Futile Devices Scans

“She……”

Wei Fu opened his mouth blankly. A short, weak syllable escaped him before he abruptly choked on the rest, as though he had suddenly forgotten how to speak again.

His lips opened and closed uselessly, yet not a ripple stirred the air. Subconsciously, Wei Fu reached up to touch his throat.

At once, both Yu Gong Zhao Ye and Xie You Lan’s expressions changed.

“Shuchen!”

“‘Guanlang’ was the name your mother gave you……”

Jiang Feng Xun was his mother.

His mother—the one he had waited for over ten years within that old residence on Liuzhi Alley in Fengdu, Xiling.

Even though he had never once received news from either parent, Wei Fu had always clung to unrealistic hopes and fantasies. He had stubbornly believed they were living well somewhere far away, merely delayed by the hardships of the martial world. Someday, surely, they would suddenly appear covered in road dust, and then he could finally return home with them.

Then he would finally be able to prove to everyone that he had merely been fostered in Duke Zhenguo’s Manor, and was not some mute child abandoned by his parents.

But now Xie You Lan was saying that every owner of that ring had died violently…

Then what about her?

And what about Wei Huai Jun, who had wandered the martial world alongside her?

Wei Fu had once stood at death’s doorstep before, yet what now gripped his throat was not merely fear of death. Countless words clogged the narrow passage of his airway, but he was like a tightly tied sack—unable to squeeze out even a single word.

Am I going to be abandoned again?

“Xiao Guan!”

A stream of warmth suddenly surged into him from behind his heart. Sensation returned to his nearly frozen hands beneath a firm grasp. Warmth, gentle yet unquestionable, spread through his stiffened limbs and bones like an invisible net cast wide, steadily catching his crumbling sanity before it could collapse.

Yu Gong Zhao Ye tightly gripped his icy hand, pressing his palm against Wei Fu’s back. True qi flowed to protect his heart meridian, preventing his violently fluctuating emotions from injuring him further.

In a low voice, he reminded him:

“Calm your mind and steady your spirit. Don’t rush. Speak slowly.”

Again and again, the person who always reached out to pull him back had extended his hand to him once more.

Wei Fu’s eyes trembled as he dazedly looked toward Yu Gong Zhao Ye, just like so many years ago in the dark underground caverns, in stone caves and mountain wildernesses—whether sunny or rainy, bright or dim—when he had secretly watched the silent youth countless times.

This is my moon.

His fingers, rigid to the point of numbness, slowly curled as sensation gradually returned. He tried hard to clasp Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s hand in return, though in truth it resembled someone utterly exhausted merely closing his palm weakly around him.

Cough! Cough cough cough cough—!

The air trapped inside his chest finally burst through his throat. Wei Fu barely managed to cover his mouth before a violent fit of coughing exploded from him. He coughed so hard it felt as though all his internal organs might come spilling out.

Such a tall man bent so severely that only the curve of his back remained visible. In the end he collapsed half-dead into Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s arm, gasping for breath for a long while, clear tear tracks staining the corners of his eyes. Anyone unaware of the situation would think he had suffered some world-shattering grievance.

Even Ying Yue was frightened by him and thoughtfully handed over a handkerchief embroidered with tiny blue flowers.

Only Xie You Lan never rose from his seat. His expression remained unreadable as he stared at the utter chaos opposite him. His face looked somewhat sullen, as though someone had stepped on his tail, yet because he was partly at fault, he could not openly lash out.

What kind of useless fools did this broken Yeguang place produce? Why was every single one of them so weak?

Emotional people were doomed to suffer emotionally. If you were soft-hearted, then go work at an orphanage raising children—why become assassins and killers?

Yet these people’s feelings were even richer than poets and singers. They practically feared others wouldn’t know exactly where their weaknesses lay.

And Wei Fu—no noble young lady acted as delicately as he did. Was a few coughs really enough reason to collapse into Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s arms? And Yu Gong Zhao Ye himself was no better. It was just a coughing fit—not damage to the lungs or heart—how had he somehow started acting like Wei Fu was dying?

At long last, Wei Fu finally stopped coughing. After drinking two cups of warm water, his voice remained hoarse as a donkey’s bray, yet he still continued mumbling at Yu Gong Zhao Ye. Xie You Lan finally reached the limits of his patience and snapped irritably:

“If you can’t handle the slightest fright, I may as well knock you unconscious and send you out directly, sparing you another ten years as a mute.”

