Voices clamored, red banners fluttered.
Inside and outside the Lin Residence, a festive air of joy and harmony prevailed.
Today was the auspicious wedding day of the Lin family’s second young master, Lin Qinghe, and Prince Chengxuan. His Majesty himself had penned the marriage decree—an unparalleled honor celebrated by all under heaven.
It seemed a match made in heaven, a beautiful union. But appearances were deceiving.
Lin Qinghe was born to the Lin family’s second wife. Extremely intelligent since childhood, his talent was extraordinary, and he was steeped in the aura of scholarship. At eighteen, he had earned the title of Tanhua.
A figure like him should have been making great strides in the Scroll Pavilion. Yet overnight, he was betrothed to serve as the male attendant of Prince Chengxuan—a man known for his violent temper and lust for beauty—to warm his bed and have his pride utterly crushed. It was truly lamentable.
If the deceased second wife knew of this, she would likely be furious enough to toss aside her coffin lid and leap out to curse Lin Qinghe’s father, Lin Feng, and eighteen generations of his ancestors.
At this moment, a crowd had gathered outside Orchid Wing Court, all dressed in resplendent finery and silk skirts, holding round silk fans half-concealing their faces as they whispered softly.
Most were there to watch the drama unfold.
“Prince Chengxuan is His Majesty’s favorite prince, Qinghe. Marrying him brings glory to the Lin family. Besides, the Crown Prince is young and the Empress’s Palace has fallen out of favor. Following Prince Chengxuan can only benefit you.”
By the latticed window, Lin Feng stood with his hands behind his back, his stature very tall. The shadow of the dark green Podocarpus on the high platform obscured his sharp brows and eyes.
The two maidservants attending to Lin Qinghe’s dressing looked somewhat tense under this stern tone. They stole a glance at Lin Qinghe, who stood before the bronze mirror.
Someone had once said that a figure like Lin Qinghe was too ethereal, like a dream of flowers in a mirror or the moon’s reflection on water. When the dream ended, would one realize that spring blossoms and autumn moons were all just fleeting illusions.
He wore a pure white robe, cinched at the waist to outline his slender frame. His posture was straight and tall, his temperament like uncut jade. It seemed only orchids and iris could truly match him.
“Absurd,” Lin Qinghe said slowly, a hint of mockery in his voice toward Lin Feng’s words. “If the Lin family needs such means to achieve glory, then I fear its fortunes are running out.”
The Crown Prince was the second child of the Empress’s Palace. Though his status was noble, His Majesty favored the Imperial Consort, and the prince was constantly harassed. Lin Qinghe had aided him many times, incurring the wrath of Prince Chengxuan.
His Majesty’s health was failing day by day. The Imperial Consort stayed by his side, attending to him with meticulous care. With a tearful plea, how could His Majesty refuse? And so Lin Qinghe was betrothed to Prince Chengxuan.
Marriages between men had occurred before, but never had one been so publicly celebrated for a Tanhua. The entire household was waiting for the show to begin, for they truly could not bear to see Lin Qinghe prosper.
Lin Feng showed no anger. His tone was flat. “The imperial decree is unyielding. From now on, the Lin family and Prince Chengxuan are one. Your mother’s memorial tablet will finally be placed in the ancestral hall. I imagine Fuxuan would be pleased.”
He had little affection for this son, and little for Liu Fuxuan either. Liu Fuxuan had always been cold toward him, and he couldn’t bring himself to curry favor with a concubine. As for Lin Qinghe, though outwardly polite, he had never held his father in high regard.
Now he could both make Lin Qinghe disappear and reap the benefits. Why not do it?
With that thought, he added, “It’s time to change into the wedding robes. Yan Ju and Qiu Tang, attend to the young master properly.”
Yan Ju and Qiu Tang exchanged glances, then bowed slightly in reply. “Yes.”
After the group left, satisfied, Lin Qinghe pursed his lips, his expression grave.
“Prepare brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.”
Qiu Tang asked, “Young Master, what are you—?”
Lin Qinghe went to the desk, lifting a sleeve. “Writing a letter to the Crown Prince.”
The influence of the Imperial Consort, Prince Chengxuan, and their faction had spread across the court. His Majesty was gravely ill, and the Empress’s Palace was as cold as a deserted palace. To protect the realm, the only option was to recall General Xiao Qi, stationed at the frontier. Time was pressing. Whether to stay or leave, he urged the Crown Prince to deliberate carefully.
