Futile Devices Scans

Elio’s Notes: Hi fellow readers! Thanks to a commenter, we realized chapter 53 is a duplicate of chapter 52. This is a mistake on my end when posting the chapters. Chapter 53 has been updated. Feel free to revisit it for the missed content.

Zhong Yi was reserved by nature. He always did more than he said, and what he showed outwardly was often only one or two tenths of what he truly thought. Yet if he did not speak, then so be it; the moment he opened his mouth, it was bound to either pour oil onto the fire or startle heaven and earth.

Those words were like chisels carving open stone, each character engraved into Mu Heng’s heart one by one. With a crash, broken rock scattered, and amid the swirling dust and ash, the true golden form that reached from heaven to earth was revealed.

With the body of a mortal, he was favored by the mandate of heaven. He ruled over the four directions, and life, death, rise, and ruin all turned upon a single thought of his. He sat cold and majestic in the lonely heights of the ninth heaven, and yet that heart was still warm to the touch.

Before it could become stubborn stone, it had first been clumsily and gently embraced by a pair of wings tempered by wind and frost.

“Am I really that unreliable in your heart? Anyone can come say a few words and trick me away?”

Zhong Yi: “…That’s not exactly what I meant.”

Although an emperor had no need to explain himself to a subject, Zhong Yi had thought Mu Heng would at least argue the rights and wrongs, the gains and losses, with him a little longer. Yet Mu Heng only gave a soft scoff. “Since you were sincere, forget it.”

Zhong Yi: ?

Even His Majesty himself had not expected that after hearing Zhong Yi’s heartfelt words, his first reaction would actually be “relief.”

If one asked Mu Heng what expectations he had of Zhong Yi, His Majesty would certainly fall silent. Because no matter how one looked at it, Zhong Yi had already done almost everything to the level of a model example, and asking for anything more would seem like deliberately finding fault. Yet he also would not decisively say “none,” because he could sense that something was still missing, and somewhere in the dark, Mu Heng had always carried a subtle premonition: if they continued on like this, they might very well fail to make it to the end. At some point, everything between them would suddenly collapse and come apart.

Only at this moment, as he looked at Zhong Yi kneeling ramrod straight before him, appearing even somewhat stubborn and blockheaded, did he finally understand what he had been waiting for.

The Egret Guards were the Son of Heaven’s sharp blade. They obeyed only imperial orders and had to be prepared at any moment to die for the emperor’s will. But Mu Heng’s expectation for Zhong Yi had never been for him to become a guard who only knew how to follow orders.

If he always went along with Mu Heng’s intentions, obeyed his decisions, listened to his arrangements, and forever pressed his true wishes down to the very bottom—never arguing, never resisting, digesting all pain alone—then one day they would discover that they had both become completely unrecognizable, that they no longer understood each other, and that they had ultimately walked toward an unavoidable rupture.

Yet now Zhong Yi was kneeling there, willing to defy orders for the sake of his own principles, placing his brilliant future and even imperial favor and holy grace outside his consideration. Because that was his true self, the foundation upon which he stood as a person in this world, the most precious thing within him: something that would not change for anyone, and would not be shaken by anything external.

He was no longer suited to the Egret Guards.

But Mu Heng could let go and allow him to walk farther, toward a place where the sky was high and the clouds vast, beyond layer upon layer of mountains and passes, until the years carved their record into stone, and the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder forever within a scroll of history.

Favored subject, loyal subject, famous subject… but what Mu Heng wanted was not limited to only that.

“Is that all?”

His Majesty’s unhurried voice came from behind the imperial desk, each word rolling across the empty floor. Perhaps because his attitude was too calm, at first listen it carried the cold, crisp ring of jade striking gold.

Zhong Yi was like a puppy that had just had a rare burst of temper and smashed a broken jar, trembling as he waited for Mu Heng’s judgment, only for His Majesty to say that he had also smashed an even larger one. Questioned until he was at a loss, his shoulders and back tensed, and he looked at Mu Heng in bewilderment, letting out a confused, “Ah?”

That sound was especially like a puppy whine, and Mu Heng very nearly lost his composure. He forced himself not to laugh, struggling to maintain a cold and handsome face as he continued luring the confession out of him. “You suddenly did something like this. Aside from worrying that I would take the wrong path, there was no other reason?”

Zhong Yi said hesitantly, “There wasn’t… was there?”

“There was.” Mu Heng’s tone was calm and beyond dispute as he ordered, “Think again.”

Zhong Yi: “…”

Now he was also beginning to miss Wei Fu a little—at a time like this, it would have been nice to have someone beside him giving hints.

“…I am truly dull-witted,” Zhong Yi asked with careful deference. “Could Your Majesty give me a clearer hint?”

The layers of robe fabric brushed and rubbed against one another as Mu Heng moved, making faint rustling sounds. That small noise only made the hall seem even quieter. Breathing and heartbeat became extraordinarily clear, thudding like an accompaniment to Mu Heng’s gradually approaching footsteps, merging together into what was practically a death-summoning drumbeat.

