Chapter 262: A Favor (Part 3)

Xiang Zhi narrowed his eyes and said sourly, "Surveillance Commissioner Wen Ren is currently in such high favor with His Majesty that it's only natural he wouldn't remember someone like me."

Hua Rong felt his head start to spin upon hearing this.

Today, in the early Shen hour (around 3 PM), the Seventh Prince had arrived, saying he would wait for the master to finish his duties at the yamen.

Hua Rong had sent He Qingsong to the Censorate early to pick up the master, but about half an hour after the office let out, He Qingsong returned with the empty carriage, saying he had waited for a long time without seeing him. Only upon asking did he learn that the master had gone to the Court of Judicial Review on official business and had not yet returned. Fearing the prince would be kept waiting too long, He Qingsong had no choice but to return first to report.

Upon learning of this, Xiang Zhi said with his mouth, "No need to rush him," but as time passed, his face grew darker by the minute.

About fifteen minutes before the master returned, Hua Rong clearly saw him gritting his teeth, as if he were gearing up to take a bite out of their master.

Hua Rong was on edge, worried the master might get bitten.

Yet their master seemed utterly oblivious to this. He walked forward, unfolded his folding fan, and swished it slowly twice. After a moment of savoring the scent, he affirmed, "Mm, the real deal Ninghua aged vinegar smell."

Xiang Zhi opened his mouth to curse: "You..."

You got a pig's nose or what?

He had deliberately doused himself today with the Western perfume his mother had given him—a rare import from France, the crystal bottle itself custom-made by a master craftsman.

Not only had he waited until the scent on his clothes had completely faded, but he was now being called...

The words were on the tip of his tongue when Xiang Zhi belatedly caught the sarcasm in his words. His face flushed red: "Nonsense! You went to the Court of Judicial Review on business—why would I be jealous?! Am I supposed to be jealous of the two stone lions in front of the Court? Or jealous of Zhang Yuanye? What a ridiculous notion!"

Le Wuya, taking advantage of his bristling, smoothly steered him inside: "Since you're not jealous, then let's have a feast."

He turned his head and asked, "Hua Rong, is the guest dinner ready?"

Hua Rong, sensing the atmosphere had eased, cleverly raised his voice: "The two sisters-in-law have long since prepared everything. I'll go bring it out now!"

Ever since that time he accidentally passed the wrong information to the Fifth Prince, the hidden agent named "Lin An" had evaporated without a trace from the household.

The Fifth Prince was, after all, considerate of his servants and quickly deduced that this pawn had likely blown his cover.

As he saw it, Wen Ren Yue was probably busy investigating cases and had no time to handle "Lin An" for now. But once he freed up his hands, he'd inevitably come back to settle the score.

If that happened, not only would it expose his own spying on court officials, but it would also doom "Lin An."

Although "Lin An's" identity was fabricated, the slave contract bearing the false name was still clutched in Wen Ren Yue's hands, and Wen Ren Yue had plenty of ways and means to make his life hell.

So the Fifth Prince hastily recalled him before Le Wuya could strike, sending "Lin An" to a country estate to lie low.

This was exactly what Le Wuya wanted.

He had made a special trip to Yingtian Prefecture to file a report registering "Lin An" as a runaway slave. Then, under the guise of "a treacherous slave fleeing and purging the household," he made a great show of turning the whole house upside down.

By the time he had battened down the hatches, the residence was as solid as a fortress inside and out—a safe haven where one could speak and discuss matters freely.

By now, Xiang Zhi had long been pacified, and he was still all talk as he took his seat: "How dare you! You kept me waiting this long."

Le Wuya asked in surprise, "Your Highness didn't send anyone to the Court of Judicial Review to send word. How was I to know you had graced my humble abode?"

Xiang Zhi countered, "If I don't summon you, you won't come back? You just leave me hanging?"

...Le Wuya figured the guy just needed a good beating.

Dishes came streaming in one after another.

The Seventh Prince and Le Wuya had moved in the same circles before, and Hua Rong had the Seventh Prince's tastes down pat, having specifically instructed the two sisters-in-law to prepare accordingly.

Still, he couldn't help worrying—the Seventh Prince was accustomed to the finest delicacies; would he deign to appreciate these common market ingredients?

If the Seventh Prince found the food not to his liking and started quarreling with the master, throwing and smashing things in the process, Hua Rong would be heartbroken.

This place was not like Nanting. Every blade of grass, every tree, every object and vessel in this home had been acquired piece by piece through their own efforts, and many were old belongings brought from Nanting.

Moreover, prices in the capital were exorbitant.

Fortunately, Xiang Zhi was ravenous and made no fuss, picking up his chopsticks and digging in with gusto.

Hua Rong felt considerably reassured and withdrew at Le Wuya's signal.

