Although Fu Xi Yan seldom went out, he knew perfectly well where Haojing’s expensive establishments were and where high-ranking officials and nobles tended to gather. Since he intended to cause trouble, he certainly could not extort ordinary citizens. Once his identity as a yanei came to light, his good plan might turn into a disaster. Yet he could not kick an iron plate either. He only wanted to ruin himself, not his entire family.
After searching and searching, he ultimately chose Zizui Tower. It was supposedly owned by the Capital Prefect’s mother-in-law, and this was also where Zhu Yu Da had previously caused trouble. Ground that had already been tested always felt more reassuring.
Fu Xi Yan had barely reached the entrance when an attendant hurried forward. “Welcome, honored guest! May I ask whether you have made a reservation?”
Fu Xi Yan declared extravagantly, “No, but I want your finest private room.” At this hour, the finest room ought to be occupied already, shouldn’t it? Heh heh heh…
Since he had no idea how well he could hold his liquor, he planned to cause trouble while perfectly sober.
“Of course!” the attendant called cheerfully. “Take the honored guest to the Star-Plucking Room!”
…
Fu Xi Yan stared at the crowds coming and going throughout the restaurant. No, wait. Prime dining hour, famous restaurant, finest private room—and it was somehow still vacant?! Were all these customers in your building hired shills?
He immediately sensed that this would be difficult.
No. His journey stretched for ten thousand li. He could not collapse at the starting line.
Dragging his heavy footsteps, he advanced with immense difficulty. When the attendant tried to support him, Fu Xi Yan waved him away. “No. I must walk my own path on my own legs.”
The attendant: “…” But your body is blocking everyone else’s path.
Just then, a clear voice sounded behind him. “Attendant, are there any private rooms left?”
Hmm? A private room?
Fu Xi Yan abruptly executed an agile one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, his eyes sweeping over the young gentleman at the entrance like searchlights. Judging by his clothes and bearing, he was undoubtedly the son of a wealthy family, and Fu Xi Yan had never seen him at any gathering of the nobility.
The moment Fu Xi Yan confirmed that he did not recognize him, his heart settled. Swinging his legs into action, he displayed agility no fat man should have possessed and shot directly in front of the newcomer.
The young gentleman stared at the fat man who had swept before him like a sudden gust of wind, unable to conceal the alarm on his face.
Fu Xi Yan smiled faintly. Once the other man relaxed his guard, he immediately demanded, “You are handsome, elegant, and distinguished, so you must always choose the finest private room when dining. Are you trying to steal the Star-Plucking Room from me?”
The young gentleman, inexplicably complimented and misunderstood in the same breath, was momentarily bewildered and unsure whether he should feel angry or pleased. He explained gently, “This brother worries unnecessarily. A gentleman does not take what another treasures. Although I dare not call myself a gentleman, this is our first meeting, and there is no grievance between us. It is only a room—why would I fight you for it?”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
As the son of a wealthy family, couldn’t you be a little more spoiled? How could someone confront you to your face and still receive such a good-tempered response?
He was organizing his thoughts and preparing to redouble his efforts when another group streamed in from outside. They turned out to be acquaintances of the young gentleman who had arranged to dine with him there.
A flash of inspiration immediately struck Fu Xi Yan. “A thousand people have a thousand different faces. How do you know everyone thinks the same way? Why don’t you ask your companions’ opinions more care-ful-ly?” Please. Fight over it.
Seeing his companions look at him in confusion, the young gentleman briefly explained what had happened, emphasizing that he had no intention of taking the other man’s private room. His companions responded in perfect unison, “We will follow Brother Zhan’s decision.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Brother Zhan, live up to your name and start fighting!
How could a group of hot-blooded young men possess no fighting spirit whatsoever?
He inhaled deeply and was about to try again when a tall young man stepped out from behind the group. “Why choose at all? Meeting is fate. Why don’t we share the table?”
Do I look as though I cannot afford my own meal?
Fu Xi Yan glared at him and instantly—his eyes widened, his pupils contracted, and a warm, enthusiastic smile gradually spread across his face. “Yes. Yes, of course!”
The young gentlemen looked at him suspiciously, assuming he was trying to scam them for a free meal.
Fu Xi Yan laughed stiffly. He would have liked nothing more than to disappear on the spot, but… when the Third Prince extended an invitation, did he dare refuse?
He was beginning to question his entire existence.
Judging by the direction the plot had recently taken, he suspected he was not following a good-for-nothing progression storyline after all.