“I told you. Stop using ‘this subject’ with me.”

Mu Heng stopped one palm’s breadth before Zhong Yi’s knees and looked down at him from above. “Do you truly not know, or are you trying to play dumb and muddle your way through like usual?”

Leaving aside his slanderous “playing dumb like usual,” Zhong Yi thought, Isn’t this just forcing me to admit I’m stupid?

Yet the emperor’s heart was difficult to fathom. Zhong Yi truly could not understand why Mu Heng had lightly brushed aside what had just happened, only to turn around and fuss over some nonexistent “other reason.” He could only plead sincerely, “Could Your Majesty… give me a slight hint?”

Mu Heng tilted his head and narrowed his eyes slightly, studying him for a moment. Finally, he sighed imperceptibly and extended one hand as though granting a pardon.

Zhong Yi: ?

The good thing about many years of companionship lay precisely here. Although Zhong Yi had no idea what was going on, he instinctively cooperated, hesitantly raising his hand and placing it into Mu Heng’s palm.

Mu Heng: “…”

The two of them stared at each other, frozen in that posture.

A moment later, Mu Heng seemed to finally confirm that Zhong Yi really was simply a fool. He simply closed his fingers around Zhong Yi’s dry, strong knuckles, enclosing them in his palm. Then, out of habit, he kneaded the soft flesh in his hand. In this neither-proper-nor-improper manner, hand in hand, he held it up before Zhong Yi’s eyes and shook it.

“When I had just ascended the throne, I sent you to lead the Egret Guards in clearing out the crown prince’s remaining faction. You pleaded for mercy on behalf of one of the rebels… I remember that person was your master’s nephew, correct?”

From the moment he had entered and knelt down, Zhong Yi’s heart had been hanging uneasily in the air. Because of this small touch, it finally settled. For a moment, countless feelings and stinging aches surged up inside him. Hearing Mu Heng bring up old debts, he absentmindedly gave a soft “mhm.”

“That person was one of the crown prince’s staunch confidants, so I did not agree. I even told you to distinguish between insiders and outsiders…” Mu Heng said lightly. “It seems that after that, you never argued with me again over official matters.”

“Gradually, even our bickering became rare. Whatever I said, you listened. Even when I was wrong, you would obey on the surface and secretly find ways to make things complete behind my back. You never firmly opposed me the way you did today.”

“Treating each other with the respect due honored guests” was such a beautiful description. Zhong Yi was a trusted confidant Mu Heng had personally cultivated, and naturally stood on his side. What was more, although Mu Heng was decisive by nature, he was not the sort of stubborn, self-important sovereign who was difficult to serve. Whether the matter was great or small, he would ask Zhong Yi’s opinion and discuss things with him. This was already an intimacy that countless brothers, spouses, rulers, and subjects would never touch in their lifetimes. By rights, there should have been nothing to criticize.

But estrangement was like sand. No matter how fine it was, as long as it fell upon one’s body, it would still chafe. In the years since Mu Heng ascended the throne, he had felt its existence more and more clearly. He had always tried to find it and brush it away, while Zhong Yi had chosen avoidance and endurance.

“You distinguished insiders from outsiders very clearly, and very cleverly placed yourself in the ‘correct position.’”

There had only ever been subjects catering to the emperor’s will; where was there any principle that required His Majesty to accommodate him? Zhong Yi opened his mouth, wanting to explain. “I—”

Mu Heng squeezed the back of his hand and did not let him continue. “I know. Standing in that position, even if I did not demand it of you, countless people would fight to teach you how to be a proper subject. Anyone would try to protect himself wisely. I am not blaming you.”

They had met too early and spent too long together, their identities bound too tightly, so much so that as Zhong Yi grew up, many visible and invisible “shoulds” had trimmed away his branches and leaves and shaped him into the person he was now.

To Zhong Yi, Mu Heng was not entirely something good, harmless, and happy that could be calmly accepted. On the contrary, he was accompanied by much hardship, restraint, pain, and even fear. The saying that accompanying a ruler was like accompanying a tiger was not false. For his entire life, Zhong Yi had to carefully seek survival between fangs and sharp teeth.

“Directly interfering with the Crow Guards’ operation like this does not quite resemble your usual way of handling things. Why?”

Zhong Yi’s knuckles curled in as though startled, and only afterward did he realize that his hand had long since been in the other man’s palm.

Mu Heng was too perceptive. His insight into people’s hearts had reached a somewhat frightening degree. Even if he were not the emperor, getting along with a personality like his would still be exhausting, because he was the sort of person who could not tolerate the slightest speck of sand in his eyes.

“Because, uh… it was a momentary impulse?” Zhong Yi was like a child being held by the teacher and prepared to have his palms struck. Guiltily watching Mu Heng’s expression, he stammered in tentative exploration, “That’s not right? Then it was because… this… why was it?”

Mu Heng: “…”

So this bastard handled matters entirely by relying on an iron skull, while in truth he was muddled and clueless about everything. Mu Heng had patiently guided him and said so much from the bottom of his heart, only to waste his breath. He should have just rolled him into a ball and thrown him onto the bed directly. In any case, once the rice was cooked, no one would need to care why anymore.

