It didn’t matter.
If it came to the final moment and Liu Yuanxun learned the truth, he still wouldn’t abandon him. Liu Yuanxun would take pity, assuming desperation had driven him to it.
He was a good man—a man racked by illness and facing imminent death, yet still willing to forgive others.
Gu Lianzhao couldn’t fathom him. Liu Yuanxun seemed utterly strange. How could his temper be so even? How could he tolerate people like this? He was dying—didn’t he hate?
Gu Lianzhao couldn’t help reflecting on himself. Were he in a position of such noble status, saddled with a fated early death, he wouldn’t wait until the end. Long before that day, while still alive, he would drag others down to hell with him.
If he were emperor, he would be the sort of tyrant who demanded a horde of living sacrifices to accompany him in death.
But Liu Yuanxun… How could he accept his own demise so calmly? How could he… surrender so easily?
The room was sweltering with steam, making Gu Lianzhao’s head feel feverish. He kept his head lowered in silence for a long while, until the increasingly pungent smell of the food on the table gave him a convenient excuse. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll call someone to clear the dishes.”
With that, he hurried away on swift feet, leaving the room to fall instantly silent.
It wasn’t long before the servant tasked with clearing the table entered the room. But Gu Lianzhao did not follow.
The servants in the courtyard were normally managed by Ling Qing, so Liu Yuanxun wasn’t familiar with them. When he saw someone enter, he paid it little mind and simply rose to head toward the screen, asking casually, “Where’s Gu Jiu?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the servant, who had been pretending to be busy, charged at him. In an instant, a cold gleam flashed—a razor-sharp dagger appeared in the servant’s hand!
The moment the servant lunged, Liu Yuanxun sensed something was wrong. Without time to think, he snatched an object from the antique shelf and hurled it. At the same time, he bolted toward the side room with all his might.
The servant knew no martial arts. When the object came flying at him, he dodged on instinct. But that brief moment wasn’t nearly enough time for Liu Yuanxun to reach safety.
In the blink of an eye, several thoughts raced through Liu Yuanxun’s mind. If he faced the attacker head-on and took the blade barehanded, he might lose an arm at worst. But if he turned his back with no defense, the assassin could easily plunge the dagger through his heart, ending his life.
At this life-or-death juncture, there was no room for hesitation. The servant was now mere inches away, raising the dagger high to stab down viciously. Liu Yuanxun whipped around, eyes locked on the incoming blade. Gritting his teeth, he unhesitatingly lifted his arm to block the strike.
Just then, at this critical moment, a deafening bang rang out! The door burst open under tremendous force, and a black shadow streaked inside like lightning. Even so, the figure’s speed couldn’t outpace the descending dagger.
Liu Yuanxun had already braced for the knife when the servant’s eyes suddenly bulged wide. The dagger clattered to the floor, and his body collapsed like a sack of mud.
Startled, Liu Yuanxun felt the courage born of desperation ebb away. His legs buckled, and he staggered back half a step before tumbling onto the bed.
Still shaken, he sat on the edge without relaxing his guard. He scooted farther onto the bed until he glimpsed the iron crossbow bolt embedded in the back of the servant’s head. Only then did he breathe a little easier, certain the man was dead.
With the assassin down, the obstacle blocking his view vanished. Liu Yuanxun noticed a small hole pierced through the screen.
Beyond the two screens stood Gu Lianzhao, frozen in place as if under a petrification spell.
Liu Yuanxun glanced down at the corpse beside him, then lifted his eyes to Gu Lianzhao beyond the screens. His voice still trembled, but his expression had steadied. “A’Qiao, that was some impressive skill.”
To land a perfect shot to the head through two screens demanded profound cultivation that few could match.
Gu Lianzhao didn’t reply. He didn’t move.
He stood there like a statue, neither approaching to check the assassin nor responding. This odd behavior put Liu Yuanxun on alert once more.
He slipped quietly off the bed and inched step by step toward the side room, hoping the door would provide some cover.
Perhaps his fear finally reached Gu Lianzhao beyond the screens. Suddenly, Gu Lianzhao strode forward with a menacing air.
When he reached the corpse, he lashed out with a fierce kick. With a muffled thud, the body flew up half a meter before slamming heavily into the wall.
The sheer murderous aura rolling off Gu Lianzhao made Liu Yuanxun shudder. He instinctively took half a step back, but before he could retreat further, Gu Lianzhao wrapped an arm around his waist and yanked him into a crushing embrace.
The hold was too tight, too fierce—Liu Yuanxun felt like he might suffocate. He raised his hands to push away, only to feel something damp on his shoulder.
The room was stiflingly hot, and he’d just eaten, so he’d removed his outer robe and wore only a thin inner layer. The fabric offered no resistance to tears; in moments, a wet patch spread across his shoulder.
He… was crying?
Gu Lianzhao was actually crying?!
Stunned and bewildered, Liu Yuanxun went rigid. Utterly lost, he stood there like a lifeless log, letting Gu Lianzhao cling to him.