Over the years, he had tried practically every standard method of activating an underdog’s golden finger: knocking on fire pokers to see whether they concealed treasures, wearing pieces of junk as rings, picking up torn pages from martial arts manuals… Apart from having no noble fiancée arrive to slap his face and break off their engagement, he had made every effort expected of him. Yet he had never managed to unearth a down-on-his-luck grandfather for Fu Fu who could serve as his golden finger. At one point, he had begun to suspect that his transmigration was merely an ordinary medical accident caused by Granny Meng’s soup failing to work.
Recently, however, his life had suddenly become eventful. He was bullied after starting work, then encountered a prince while trying to bully someone else… Wasn’t this plot beginning to resemble a workplace idol drama? Could he have misunderstood the genre from the very beginning? Was he actually the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh male supporting character in some romance novel?
Then what was the point of working hard?!
No amount of effort could withstand the plot issuing one domineering command: The weather has turned cold. Bankrupt the Wang family.
Having endured far too many situations where greater effort only led to greater heartbreak, Fu Xi Yan grew increasingly anxious and even ate absentmindedly.
“Brother Zhan” watched Fu Xi Yan’s chopsticks repeatedly dip into the soy sauce dish and kindly reminded him, “Use a spoon.”
Hearing this, the Third Prince looked over. “Do the dishes not suit your taste?”
Fu Xi Yan raised his head.
At that moment, the final slanting rays of the evening sun spilled behind the Third Prince, seeming to melt his black hair and surround him in ten thousand rays of golden light—the image was influenced by the observer’s psychological state and did not represent objective reality.
Yet Fu Xi Yan’s obsession with golden fingers ran deep. How could he remain unaffected? Gritting his teeth, he thought, I’m already here. How can I give up without even trying? His face blossomed into a smile. “It is delicious. Even the soy sauce tastes like a delicacy from the mortal realm.”
The meal ended with both host and guests thoroughly pleased. When they parted, “Brother Zhan” even clung reluctantly to Fu Xi Yan.
Fu Xi Yan asked in confusion, “I wrongly accused you when we first met. Aren’t you angry?”
“Brother Zhan” smiled shyly. “I am simply too handsome. My mother often says I attract bees and butterflies, and I too have suffered deeply because of it. I do not blame Brother Fu.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
You should blame me. Blame my defective eyesight.
Fu Xi Yan returned home with wine on his breath and his judgment thoroughly cross-eyed, only to find his family surprisingly pleased. They believed employment had finally rescued a veteran homebody’s social life.
Fu Li An seized the opportunity to assign him a new task. “Consort Dowager Chen’s birthday is approaching. She wants a Hundred Filial Sons Offering Longevity portrait to enliven the celebration. There are not enough young men under twenty among the imperial clan, so sons from noble households have also been invited to fill the numbers. You, Dong Wen, and Chen Xing are all included.”
“They’re borrowing our faces to reenact scenes for the Hundred Filial Sons Picture?” Fu Xi Yan immediately hesitated. “What if I’m assigned Yao Si Engraves a Weapon to Record His Vow to Avenge His Father? Wouldn’t my father have to ‘sacrifice himself for the nation’?”
Fu Li An: “…”
Fu Li An said, “The consort dowager’s Hundred Filial Sons Picture merely gathers one hundred people to congratulate her on her birthday. It has nothing to do with Yao Si. You must never repeat what you just said to a third person.” He feared their father might die of rage at home before getting the chance to sacrifice himself for the nation.
Fu Xi Yan nodded. “If a third person finds out, then you must have told them.”
Fu Li An: “…” No wonder people said an eldest brother was like a father. At that very moment, he deeply understood the pleasure Father found in beating his younger brother—without hitting him, there was simply no way to vent one’s anger.
Fu Xi Yan only needed to show his face for the Hundred Filial Sons Picture. On his final day reporting for duty with the Yulin Guard, he slipped away along the route to have his portrait done, unexpectedly encountering a recent acquaintance.
“Brother Zhan” was delighted to see him. “From our first meeting, I knew Brother Fu’s status was extraordinary. I never expected you to be a member of the Yulin Guard!”
During their meal that day, the Third Prince had not asked Fu Xi Yan to identify himself, and Fu Xi Yan had happily muddled through without doing so. He had not expected their connection to remain unfinished.
Fu Xi Yan openly introduced himself, then added, “Tomorrow, I will report to the Brocade Guard. Should you need anything in the future, come find me at the Brocade Guard’s headquarters!” This was purely an empty favor offered verbally. The Brocade Guard would soon escort the Third Prince to Luoyang and did not even possess its own headquarters. For the time being, its members had merely been instructed to squeeze in with the Jinwu Guard, so there was nowhere for anyone to find him.
Unaware of this, “Brother Zhan” was delighted and introduced himself as well. He was a member of the Lou family from Count Le’an’s Estate. Although both families held the rank of count, the Lou family had produced Lou Wu Zai, a martial genius who had caught the emperor’s attention. Consequently, Count Le’an’s Estate possessed far more presence than Count Yongfeng’s Estate.
