Had Liu Yuanxun done anything wrong?
No. But he hated him anyway.
He and Liu Yuanxun were doomed to no end. Liu Yuanxun was a heartless living Buddha, a sickly invalid on his last legs—what future could there be with someone like that? Cherish him, love him, and call it a day. Want to possess him? That was nothing but a humiliating joke, asking for self-inflicted shame.
If he had to find somewhere to pour out this tangled mess of emotions, it was better to hate him than to love him. Love demanded reciprocation; hatred did not.
Besides, wasn’t hating him exactly what he deserved?
A goody two-shoes like that ought to get his comeuppance.
A bleeding heart deserved punishment.
When Liu Yuanxun flung himself at Gu Lianzhao day after day, clinging to his neck as if he wanted to burrow into his very marrow, he should have known retribution was coming.
Gu Lianzhao squeezed his eyes shut tight, fighting the savage urge to snap Liu Yuanxun’s wrist. A mad impulse even flickered through his mind: unleash a surge of true qi to shatter Liu Yuanxun’s heart meridians, then drag his corpse away into the rivers and lakes of the jianghu.
But it was only an impulse.
Or rather, a fantasy born of emotional venting.
Only by killing him off in his imagination once could those unfamiliar, tender feelings in his heart die alongside him.
He shouldn’t have gone soft.
He should have hoped for Liu Yuanxun to drop dead sooner.
Suddenly, regret washed over him. Why had he stepped in to help at noon?
It had been the perfect opportunity! If he hadn’t intervened, wouldn’t everything have ended right there? No grilling from Eunuch Hong, no fear of getting mired too deep. With Liu Yuanxun dead, he could return to the Imperial Prison.
That was where he belonged.
That was the place that truly needed him.
Yet in that moment, his body had acted as if possessed by someone else’s will. With his mind blank, it had somehow made the right call on its own.
Gu Lianzhao dug his nails into his palm, forcing his chaotic thoughts under control. In his mind, he chanted silently: Power! Power!
Those two words were the only true shelter he had, the sole goal worth pursuing in this life. He’d already endured enough suffering from the world—why fret over someone whose fate was all but sealed?
Since Liu Yuanxun was dying anyway, why not play along? Let him pour out every last drop of his kindness on Gu Lianzhao. Pave his path, warm his bed, hook those slender white arms around his neck, and sleep soundly in his embrace.
That would be enough.
That would be perfect.
He was a villain at heart—why keep trying to save him? Why worry about his life or death? Why treat him like some saint would?
Men with long legs always wander off, but a man in a coffin stays put. A living Liu Yuanxun might belong to someone else one day, but a dead one would belong to him alone.
That said, he wasn’t some unreasonable brute.
He did remember Liu Yuanxun’s kindnesses.
So he decided to give Liu Yuanxun one last chance.
Gu Lianzhao lowered his gaze, hiding the storm of emotions in his eyes. He withdrew his true qi and slowly released his grip, murmuring softly, “Your Highness, my true qi has already circulated seven small heavenly cycles through your body. How do you feel now?”
The moment Gu Lianzhao’s hand pulled away, Liu Yuanxun propped himself up on the bed and sat, scrambling as far from him as possible. Afraid of making Gu Lianzhao feel awkward, he clambered stiffly to the other side of the bed, fussing with the covers in a show of busyness.
“Ahem.” Liu Yuanxun cleared his throat, pretending everything was normal. “It’s truly effective. You saved my life first, then helped tune up my body—you deserve a gift as thanks. I saw something perfect for you. Tomorrow, I’ll have Ling Ting fetch it from the storehouse.”
Gu Lianzhao watched coldly from behind, his lips curving faintly, though his eyes were chilling. “Very well. Thank you, Your Highness.”
Liu Yuanxun hurried to reply, “It’s the least I can do. The least I can do.”
The atmosphere had been so warm moments ago; now it was frigid enough to frost over.
Liu Yuanxun remained oblivious. He shuffled back from the other side of the bed, burrowed under the covers, and prepared to sleep. He tucked himself in, blinked up at Gu Lianzhao with wide eyes, and asked earnestly, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“I’m not tired,” Gu Lianzhao said, staring at the man beneath the quilt. He hated him so fiercely his teeth nearly shattered, but he forced a smile onto his face. “You go ahead and rest.”
Gu Lianzhao had lit the incense Hong Fu brought before bed. The bewitching incense had no effect on ordinary folk, but for a patient like Liu Yuanxun, it worked wonders.
Having inhaled so much, he was already drowsy. He’d only held out because of the matter at hand. Now, the moment he lay down and closed his eyes, his breathing grew deep and even.
Gu Lianzhao sat motionless on the bed.
A faint plum fragrance still lingered on his body, but the man who had pleaded in a soft voice earlier—begging him to stay—couldn’t wait to be rid of him now that he was done being used. Not even a second longer; he shook off the hand and fled.
Gu Lianzhao had given Liu Yuanxun a chance.
And Liu Yuanxun had made his choice.
Fine, Gu Lianzhao thought. Whatever.
Liu Yuanxun wasn’t wrong. Neither was he.
This path was destined to end this way from the start.
He had no idea what “consummating the marriage” truly entailed, but Liu Yuanxun surely did—or at least had some inkling. Yet he said nothing, took no action.