Having appeased his stomach, Xiang Zhi's anger had also subsided considerably.

Looking up by chance, he noticed that Le Wuya had barely touched his chopsticks, instead staring at him in a daze.

"...Why aren't you eating?"

Le Wuya raised his eyes from the man's luxurious clothing: "I had a bite outside earlier. Not hungry."

With that, he crossed his arms and leaned back: "Why didn't I see the Seventh Prince at court today?"

"I've always been a brick—wherever others move me, there I go. Lately I've had no assignments, so why would I attend court?" Xiang Zhi said with biting sarcasm. "Do you take me for Xiang Xiaoliu, able to win Father's affection and train in the Six Ministries?"

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow: "...You came here to ask why Xiaoliu was demoted from the Ministry of Revenue to the Ministry of Works, didn't you?"

Xiang Zhi set his chopsticks down with a sharp *clack* against the bowl's rim: "...You really do love to joke! I—"

Le Wuya commanded calmly: "Eyes. Look at me."

Xiang Zhi instinctively looked at him, yet felt an inexplicable pang of guilt.

Le Wuya hummed: "Yes, that's it. You came to ask about this."

"I've been in the capital for a long time, and you've never once visited. I can guess the reason—you were avoiding suspicion, afraid that with the favor of two current princes, I'd be too conspicuous, too much in the spotlight—don't look away—but the first time you step through my door, it's for him."

Le Wuya observed his expression and nodded: "Yes, I guessed right again."

Xiang Zhi was dumbfounded, a hint of crimson rapidly climbing from his collar to his face.

After a long moment, he snapped back to his senses and fumed: "Nonsense! It was my mother who heard of his misfortune and insisted I come ask for clarification! You're the one closest to him now—if not you, who am I supposed to ask?"

Le Wuya leaned closer: "Look at me."

Xiang Zhi glared back, cheeks puffed with indignation.

"Mm, that sentence was true." Le Wuya nodded, then asked, "But don't you care?"

Xiang Zhi insisted stubbornly: "He's met with misfortune—of course I care."

Le Wuya flashed a brilliant smile: "Liar."

Xiang Zhi: "..."

He pushed his bowl and chopsticks forward.

Le Wuya: "Full?"

"Too angry to eat."

Le Wuya kept needling him, completely unbothered: "Mm, that's true too."

"Le..." The words caught in his throat as Xiang Zhishi forced them back down, his fists clenched tightly in his sleeves. "Don't overstep!"

Le Wuya sat up straight: "That's bold of you. Call me Teacher."

Xiang Zhishi fumed: "Whose teacher are you? You're Xiang Xiaoliu's teacher! He's your actual student! I'm the adopted one!"

Le Wuya said calmly: "Once a teacher, always a father figure. So that makes me your dad now, right?"

Xiang Zhishi: "..."

The higher his rank got, the more he went back to his old ways!

Absolutely maddening!

And yet...

A slight flush spread across his face.

...Kind of cute.

While he was caught in this inner battle, Le Wuya crooked a finger at him: "Your birth father won't give you work—how about your adoptive dad gives you a job to do?"

Xiang Zhishi narrowed his long, elegant eyes: "What are you up to?"

"Relax, I'm not going to make this hard for you." Le Wuya smiled, resting his chin on his hand. "I hear the Fifth Prince got married five years ago, and took two concubines three years ago, and they've had a son and a daughter in those five years. That's all I know. Consort Xi has been in the palace a long time—she's bound to have the best intel on the imperial family's women. I want to know everything about them—the more detail, the better."

With that, his gaze darted briefly to the pearl earring on Xiang Zhishi's right ear.

Xiang Zhishi, however, was deeply startled, leaping to his feet: "So you really are helping Sixth Brother, then—"

He met Le Wuya's eyes, and his expression darkened. His chest heaved violently, and his voice grew hoarse, like he was furious: "What makes you think I'd help you? Or Xiang Xiaoliu? Aren't you scared I'll run straight to Fifth Brother and rat you out?"

"Go ahead, be my guest." Le Wuya remained composed. "Go ahead and tell him I'm looking into his family. The Fifth Prince is not my student, and I don't owe him anything to begin with."

Le Wuya twirled a lock of hair by his temple, saying casually: "Besides, to be quite honest... I don't think he's worth my time."

Xiang Zhishi's pupils narrowed sharply.

He understood.

The one Le Wuya was really aiming at wasn't Xiang Zhiyun—who'd been worn down into near-weakness and timidity—but the Emperor himself in Zhaoming Hall!

Xiang Zhishi had often joined Consort Xi in privately badmouthing Xiang Zheng.

But now, hearing Le Wuya openly talk about seizing the throne and scheming, the first thing he felt was sheer panic: "How dare you!"

Le Wuya gazed at him in silence.

