Futile Devices Scans

The climate in northern Dongyu was similar to Longsha’s. In early spring, the trees had only begun to cast green shade, mountain flowers blanketed the wilderness, and neither the wind nor the sunlight was harsh. It was perfect weather for an outing among the new greenery.

Three riders galloped down the official road. From a distance, they could already see the towering city walls and gatehouse.

Ying Yue raised his voice. “Up ahead is the Lu County seat!”

Yugong Zhaoye slowed his horse and lifted the brim of his bamboo hat with one finger. The mountain wind slipped beneath it, stirring the loose strands he had hastily failed to tie back properly that morning and scattering them untidily across his brows and temples.

After so many days of hard travel, the faint softness his features had regained while resting in Bihan City had quickly been stripped away again by wind and sun. Only a thin layer of skin seemed to cover his sharply defined bones, like frost stretched across jagged mountain rock, making his features look deeper and more cutting than ever. His eyes shone like cold stars. He looked like a handsome, weathered wanderer of the jianghu, without the slightest trace of princely nobility.

Turning to the person beside him, he asked, “Brother Xie, I arranged to meet our guide outside the city. There’s still time, so we won’t enter town to stop for food or rest. Let’s go straight to Yun Lake.”

Although Xie Youlan genuinely was older than Yugong Zhaoye, and although Yugong Zhaoye had addressed him this way throughout the journey, hearing “Brother Xie” still made Xie Youlan instinctively frown.

It always sounded as though a debt collector had arrived.

Especially when this particular man actually had something going on with his debt-collecting younger brother.

So he answered irritably, “Whatever. The sooner we arrive, the sooner this ends. You’ve been rushing us along like there’s a ghost chasing us from behind the whole way. Another moment won’t make any difference.”

Although Xie Youlan lived far from court in the jianghu, within Beizhu Palace he lived like a local emperor. Fine clothes and lavish food went without saying. Whenever he traveled, experts escorted him and servants attended him. Aside from practicing martial arts, there was almost nothing he ever needed to do personally.

Yet this time he had brought none of his own people. Traveling light alongside Yugong Zhaoye, he left food and lodging entirely to chance. Every morning he opened his eyes only to mount a horse and continue racing onward. Surprisingly, he had never once demanded they slow down or improve their accommodations. At most, when dissatisfied, he picked at a few faults, argued for the sake of arguing, and tossed out several sour remarks.

Because Xie Youlan had deceived him before—and because the two had once fought until both were badly injured—Yugong Zhaoye had initially disliked him. After spending several days together, however, his opinion had improved somewhat.

If the man did not have that mouth of his, Yugong Zhaoye thought, then just like his younger brother, he would probably be very easy to get along with.

The instant Wei Fu came to mind, a faint unease stirred in Yugong Zhaoye’s chest.

He unconsciously glanced back.

Xie Youlan caught the movement and sneered. “What are you looking for? You’ve been looking around nonstop the entire journey. Did a ghost steal your tail?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…”

Looking into those peach-blossom eyes so similar to Wei Fu’s, he said darkly, “The day we left Yinhe Tower, your younger brother said he wanted to come too.”

Xie Youlan choked.

But he refused to believe Yugong Zhaoye would simply allow Wei Fu to do whatever whim entered his head. “You didn’t stop him?”

Yugong Zhaoye replied blandly, “You know what kind of person he is, don’t you?”

Years ago, Wei Fu had barely escaped death at the Ten Aspects Sect and, instead of returning home, had brazenly gone looking for the Linghua Sect by himself, only to fall into the hands of Beizhu Palace spies. If Xie Youlan had not arrived in time to save him, Wei Fu would probably have reincarnated by now and his next life would already be old enough to attend private school.

That debt collector had catastrophically bad luck yet absurdly great courage. He specialized in causing enormous disasters without saying a word and possessed a stubborn streak that made him insist on doing things his own way.

Heaven knew which parent he had inherited that from…

Seeing that Xie Youlan had been rendered speechless, Yugong Zhaoye refused to let him off and calmly drove the knife in deeper. “This concerns the parents he’s been separated from for many years, and you’re his biological elder brother. Do you think I didn’t try to persuade him? I nearly wore my lips thin. Brother Xie, if it were you and he promised obediently to stay home, would you dare believe him?”