Beyond this, he could do nothing more. He had no desire to involve himself in factional strife; his earlier rescue of the Crown Prince was merely an act of a man of integrity.
Lin Qinghe gazed quietly out the window. Falling into Prince Chengxuan’s hands would be a fate worse than death.
The evening clouds on the horizon were a deep crimson.
A maidservant sent by Prince Chengxuan stood at the gate of Orchid Wing Court and knocked. “Young Master Lin, are you ready to change?”
No answer.
The guards ordered to wait here exchanged uneasy glances. After calling out twice with no response, they slowly approached the door.
“Young Master Lin? Young Master Lin?” The maidservant sensed something wrong. She wondered if he had hanged himself.
“Forgive my impertinence, I’m opening the door, Young Master Lin.”
The door swung open. No one was in sight.
The maidservant stepped inside, the guards following cautiously.
Suddenly, Lin Qinghe, hidden behind the door, swung a wooden club at the nearest guard’s head. The guard crumpled to the floor. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lin Qinghe turned and ran.
The maidservant shouted, “Someone! Young Master Lin has run away!”
“Seize him!”
“Catch him! Do you want to lose your heads?”
“Hurry! Don’t delay the hour!”
Lin Qinghe had never run so fast in his life. It was a fight for survival. He sprinted through the courtyard, crossed the pavilion bridge, and aimed for a small side gate.
His pursuers were close behind, quickly closing the distance. A guard reached out and grabbed him, throwing Lin Qinghe off balance.
He reacted swiftly, swinging the club at the guard, but missed. The momentum sent him stumbling a few steps.
The guard pressed forward to capture him. Lin Qinghe fought desperately. Below the pavilion bridge was a lotus pond, its water green, the mud deep and bottomless.
A splash.
Everyone cried out.
“Young Master Lin has fallen into the water!!!”
“Save him!”
“Damn it! Save him!!!!”
Lin Qinghe felt the icy water surrounding him, a bone-piercing cold.
He struggled, sinking deeper and deeper, his breathing more labored. Bubbles escaped his mouth as water rushed in from all sides.
He was reaching his limit. His eyelids grew heavy. He had no strength left to fight.
When death came, one’s life flashed before one’s eyes. The last image lingering in Lin Qinghe’s mind was Liu Fuxuan sitting under a tree, waving an embroidered fan, and saying with a smile, “Qinghe, I made you osmanthus cake.”
A fine rain drizzled, and the evening breeze was cool. On the main road of the Lin Mountain Villa District, a luxurious Bentley glided smoothly along.
The driver, Little Li, glanced at the back seat through the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. How could people be so different?
He and Cen Han were the same age—twenty-seven. One was a brilliant young talent, a noble surrounded by admirers. The other was a worker barely keeping his job after being thrust into it by the previous driver, struggling to earn a living to support his family. The gap between them was insurmountable.
He shook his head slightly and refocused on the road. Then, a sudden shock made him jump—a white figure flashed right in front of the car, inches away, appearing out of thin air!
“Ah!”
Little Li cried out and slammed on the brakes. Cold sweat poured from him, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat. After a few deep breaths, he looked up to find the white figure had vanished.
No… he couldn’t have hit someone, could he?
Little Li was frozen stiff.
“What’s the matter?” a voice asked.
Cen Han fixed his attention on the driver, frowning slightly. His eyes were deep as a vast blue sea, his face sharply defined, mature and handsome.
Little Li, still shaken, said, “Mr. Cen, a white figure just flashed by. I… I think I might have hit someone.”
Li Tang was the nephew of the previous driver, Old Li. Old Li had resigned due to family matters and had recommended Little Li to Cen Han before leaving. During the trial period, Little Li had proven honest and reliable, so he was kept on.
He was a bit young and inexperienced, but that was fine. One step at a time.
Cen Han lifted his chin. “Go and have a look.”
“Yes, Mr. Cen.”
Little Li hesitated for a moment, silently praying. Please let it be nothing. Otherwise, this job I just got will be gone.
He got out of the car, his legs weak and trembling slightly, and walked slowly toward the front of the vehicle.
All hope turned to ashes.
Lying on the road was a young man, his hair tied up, dressed in white robes—not modern clothes, but more like something from a film set.
