks being bitten.”

Lin Tang replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Tang’er…”

The Emperor addressed him so intimately that Lin Tang was still not used to it. He whispered a reminder, “Your Majesty… this is the Jin Xuan Hall.”

The Emperor stepped closer, their faces nearly touching, and smiled. “The world is mine—who dares say a word? Tang’er is mine… I will call you as I wish.”

Lin Tang blushed, his breath coming a little quicker, likely from irritation.

The Emperor, emboldened, raised a hand to caress his face, gazing at him for a while before leaning in to kiss him. Lin Tang, quick-eyed, saw that Consort Jin was watching and stepped back, bowing. “Your Majesty, this is the Jin Xuan Hall.”

“Tang’er,” the Emperor said, his tone tinged with annoyance as he drew closer. “If you wish to rest here tomorrow, come to me.”

Powerless to defy him, Lin Tang bit his lip softly and stepped forward. The Emperor smiled, drew him into his arms, lifted his chin, and kissed him.

“Tang’er…” the Emperor murmured.

Lin Tang frowned, enduring the kiss obediently.

Afterward, the Emperor did nothing more and pressed his hands on Lin Tang’s shoulders. “Tang’er, call me Ziyan.”

Lin Tang frowned in embarrassment, especially with someone watching. “Your Majesty…”

“Tang’er, just once.”

Lin Tang could not resist that slightly pleading tone, so he yielded. “Zi…yan.”