It was a long while before Gu Lianzhao spoke softly. Were it not for the dampness on his shoulder, Liu Yuanxun wouldn’t have guessed he’d been crying. “Your Highness…” Gu Lianzhao murmured.
Still deep in shock, Liu Yuanxun dazedly replied with a vague “Mm.”
“I was so scared just now,” Gu Lianzhao said.
Liu Yuanxun mumbled another “Mm,” still dazed.
Gu Lianzhao loosened his grip just enough to let Liu Yuanxun breathe, though he still held him tight. “My crossbow skills are just average.”
One sentence after another, each with a slight pause—plenty of time for Liu Yuanxun to respond. But Gu Lianzhao’s tears had blanked his mind; he had no idea what to say, so he just “Mm”ed each time.
“So when I loosed that bolt, I thought you were dead.” With that, Gu Lianzhao nuzzled his shoulder like an enormous cat.
At first, Liu Yuanxun thought it was affection. Then he realized Gu Lianzhao was simply wiping his tears on the fabric. Once done, Gu Lianzhao released his waist and moved his hands to Liu Yuanxun’s shoulders.
By now, the tear tracks had vanished from Gu Lianzhao’s face. His headband—the one concealing his mark as a ger—had shifted slightly, revealing a hint of red.
The atmosphere felt utterly bizarre to Liu Yuanxun: a corpse, blood, a crossbow bolt, and Gu Lianzhao’s tears…
The first three belonged in a ghost story, and the last fit right in. Amid all this, for him to notice whether Gu Lianzhao’s headband was askew struck Liu Yuanxun as rather peculiar.
After those words, Gu Lianzhao fell silent, gripping his shoulders and staring blankly into his eyes.
Liu Yuanxun gave another dry “Mm.” Realizing how aloof he sounded, he wanted to pat Gu Lianzhao’s shoulder and offer praise, but his arms were pinned too tightly to move.
He could only reassure him verbally. “Rest assured, I’m fine. You did wonderfully—I haven’t a scratch.”
Gu Lianzhao’s face remained expressionless. Compared to Liu Yuanxun, he looked more like the one who’d lost his soul from sheer fright.
Yet his reply came swiftly. “I’m not worried.”
“Ah… right…”
The blank, emotionless stare made Liu Yuanxun deeply uncomfortable. He averted his gaze. Before he could recover, Gu Lianzhao said, “Look at me.”
Liu Yuanxun didn’t want to. Those three words evoked the same oppressive feeling as their nights in the palace; he recoiled from it instinctively. Dodging his eyes, he softened his tone. “…A’Qiao, did that scare you?”
“Yes,” Gu Lianzhao said without hesitation.
The firm, decisive word carried clear concern, cracking the suffocating pressure. Liu Yuanxun smiled faintly. “It’s all right. The matter’s over.”
Born into fortune, he’d faced little hardship. Gentle and kind by nature, he always instinctively shied from gore and cruelty. But that didn’t make him timid. On the contrary, when someone needed him, he stepped up more than anyone.
Just as he’d once risked his life outside the Imperial Study for Liu Yuanze, now, hearing Gu Lianzhao’s fear, he suppressed his own terror to comfort him first.
“No matter how skilled you are with a crossbow—or how much luck played a part—you landed that shot and saved me unscathed. You’re amazing, A’Qiao.”
As his gentle words flowed, Gu Lianzhao’s grip eased. But his stare remained fixed.
Liu Yuanxun withdrew his hand and gently straightened the headband. Then, as intended, he patted Gu Lianzhao’s shoulder and smiled lightly. “Perfect timing—I bought a gift this morning and was wondering how to give it to you.”
“I don’t want it.” A flicker of life finally crossed Gu Lianzhao’s face, though he didn’t seem pleased or relieved. Instead, he frowned slightly, looking burdened.
Liu Yuanxun found it odd. “You haven’t even seen what it is. How do you know you won’t like it?”
Gu Lianzhao fully released him and stood with hands at his sides, eyes locked on Liu Yuanxun’s. “It’s not that. I want to change it.”
“Change it to what?”
Gu Lianzhao said, “It all felt like an illusion. Hug me, Your Highness. Make my heart settle.”
“What’s the harm? But how’s that a gift?”
Liu Yuanxun saw no issue. He reached around Gu Lianzhao’s waist, planning a brief, propriety-minded embrace before pulling away. To his surprise, Gu Lianzhao seized his arms and leaned his head on his shoulder, seeking solace.
Remembering his earlier words, Liu Yuanxun stayed still, letting him hold on.
The hug lasted only two seconds before a gasp sounded from the doorway.
The Ling Clan siblings, returning from the stables, spotted the crashed-open door and rushed in, alarmed.
Rounding the screen, they saw the two men locked in a tight embrace.
Though Liu Yuanxun reacted quickly and shoved Gu Lianzhao away, the sight of his arms around Gu Lianzhao’s waist had been seared clearly into the siblings’ eyes.
Ling Qing stood dumbfounded, too shocked to react.
“It’s not… what it…” Liu Yuanxun began to explain, but thinking of Eunuch Hong and Liu Yuanze sapped his will. He rubbed his brow in resignation. “Let’s deal with the body first…”