“My name is Lou Bai Zhan. I allowed you to mistake ‘Zhan’ for my surname. Please forgive me, Brother Fu.”
He did not explain why he had concealed his surname, but Fu Xi Yan naturally associated it with the Third Prince at his side and was not foolish enough to ask. “No harm done.”
Fu Xi Yan had slipped away while on duty, while Lou Bai Zhan was waiting to enter and sit for his portrait. Neither could linger, so they separated after exchanging a few casual words.
After remaining for several days, the artists finally completed portraits of all the underage sons from Haojing’s imperial and noble households and delivered them together to Imperial Painter Mei Xia Ying.
Mei Xia Ying accepted the paintings but did not proceed to Consort Dowager Chen’s residence. Instead, he changed direction and went to Shicui Hall.
Compared with the splendor and magnificence of the other palaces, Shicui Hall remained plain and cold even while bathed in sunlight. Its mottled walls and old, peeling paint revealed the desolation of a palace long neglected and poorly maintained.
Only several rosebushes beside the corridor remained vivid and alive.
As Mei Xia Ying waited beneath the corridor holding the paintings, he stood far from the flowers, as though afraid their brilliant color might stain his white robes.
A cold-faced palace maid emerged. She said nothing, merely staring indifferently at Mei Xia Ying until he understood and followed her. Only then did she turn and walk inside.
At the threshold, Mei Xia Ying stopped and announced clearly, “This subject, Mei Xia Ying, requests an audience with Your Highness Consort Rong.”
“Enter.” The icy voice matched the icy palace.
After receiving permission, he lowered his head, bent at the waist, and crossed into the hall. He paused, then carefully walked several steps. The instant he detected a faint orchid fragrance, he stopped, brought his knees together, and knelt. Raising the scrolls above his head, he said, “The portraits Your Highness ordered have been completed. Please examine them.”
“Bring them here.”
The palace maid immediately stepped forward, took the scrolls, and carried them behind a folding screen.
A dressing table made entirely of bronze stood there. Beside it sat the mistress of the palace—Worthy Consort Rong Rong. Her features were dazzlingly beautiful, like a ray of light or a tongue of flame within the dim room, making it difficult to look at her directly.
At that moment, she was studying herself intently in the bronze mirror. While drawing her brows, she said indifferently, “Unroll the painting.”
The scroll was slowly opened. Yet rather than depicting the sons offering birthday congratulations as Fu Li An had believed, it contained frontal portraits of more than thirty adolescent boys and young men.
Rong Rong put down the brow pigment and slowly rose. Walking to the painting, she swept her gaze across each face and frowned faintly. “Has anyone been omitted?”
Mei Xia Ying answered, “This subject compared them against the register. No one has been omitted.”
Rong Rong said, “Reward him.”
A palace maid immediately presented a gold ingot.
Mei Xia Ying thanked her for the reward and was preparing to withdraw when he heard her say, “Circle the five best-looking ones.”
The palace maid handed him a used stick of brow pigment.
Mei Xia Ying froze briefly before accepting it respectfully.
The painting had already been turned around to face him. Every young man within it appeared spirited and radiant. At the moment their likenesses were painted, none could possibly have imagined that their future fates might be rewritten because of it.
After hesitating, Mei Xia Ying cautiously asked, “Should I judge by outward appearance or by bone structure?”
Rong Rong said calmly, “Either. If five are insufficient, choose ten.”
Mei Xia Ying’s hand trembled faintly. He answered softly, “Yes.” Without further hesitation, he circled five figures in succession, then also circled the person in the corner. Afterward, he bowed and raised the brow pigment above his head. Once the palace maid took it from him, he waited a little longer. After confirming that no further instructions came from within, he slowly withdrew.
When he left, it was as though he carried away the final trace of life in the room. Even the sunlight entering through the windows seemed lifeless.
Rong Rong noticed nothing. She stared at the painting after it was turned toward her once more, raised a hand, and swept a finger across her lips. Her fingertip, stained with vivid red lip color, dragged across the necks of every circled figure. Suddenly, she flew into a rage, snatched up the painting, and hurled it away. Still unsatisfied, she spun toward the dressing table and swept everything from its surface.
“Wretches! Wretches! Every one of them is a wretch!”
The palace maids attending her remained standing like pieces of wood, turning a blind eye to everything before them.
After raging for a long while, Rong Rong finally stopped.
She sat elegantly before the bronze mirror again, picked up a forehead ornament, and held it against her face. “Give the painting to Hu Yu. Tell him…”
The ornament finally settled over the life palace between her brows.
“Leave none alive.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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