Xie Youlan: “…”

Yugong Zhaoye continued his merciless questioning. “Is being overly suspicious really my problem? Do you think I enjoy traveling without stopping for rest?”

Under Yugong Zhaoye’s calm yet inexplicably forceful narration, Xie Youlan suddenly seemed to see the gigantic shadow known as Wei Fu slowly rising over the horizon behind them, dragging endless trouble and endless chatter as it rolled toward them with bared fangs and claws.

“You can’t even keep track of one grown man? Yeguang is finished!” he barked at Yugong Zhaoye with hollow ferocity, then cracked his whip against his horse’s rump. “Enough nonsense. Pick up your guide and move!”

With that, he galloped ahead.

Ying Yue stared blankly at the dust thrown up by the horse’s hooves, then turned toward Yugong Zhaoye, whose face remained solemn.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Is Chancellor Wei really… that frightening? Besides, he has to show his face before His Majesty every day. If he so much as sneezes, the entire court hears about it. There’s no way he could secretly slip away.”

Yugong Zhaoye raised a brow at him in surprise. “I thought you’d understand Xie Youlan better than anyone. Is your sister easier to manage than Wei Fu?”

Ying Yue: “…”

In an instant, memories flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

Countless echoes of Kui Yue screaming “Brother—!” layered themselves inside his ears.

Ying Yue shuddered violently.

Deeply moved by this newfound sense of shared suffering, he hurriedly whipped his horse forward after Xie Youlan.

What did it mean to panic at the mere rumor of danger?

What did it mean to mistake every rustling blade of grass for an enemy?

This was exactly that.

A faint chuckle drifted from beneath Yugong Zhaoye’s bamboo hat and scattered into the gentle spring wind. He leisurely flicked his reins and urged his horse onward.

From Fengdu to Bihan City, from late autumn to early spring, he and Wei Fu had already spent almost half a year together. Yugong Zhaoye had grown accustomed to constantly seeing him from morning to night. Now that they were suddenly apart, he found himself strangely unaccustomed to it.

Throughout the journey over mountains and rivers, Yugong Zhaoye would think of him for no reason at all. Even seeing a moth flutter past might make him wonder what Xiao Guan was doing at that moment.

Surely he wasn’t secretly causing trouble behind Yugong Zhaoye’s back again?

That tiny, trivial unease had been magnified by him until it successfully frightened Xie Youlan, yet inside Yugong Zhaoye himself it merely drifted aimlessly, never quite settling anywhere, stirring countless small, soft emotions along the way.

Truthfully, he was not especially worried that Wei Fu would behave recklessly.

Since Wei Fu had promised him that day, he would not act rashly.

First, Wei Fu now headed the Cabinet and held immense authority, so he genuinely could not move around without consideration.

Second, Yeguang was Longsha’s greatest secret. Wei Fu was ultimately an official of Xiling. Knowing about Yeguang was one thing; freely interfering in its affairs was another. If he crossed that line, not only Yugong Zhaoye but Yeguang’s own loyalty could come under suspicion.

Wei Fu might be persistent, but he rarely charged blindly ahead. He was extremely skilled at judging circumstances. Outside the home, he carried himself so respectably that strangers even classified him among the “steady and composed” sort.

Only at home, around those close to him, did he reveal his true form and expose a bellyful of unreasonable clinginess.

Yugong Zhaoye rode neither too close nor too far behind Xie Youlan, watching his back as he thought.

The two brothers had complicated histories and quarreled whenever they met. On the surface, they seemed utterly incompatible. Yet Xie Youlan had plainly included Wei Fu among “his own people” long ago. For all his outward disdain, he genuinely cared whether Wei Fu lived or died.

How exactly had this unreliable brotherly bond formed?

Was it simply because Xie Youlan had arrived in time to save him all those years ago?

Given Xie Youlan’s personality, one might have thought that not stabbing the son born to the mother who had abandoned him already counted as mercy. Why had he suddenly put down the knife and decided to play bodhisattva?

Then there was Wei Fu’s muteness, which had recovered after that incident.

According to Wei Fu himself, he had suddenly achieved enlightenment after taking a walk through the gates of death.

But if that were true, he should have learned to speak immediately after falling from the cliff. He certainly would not still have been unable to utter a single word when he and Yugong Zhaoye parted.

The true turning point had obviously involved Xie Youlan.

