Sleepy

The main hall was shrouded in silence.

Little Lian’er stood trembling in the center, his frame frail and delicate, naturally invoking pity. Yet Qi Yong merely cast him an indifferent glance before shifting his gaze to the corner, where Boss Hou tried his utmost to diminish his own presence. Qi Yong narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice, “I think Boss Hou’s performance need not continue any longer.”

Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Boss Hou was forced to step forward. With a strained laugh, he stammered, “Well… ha, um… the Young Master also asked me to bring a message to you, Palace Lord.”

“What message?” Qi Yong’s tone was icy.

Boss Hou kept his head lowered, sweat pouring down, “The Young Master says that, Palace Lord, you would do well not to touch what belongs to others…”

Qi Yong’s expression grew even colder. Even Tian Qing, kneeling at his feet, darkened his face. He stole a subtle glance at Qi Yong, then suddenly rose. Before Boss Hou could react, he was struck to the ground with a single blow, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Clutching his chest, he stammered loudly, “Pal… Palace Lord… spare me…”

The members of the opera troupe huddled to one side, not daring to breathe. Qi Yong regarded them with a somber gaze. Seeing that Qi Yong offered no objection, Tian Qing raised his palm, ready to bring it down on Boss Hou’s head. Boss Hou stared at the descending hand, face ashen, shutting his eyes in despair. But at the very instant Tian Qing’s palm was about to land, a gust of wind swept in. Tian Qing started, quickly withdrawing and retreating several steps.

He looked up to see who had arrived. The newcomer wore a pale yellow robe adorned with drifting clouds, his jet-black hair gathered in a jade-green, filigreed coronet. His features were stunning, with a vermillion mark between his brows — beauty beyond compare.

He resembled Beigong Juechen, yet not entirely so. In that instant, Tian Qing understood his identity: he was Beigong Juechen’s younger brother, Young Master of “Li Manor,” famed in the martial world as the “Peerless Prince,” Beigong Qiyi.

Tian Qing could not help but study Beigong Qiyi further, unable to fathom how such a flamboyant and seemingly frail youth could have ensnared both Beigong Juechen and the Palace Lord.

Beigong Qiyi glanced nonchalantly at Boss Hou, who was drenched in sweat and collapsed on the ground, then turned to Qi Yong with a smile. “Palace Lord Qi, I’m sorry. His life or death means little to me, but I gave my word that he would leave the gates of ‘Hundred Fiends Palace’ unharmed, and I do not go back on my promises.”

Qi Yong stared at him expressionlessly, a flicker of fire burning in his light-brown eyes. He sneered, “Young Master’s promise extends only to his safe exit from the palace. What happens after he leaves is no concern of yours, is it?”

Boss Hou’s newly calmed heart leapt in terror once more. He scrambled on hands and knees to Beigong Qiyi’s side, kowtowing repeatedly, “Please, Young Master, spare my lowly life!” Beigong Qiyi did not spare him a glance. With a slight laugh, he said, “Strictly speaking, it is no concern of mine. But surely Palace Lord Qi is not so petty as to insist on killing a man of little consequence?”

Qi Yong let out a cold laugh. “I believe you know well enough what the martial world says about me. And who says he is of no consequence?”

Beigong Qiyi raised an eyebrow. “Then you must also know that I am the mastermind behind all this.”

Qi Yong slowly stood and walked over to Beigong Qiyi. Beigong Qiyi’s smile did not waver, but his hands, hidden behind his back, clenched tightly.

Suddenly, Qi Yong struck, his palm slicing through the air directly toward Beigong Qiyi’s crown. His speed was astonishing, but Beigong Qiyi had anticipated the move. He raised his left arm to block the blow and was sent flying back.

Qi Yong had used only one move. By the time Beigong Qiyi landed, Qi Yong had already seated himself again. “If I could, I would tear you limb from limb,” Qi Yong said harshly.

The smile vanished from Beigong Qiyi’s face. He stared coldly at Qi Yong before, after a moment, giving a sardonic smile, “Likewise.”

Qi Yong snorted, his tone indifferent. “Since Young Master has spoken, I will give you this courtesy. Tian Qing, see Boss Hou and the others out — properly.” There was a particular emphasis on “properly” that made Boss Hou shudder. Supported by his men, he staggered to his feet, and the group fled as though for their lives.

As they passed Beigong Qiyi, little Lian’er bit his lip, casting a glance both aggrieved and reproachful at the youth, but received not the slightest response.

The small pavilion was as cold and silent as ever.

Perhaps sensing someone’s approach, Fu Zhi slowly set down the medicine vial in his hand. His usually stern face bore the faintest hint of a smile — shallow, even somewhat stiff, but happiness nonetheless.

For the one he had been waiting for had finally come.

Beigong Juechen’s face was somewhat pale, his frame a little gaunt. Fu Zhi asked softly, “Are you alright?”

Beigong Juechen gazed at him coolly, his dark green eyes utterly devoid of emotion. “You know everything.” It should have been a question, but he uttered it with such certainty that Fu Zhi could not possibly lie.

Indeed, he had never intended to lie. He nodded silently. “Yes.”

