Futile Devices Scans

Today, Yugong Zhaoye finally learned what it meant to lift a rock only to drop it on one’s own foot, and what it meant for a chicken to talk to a duck—two people speaking completely at cross-purposes.

The reason he had not gone to see Wei Fu lately was precisely because Wei Fu was far too busy. The Minister-Regent oversaw the Cabinet, and matters great and small all required his approval. On top of that came the countless arrangements following the new king’s enthronement. Documents accumulated over a few days could be stacked as high as Wei Fu himself. Even Yugong Zhaoye, an idle prince who hovered at the edge of court politics, had been dragged out to attend five or six ceremonies. How much worse must it have been for Wei Fu, who stood at the very center of government?

Beyond official duties, Wei Fu also had to cultivate connections, untangle existing relationships, attend endless social engagements, and familiarize himself as quickly as possible with every aspect of Longsha. His energy was already far greater than that of an ordinary person, yet Yugong Zhaoye had seen him return from a banquet late at night, work by lamplight until just before dawn, sleep facedown on his desk for less than four hours, then drag himself up again and force his spirits high enough to attend morning court.

That day, Yugong Zhaoye had been the one to drape a robe over him, gather up the memorial dangling precariously from the edge of the desk, and put it safely away. Looking at the slight crease that had not entirely left Wei Fu’s brow even in sleep, he had eventually suppressed the urge to reach out and touch it.

For fear of accidentally waking him.

Of course Yugong Zhaoye knew Wei Fu wanted to see him. But whenever Yugong Zhaoye came over, Wei Fu would put aside whatever he was doing to entertain him, and the time lost could only be taken from Wei Fu’s own sleep. Rather than sit around chatting idly and offer a few harmless words of comfort, Yugong Zhaoye thought it better to let him sleep a little longer.

Who could have guessed that Wei Fu would not understand this painstaking consideration at all and would instead accumulate a towering mountain of grievance? After finally seeing Yugong Zhaoye again, his emotions smashed through all restraint, the wine turning them into a stormy outburst.

“I know there’s no use forcing anything. Anyway, your mission escorting the delegation is already complete. There’s no reason for you to keep wasting effort dealing with me…”

Wei Fu abruptly shut his mouth. Even drunk, he still retained three parts reason and managed not to continue. He turned to look out the carriage window. Regret seemed to flash through his eyes, yet once his stubbornness rose, he refused to bow his head and admit defeat so easily.

Yugong Zhaoye commanded Yeguang with the status of a royal prince. Whether in court or within Yeguang Hall, very few people dared lose their temper at him so openly. Certainly no one would have expected the famously “good-tempered” Wei Fu to do so. Yet thinking back over everything since they had met, Wei Fu was actually the person who had thrown the most little tantrums at him.

Perhaps the circumstances under which they first met had simply been too extreme. They had interacted entirely through instinct, without disguise or social courtesy, so the feelings born from that time were unusually intense and sharp. Even “liking” someone could be fierce enough to resemble throwing a string of firecrackers directly into their face.

The carriage rocked gently. Compared with the clatter of wheels and the lively crowds outside, the silence inside felt almost terrifying.

Wei Fu did not quite dare look at Yugong Zhaoye. His emotions had surged quickly and now subsided just as fast. It wasn’t that he believed his grievances were wrong; rather, he regretted accidentally damaging the considerate, understanding image he had always maintained.

Is he angry?

Does he think I went too far?

Will he… find me unbearably troublesome?

“If you shout any louder,” Yugong Zhaoye said calmly, “then by tomorrow morning the whole city will know Lord Wei got drunk in the middle of the night and tearfully demanded to know why someone hadn’t climbed over his walls. At this rate, they may have trampled your walls flat by dawn.”

Wei Fu: “…”

Not only had Yugong Zhaoye failed to become angry, even the faint irritation he had carried when they first met had been completely shouted away. Now he merely found Wei Fu’s serious indignation rather funny—and a little pitiful.

“When you were a little mute, all you knew how to do was fake-cry and draw crosses in people’s palms. Now you’ve grown up and your temper’s grown with you.” Yugong Zhaoye teased, “You’re so busy every day that you don’t even have time to sleep. How do you still have time to sit at home overthinking things?”

Wei Fu: “…How do you know I don’t have time to sleep?”

“I know everything.” Yugong Zhaoye did not admit that he had climbed over the walls of the Chancellor’s Residence. He simply reached out and tapped the dark shadows beneath Wei Fu’s eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have presumptuously assumed that, compared with seeing me, you would rather have a little peaceful rest.”