The mess of the Xiang imperial family—those inside it are lost in the fog, but outsiders see everything clearly.

Among his mediocre brothers, Xiang Zheng stood head and shoulders above the rest, peerless and unrivaled.

He'd taken that throne without breaking a sweat.

All his brothers willingly prostrated themselves at his feet, shouting "Long live the Emperor."

He clearly loved it that way.

To a man like him, "brothers" are just background props, servants meant to bow and scrape—never real family.

He spoke of "loyalty, righteousness, filial piety, and fraternal love" when making demands of his kids, yet for him, only "loyalty" and "filial piety" truly mattered, because they served his own interests.

The rest were just tools, picked up when useful.

Therefore, when Xiang Zhiyun called out Xiang Zhijie for sending Jiang He to seize the painting in broad daylight, it struck at Xiang Zheng's interests and embarrassed him—so he slapped the label of "unfraternal" on Xiang Zhiyun.

Yet if Xiang Zhiyun were to truly act with fraternal love toward Xiang Zhijie, Xiang Zheng would likely think he was weak and wishy-washy instead.

After all, why should the blazing sun concern itself with fireflies, or the bright moon care about specks of dust?

That would be lowering himself.

Xiang Zhijie and Xiang Zhishi were supposed to be the closest of twins.

But simply because Xiang Zheng didn't like the idea of twins, he casually plucked one away, and over the decades, he slowly turned them into two people from different worlds.

What did Xiang Zhishi see when he looked around?

Imperial Consort Zhuang remained cold and indifferent toward the Emperor, bearing not a single child, yet her position as Imperial Consort hadn't budged in decades.

Consort Xi played the coquette, still working hard to win the Emperor's favor to this day. She had lost one child, then given birth to a pair of healthy twins—Xiang Zhijie and Xiang Zhishi—which was seen as an auspicious omen for Dayu. Yet she'd never been promoted past the rank of Consort.

The Imperial Consort received an annual stipend of eight hundred taels of silver and could designate three special dishes from the imperial kitchen.

The Consort's stipend was three hundred taels, and she could order a special dish only once a month.

Xiang Zhijie, registered under the Imperial Consort's name, gained the capital to advance further and contend for the position of Crown Prince.

Xiang Zhishi could only hold onto his family fortune, at best becoming a rich, idle prince.

A mix of envy, jealousy, and blood-bound kinship brewed Xiang Zhishi's complicated feelings toward Xiang Zhijie.

At the end of the day, the Emperor used an open scheme—a trick to pit them against each other, for people fear unfairness more than lack.

So on the surface, all of Xiang Zhishi's hatred was aimed at Xiang Zhijie.

Over the years, he'd gotten into the habit of needling Xiang Zhijie—he couldn't feel right unless he got a few digs in.

But Le Wuya knew that Xiang Zhishi was also a good kid, deep down.

He had a vague sense of who was pulling the strings, who was causing all the trouble.

But to keep hating Xiang Zhijie, he had to fight for scraps of the Emperor's attention, fawning over the very person he knew was behind it all.

So he was always impulsive, hot-headed, and sarcastic.

He wasn't happy.

And those bitter jealousies, hatred, envy, and resentment kept wrestling with the blood-bound love of family.

For all these years, it had been a stalemate.

Xiang Zhishi lost the last of his appetite. He stood up and headed for the door.

Le Wuya called out to him from behind, "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

In response, something came hurtling through the air at him.

Le Wuya raised his hand to catch it, and upon looking down, saw it was a delicately crafted bottle of Western perfume, the glass shimmering with rainbow-like colors in the candlelight.

Le Wuya called out, "Much obliged!"

Xiang Zhi answered with a string of intentionally loud, stomping footsteps.

After sending Xiao Qi off, he slowly sat down before a table full of dishes.

This was a hurdle with Xiao Qi he'd have to cross sooner or later.

There's no time like the present.

Le Wuya could accept whatever the outcome might be.

After all, he and Xiao Qi shared a teacher-student bond, and even if Xiao Qi decided to join forces with Xiang Zhiyun, Le Wuya would deliberately avoid him to make sure he got hurt as little as possible.

But there was a more urgent matter that Le Wuya had mulled over for ages without figuring out.

He gently tapped the edge of the table with his bamboo chopsticks, his brow furrowed slightly.

Xiao Qi's charming, free-spirited manner was nothing like Xiao Liu's solemn, scholarly grace.

Xiao Qi's clothes were as extravagant as always.

Not to mention the huge pearl earring he wore today—so eye-catching that even from behind, the earring's imprint was clearly visible.

In short, Xiao Qi today showed absolutely no intention of pretending to be Xiao Liu.

So the question is...

How could I have mixed him up with someone else?

Author's note:

Yeah, why though?

So confusing. jpg