Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"002"

Having rested for a night, the next day Xiao Lancui went to the city library.

He'd spent the night before getting used to this high-tech new era. The internet really could turn up a lot of useful info, but for accurate historical records, he'd still have to dig through history books.

Xiao Lancui loved reading. Back when he was the Xiao family heir, he didn't have his own study. Every day, he had to trek across most of the Xiao estate from his quarters to his father's study, and he still went no matter the weather.

By the time he became the Chief Grand Secretary, the new emperor ordered a library built next to his residence, and all the rare books and fragmentary manuscripts from the imperial collection were moved there.

This once again sparked a flood of memorials from both the court and the wider world.

The new emperor just smiled and said, "My teacher loves to read."

The modern city library was naturally grander and more extensive than that one. In this new kind of library, you could use computers to look up books yourself. Xiao Lancui knew that, but he hadn't figured it out yet. He headed straight for the information desk and asked, "Where is the history section?"

It was deep winter, and the library's heating was making everyone drowsy. The staff member was about to brush him off with a "Look it up on the computer yourself," but when he turned and caught sight of Xiao Lancui, his words instantly became, "Go up to the second floor, turn left, and head all the way to the end."

Beautiful things always lift your spirits, and beautiful people even more so.

Xiao Lancui smiled. "Thank you."

The history section on the second floor was quiet. Xiao Lancui quickly found the dedicated history book for Dali, called *The Complete History of Dali*.

Xiao Lancui stood in front of the bookshelf, flipping to the table of contents and scanning it carefully. On the third page, he found the temple name of Lu Ao's father, Emperor Chengzong of the Li dynasty.

Xiao Lancui had died young, so he didn't know Lu Ao's temple name. The next emperor after Emperor Chengzong was naturally Lu Ao. His eyes moved down, and when he saw Emperor Yingzong of Li, Xiao Lancui's brows knitted slightly.

Usually, only emperors who died young got the temple name Yingzong. Xiao Lancui flipped through the book faster, going straight to page 21. When he read the first line, a rare flash of anger crossed his face, and then he started coughing hard. A vivid flush spread across his pale face.

The familiar rusty taste rose from his throat. Xiao Lancui's trembling hand fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of tissues.

His skin was thin and sensitive, and he was used to silk handkerchiefs, but his current situation didn't allow it. When he left the hospital, he'd bought a pack of baby lotion tissues at the convenience store downstairs.

Xiao Lancui was rarely this clumsy, his trembling hand grabbing who knows how many tissues to cover his mouth. A few drops of bright red blood had already soaked through the thin, soft tissue.

It was a lingering effect of this body's drowning, but also because Xiao Lancui was genuinely furious.

Emperor Yingzong hadn't just died young—he'd died at twenty-eight. A year after his death, Lu Ao had also died, and—his posthumous title was "Li," a derogatory title reserved for tyrants who killed the innocent and overtaxed the people.

So the historical records said Emperor Yingzong was also known as Emperor Li Yingzong. In the Dali dynasty's three hundred-plus years of history, he was the worst tyrant of all. He'd even buried historians alive and destroyed all the dynasty's historical records, leaving only the infamous temple name of Emperor Yingzong to stink for all eternity.

Xiao Lancui was so angry he felt stabbing pains. The thick, bloody taste rising in his throat was forced back down. He set down the book, supporting himself with one hand on the bookshelf, barely managing to stand as he tried to calm himself.

He truly hadn't expected that the emperor he had personally taught, the one he believed would lead Dali to an era of prosperity, would become a notorious tyrant.

And he had only lived to twenty-eight.

When he was executed by Lu Ao's order, he had felt regret and melancholy, but he had also understood Lu Ao.

Since ancient times, when the birds are gone, the bow is put away. An ambitious, accomplished emperor—a thousand miles of rivers and mountains built on white bones and blood. Xiao Lancui had even felt gratified that Lu Ao was ruthless and decisive enough. That was the student he had raised.

But Lu Ao had become a short-lived tyrant!

Xiao Lancui couldn't suppress the violent coughing, his frail body barely able to stay upright. If Lu Ao were to appear before him right now, he would not hesitate to slap him across the face.

Xiao Lancui had only ever struck Lu Ao once. That was the month after the new emperor ascended the throne, when the Ministry of Rites submitted the list of candidates for empress.

Establishing an empress was extremely important for a young emperor with a shallow foundation—it stabilized the court and reassured the people.

For this, Xiao Lancui had personally vetted and selected three women of both good family background and character for Lu Ao.

But Lu Ao didn't even glance at them. He casually tossed the list into the brazier.

The fine sandalwood transported from the deep mountains had a distinctive fragrance. The blue-green flames consumed the memorial, quickly reducing it to ashes.

"Teacher, you know who I want." Lu Ao bent down, reaching a hand toward Xiao Lancui. "I only want—"

*Crack.*

A crisp sound rang out as Xiao Lancui raised his hand and struck Lu Ao's face aside, saying in a low voice, "Your Majesty, please show some restraint."