Some celebrities lived in the Lin Mountain Villa District. Little Li’s first thought was, Damn, will I end up on the trending searches tomorrow?
#Shocking: Driver Li runs over a star, sending him to hospital#
A prompting voice came from inside the car. Little Li shuddered, shaking off the thought. “Mr. Cen, there’s… there’s a…”
He quickly crouched down and, relying on muscle memory, reached out to check the situation.
But the next second, his hand was grabbed unexpectedly. A chill shot through him.
Li Tang gasped and pulled his hand away, already picturing where he’d be buried.
“Cough…”
“Cough… cough…”
Lin Qinghe lay sprawled on the ground, coughing up water. He was disoriented, his vision blurry and unfocused. It took a while before he felt a little better.
Steady footsteps approached. Through his daze, he saw a tall figure.
Cen Han was much calmer than Little Li. He pulled out his phone, called a hospital contact, and briefly explained the situation.
Then he looked down at Lin Qinghe. “Where do you feel uncomfortable?”
Lin Qinghe had no idea where he was.
There was no doubt this was a strange world. He hadn’t drowned; instead, he had stumbled into a place beyond his understanding. Realizing he had finally escaped Prince Chengxuan, he felt a slight relief.
A cool breeze blew, and Lin Qinghe sneezed. He replied in a muffled voice, “I feel a bit cold.”
Only then did Little Li come to his senses. The car had been driving in the middle of the road, and there was no sidewalk here, so he was driving legally. The white figure had appeared out of nowhere.
His inner thoughts were turbulent.
Could this be a scammer?
No, definitely not. Who, when hit by a car, would first complain of being cold instead of saying where it hurt?
“Where did I hit you? Your thigh? Or somewhere else?”
Let it not be the head.
His wet clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin. Lin Qinghe slowly sat up on the ground and answered, “Esteemed sir, you misunderstand. I wasn’t hit. I merely fell into a lake.”
Little Li’s heart raced a bit.
Definitely the head.
Cen Han pursed his lips and said briefly to the person on the phone, “Patient shows possible symptoms of mental disturbance.”
Though Lin Qinghe didn’t understand what “patient” meant, he understood “mental disturbance.” Connecting the conversation, he was most likely the one being referred to as disturbed.
Despite the offense, he wasn’t angry. Instead, he repeated gently, “I truly was not hit.”
With that, he stood up directly to show he was fine.
Little Li immediately extended both hands to support him, afraid that Lin Qinghe might misstep and break a bone.
Thankfully, nothing bad happened.
But then, Lin Qinghe swayed unsteadily.
And completely passed out.
…
Cen Han looked at the person who had collapsed into his arms. The clothes were soaked, with a few red plum blossoms embroidered at the lapels. Strands of disheveled hair clung to his temples, adding a touch of hazy beauty.
He was like the cold pines and bamboos on a distant mountain—misty and enchanting.
The weight on his arm and shoulder told him this man had lost consciousness. He tested his breathing with a finger—warm.
After a moment, Cen Han hung up the phone and said, “Send him to the hospital.”
Little Li watched his employer lift the young man in his arms and suddenly felt that he, as a driver, was rather useless.
He muttered, “With that getup, he might be an actor, Mr. Cen. We should go to a private hospital.”
As he started the engine, Little Li heard Cen Han say, “To Yulin.”
Yulin was the largest private hospital in Western Capital. Little Li acknowledged and felt a pang of guilt.
Over the past few days, the boss had been busy dealing with a troublesome traffic star from Starlight Entertainment. He had finally finished work, only to run into this. If it were him, he would have lost his temper long ago.
His voice was apologetic. “Mr. Cen, I’m sorry. If I had been more careful…”
“It’s fine. Just watch the road.”
Cen Han replied casually.
It didn’t seem like he had encountered trouble.
Cen Han knew the entertainment industry well. The young man in his arms had exceptional looks and temperament. If he entered the industry, he would become famous. But as far as Cen Han knew, he had never seen this face before, so he had already ruled out the driver’s speculation about a celebrity.
A subordinate was in a dilemma over Xu Anyu’s matter—neither wanting to give up that promising seedling nor wanting to offend him. A feasible solution began to form in Cen Han’s mind.
Cen Han caught a faint scent of ink and closed his eyes, his expression calm.