Wei Fu reacted instantly, grabbing Yugong Zhaoye’s hand before he could pull it away. An inexplicable warmth spread beneath the place he had touched. Lowering his gaze toward a corner of the little table, Wei Fu said with feigned shyness, “Your Highness could rest together with me…”

Yugong Zhaoye laughed softly and lightly scolded him without any real reproach. “Nonsense.”

Wei Fu absolutely intended to make trouble. Clinging to Yugong Zhaoye’s hand and sleeve, he shook them insistently. “Did I travel all the way to Longsha merely to handle government affairs? Your Highness kills but refuses to bury the corpse afterward. No matter whose imperial court I take this grievance before, His Majesty would have to uphold justice for me.”

Yugong Zhaoye was nearly shaken off balance. Half smiling and half exasperated, he said, “Enough, Lord Wei. What you’re describing is basically a honey trap. Over such a trivial matter, there’s no need to portray yourself as an idiot.”

Wei Fu’s palms were hot, pressed tightly against the sharp bones of Yugong Zhaoye’s wrist, slowly ironing his stubborn feelings into Yugong Zhaoye’s bloodstream. Yet his voice remained pitifully soft. “Since it’s only such a tiny matter, can Your Highness stay with me tonight?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

Wei Fu dragged out the title pleadingly. “Your Highness…”

His Highness had suddenly gone deaf.

Wei Fu rustled closer until their knees touched and whispered softly, “A’Ying…”

The two who had once depended upon each other for survival had reunited years later beneath the night sky of a foreign land.

The world had changed and scattered like drifting clouds, yet the feelings of old companions remained as before. Even if Yugong Zhaoye’s heart were forged from iron, he could not withstand such a plea in such a moment.

Xie Ying could not bear to refuse him.

To demonstrate the importance attached to the Minister-Regent, the Chancellor’s Residence had been rebuilt from an old royal estate. Only the decorations exceeding Wei Fu’s rank had been removed; the grounds remained just as vast, with elegant pavilions and exquisitely furnished halls. Unfortunately, Wei Fu had brought few attendants and no family members, leaving most of the rooms empty. Deep into the night, the estate was utterly silent and dark, making it seem especially lonely.

Whether genuinely drunk or merely pretending, Wei Fu insisted on crowding against Yugong Zhaoye the entire way home. At first Yugong Zhaoye tolerated it, nearly being shoved into the wall. Eventually he became so annoyed that he laughed and threatened to carry Wei Fu sideways into the residence. Startled, Wei Fu immediately straightened and finally learned how to hold his hand properly, tugging him all the way into the bedchamber.

Unable to tolerate the smell of alcohol on himself, Wei Fu went first to bathe and change. About half an hour later, he returned with damp, half-dried hair hanging loose behind him, only to find Yugong Zhaoye still fully dressed and seated on the couch flipping through one of his leisure books.

Despite there being plenty of empty space, Wei Fu insisted on squeezing right into his line of sight. “It’s late, Your Highness. Time to sleep.”

“Perfect timing.” Yugong Zhaoye casually pointed across the room. “The bed’s prepared for you. Sleep.”

Wei Fu hummed unhappily. “And then? Does Your Highness intend to sit here watching me all night?”

Yugong Zhaoye remained immovable and used Wei Fu’s own words against him. “I’ll go spread bedding in the woodshed next door. If you need anything, just call.”

“There’s no woodshed next door. The woodshed is in the western courtyard with an entire yard between us. Even if I screamed myself hoarse, you wouldn’t hear me.” Using the towel he had been drying his hair with to pretend to wipe away tears, Wei Fu whimpered, “What if I get thirsty in the middle of the night, or feel sick from drinking, or get a headache, or have a nightmare… and there isn’t even anyone beside me to rely on? Ah, what use are lofty beds and soft pillows then? I may as well go sleep in the woodshed with Your Highness.”

This clingy creature truly never stopped!

“With all the time you spend rambling and talking nonsense, you could already have slept for a night.” Yugong Zhaoye finally lost patience and threw down the book. “How old are you that you still need someone to accompany you while you sleep? Forget embarrassing—don’t you find it awkward?”

Wei Fu had already discovered the secret to handling him. Instead of arguing, he merely pretended to yawn and squeezed out a convincingly watery tear. “Sleep, Your Highness. I’m so sleepy.”

“…”

The assassin’s ultimate weakness proved astonishingly effective. Yugong Zhaoye closed his eyes and forcibly swallowed ten thousand sharp remarks. “Just this once. Now get over there and lie down properly.”