“I’m fine, I just accidentally choked a little. How could I possibly cough myself to death?” Wei Fu rasped. “You absolutely mustn’t feel guilty. You went to that island to search for her? Cough… I’ve never seen this ring before. Are you certain?”

Xie You Lan: “……”

He composed himself as though some random fart had merely drifted through the banquet hall moments ago.

“She possessed a broken-edged sword forged from meteorite iron fallen from the heavens. It was incomparably hard and sharp, capable of cutting through any blade. This ring comes from the same material source. It is exceedingly rare. There is no doubt it originated from her hands.”

Wei Fu fell silent. While deep in thought, he absentmindedly traced patterns back and forth across Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s palm.

Although Xie You Lan was truly awful, he genuinely possessed some foresight. The moment they entered earlier, they really should have hardened their hearts and thrown this skittish fox out immediately. Excessive indulgence inevitably led to problems.

Yu Gong Zhao Ye noticed Wei Fu had coughed so violently that even his hair had come loose, strands falling beside his temples and making him appear even more pitiful. It was difficult to scold him now. Enduring the faint itch in his palm, he skipped over the question Xie You Lan would certainly never answer—why he sought Jiang Feng Xun—and instead asked directly:

“Palace Master Xie still hasn’t answered my earlier question. Even if you refuse to use Beizhu Palace’s people, there are countless others willing to work for you. What exactly is it about Yeguang that interests you so much that you insist on dragging us along?”

“Didn’t I already say? The woman who emerged from that island was the source of the strange plague.”

Faced with someone as upright as Yu Gong Zhao Ye, Xie You Lan rediscovered the familiar pleasure of being wicked.

“It’s said that during the war between Longsha and Yan Yuan years ago, Yan Yuan once spread plague throughout Zhoujin City by poisoning the water supply. Later, when retreating, they intended to repeat the same massacre across every city they occupied along the way. But Yeguang—no, at the time it was still called Bihua—managed to stop them in time.”

Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s expression did not change. In fact, while soothing the dejected fox spirit drooping beside him, his hand beneath the sleeve continued gently rubbing Wei Fu’s tiger’s mouth. Yet when he heard Xie You Lan casually say “it’s said,” he merely lifted his eyes slightly, pale irises locking onto him.

Completely opposite from Wei Fu’s energetic, socially dazzling nature—which eagerly sampled the flavor of everyone regardless of acquaintance—Yu Gong Zhao Ye loved quietness. He possessed almost no worldly desires and avoided unnecessary socializing whenever possible. Unless on missions, he generally remained secluded, preferring to meditate in the mountains rather than interact with others.

But he resembled a slumbering beast. Once he opened his eyes and truly began calculating, he did so with the intent to tear prey apart.

Back in Fengdu, when discussing the Ten Aspects Sect with Mu Heng, Yu Gong Zhao Ye had only spoken of Yan Yuan’s ambitions and actions. He had never revealed Longsha’s internal countermeasures, precisely because they were secret life-saving methods hidden at the bottom of the chest. Yet now Xie You Lan had lightly exposed them with a casual “it’s said.”

No matter how influential Beizhu Palace might be, it still belonged to the realm of “martial world rabble.” It was unsurprising that Xie You Lan could guess his identity and know Bihua had become Yeguang. But Longsha’s near-outbreak of a massive plague had been handled with extreme secrecy. At the time, Kui Yue had still been back home gnawing on radish leaves, so she could not have confessed it. Nor had Xie You Lan possessed enough time to investigate after capturing her.

That meant he had already known the entire story years ago.

Why would a martial sect from Dongyu suddenly concern itself with Longsha’s affairs?

Xie You Lan’s tendency to become overly excited around crowds differed from his younger brother’s. His version focused primarily on the “crazy” part. Beneath Yu Gong Zhao Ye’s murderous stare, his smile only deepened.

“Don’t forget—the opposite shore of that lake belongs to Yan Yuan territory. I assume that over the years, you people never stopped researching ways to deal with Yan Yuan. Aside from Yeguang, who else could guarantee I return from that island with all my limbs intact?”

“It’s rare for me to answer questions so honestly. I’ve displayed more than enough sincerity. Whether this succeeds or fails, Your Highness had best give me an answer quickly.”