His gaze swept briefly over the delicate-looking eunuch standing nearby with his head lowered.

That was a military doctor from an enemy state, captured by Lu Ao during his first campaign. After being castrated, he was kept by Lu Ao's side as a personal eunuch.

Countless rumors had reached Xiao Lancui's ears—that Lu Ao didn't favor women but preferred men, that the eunuch served him during the day and climbed into his bed at night.

Xiao Lancui was strict with Lu Ao. After several days of careful consideration, he unexpectedly chose to tacitly allow it.

Unlike Xiao Lancui himself, who was disabled, Lu Ao was growing up and had his own needs. As long as it didn't interfere with important matters, Xiao Lancui was willing to indulge him this once.

But Lu Ao grew increasingly unrestrained. After ascending the throne, he refused to establish an empress for the sake of a man, turning his back on the empire. This was something Xiao Lancui could not permit.

He made a deal with Lu Ao.

"Your Majesty's marriage can be postponed for now." He looked at the eunuch, whose head hung even lower. "Him, I will take away."

That slap had been delivered with full force. Lu Ao's face showed almost no mark, but Xiao Lancui's palm was red. He lowered his eyes and coughed several times.

Lu Ao crouched down, taking his hand, and said humbly, "Teacher, don't be angry. I'll be obedient."

...

In the library's history section, someone noticed Xiao Lancui's distress and hurried over to support him, asking, "Do you need help?"

Xiao Lancui glanced indifferently at the newcomer—a young man. His gaze was extremely cold and detached. The young man's face instantly flushed red. Flustered and at a loss, he looked at Xiao Lancui and quickly withdrew his hand, apologizing, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch—"

The young man stole another quick glance at Xiao Lancui. He knew the other was a man, and his own orientation was normal, yet he couldn't help feeling drawn.

Beauty is a kind of aura. The man before him had a beautiful face, but an even more beautiful temperament—an untouchable nobility that inspired reverence.

"Thank you, I'm fine." Xiao Lancui didn't look directly at the man. He took the copy of *The Complete History of Dali* and walked away.

Xiao Lancui checked out the book. As he left the library, snow was beginning to fall faintly from the sky. The city he was in was called Jingshi—the same Jingshi where he had once lived.

Lu Ao's mausoleum was about an hour's drive from the city center. With modern transportation, the subway went directly there, and it was also a tourist attraction.

As a notorious tyrant, Lu Ao had expended enormous manpower and resources to build the most lavish mausoleum of the feudal era—one of the very reasons he was reviled.

Xiao Lancui found it deeply puzzling. Lu Ao was not an emperor who indulged in pleasure. On the contrary, he lived frugally—a pack of Brown Sugar Rice Cake Sticks was enough to make him happy.

He hadn't sought luxury in life, yet in death he wanted to reside in a grand mausoleum. Even someone as wise and discerning as Xiao Lancui found it hard to fathom the mystery.

Nor was there any need to ponder it further.

Tyrant or wise ruler, at this moment he is but weathered dust of history, leaving behind only a tomb.

As for him, the name Xiao Lancui was never recorded in the annals of history.

Lu Ao hated him to the core, and Xiao Lancui knew it.

After that eunuch died of plague, Xiao Lancui, fearing Lu Ao might also contract the disease, burned the eunuch's body without letting him see it one last time. From then on, Lu Ao harbored hatred for him.

Yet Xiao Lancui never expected Lu Ao to hate him so deeply—enough to erase every trace of his existence, leaving not a single word in the history books.

His remains, too, were likely ground to ashes by Lu Ao.

Xiao Lancui closed the book, and just then the broadcast announced, "Next stop—Emperor's Mausoleum—"

Xiao Lancui stepped off at the Emperor's Mausoleum station, carrying a box of Brown Sugar Rice Cake Sticks.

Winter was the off-season for tourism in the capital, and this centuries-old imperial burial ground was even more desolate. Xiao Lancui walked the whole way without running into a single soul.

The ticket cost 25 yuan, granting access to all ten imperial tombs in the area—all ten emperors of the Dali Dynasty were buried here.

Xiao Lancui followed the signs to Lu Ao's tomb.

Calling it a tomb was a stretch; it was merely a patch of mottled, aged walls and an offering table. The actual burial site lay deep in the mountain, unexcavated to this day.

Perhaps because Lu Ao was a tyrant, or because historical paintings depicted him with a bushy beard and a potbelly—the image of a portly old man—no one had visited in a long time. The offering table stood bare, covered in a thick layer of dust. Xiao Lancui carefully wiped the surface clean, set down the brown sugar rice cakes, and for a moment, he had nothing to say.

To him, just the day before, Lu Ao had been alive and had come to bid him farewell—whether sincere or not—planning to slip out of the palace in disguise to find medicine for him.

Now he stood here, separated from Lu Ao by over five hundred years of time.