If Liu Yuanxun didn’t care about his own life, why should Gu Lianzhao delude himself, agonizing over whether to save him? Had he caught some disease from that bleeding heart after spending too much time around him?
Gu Lianzhao let out a self-mocking chuckle. He pillowed his head on one arm and stared up at the bed canopy’s patterns. Suddenly, memories of his childhood flooded back.
The year he turned five, plague ravaged his small town. When he crawled out from the pile of corpses, the sky was ablaze with raging flames.
Catapults outside the city hurled fireballs wrapped in accelerants. They rained down like shooting stars in a spectacular display, only to erupt into infernos on impact—harbingers of death.
The city lay in deathly silence. Nearly everyone was dead; the few survivors were too ravaged by disease to cry out.
But he was different. He’d fallen ill, slept it off, and miraculously survived.
As the fire swept closer, he dragged his frail body and leaped into the river, swimming with every ounce of strength to stay alive.
Until he was eight, he wandered aimlessly.
But his wandering had purpose: to reach the capital, find Gu Mingyuan, and force him to acknowledge his son.
No matter the hardship, no matter the trials, he needed a foothold. Only by claiming Gu Mingyuan as his father could he mingle with the elite and carve out his path.
He wouldn’t just survive—he’d thrive. He’d climb to a height where no one could touch him, living freely.
He had mapped out his entire life early on. In that life, there was no room for love or money—only power.
He would climb steadily, step by step. From Deputy Commanding Officer to Commanding Officer, to Left and Right Commanders…
His ambition matched his appetite: boundless.
Indeed, before meeting Liu Yuanxun, everything had gone precisely as planned.
Pacification Commissioner at eighteen! The youngest in the history of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—and ninth among the Thirteen Great Protectors to boot.
If his post as Pacification Commissioner owed something to Liu Xun’s patronage, his ninth ranking was won with his own blade and fists.
Yet at eighteen, his foundations were shaky, with no one at his back. Still, he’d dared to exploit Liu Yuanxun’s naivety and mercy—to defile him.
When Liu Xun had taken him under his wing, he’d warned that his desires ran too deep, his nerve too bold; retribution would come.
Gu Lianzhao had brushed it off outwardly, scorning the notion inwardly. What was life without desire? No different from death.
Without the will to live, he never would have clawed out of that corpse pile. Without the hunger to live well, he couldn’t have endured the great famine and walked to the capital. Without his lust for power, he never would have mastered such profound martial arts or risen so high!
His entire life, the drive and grit to survive had come from desires vast enough to swallow the heavens.
He’d indulged them, nurtured them, wielded them. Over the years, he’d tamed his desires like a tiger—fierce and terrifying.
He’d thought his desire for Liu Yuanxun would be the same. With enough nerve and cunning, Liu Yuanxun would become his prey, baring his soft belly, his fleeting life transformed into the finest delicacy on Gu Lianzhao’s plate.
But this desire for Liu Yuanxun had twisted into a cage.
It no longer fueled him with drive and courage. Instead, it sowed panic and fear, left him swinging from joy to rage on Liu Yuanxun’s every word.
This feeling was far too perilous. His reason screamed for him to pull back from the brink, but his instincts howled to devour it all.
Gu Lianzhao shifted to his knees, gazing at Liu Yuanxun’s serene sleeping face like the grim reaper in the dead of night.
“Your Highness.” He called softly, his voice barely a whisper. Liu Yuanxun, of course, gave no response.
“Teach me… teach me what to do…” Murmuring like a devout believer, he slowly raised a hand and began peeling away Liu Yuanxun’s clothes.
As the garments fell away, pale skin gleamed under a sheen of moonlight. The curves of his shoulders, neck, and waist were perfection itself; just looking at them conjured visions of silken smoothness. There was a natural fragility to his beauty that stirred an irresistible urge to shatter it.
Gu Lianzhao’s body burned hot, his teeth aching. The beast within his blood roared to tear, to bite, to crunch bones and gulp down flesh and blood—to quench the raging thirst.
“Is this your answer to me?” He leaned down, lips brushing Liu Yuanxun’s neck. His voice was a low, muffled growl, ghostly in the night. “You’re tempting me.”
His lips moved as he spoke, each word a feather-light kiss.
The pose seemed tender, but Gu Lianzhao knew the truth: from this vulnerable spot, one clench of his jaws would rip open Liu Yuanxun’s throat, letting him drain the blood and end it all.
Gu Lianzhao knelt beside Liu Yuanxun for a long time, letting the hours slip by, still no closer to an answer.
Yet he felt Liu Yuanxun had shown him the way.
Desire raged; reason crumbled. In the battle, reason crumbled once more in the night.
Gu Lianzhao bit down gently on Liu Yuanxun’s throat. Mumbling through clenched teeth, he thought: Leave it to the daylight.
Daytime Liu Yuanxun for daytime him to handle. Nighttime Liu Yuanxun for nighttime him to savor.
He was utterly enamored with this plum fragrance, liking it so intensely that he itched to draw a bit of blood just to taste its flavor. But there was no rush—the incense from Eunuch Hong proved remarkably effective, granting him ample time to savor the white plum under the moonlight.
Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that…
They were all his.
