Futile Devices Scans

“It’s so late—what brings Elder Brother here?”

Wei Fu opened the door to welcome Wei Xiu inside, a trace of surprise in his heart, though his face wore its usual generous smile. “Please sit first, Brother. I’ll have someone prepare a pot of hot tea.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Wei Xiu raised a hand in a faint gesture to stop him, withdrawing it before it could touch him. “I only came to check on you—just a few words, then I’ll leave.”

 Wei Fu blinked, putting on an expression of drowsy attentiveness. “Mm?”

Wei Xiu said, “Such a major incident happened today, and then suddenly an imperial decree arrived saying you’ll be going to Longsha as an envoy for three years. The entire family was taken aback.”

Seeing that he was still speaking in a business-like tone, Wei Fu relaxed slightly and replied gently, “Everything happened so suddenly—I was summoned into the palace amid the chaos and only had time to send word home through the coachman. It’s my fault for not explaining clearly and causing Elder Brother and Uncle to worry.”

Wei Xiu shook his head. “Those are minor matters. As long as you’re safe, that’s what counts.”

Wei Fu smiled. “Thank you for your concern, Elder Brother.”

The two brothers were not particularly close. In public, they could at least maintain the appearance of fraternal harmony, but in private, once the polite exchanges were exhausted, there was little left to say.

Wei Xiu fell silent first, his gaze drifting aimlessly toward the windowsill, yet he made no move to leave. Wei Fu couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him today was off. When they were younger, Wei Xiu had not thought much of him, speaking to him with the same condescension reserved for a prince. Later, he had deliberately distanced himself for a long time, never approaching him unless absolutely necessary.

And now, he radiated an unmistakable air of “having something to say,” yet seemed held back by some hesitation, unable to speak.

Was he here to relay instructions from the elders? Or to discuss travel arrangements—expenses, attendants, preparations? Surely it couldn’t be that, with their separation imminent, Wei Xiu had suddenly been possessed and wished to rekindle their long-faded brotherly bond?

While Wei Fu was lost in these idle speculations, Wei Xiu finally seemed unable to bear the silence and spoke stiffly, “I heard from Father that it was you who insisted on requesting from His Majesty to go to Longsha.”

“Mm.” Wei Fu nodded.

“Why?” Wei Xiu’s expression was as if he had eaten something spoiled, the faintly disdainful suspicion in his eyes enough to make one’s fists itch. “You’re doing well as a Gentleman of the Western Secretariat. Your future is bright. Even if you want to build experience, there’s no need to travel thousands of miles to Longsha. Besides, isn’t His Majesty…”

Wei Fu: “Isn’t what?”

Wei Xiu glared at him, then forced out through clenched teeth, “Doesn’t he favor you especially, out of past companionship and affection?”

Wei Fu: “……”

After nearly twenty years in this household, it was the first time Wei Fu realized that the heir to the Duke Zhenguo might actually be an utter fool.

“Brother, please never say such things again,” Wei Fu said with a helpless, wry smile. “You’ve misplaced both His Majesty’s position and mine. Leaving aside the importance of the Longsha mission, even if His Majesty sent me to the frontier to drink the wind, it would still be receiving imperial grace. In the end, when the Son of Heaven appoints officials, when does a subject get to pick and choose?”

“You…”

Wei Xiu was momentarily at a loss for words, whether from anger or urgency, but the words “blind loyalty” were practically written across his face. “Three years away from the capital—even if you hold great authority in Longsha, that’s still foreign soil. It cannot compare to a central post of prominence. Who knows what the political situation in the capital will be after three years? When you return, will you still have the same standing you do now?”

Wei Fu: “……”

This absurdly long day had begun with court assembly, followed by handling official duties, delivering clues to Fuyao Prefecture, a clandestine meeting with Yu Gong Zhao Ye, being attacked with thunder-fire bombs, entering the palace to discuss countermeasures, attending the palace banquet, and then a second secret meeting with Yu Gong Zhao Ye… and still it was not over. There was, unbelievably, one final trial.

What deity had he offended today, that Heaven would send this fool to torment him?

