“Oh? Which maid?” Emperor Yongjia’s eyes lit up as he asked excitedly.
Imperial Preceptor Xu turned his head and looked down at Yin Chen. Beneath the gentle, unhurried tone of his voice hid a trace of shallow apology that sounded more like arrogance.
His lips curved. “Reporting to Your Majesty, it is precisely the beauty in the princess’s arms.
“This subject is ashamed. I should not steal another person’s beloved… but the matter of the Sacred Son concerns the state. I have no choice but to respectfully urge Your Highness the Eldest Princess to place national affairs first.”
Emperor Yongjia nodded in agreement, blindly trusting every word Imperial Preceptor Xu said. He urged repeatedly, “The Imperial Preceptor is right. Xue’er, be obedient. Hurry and hand the person over!”
Yin Chen was genuinely angry. His arm abruptly tightened, his hand reaching toward the sharp dagger hidden beside his skirt.
But before he could kill anyone on the spot, Song Zang gave an imperceptible nod from within his arms.
“Let the Imperial Preceptor take me. It’s fine. I have a heartthrob system.”
Yin Chen’s movement paused. Then he grabbed his wine cup and smashed it hard against the floor.
The precious porcelain cup struck the ground with a crash and shattered into pieces, producing a piercing, crisp sound.
Half genuinely and half in performance, he snapped at Emperor Yongjia. “Now he even wants to steal your daughter’s people? Father Emperor, why don’t you just raise that pretty boy as your daughter from now on! It’s only a maid. He can take her if he wants.”
Yin Chen’s words were sharp, his displeasure overflowing. As he spoke, he roughly grabbed Song Zang by the collar, yanked him outward, and shoved him into the center of the hall.
Song Zang stumbled two steps with red-rimmed eyes, let his legs go weak, and “fell” to the ground. He lowered his head and trembled helplessly.
The Imperial Noble Consort, who had kept an extremely low profile throughout the banquet, suddenly showed panic in her eyes.
“Yin Wu Xue, kneel! Apologize to your imperial father!” She was frantic and scolded him through gritted teeth.
The Imperial Noble Consort had long since lost favor, leaving her status awkward before the newly appointed empress. The only reason she could maintain a wealthy, privileged life was that the Eldest Princess remained deeply favored by the emperor, allowing the mother to rise through her daughter.
More importantly, if the child-swapping affair were accidentally exposed, it would be a capital crime implicating nine generations of the clan.
Emperor Yongjia was calmer than she was. Seeing Yin Chen push Song Zang out without hesitation, his attitude immediately softened.
He smiled as though he truly were an indulgent old father. “Come now, Xue’er, don’t be angry. Father Emperor has plenty of beautiful girls in the palace. Go choose for yourself. Whoever catches your eye, take her away. Everything will be according to your wishes.
“And Imperial Noble Consort, you too. Stop being so harsh on our daughter all the time.”
Yin Chen sneered as though he could not be bothered with the emperor. He tilted his head and shook the empty wine flask. “Where’s the Jade Spring Wine? Bring this princess two more flasks!”
Taking the opportunity, he exchanged a glance with Ning Yan standing at the rear of the hall. Ning Yan gave him a “don’t worry” look, then quietly slipped out while no one was paying attention, climbed onto the roof, and began monitoring Imperial Preceptor Xu’s movements.
Emperor Yongjia burst into loud laughter again. His voice lacked all substance, carrying a weakness and hollowness that even he himself had failed to notice.
“Good, good! Who says women are inferior to men? Xue’er can drink as much as she wants. Today you must drink your fill beneath our ancestors’ eyes. The imperial physicians are waiting outside, hahahaha!”
The hall became lively again. The princes secretly cast envious looks toward Yin Chen.
Envious of a princess the emperor treated like a pet cat, someone who could almost never inherit the throne? Idiots.
Yin Chen returned each look one by one with icy eyes.
Already in a bad mood, he began verbally attacking everyone present indiscriminately and even found an excuse to beat the Second Prince for no particular reason.
Emperor Yongjia did not mind the offense at all. He was delighted to watch the spectacle.
Meanwhile, Song Zang had already been gently led away by Imperial Preceptor Xu.
He kept his head lowered and followed the man timidly. They had barely stepped out of Yuling Palace when Imperial Preceptor Xu invited him into a palanquin.
That was right. Song Zang sat alone inside an eight-bearer palanquin while Imperial Preceptor Xu walked beside it on foot.