Most importantly, over the past two days, Yugong Zhaoye had suddenly realized a crucial problem he had overlooked for far too long.

Every time he had asked how Wei Fu injured his throat, Wei Fu either changed the subject or claimed that he had been only three years old and could not remember.

That brat had a photographic memory.

He could reproduce a map he had merely glanced at years ago.

And yet something this important had somehow slipped his mind?!

Yugong Zhaoye narrowed his eyes slightly. Out of habit, he fixed his gaze on the center of Xie Youlan’s back while thinking:

Most things Wei Fu refused to tell him directly were connected to his parents.

His parents, in turn, were tangled up with Beizhu Palace in countless ways.

Which meant Xie Youlan almost certainly knew something.

Palace Master Xie suddenly felt a chill race up his spine, as though some predator hidden in the grass had fixed its eyes upon him.

He abruptly turned around.

Yugong Zhaoye had already ridden past him and was heading straight toward a roadside tea stall outside the city.

Xie Youlan: “?”

“Whoa—”

The horse neighed and pawed the ground as it stopped. Yugong Zhaoye leapt down and strode toward a table in the corner.

A guest in black robes and a bamboo hat was already seated there. On the table before him sat only a bowl of coarse tea and a sword. The scabbard was old and visibly worn, though it had been carefully wiped clean.

Yugong Zhaoye walked over and greeted him with complete familiarity. “Brother, sitting here all alone—are you resting your feet or waiting for someone?”

The man glanced up at him. “Fishing.”

Yugong Zhaoye asked, “Where are you going to fish?”

“Into the clouds and mist.”

The man lifted his face beneath the broad brim of the hat. His eyes were large and bright, their outer corners naturally drooping. When he looked up at someone, his double eyelids folded softly downward, lending him an innocent, almost pure clarity.

In truth, his brow bones were high, his eyes deep-set, and his nose straight and sharp. Had his eyes been even slightly narrower or fiercer, he would have looked exactly like some ambitious traitor plotting rebellion.

But those drooping eyes completely softened the force of his features. Anyone seeing him instinctively lowered their guard and might even feel the urge to squeeze his cheeks—or make little kissy noises at him as though calling over a puppy.

“What fish are you trying to catch?”

Just as Yugong Zhaoye was about to acknowledge him, Xie Youlan’s icy voice suddenly drifted over from behind.

He stood slightly taller than Yugong Zhaoye, almost the same height as Wei Fu, looming there like a great tree blotting out the sky. Looking down coldly at the guest opposite him, he asked in an exceptionally hostile tone, with an inexplicable trace of gritted teeth beneath it:

“Who exactly are you trying to catch?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “?”

“Wait, Brother Xie…”

The guest smiled faintly—somehow looking even more like a puppy when he smiled—and politely inclined his head toward Xie Youlan.

“It has been a long time, Palace Master Xie. I trust you’ve been well?”

Yugong Zhaoye blinked. “You two know each other?”

Xie Youlan’s gaze moved back and forth between them. Ignoring Yugong Zhaoye entirely, he fixed burning eyes on the man in black.

“So you’re the guide he found? Cheng Yu, has that broken-down sect of yours gone so poor that you’ve lost your minds?”

Yugong Zhaoye: “…What kind of thing is that to say, Brother Xie? We’re not dragging him away to rob tombs. He’s only helping us out. Don’t make it sound so awful.”

A sinister laugh escaped Xie Youlan’s throat. “Helping? You two seem awfully close.”

Cheng Yu nodded openly. “There are several reasons. I volunteered. Thank you for your concern.”

“Several reasons?” Xie Youlan sneered again. “You really are good at finding excuses for yourself.”

Cheng Yu did not become angry. Calmly and frankly, he replied, “I wanted to help Prince Yugong. My sect really has gone that poor. And I knew you would be here.”

Yugong Zhaoye: “Hm?”

Xie Youlan: “…Oh.”

Yugong Zhaoye: “Hm???”

Yugong Zhaoye had no idea why Xie Youlan had suddenly become so irritated.

Yet he watched helplessly as, the instant Cheng Yu finished that sentence, the icy hostility surrounding Xie Youlan visibly collapsed.

The sight was strangely familiar.

Like a pufferfish deflating.

Like a bird folding its wings.

Like…

Wei Fu changing his expression.

Was this whole business of changing moods faster than flipping a page hereditary in their family too?