He was truly tired. “Elder Brother is right. So what now? Shall I go to His Majesty and say I cannot bear to part with my refined post, cannot bear to leave the splendor of Fengdu, and that I refuse to go? Let him send whoever he likes instead?”

Wei Xiu: “……”

Wei Fu could hardly restrain himself from speaking with biting sarcasm: “Why don’t you guess whether His Majesty would be pleased? Whether he’d think it sufficient to merely strip me of my status and reduce me to a commoner? Whether he’d kindly restrain his anger and spare my innocent kin from being implicated?”

Wei Xiu: “……”

Wei Fu feigned sudden realization. “Oh, right—since His Majesty once stayed at our residence, he must surely cherish old ties and grant leniency beyond the law, sparing the Duke Zhenguo’s household from punishment. Excellent—I’ll go tell him so tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Wei Xiu slammed the table and shot to his feet, shouting in anger. “Can’t you speak properly? Everyone outside praises you for being perceptive and tactful, yet you show courtesy to strangers while speaking to your own brother with such defiance and disrespect!”

Wei Fu merely tilted his head at the outburst, unmoved, and took a sip of tea. “Then let me ask—does that speech you just gave about loyalty to the ruler and love of the country count as ‘perceptive and tactful’?”

Wei Xiu snapped, “Ungrateful! I spoke those words for your sake, yet in your eyes everything I do is meant to harm you. Since you refuse to appreciate it, I won’t make a fool of myself any longer. Take advantage of their indulgence and do as you please—but don’t regret it later!”

“‘They’?” Wei Fu asked coldly. “‘They’ who?”

Caught in his own wording, Wei Xiu’s momentum faltered, but with the façade already torn away, he no longer bothered to hide it. His expression darkened. “Grandfather favors you, His Majesty favors you—haven’t the two of you already arranged this Longsha mission? Not a whisper reached the family; everything was kept tightly concealed. What—do you really think you’ve already established your own household? The Duke’s residence has always treated you well—when have you ever truly regarded us?”

 Wei Fu’s parents had long been missing, and as a child he had been mute, unable to speak. Naturally, Wei Xiu had never taken him seriously. Who could have expected that Wei Fu would grow into the most accomplished of the Wei family’s younger generation, even overshadowing Wei Xiu himself, the legitimate eldest grandson of the main branch? Outside, Wei Xiu had endured countless insinuations and probing remarks from others. Certain thoughts had lingered in his mind for so long that they had sunk deep into his very bones like poisoned thorns.

Wei Fu should have been furious. Instead, he stared at him in silence for a moment—then suddenly smiled. Under the dim night lamp, the smile carried an almost unsettling edge. Wei Xiu instinctively stepped back half a pace. “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m laughing at how some people, when arguing, end up revealing their true thoughts,” Wei Fu said leisurely, a trace of amusement at his lips. “‘Speaking without thinking’ is often nothing more than ‘carefully premeditated’. Brother, I know exactly what you want to hear.”

“You think the mission to Longsha is a thankless burden, that I’m taking a loss by giving up my post in the Western Secretariat. You came here to lecture me, hoping to see me weeping in regret, didn’t you?” His well-shaped lips parted, and the words that followed were light yet razor-sharp, as cutting as a crisp slap across the face. “But that is my official position—not yours, Brother.”

Wei Xiu’s face flushed red and then pale in rapid succession, a spectacle of shifting colors. His lips trembled with anger as he glared at Wei Fu with naked hostility.

“You think I’ve reached this point because Grandfather favors me, because His Majesty, out of old affection, deliberately elevates me. You think I don’t deserve such favor—and you fear that once I leave, the Duke Zhenguo’s household will lose that favor.” Wei Fu let out a faint, derisive laugh. “We are brothers, rising from the same ancestral grave, nourished by the same incense smoke—how is it that it drifts only toward me and not toward you? Perhaps, once in a while, you should consider whether the problem lies with yourself.”

“You cannot covet the favor others earned with their lives while shrinking under the eaves yourself, unwilling to face even a drop of wind or rain—then loudly preach that doctrine of ‘preserving oneself wisely’, all the while sneering at those who dare to step forward.”