The man’s damp, clinging gaze wrapped tightly around him, tracing Song Zang’s slightly disheveled black hair, his beautiful and delicate jawline, his anxiously trembling wet lashes, and the faint flush staining the corners of his eyes…
The longer he stared, the heavier his breathing became. He resembled some gloomy creature waiting in the dark to strike, more conspicuous than the vast crimson sunset beyond the square palace walls. Song Zang found it impossible to ignore.
The eight palace servants carrying the palanquin were all corpses. None breathed, yet their heavy footsteps dragged through the narrow palace road, producing a rigid, regular echo of death.
The entire scene was absurd. Song Zang did not dare speak, but in truth he had drunk far too much today, leaving his overactive mind unusually excited.
The more excited he became, the more he wanted to play the fragile, helpless little victim being bullied.
The palanquin traveled all the way toward the observatory. The brick tower stood more than ten meters tall, magnificent and imposing by the standards of this era.
Song Zang still did not need to get down. The zombies carried him slowly up the staircase and gradually into the darkness of the tower.
Ning Yan secretly followed. Standing beneath the tower, he was just preparing to slip in after them when a rapid series of heavy footsteps approached from every direction.
A vast crowd of zombies surrounded him, nearly thirty in total.
All wore the plainest palace-servant clothing. Half the skin had been stripped from some faces, revealing hideous blood-red gums. Others lacked arms or legs, their exposed white bones glaringly bright.
The living-corpse eunuch at their head stared hollow-eyed at Ning Yan and said stiffly, “By order of the Imperial Preceptor, the observatory is sealed immediately. No one may enter without authorization. Violators will be killed without mercy.”
“Kill your whole family without mercy!”
Ning Yan stepped back and immediately cursed. He was cautious enough not to start fighting barehanded. Instead, he activated one of the exorcism talismans Yin Wu Xue had prepared.
Golden light flashed. Ning Yan felt refreshed, but the living corpses remained completely unharmed and unmoving.
These zombies were not evil spirits?
Ning Yan experimentally threw a vicious punch, smashing the leading eunuch’s head like a watermelon. Several fleshy red threadworms fled from the severed neck and burrowed into gaps between the paving stones.
“Hiss. Gu insects again…”
No matter how powerful the Northern Pacification Army was, it could not fight a whole crowd of freakish things like these. It was fortunate the players had entered the palace early to investigate.
His scalp crawled with disgust. The puppetlike living corpses began closing in around him.
They felt no pain, feared no death, and possessed exceptionally tough bodies. Several could continue attacking after losing their heads, while aggressive gu insects even tried to crawl into Ning Yan’s eyes and nostrils… They were extremely difficult to deal with.
Ning Yan became trapped in a hard fight. He discovered that many of these palace servants had undergone crude modifications. They were defective half-finished products being put to use instead of discarded, left inside the palace to serve tea and handle miscellaneous chores.
The successful modified humans had probably all been assigned to hunt mermaids.
That deranged scientific monster Imperial Preceptor Xu really did possess considerable skill.
The silent yet violent fight continued for the time it took an incense stick to burn. At last, Ning Yan received reinforcements.
Ning Ran lightly jumped down from the towering palace wall and kicked away a living corpse that had been attacking Ning Yan from behind.
“What’s happening here?” Ning Ran drew his sword and stood back-to-back with Ning Yan. “The procession outside is finished. The mermaid troops are already in position, and the Northern Pacification Army is on the way. No major problems.”
The pressure on Ning Yan immediately eased. He jerked his chin toward the observatory and complained quietly, “Song Song is too beautiful. That pervert Imperial Preceptor Xu took a liking to him and sent him to the observatory in an eight-bearer palanquin so they could watch the sunset together.
“I’ve been fighting zombies forever and those two are still hiding in there. Tell me this isn’t absurd.”
Ning Ran raised a brow. “Perfect. While Song Zang keeps him occupied, let’s hurry to the Cold Palace and look around.”
“What? No way! Aren’t you worried Song Song will get bullied?”
“If Yin Chen dared let Song Zang leave his sight, then Imperial Preceptor Xu has absolutely no chance of killing him,” Ning Ran said speechlessly. “How did you fail to understand something this simple?”
“Huh? Oh…” Ning Yan sank into thought.
Right. Of course Imperial Preceptor Xu would not hurt Song Zang.
But he really was a pervert.
Only after entering the dark tower did Song Zang realize with alarm that something was strange about Imperial Preceptor Xu’s eyes.