Mu Heng suddenly bent down, slipped his arms beneath Zhong Yi’s armpits, wrapped them around his back, and lifted him up from the ground. How could Zhong Yi dare let His Majesty exert himself? He hurriedly followed the motion and bent his knees to stand.

However, he rarely knelt in ordinary times, and this could be considered a bit of suffering for him. His knees hurt and his calves were numb, so his steps staggered and his body pitched forward, naturally sending him headfirst into Mu Heng’s arms.

“Mm, Your Majesty?”

“With your spiritual awareness rising and falling like this, who knows what year of the monkey or month of the horse it will be before you finally achieve enlightenment? I cannot wait that long.” Mu Heng had been tormented by him until he lost all temper. He patted the ridge of Zhong Yi’s spine, and simply laid everything out for him. “That impulse of yours, rushing out as if you were being chased by dogs—was it because you saw those two bastards Wei Shuchen and Yu Gong Zhao Ye finally achieving a proper outcome, swaggering around and showing off in front of everyone, so you felt a faint bit of envy in your heart?”

Zhong Yi buried his head against the warmth of Mu Heng’s neck and smelled a trace of lychee sweetness entwined within the fragrant agarwood incense. Mu Heng’s words struck his mind like lightning, bringing a flash of clarity, yet after his sudden realization, he sank into an even deeper daze. “I… was thinking that?”

“You were.” Mu Heng held him a little tighter, his voice low with both love and frustration. “You have been like this since you were young. Whatever you want, you never say it. You only circle around me with those eager eyes, waiting for me to notice.”

“But I am also a mortal. There will always be times when I am slow, negligent, or even unable to look after you. You have to say it out loud. This time was very good. Only if you say it can I know what you want.”

These words were the sort that could only be said between the two of them. Otherwise, if the Commander of the Crow Guards knew, he would immediately hang himself, and if the remonstrating officials knew, they could impeach Zhong Yi until neither he nor his dogs could leave the house.

Within this vast and gorgeous deep palace, they embraced each other as though seeking warmth. Their burning body heat passed through their robes and warmly enveloped one another. Heaven and earth quietly collapsed into the space of a few square inches. The world fell silent and ceased to exist; only by hearing each other’s breathing could they still perceive it.

In every sense, Zhong Yi was the person closest to Mu Heng, and a person ought to know contentment. He should not greedily seek things that did not belong to him, should not think he was the special one, and should stop while things were still good. Only then could he withdraw with his body intact and preserve his heart from being crushed by fate.

Zhong Yi was silent for a long time, then murmured against Mu Heng’s shoulder, “Your Majesty.”

“Mhm.”

Zhong Yi said, “I want Your Majesty.”

He did not want to withdraw with his body intact, did not want to protect himself wisely, and did not want to be a safe and clever “favored subject.”

He wanted Mu Heng.

His Majesty seemed to be stunned by him. Only after a long while did he laugh softly. “Was I not already yours long ago?”

Joy as warm as water swelled to fill Zhong Yi’s chest, but it was not the kind of blazing ecstasy that made one want to scream and laugh aloud. It was as though they should have been like this all along, were meant to be like this. The drifting, unsettled clouds finally dispersed. Heaven and earth were filled with clear sunlight. Spring wind blew open ten thousand flowers in his heart, soft, fragrant, and abundantly overflowing until they filled the entire imperial city.

Satisfied, Zhong Yi wrapped his arms around Mu Heng’s waist and recovered from that wave of soreness, numbness, and pain in his embrace. He wanted to say something, but could not find a suitable opening, and was not yet prepared to be affectionate with His Majesty, so he suddenly brought up official business. “His Majesty is tolerant, but overstepping authority is still wrong in the end. Even if it is to soothe the Crow Guards’ morale, His Majesty should still punish me.”

Mu Heng: “…How dedicated you are, Commander Zhong. You haven’t even stood up straight yet, and you already dare say these things to me.”

Zhong Yi fumbled in a flurry, somewhat embarrassed as he separated from him, but Mu Heng did not let him slip away just like that. Holding his hand, Mu Heng led him back before the imperial desk and said casually, “They returned without accomplishing anything and were played by someone. What is there for them to be dissatisfied about? The two of you can go out to a restaurant tonight and each punish yourselves with three cups of wine. Pay more attention next time.”

Zhong Yi: “…”

Mu Heng could not be bothered to mediate relations between colleagues for him. He slapped a memorial into Zhong Yi’s arms. “Look at this. Intelligence Longsha sent back this morning. Your model example, Wei Shuchen, was poisoned earlier, and the Longsha court recently found out the result. They say it was done by Qiyun people.”

“Have the Qiyun people gone mad?” Zhong Yi was stunned. “Why would they poison Shuchen?”

“Exactly.” Mu Heng scoffed. “Yu Gong Zhao Ye just made a big gamble with us. He won at the gambling table, but in love… I would like to see how he cleans up this mess.”

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