Having scattered enough bait, he leisurely rose to his feet.

“Three days from now, same place. If Your Highness is willing to assist wholeheartedly, we depart immediately. But if Your Highness refuses to board this ship…”

Xie You Lan glanced at Wei Fu and let out a strange, ambiguous sneer before pushing open the door and leaving.

Ying Yue: “？”

Wei Fu: “？”

Yu Gong Zhao Ye: “Who exactly was he threatening just now?”

By the time they exited Yinhe Tower, the sky had fully darkened. Seeing the two still had matters to discuss, Ying Yue tactfully withdrew first to wait beside the carriage.

Yu Gong Zhao Ye carried many suspicions, but there was no time to ask them now. He gave brief instructions instead:

“I’m returning to Yeguang Hall to discuss countermeasures. This matter is too important—it must receive the Sovereign’s approval. I can’t accompany you tonight for now. We’ll make it up later, I—”

“I’m going with you.”

Yu Gong Zhao Ye assumed he was merely acting spoiled.

“Even as Assistant Chancellor, you can’t be this blatant. If the Sovereign discovers us, we’re both finished. Understand? Go back early and rest.”

“Your Highness,” Wei Fu said seriously, “I mean I’m going with all of you to that island.”

Yu Gong Zhao Ye: “……”

He took a deep breath. Before he could begin scolding him, Wei Fu hurriedly continued:

“Your Highness, my parents have been missing for nearly twenty years. I’ve finally found a clue. Even if it means crossing mountains of blades and seas of fire, I have to go. Whether they’re alive or dead… there must at least be an answer.”

“Xie You Lan cannot even produce the original sword as evidence. Based solely on a ring of uncertain origin, he concludes it belonged to your mother. Don’t you think that’s far too flimsy?” Yu Gong Zhao Ye patiently argued through the logic while suppressing his temper. “And while meteorite iron is rare, it isn’t the only piece beneath heaven. You’re willing to risk your life over such ambiguous clues? If anything happens to you, your Emperor’s armies will march straight to Bihan City’s gates. How exactly am I supposed to explain that to him?”

“I can’t simply sit safely aside and wait…” Wei Fu pleaded stubbornly, suppressing the turbulent emotions inside him. “Your Highness, I’ve already waited for many years. And I received nothing.”

Carriages sped past as wavering lantern light flashed through his eyes like falling meteors.

Seeing logic alone could not persuade him, Wei Fu changed tactics and pleaded insistently:

“Xie You Lan may be awful, but he’s still my brother. My real older brother. He’s going somewhere incredibly dangerous. I can’t rest easy……”

“What about me?”

Wei Fu stared blankly.

“Huh?”

Lanterns illuminated the area as brightly as day. Both upper and lower floors blazed with light, yet Yu Gong Zhao Ye positioned himself precisely within a small patch of shadow formed between the eaves and corridor pillars.

“His life matters to you. Then what am I to you?”

Even the night wind seemed to avoid brushing against him. The faint glow of flower lanterns illuminated the dark hair trailing across his shoulders. Amid the warmth of spring night, only this small corner remained cold as frost.

Yet even with such a chilly expression, he was beautiful enough to make others want to pull him into their arms.

Wei Fu resembled a fox staring stupidly at its own reflection in water, completely bewitched and even trying to fish it out with its paws.

“Huh? Mm… does this really need competing over?”

“You care whether he lives or dies. I care whether you live or die.” Yu Gong Zhao Ye answered calmly. “I don’t care how your biological brother feels. If you still acknowledge me as your adopted elder brother, then this time you’ll obediently listen to me.”

A moment ago Wei Fu’s heart had still been fluttering wildly like deer hooves. The next instant, it nearly stopped altogether, plunging directly from romantic fantasy into brotherhood beneath the peach garden oath. He inhaled a long, shocked breath.

“What am I to you?!”

Yu Gong Zhao Ye frowned slightly, feeling that everything he said simply entered one ear and exited the other without leaving any impression whatsoever.

“In any case, you’re not going. There’s no room for discussion. Forget your real brother—even if the Jade Emperor himself descended, it still wouldn’t happen.”

“Forget the Jade Emperor!” Wei Fu collapsed entirely, grabbing hold of him with both hands. “You’re not leaving until you explain yourself clearly!”

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