Chapter 4

Wen Biesang did not quite understand how he had managed to offend the Crown Prince.

When he first saw his own portrait at the teahouse, he assumed it was just another case of someone using fake paintings to swindle people. It was only when he continued his journey and saw the official wanted posters that he realized the "monstrous evildoer" everyone was whispering about truly looked just like him. Even then, he felt as if he were living in a dream.

It was not until he drew closer to Shengjing and heard rumors about the upcoming construction project at Xiaofang Mountain—which specifically mentioned the location of his parents' graves—that Wen Biesang finally understood the Crown Prince was genuinely determined to capture him. He had racked his brain to figure out how to retrieve his parents' remains from Xiaofang Mountain, but due to Chengyun’s sudden return, he had ended up leaving one bone behind.

Clutching his father’s skull, Wen Biesang slowly pointed to the other, incomplete set of remains and said, "My mother is still missing a leg bone."

Chengyun replied coldly, "I suppose you shattered it when you set off those explosives."

"No," Wen Biesang said. "That bone is still in the grave pit. You were chasing me so closely that I didn't have time to retrieve it."

Now it was Chengyun’s turn to feel like he was in a dream; he always felt that this "evildoer" was missing something in the way he spoke and acted. He frowned, then suddenly smiled and said, "How about this: you come back with me and retrieve your mother’s leg bone. How does that sound?"

Wen Biesang looked at him. Chengyun put on a kindly, amiable smile. Standing with his back to the light, Wen Biesang could not make out his expression, but he could clearly see his white teeth, which cast a terrifying glint against his shadowed face. Wen Biesang gently stroked his father’s skull, lowering his head in thought.

He stopped running, and Chengyun, not waiting for him to devise a countermeasure, leaped down from his horse. As soon as Chengyun dismounted, Wen Biesang stood up. Chengyun deliberately took a step forward, and Wen Biesang immediately retreated one. Observing this, a malicious smile spread across Chengyun’s lips: "What, do you know how to be afraid now?"

Wen Biesang remained silent, staring at him with a sense of resistance. Chengyun approached him slowly, and Wen Biesang retreated just as gradually, his gaze sweeping over the two sets of remains on the ground before he slowly lowered his lashes.

He held the skull in one hand and let his other arm hang down. As he felt the round object roll from his sleeve and into his palm, a shadow suddenly flashed before him. His body was violently shoved backward, his back slamming into the massive peach tree, and an arm pinned his throat firmly against it.

Chengyun reached into his sleeve and retrieved two walnuts. He toyed with the heavy walnuts in one hand while looking down at the person pinned against the tree, laughing softly: "Interesting. To think you’d hide thunder-fire bombs inside walnuts. I truly underestimated you."

Air began to vanish from Wen Biesang’s lungs, and his face slowly flushed red. He tried to push Chengyun away with the skull he was holding, and beneath his thick, dark lashes, his eyes silently welled up with mist.

Chengyun tilted his head to study those excessively beautiful eyes, watching as the mist gathered, and his brows quirked with amusement. "Don't cry," he said softly. "I haven't even done anything to you yet... crying so easily makes you seem so worthless."

Wen Biesang tried to push his hand away. Chengyun admired his tears for a moment, thinking of that person from his dreams who had bewitched him so thoroughly, and finally felt a sense of vindication. He yanked the string of walnuts from Wen Biesang’s waist, patted him down all over to ensure no more round objects were hidden on his person, and then released him.

Wen Biesang immediately bent over, coughing violently. After catching his breath, he turned his head to see that Chengyun had picked up his father’s skull.

The demon-like Crown Prince seemed to have some lingering reverence for the dead; he cast a warning glance at Wen Biesang, turned to place the skull back on the ground, and then froze when he turned back. While he had been setting the skull down, the other had turned and run again.

Seeing those tear-filled eyes moments ago, he had assumed the boy was afraid, but to think he would dare to run again. Chengyun stared at the retreating figure, moving like a rabbit, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he forced himself to remain calm. He bent down and picked up a stone.

Wen Biesang felt a sharp pain in his calf and plunged forward, face-planting into the withered yellow grass. He quickly braced himself and scrambled up, continuing to run with a limp.

Chengyun: "..."

Truly, some people never weep until they see the coffin.

Another gust of wind signaled a second impact, and Wen Biesang fell to the ground again. He struggled to rise, but both legs were in too much pain to support him, so he turned and sat on the ground to face Chengyun. He was trembling all over, his eyes shimmering with water, looking like a startled rabbit.

"You unfilial son," Chengyun said, criticizing him as he walked over. "You would even abandon your own parents' remains."

Wen Biesang did not speak, only retreating in fear and caution, his fingers hidden behind his back. Seeing Chengyun closing in, he suddenly threw a handful of dirt and sand. Not caring if it hit its mark, he rolled over and crawled forward on his knees, trying to put distance between them.

His ankle was suddenly seized, and he was dragged backward. As he lay on the ground, he was grabbed by the shoulders and flipped over.