Wei Xiu no longer wished to listen.

He had the urge to swing his arm and slap Wei Fu hard across the face, to teach him what it meant to respect seniority. But Wei Fu merely cast him a calm sideways glance, his gaze clear and composed. “If you have something to say, say it properly—don’t always think of using force. You wouldn’t win anyway,” he said unhurriedly. “Besides, I haven’t left yet. If I take this matter all the way to the South Gate of Heaven—you can guess whom he’ll side with.”

 Wei Xiu’s raised arm seemed to lose all strength at once, dropping limply to his side.

“Oh, right. I just resolved an urgent matter for His Majesty, and with today’s assassination attempt, who knows if someone might be secretly watching the Duke Zhenguo’s residence? Should I call out and see if I can summon a couple of Egret Guards?”

Wei Fu watched with satisfaction as realization dawned on Wei Xiu, draining the color from his face. Then he delivered the final blow:

“There’s one thing you got right—I was meant to go to Longsha all along. His Majesty knows, and Grandfather knows.”

“After all, I’m going to find that benefactor who once saved my life, so there was no need to tell you.”

Wei Fu smiled faintly, offering what sounded like gentle consolation. “As for the others not telling you—perhaps they were afraid you’d feel guilty. It seems you still haven’t let that matter go. Otherwise, in your haste, you wouldn’t have revealed your true thoughts. I never knew you viewed your younger brother that way.”

The very “understanding and considerate” tone Wei Xiu had wanted now thoroughly disgusted him. The door slammed with a thunderous bang as he stormed out. Wei Fu remained seated with composed dignity, not even turning his head. He let out a soft scoff and casually poured out the cold tea left in his cup.

He could not truly say he hated Wei Xiu—at most, it was a matter of “walking different paths, unable to make common plans”. In his youth, he had merely disliked certain aspects of Wei Xiu’s behavior; only after growing older did he realize that what he felt was contempt.

What Wei Fu found most intolerable was how Wei Xiu, whenever he made a mistake in the past, would adopt the posture of “I already feel deeply guilty.” Thereafter, no matter how trivial the dispute, the moment Wei Fu criticized him even slightly, Wei Xiu would immediately retort with, “In your eyes, whatever I do is wrong.”

Someone more thin-skinned might have been manipulated by such tactics of retreating in order to advance, but Wei Fu was no easy target. Wei Xiu had tried time and again to control him and had never succeeded. Now that years of resentment had erupted all at once, laying everything bare might not be a bad thing—it would at least prevent Wei Xiu from thinking he had been fooling everyone all these years.

He stretched lazily, catching the outer robe that slipped from his shoulders, and strolled slowly into the bedchamber, ready to end this long and exhausting day. Before he even reached the bed, his brow twitched. Suddenly suspicious, he circled the room, checking every corner, making sure Yu Gong Zhao Ye had truly left and would not suddenly appear from some hidden nook to startle him.

Wei Fu flung himself onto the soft brocade bedding and let out a long breath. His bones ached faintly—it must have been from being blasted and thrown earlier in the day. The back of his head in particular felt swollen, as though a lump had formed…

He examined the sensation carefully, then sat up, having felt something hard beneath him. Touching his head, he found it still smooth and uninjured. Turning, he saw that at some point an object had appeared on his pillow: a flat, silver round box engraved with lotus patterns. On the lid, written in ink, were the words “Ten Dragon-Horn Iron Fan Pills.”

This was a well-known medicine among physicians, famed for treating traumatic injuries. Because one of its ingredients—dragon horn—was rare and costly, it was seldom found on the market, usually prepared privately by wealthy households as a life-saving remedy.

The aches in his body did not even qualify as “traumatic injury”—at most, they were minor bumps that would heal on their own in a few days. The kind of injury worthy of such medicine would be something like Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s condition. And yet, Yu Gong Zhao Ye had used…

The medicine Wei Fu had given him.

For a moment, Wei Fu did not know what expression to make. He abruptly pulled the brocade quilt over his head, his heart pounding wildly, the sound of it echoing loudly in his ears like thunder.

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