Wei Fu’s bed was wide enough for two people with room to spare. Yugong Zhaoye was pushed to the inner side because, according to Wei Fu, “if I get up for water during the night, I might accidentally step on you.” Yugong Zhaoye thought sourly that apparently Wei Fu no longer needed anyone looking after him now, but Wei Fu genuinely seemed exhausted beyond endurance. He pulled the blanket over both of them indiscriminately, mumbled, “So comfortable,” wrapped an arm around Yugong Zhaoye, and promptly fell into deep sleep.

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

He sighed soundlessly, feeling as though he had exhausted all the temper of his lifetime, and helplessly closed his eyes.

Beneath the starless, moonless night, some people drank themselves senseless, some slept peacefully, and someone else was currently running for her life.

Kui Yue sprinted through the forest, dodging left and right as her figure flickered unpredictably, narrowly avoiding the hidden weapons flying at her like torrential rain. Flames flickered everywhere among the trees while dozens of Beizhu Palace disciples searched with torches, shouting noisily, “Little thief, surrender at once! Every entrance at the foot of the mountain is guarded. Even if you grew wings, you still couldn’t escape Jiuyin Mountain!”

This time she really had named her price on the spot—and what she had accepted was practically money for her own life. Kui Yue had never imagined that the background of a noble young master from Fengdu like Wei Fu could involve such tangled jianghu grudges. Old events twisted together beneath layers of dust, and most terrifying of all, coiled at the end of those tangled roots was a venomous snake—

A violent gust suddenly struck from above. Kui Yue rolled across the ground, heedless of mud and fallen leaves, barely avoiding the blow. Immediately afterward came a sharp crack as the tree she had just been leaning against snapped cleanly in half.

Before she even had time to feel afraid, Kui Yue arched backward to avoid a dart flying toward her face. Using the momentum, she flipped into a crouch and drew a short sword like lightning, stabbing upward toward the enemy before her.

The strike kept its edge hidden until the final instant, so fast that neither the attack nor its trajectory could be seen, leaving no room to evade. Yet the ghostlike pursuer neither dodged nor retreated. He merely extended two fingers and caught the blade barehanded in midair. With a hard wrench, he tore the sword from her grip and sent it flying into a tree trunk behind them.

Kui Yue had never seen anyone catch a blade with bare hands like that. Shocked, she sucked in a sharp breath. Then a contemptuous laugh sounded above her. “Little mouse, is that all you can do?”

Before she could fully rise, the man swept a leg across and struck squarely at the Jianjing acupoint on her shoulder, kicking her backward through the air. Her back slammed hard into a large tree.

Kui Yue collapsed into the fallen leaves. It was already too late to flee. Five or six long blades were drawn at once and pressed against her throat, while someone swiftly bound her hands to prevent resistance. A man in black stepped forward to search her, gathered the miscellaneous objects hidden in her sleeves, and presented them to the leader for inspection.

The man slowly approached. The pale lavender hem of his robes swayed before her eyes. The stitching was meticulous, the tailoring impeccable, the cloth spotless and entirely free of wrinkles—nothing like the clothing of an ordinary Beizhu Palace disciple. Trapped inside the narrow circle of blades, Kui Yue struggled to raise her head and see clearly the opponent who had overwhelmed her so completely.

The leaping firelight illuminated half his face. Even at the brink of death, the sight distracted her for a moment.

Not only because his beauty carried a faintly wicked air that made everyone else around him seem indistinct by comparison, but because from this angle, the contours of his features looked subtly familiar.

Kui Yue knew who he was now.

“Palace Master Xie…”

Xie Youlan casually sifted through the pile of odds and ends, then accepted a sword from a subordinate. Raising her chin with the blade, he pressed the icy tip against her throat like the tongue of a snake. “Who sent you? Why were you skulking around Beizhu Palace asking about Jiang Fengxun?”

Kui Yue’s thoughts raced. “No one sent me! I merely heard rumors in the jianghu and came out of curiosity to investigate. I absolutely meant no offense. If I’ve offended Palace Master Xie, I can apologize. It’s all a misunderstanding…”

“All lies.”

Xie Youlan interrupted her calmly. “I already gave you the chance to confess honestly. Since you insist on seeking death, I’ll grant your wish.”

“Whatever you discovered, whatever storm you hoped to stir up, you can explain it slowly to the King of Hell below.”

The blade bit into flesh, bringing a sharp stab of pain. Xie Youlan attacked with unmistakable killing intent, refusing to give her another chance to defend herself. He intended to kill her on the spot.

Sword-light and blood flashed before her eyes. Kui Yue felt only coldness at the side of her neck as despair instantly swallowed her. On the brink of death, her mind went completely blank. Pure instinct drove her to seek help, and she whispered hoarsely: “Brother!”

The sound was weak and frightened, thick with sobs—yet it successfully stopped Xie Youlan’s descending blade.