Xiao Lancui had lost his mother at birth. He had two older brothers and a younger brother, all born to other concubines, and every one of them regarded him as an enemy. He had no family. If one truly counted, Lu Ao was his only kin.

He had been both teacher and subject to Lu Ao, raising him for eight years and serving him as a minister for five—the most important years of his life were all tied to Lu Ao.

He habitually touched his left wrist, which was thin and bare.

Once, he had worn a string of deep green jade beads there, cool in summer and warm in winter. He often took arsenic, and the beads helped lower his body temperature. They were also the only heirloom left by his birth mother. He had worn them for twenty-one years. At twenty-two, while defending a city under siege, a stray arrow shattered one bead, leaving only seventeen. Later, Lu Ao had a craftsman forge a pure gold bead to replace it, and Xiao Lancui wore the beads until his death.

That string of jade beads had long since turned to dust in the river of time, along with his remains.

Nothing belonging to Xiao Lancui remained—not a single item. Only this imperial tomb stood as proof that he had once existed.

Xiao Lancui lingered quietly at the imperial mausoleum for a long while. Before the blizzard hit, he returned to the hospital.

Night had fully fallen, but half the sky was lit up red by the flashing lights of ambulances. The hospital entrance was packed with cars and people, completely jammed.

A security guard was directing traffic in the parking area and happened to glance back at Xiao Lancui. He couldn't help but share some gossip: "A rich family's villa caught fire—burned down several villas. A young master was carried out and looked like he'd already stopped breathing! Tsk, I'd say it'll be tough to save him. But rich folks' lives are precious—all the city's specialists are here."

Xiao Lancui didn't respond. He walked around the crowd and returned to his ward, where a woman in professional attire and a long classic coat had been waiting for him for a while.

From the woman's age and appearance, Xiao Lancui figured she was Madam Xiao's personal maid, Yungu.

Sure enough, the woman introduced herself: "Third Young Master, I'm Song Yun, your mother's personal maid. Madam worried the hospital meals wouldn't suit your taste, so she sent me to bring you dinner."

Obviously, everyone who needed to know had been informed of Xiao Lancui's "amnesia."

After Xiao Lancui had transmigrated into the book's world, the person who was supposed to die hadn't died, and Madam Xiao's slow poisoning had resumed.

Yungu was Madam Xiao's trusted servant, so naturally she needed to confirm Xiao Lancui had eaten the poison before leaving.

Xiao Lancui didn't dismiss her, nor would he touch the poisoned food. Using the excuse that he'd already eaten, he set the food aside and deliberately kept Yungu there chatting.

"Why hasn't Mother come to see me?" Xiao Lancui had a wistful look on his face. "Perhaps before I lost my memory, I had a personality that gave her headaches?"

Yungu was startled but quickly hid it. She realized Xiao Lancui had truly forgotten everything—even his status as an adopted son.

Yungu held no fondness for Xiao Lancui, but she bore him no ill will either. She was just an employee; Madam Xiao paid her salary, and she did her job. She had been with Madam Xiao for years and felt some loyalty, but not enough to hate Xiao Lancui along with her.

Xiao Lancui was, in fact, a rather pitiable child.

Xiao Jingli's favoritism knew no bounds, yet Xiao Lancui had never bullied others with his status. Instead, he was shy and reclusive, always staying in his room, rarely speaking to anyone. Madam Xiao ignored him, but he still showed up at her door every morning and evening to pay his respects—which made Yungu feel a bit sorry for him.

Now that Xiao Lancui had fallen into the sea and lost his memory, outsiders might shake their heads at the "accident," but those on the inside knew full well the truth behind it.

The wealthy never lacked for "accidents."

Yungu sympathized, but she wouldn't go out of her way. She only said, "Third Young Master, don't overthink. Madam was tied up with something; she'll come once she's free."

She had, without giving anything away, subtly hinted to Xiao Lancui—if he were her own flesh and blood, what could possibly keep a mother away?

Xiao Lancui smiled. "You're right." He looked out the window; the snow was falling harder. He looked away. "The snow is heavy. There's a separate caregiver's room next door. Stay the night and head back in the morning."

Yungu declined. "I still have things to attend to at home. I won't disturb your rest. The food is kept warm in the insulated box—feel free to eat whenever you're hungry."

Yungu left.

The door closed, and Xiao Lancui's smile faded slightly. He got out of bed, opened the box—it was indeed his preferred taste, light yet fragrant. Too bad it was poisoned.

He walked into the bathroom and dumped all the food into the toilet.

He pressed the flush button, and the pale blue water swirled away everything, instantly clean again.

Xiao Lancui coughed softly for a while, then carefully took his own pulse. A moment later, he left the bathroom and wrote out three prescriptions on his phone.

He rang for the nurse and said with a smile, "Sorry to bother you."

"I got a few traditional herbal remedies. Take these to the Chinese medicine physician, have them reviewed, and if all's well, fill the prescriptions and bring me three doses."