Those long eyes actually glimmered inside the darkness. Wet crimson light clung to Song Zang’s face, resembling the cold vertical pupils of a reptile.
“My eyes were modified using stitched tissues from a cat and a venomous snake. They let me see in the dark. If you don’t like them, I can replace them with a prettier pair.”
Imperial Preceptor Xu seemed capable of reading his thoughts. Without warning, he spoke softly and explained with remarkable consideration.
Song Zang trembled violently in fright. His frightened voice was thick with tears. “What do you want to do to me?”
Imperial Preceptor Xu lifted one hand slightly. The living corpses immediately stopped.
Then he abruptly stepped closer. In the darkness, he stared greedily at the tears in Song Zang’s eyes. Suppressing his surging emotions, he said hoarsely with restraint, “First, please remember this. My name is Xu Ming.”
“…I’ll remember.”
Song Zang thought he was surprisingly polite.
Xu Ming’s breathing grew heavier. He immediately pushed his luck. “Say my name. Say it several times.”
“Xu Ming, Xu Ming, Xu Ming. What do you want to do to me?” Song Zang obediently repeated it, eyes already red as he pleaded helplessly. “Please don’t kill me.”
Imperial Preceptor Xu lightly touched his right ear and released a comfortable, satisfied breath.
When he struggled to suppress his excitement and lower his voice, for one instant he sounded remarkably like Yin Chen, as though he had deliberately imitated and practiced it for a very long time.
A chill rose inside Song Zang. He had met many perverted people, but someone perverted to this degree was genuinely rare.
Xu Ming calmed himself for a while before lifting his hand and ordering the living corpses to continue carrying the palanquin upward.
He walked step by step beside Song Zang, staring darkly into Song Zang’s trembling black eyes. Complex affection and resentment tangled through every word.
“I have never wanted to hurt you. I only want you to love me. Song Zang, why do I love you this deeply while you know absolutely nothing about me?
“You cannot see me. You misunderstand me. You also think I’m one of those shameless sycophants who seduce their ruler, the lowest kind of filthy creature, a bloodthirsty criminal who respects no law… Don’t you?”
Song Zang cautiously shrank into the chair. His slender wrists drew backward until he sank deep into the gold-thread cushions Xu Ming had prepared.
“No. I don’t. I don’t even know you.”
“Exactly. You don’t even know me.” Xu Ming laughed softly and demanded bitterly, “Then what is so good about that hypocrite who willingly plays a caged songbird, indulges in false father-daughter affection, and hides in a rural village to escape responsibility for the country?!”
Song Zang’s eyes widened. His warm cheeks, already hazy with alcohol, suddenly flushed with anger. “You’re not allowed to talk about him like that!”
Xu Ming had expected exactly that reaction.
His smile vanished. Thick darkness flowed through his narrow phoenix eyes. He stared at Song Zang for a long while before suddenly saying, “Song Zang, I can take more in bed than he can. Believe me.”
The outrageously shameless statement nearly made Song Zang freeze on the spot.
Song Zang fell silent for a moment. Disgust overflowed his eyes, and his voice turned cold. “You can bully me, but don’t insult him.”
“Can’t keep acting anymore?” Xu Ming curled his lips.
A moment later came a creak. The palanquin stopped inside a dark chamber midway up the tower.
Two perfectly square little windows had been carved through the thick brick walls, letting in faint traces of blood-red sunset.
Song Zang sat there as though at a loss. He was just preparing to stand when Xu Ming lifted the hem of his snow-white robes and stepped into the palanquin.
The handsome man gathered his wide sleeves and placed both hands lightly beside Song Zang’s shoulders. His face remained hidden in darkness as he looked down at him from above.
“I know your nature is terrible. You have always loved pretending, and you’re hypocritical beyond belief. Yet I still love you. Why can’t you understand my heart?
“You’ve only ever shared intimacy with the Eldest Princess and have never touched anyone else, correct? Song Zang, how do you know I’m not better than he is? Try me. I won’t disappoint you.”
Mint fragrance drifted between their breaths, making Song Zang’s revulsion even worse.
How did he know the scent Yin Chen often carried?
Did he truly have no idea Yin Chen was the previous emperor’s posthumous son?
“Impossible. I don’t want to… Explain first. Why did you modify yourself into this appearance? What exactly are you plotting?”
Song Zang forced himself to reject him in a trembling voice. He wished he could bury himself inside the cushions, pitifully evading Xu Ming’s touch.