Beigong Juechen’s expression darkened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Fu Zhi lowered his eyes, his tone detached. “Because I, too, am selfish.”

Beigong Juechen asked no further, for he already knew the answer. He turned to leave.

“I can cure you of the venom,” Fu Zhi called after him.

Beigong Juechen halted, turned back, and asked coldly, “The price?”

Fu Zhi’s eyelids trembled lightly. “Stay with me for ten days.”

Beigong Juechen regarded him expressionlessly for a long while, then nodded, “Very well.”

“Falling flowers yearn for love, but the flowing water is indifferent. Young Master’s romantic entanglements are truly many,” Qi Yong remarked, lounging against the chair, a half-smile on his lips.

Beigong Qiyi smiled faintly and replied softly, “Among the myriad streams, I drink only from one.” He looked at Qi Yong, his long, phoenix eyes fathomless. “I wonder if Palace Lord Qi knows something.”

Qi Yong raised an eyebrow but said nothing, a smile playing about his lips. Now, only the two of them remained in the hall. Beigong Qiyi spoke slowly, “My elder brother is not my true brother. He is not of the Beigong bloodline. Besides me and my brother, only you, Palace Lord, know this.”

Qi Yong shifted position, nodding indifferently. “I do know, but whether anyone else does, I cannot say.”

Beigong Qiyi looked at him directly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Then, does Palace Lord know my brother’s true identity?”

Qi Yong cast him a fleeting, inscrutable glance, replying coldly, “Why do you ask?”

Beigong Qiyi arched an eyebrow, a shadow flickering in his dark eyes. “Because I intend to cut off all future threats.”

Any threat that might take his brother away from him!

Qi Yong’s gaze grew chill. He stared at Beigong Qiyi and said coldly, “Rest assured. Beigong Juechen is an outsider, orphaned young. But do you really think, just because you can hold him for a while, you can keep him forever?”

Beigong Qiyi stood straight and slender in the center of the vast hall, his figure so delicate as to seem fragile. A strange smile played at the corner of his lips as he caressed the crimson jade pendant at his waist. With a sigh, he said, “It’s not his body I wish to confine, but his heart.”

Qi Yong narrowed his eyes. He knew, in this contest, he had lost.

Beigong Qiyi was in excellent spirits, for everything he set out to achieve had been accomplished. Now, he awaited only the final proof of his success.

Mu Min followed closely behind Beigong Qiyi, but seemed rather distracted. Watching the youth’s evident happiness, he could not help but ask, “Master, I don’t understand.”

“Hm?” Beigong Qiyi smiled. “What is it you don’t understand?”

Mu Min replied softly, “Since Master cares so much for the Manor Lord, why give him away to someone else?”

“Give him away?” Beigong Qiyi raised an eyebrow, stopping to look back at Mu Min with a half-smile. “How could I possibly give my brother away? I’m merely borrowing another’s hand to rid myself of a great trouble.”

It was afternoon, and the teahouse was sparsely populated. Beigong Qiyi sat alone at a window seat on the second floor, waiting for someone. He did not wait long, for the other party was far more anxious than he.

On the table were only a pot of wine, two small cups, and the flawless white porcelain vial he toyed with in his hand. Ran Luo, observing the bottle, asked, “Is the antidote ready?”

Beigong Qiyi nodded and set the bottle on the table, smiling. “I can only guarantee she will remember you. For the rest, I can promise nothing.”

Ran Luo smiled lightly, “So long as she remembers me, that is enough.” She reached for the vial, but just as she was about to take it, Beigong Qiyi withdrew it.

Ran Luo’s brow furrowed, her expression turning cold. “What is the meaning of this?”

Beigong Qiyi smiled and shook his head, chuckling softly. “Be at ease, Master Ran. Since I promised, I will not go back on my word. But before I give you the antidote, I have one more question.”

Ran Luo replied impatiently, “What is it?”

Beigong Qiyi’s gaze burned into her, and he asked in a low voice, “Can Master Fu Zhi break the binding curse?”

For a fleeting instant, Ran Luo’s face registered surprise, but it vanished as quickly as it came. She smiled and said, “Young Master, perhaps you’re asking the wrong person.”

Beigong Qiyi’s smile faded, his expression gradually turning grim. “Then let me change the question. Is Fu Zhi your brother?”

The smile on Ran Luo’s face slowly disappeared. She looked at Beigong Qiyi without expression. The youth’s face betrayed no emotion. Ran Luo poured herself a cup of wine and drained it in one go. Setting the cup down, she said in a low voice, “Try.”

Beigong Qiyi began to laugh softly.

He handed the antidote to Ran Luo, his smile tinged with a certain eeriness. “In that case, I must thank you both for doing me another great favor.” As the words left his lips, he was already at the stairs.

Ran Luo stared after him for a long moment before, her expression complicated, she took up the porcelain vial.

Beigong Qiyi’s smile and his words were both too strange — so strange, in fact, that she felt a sense of foreboding.

Could it be…? Clutching the vial tight, Ran Luo’s heart pounded with realization. If things were truly as she feared, then everything they had done was nothing more than paving the way for someone else!

Author’s note: I’ll be attending a comic convention the next two days, so updates may be delayed~