This time, Chengyun was truly angry. His dust-covered face was etched with a deep scowl, his eyes squeezed shut, but his body was pinned heavily onto Wen Biesang, his hands clamping firmly onto Wen Biesang’s wrists. Wen Biesang could see that he was struggling to fight against the grit in his eyes.

He tried to struggle, but the other’s strength was simply too great; he didn't budge an inch. The two were so close that Wen Biesang could clearly see the dust on his lashes and the fair skin beneath the particles of dirt. Even in this disheveled state, one could still tell that this was a face accustomed to a life of luxury.

"Your Highness," he finally couldn't help but say, "How exactly have I offended you?"

Chengyun desperately wanted to glare at him, but he struggled to open his eyes, only to have to shut them again. Gritting his teeth, he said, "For what you’ve done to me today alone, a hundred heads would not be enough to pay the price."

"It was you who put out a warrant for me first." His tone was laced with grievance, and one could even hear a sob.

Chengyun wanted to admire his expression, but he had to keep his eyes closed as soon as he opened them. The thing beneath him struggled occasionally, but the strength was like a mayfly trying to shake a tree—not worth mentioning.

By the time Chengyun could finally open his eyes, he saw only those slightly reddened eyes and a tight, cold, and rigid lip line. Chengyun pinned his wrists above his head with one hand, used the other to tear open his outer robe, bound his hands tightly, and then hauled him up and threw him back under the tree.

He exhaled, tore another piece of fabric from his own clothes, went to the river to wash his face, and returned to stare at him with a sinister expression.

Wen Biesang’s outer robe was torn like a rag, and his inner garment had also been pulled open by the other's brute force, leaving his left shoulder and collarbone exposed. The early winter night was shockingly cold even without wind, and goosebumps rose on his exposed skin. Wen Biesang hunched his shoulders, using his lips to catch the falling fabric and pull it back into place.

Chengyun’s hair was still slightly damp at the temples. He coldly snapped a peach branch and used it to pull the clothing off the other shoulder as well.

The pale, glowing shoulder was exposed to the air, and Wen Biesang couldn't help but shiver. He looked at Chengyun, who remained cold, his eyes filled with a hint of malice and provocation. Wen Biesang could only turn his head, stretching out his bound hands and opening his mouth to reach for the clothing again.

Just as he was about to catch it, Chengyun extended the peach branch again, pulling the garment down even further. This time, he pulled it down quite a bit, the neckline sliding all the way to his elbows, revealing nearly half of his chest.

Wen Biesang looked at him again and said, "It's cold."

"Indeed," Chengyun said. "In about half a month, it will be snowing in Shengjing."

As the night wind blew, Wen Biesang shivered. He tried to curl his body inward, but his uncovered shoulders were too cold to bear. He curled up, turned his face to the other side, and said no more. His lips were pressed into a tight line, but his dark lashes silently grew wet. Chengyun watched this, knowing his targeting was not without effect, and felt his spirits lift slightly.

He sat down beside him and picked up the *muli* (veil hat) from the ground. Just as he was thinking of doing something else to make him cry even harder, he heard the chaotic sound of horse hooves approaching from afar.

Seeing the torches in the distance, Chengyun pulled Wen Biesang’s clothes back up, stood, brushed the dust from his own body, and straightened his long hair, which had lost its crown, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible.

When Qi Song arrived with the cavalry, he saw the Crown Prince leaning lazily against the peach tree; although his attire was slightly disheveled, his expression had the calm, calculated composure of someone in total control.

"Your Highness," Qi Song said with concern as soon as he approached. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine," Chengyun said coolly. "Did you capture his accomplice?"

"We did," Qi Song said. "But on the way back to the Crown Prince’s mansion, he kept saying he didn't even know..." He glanced at Wen Biesang, unsure how to address him.

"Where is Lou Zhaoji?"

"He has already gone to Xiaofang Mountain."

Upon hearing the name, Wen Biesang instinctively lifted his head. Qi Song glanced at him and was slightly startled—the person in the flesh was even more enchanting than the portrait.

Chengyun suddenly frowned, stepping forward to block Qi Song’s view. He hauled Wen Biesang up from the ground and said coolly, "Collect the remains on the ground. We are going to Xiaofang Mountain."

He threw Wen Biesang onto the horse head-first; the latter tried to brace himself with his elbows but fell off, landing on the ground. Chengyun’s face was icy.

Wen Biesang looked at his parents' remains and said, "What do you want to do?"

"Do I need to explain myself to you?" Chengyun threw him back onto the horse with extreme roughness. He then swung his leg over, mounted behind him, and clamped a hand onto his waist.

With his head hanging down, Wen Biesang felt a wave of dizziness. "I don't like this."

"Do you have a choice?"

"I don't like it." With all the blood rushing to his head, Wen Biesang’s vision went black, and his already poor hearing became even more muffled. Pinned by Chengyun and unable to move, he used his bound hands to strike the horse’s belly with all his might. The horse began to stomp and snort, moving uncomfortably in place.

The surrounding men watched the scene in silence. Chengyun’s face turned grim; he wanted to smash the boy’s head in with one blow, but felt that would be letting him off too easily.