“I want you to see me and understand me. All I ask is that you spare me the smallest trace of affection. Is that some unforgivable crime?” The grievance in Xu Ming’s voice deepened. “Song Zang, I am defying Heaven and changing fate. I am saving humanity. You should not hate me. Everything has gone wrong.”
Defying Heaven and changing fate. Saving humanity.
For him to declare those words with such conviction, there was probably some truth behind them… but Song Zang still could not trust him.
“Your method of saving humanity is turning living people into walking corpses, modifying them into monsters neither human nor beast, and using gu poison to control their thoughts and actions?”
“…So you really have seen me. You’ve been paying attention to me too, haven’t you?”
Xu Ming’s way of understanding things seemed exceptionally abnormal. His mood actually improved at once.
Smiling, he withdrew his hand and slid into the palanquin seat beside Song Zang like a cold venomous snake. He continued softly, “You’re right. My conscience is clear. After all… modified humans are the correct answer for this world.”
After dragging the conversation around for so long, the man had finally reached the point. Song Zang immediately perked up. “Why do you say that?”
Xu Ming narrowed those viscous crimson slit pupils as though he could see through Song Zang’s thoughts. Smiling unhurriedly, he bent one finger and tapped the palanquin’s redwood edge.
The next instant, the rigid living-corpse servants suddenly moved and brought over two ornate glass palace lamps.
A tray overflowing with wine, tea, and snacks was silently placed beside the palanquin.
…What did this pervert mean by this? Was he setting up a romantic candlelit date?
Song Zang was inwardly stunned. Without changing expression, he discreetly smelled the items on the tray.
Three plates of beautiful pastries were even more delicate than those at the palace banquet. Xu Ming had prepared them in advance, and they had come from the oven around noon today.
Two plates of drinking snacks and one pot of Pu’er tea were all fresh. Unfortunately, zombies had made them, so they carried a faint smell of poisonous insects that had not completely dissipated.
As for the most precious Jade Spring Wine, there was no need to mention it. The rich, mellow fragrance flowed through the cramped space in threads, making the mouth water.
Song Zang silently wiped away the wet tears clinging to his lashes. Without ceremony, he picked up the wine flask, poured himself a full cup, tipped his head back, and drained it.
These were precious Life points. He would drink as much as he possibly could.
Xu Ming did not stop him. Resting his chin on one hand, he slowly traced the line of Song Zang’s profile with his gaze. A dark, uncanny smile hung at his lips.
If Yin Chen were here, he would definitely grab Song Zang by the nape and coldly force him to drink less.
The difference between people really was greater than the difference between humans and dogs.
Perhaps because Song Zang was willing to sit peacefully and share a meal with him, Xu Ming’s mental state finally became slightly more normal. He began haltingly revealing secrets about the world that Song Zang had never known.
The melodramatic story about the Divine Lord that Great-Grandfather Song had once mentioned actually had a continuation.
The human world had rules, and naturally the Heavenly Palace had rules too. Just as the Seventh Fairy should never have become husband and wife with Dong Yong in the mortal world, a Divine Lord likewise should never have privately descended to find the wife from his previous life and renew their old fate.
Elio’s Notes: The Seventh Fairy and Dong Yong are lovers from a famous Chinese folktale about a heavenly maiden who descends to the mortal world and marries a human man. Xu Ming invokes the story here as an example of divine rules forbidding immortals from freely forming mortal attachments.
The Divine Lord’s crimes were even more serious than those of the Seventh Fairy. He had attempted to seize the position of Human Sovereign, disrupted mortal marriages, and interfered in humanity’s destiny… Listed one by one, every act violated the order of Heaven.
Because of that, and to prevent the Heavenly Dao from punishing the immortals and gods collectively, the Jade Emperor moved first. He suppressed the Divine Lord inside the “Heavenly Mirror,” sealing him there for five hundred years with no possibility of escape.
The so-called Heavenly Mirror was precisely the point where the human world and the Heavenly Palace intersected.
Xu Ming told Song Zang that the Heavenly Dao was emotionless and acted only to preserve its rules, but the immortals who had been favored by Heaven from birth… every one of them possessed emotions.
Those with emotions inevitably favored themselves. They would never willingly surrender even the smallest benefit to another race.
For example, the sinister scheme of the Severing of Heaven and Earth. For example, the Divine Lord who would soon escape his seal.
The Lin Dynasty had existed for more than four hundred years and remained at the height of its prosperity.
In less than a century, the resentful Divine Lord would emerge from confinement.
He would take revenge upon every person living happily beneath the Lin Dynasty. He intended to seize his ill-fated wife again.
At this point, Xu Ming revealed a trace of mocking amusement. “Renew their old fate? Unfortunately, in this life his wife already fell in love with someone else, gave birth to a child, and died miserably.
“To take revenge upon humanity and satisfy their selfish desires, they deliberately sealed the underworld completely… So after the Divine Lord’s beloved wife died, she could no longer reincarnate. She could only turn into a resentful ghost and barely cling to existence.”
Song Zang worked hard to memorize every piece of information. A flash of insight suddenly crossed his mind. He hurriedly asked, “Is the Divine Lord’s wife you’re talking about the birth mother of the Ning family’s second son? Then where is his biological father?”
Xu Ming paused. He lifted the wine flask and poured Song Zang another cup before smiling ambiguously. “Inside this observatory.”
“…Dead or alive?”
“Who knows? I stripped the brute’s face off, cut away his limbs, sealed him inside a jar, and pickled him for a full ten years.”
Xu Ming spoke softly. His peerlessly handsome face twitched strangely for an instant, hinting at distortion and madness before disappearing again.
He narrowed his eyes, enjoying the shocked fear spilling from Song Zang’s gaze, then added with a smile, “By now, the contents of that jar are probably rich with the fragrance of aged liquor, mellow beyond compare. Unfortunately… still slightly inferior to this Jade Spring Wine brewed by a true immortal.
“Song Zang, would you like to see my work?”
Song Zang shifted backward. “I-I don’t want to.”
“No. You do.” Xu Ming saw through the truth in one sentence and pulled him up without allowing any refusal.
The tower contained four rooms, and Song Zang was forced to tour them one by one.
There was an elegant tea room, Xu Ming’s laboratory, the communal quarters where servants slept… and a chamber filled with “human jars.”
Human jars were Xu Ming’s favorite heretical technique. Supposedly they could brew liquor, perform divination, cultivate highly poisonous gu insects, and produce sinister modified humans. They had countless uses.
The black-haired monster that had been drawn to the ghost bamboo and secretly infiltrated the Song residence, along with the flesh-body Buddha’s head, had both originated from one such jar. They were among Xu Ming’s early experimental works born from morbid amusement.
Breathing the complicated mixture of odors inside the dark chamber, Song Zang frowned and drank another mouthful of wine.
“Since you especially enjoy eating my gu insects, then the wine I brew should suit your tastes too. Why not have a small cup and tell me how it differs from immortal wine?” Xu Ming stood beside him and smiled as he issued the deranged invitation.
“I’m not drinking it.” Song Zang refused decisively, then asked suspiciously, “You’re a mortal of flesh and blood too. Why do you have immortal wine?”
“Song Zang, remember this. My name is Xu Ming. I am the Child of Destiny. Everything should have belonged to me.” Xu Ming rubbed the slender neck of the wine flask. His voice carried laughter, but his resentment was unmistakable. “The people trying to stop me from saving humanity have always been you.”
“Child of Destiny? First tell me why modified humans are supposedly the correct answer for this world. What evidence do you have?” Song Zang lifted his fair face, flushed with alcohol, deliberately provoking him to continue.
But Xu Ming was not provoked in the slightest. Leaning against the wall, he stared at Song Zang’s face and slowly continued, somewhat lost in thought. “One day in Heaven is one year in the human world. Immortals are not omnipotent, and the Severing of Heaven and Earth cannot be perfected in an instant.
“For now, only the underworld’s cycle of reincarnation has disappeared, ghosts have nowhere to go, and spirits and monsters have been reduced to less than one-tenth of what they once were. None of this has seriously affected humanity yet… But once the process is finally perfected, even ghosts will no longer be capable of lingering in the world.
“With no reincarnation, humanity will only give birth to one soulless bodily shell after another, mindless lumps of flesh. And faith power without a vessel to receive it will become corrupted into the most sinister soul-devouring poison.”
Song Zang stared, unable to imagine how many conspiracies were churning behind all this. He drew a deep breath, deliberately pretended to be stupid, and whispered weakly, “Xu Ming, I don’t understand…”
“You don’t need to understand. You only need to know that I alone was supposed to be capable of restraining the poison of faith. In this world, I alone should possess true supernatural arts!”
Xu Ming became inexplicably agitated again. He abruptly grabbed Song Zang by the shoulders and sneered. “Even if my cultivation is imperfect and I prefer unorthodox methods, what is that insignificant Yin Wu Xue supposed to be? How dare she steal the faith power that belongs to me?
“She is like the Six-Eared Macaque, a treacherous thief who stole another’s heavenly fate. According to the arrangement of the Heavenly Dao, she should have opposed me at every turn and become the whetstone that sharpened my strength, before finally losing control under the poison of faith and exploding to death!
Elio’s Notes: The Six-Eared Macaque is the near-indistinguishable double of Sun Wukong in Journey to the West. Xu Ming uses the comparison to cast Yin Wu Xue as a counterfeit rival who has stolen a destiny that should have belonged to him.
“But Song Zang, tell me. What did you do to her? Why did she give up confronting me directly? Why can she freely chase fame and reputation, reap rewards without effort, and remain alive even now? Why would you rather treat her so well than give me even the smallest bit of tenderness?”
Song Zang stared at him blankly. Frightened into tears, he trembled and sobbed quietly.
If Xu Ming was telling the truth, then this dark, mentally warped overpowered-protagonist archetype was not someone easy to deal with. His first half of life must have contained countless terrible hardships. He held grudges fiercely, and his methods were viciously extreme.
Fortunately, the reassuring and dependable 【Mask】 saved Song Zang a great deal of trouble.
Xu Ming thoroughly enjoyed the tears Song Zang shed for him. Not only did he show no pity, he looked as though he wanted to lick them away.
Song Zang wracked his mind to avoid being molested. Taking advantage of Xu Ming’s emotional agitation, he finally extracted the secret of Yin Chen and Yin Wu Xue’s origins.
Yin Chen was, in fact, a victim too.
By ordinary worldly standards, the founding emperor of the Lin Dynasty had indeed seized the throne illegitimately. But from the perspective of humanity’s development, killing the Divine Lord and taking the throne had instead been a heroic act that restored proper order.
That was right. Once he formally ascended the throne, he became a Human Sovereign recognized by the Heavenly Dao, carrying the destiny of the Ziwei Imperial Star, a fortune that could nourish several generations of descendants.
Even under the Divine Lord’s curse, that direct bloodline stubbornly continued until a consort of the previous emperor gave birth to Yin Chen.
The Lin Dynasty’s destined lifespan was not yet exhausted. After Yin Chen was born, he inherited the accumulated fortune of his ancestors and became the next rightful Human Sovereign.
But that Human Sovereign fortune was stolen by the Imperial Noble Consort, who came from an aristocratic clan. She used an evil substitution technique to transfer that destiny onto Yin Wu Xue.
That was precisely why Yin Wu Xue possessed such extraordinary Daoist talent, almost like a Daoist holy child born by nature. In truth, she was the descendant of the criminal who had stolen that destiny.
Like the arrogant antagonist genius who spends the early stages of a fantasy novel constantly suppressing the protagonist… she should have lived most of her life in pride and glory, ultimately becoming the whetstone before the Child of Destiny’s rebirth, dying miserably by the protagonist’s hand.
But Song Zang destroyed all of it.
The orthodox Faith-and-Incense Apotheosis Method Song Zang gave her came from a true divine rank. It was overwhelming suppression from a higher level, directly throwing Xu Ming’s supposedly destined brilliant life into complete disorder and cruelly overturning it.
Xu Ming truly hated him, yet for some inexplicable reason was also obsessed with him… Two equally thick and violent emotions collided inside him. Naturally, Xu Ming’s mental state could not possibly remain healthy.
Exactly like now, Song Zang realized that while Xu Ming was venting his emotions, he was deliberately saying cruel things to frighten him.
Because every time Song Zang became frightened, he would “instinctively” lift his cup and drink wine to bolster his courage.
This was a weakness he had “accidentally” revealed and then “accidentally” allowed Xu Ming to discover.
Xu Ming really did seem to be trying to get him drunk, hoping to make him gradually lose consciousness like those living corpses until he lost his sense of self and could only be manipulated at will…
That was perfectly normal. There was never one fixed definition of loyalty and love.
When those emotions were filtered through a dark and morbid understanding of affection, they could easily manifest in the most twisted possible ways.
Of course, Yin Chen was hardly some sunny, healthy person either.
The family banquet had ended.
Inside the emperor’s sleeping quarters, he was slowly cutting apart Emperor Yongjia’s head.