Chapter 52

In Wen Biesang’s eyes, Crown Prince Chengyun was like a little golden dragon floating in the sky all day long; a sneeze from him brought torrential rain, and a roll over unleashed thunder.

His entire body’s scales gleamed brilliantly, and his arrogant posture was like the two dragon horns growing from his head, never shifting their position.

He was born noble, and he knew his own nobility. In his heart, he believed more in being a sinister, ruthless, and terrifying person—someone who could recklessly manipulate statecraft, trample everyone beneath his feet, and base everything purely on self-interest.

Yet in reality, he would feel a pang of guilt after doing something wrong, send medicine in the dead of night after hurting someone, secretly slip money to an old beggar behind his back, remember the names of commoners he had not seen in ages, and manage to eat the communal mess-hall food in the military camp... He even almost let his empathy overflow, wanting to send a message to the Prince of Chu.

He was a person completely different from Wen Biesang.

Wen Biesang was not a good person, nor did he ever voluntarily look upon anyone with regard. He never possessed overflowing empathy; even if someone on the verge of starving to death were to grab the hem of his robe, he would pull his foot back without the slightest mercy.

Wen Biesang understood that he was precisely such a person.

The first time he heard his mother and father discussing him, he learned a new word: empathy.

His father said that he lacked empathy.

To test whether Wen Biesang was truly a cold and ruthless person, they bought him a small dog. Wen Biesang liked it very much; every day he held it while sleeping, gave it baths, and rolled around in the mud with it. One day, the dog accidentally ran away and got lost, and Wen Biesang cried for a whole night.

The next day, the dog was found, and Mother said he merely had overly rigid boundaries.

Because his emotions were too extreme and his worldview too black-and-white, it caused him to appear immensely indifferent toward people and matters outside his boundaries, while being excessively desperate and intense toward those within them.

His father always hoped he would become a normal person, because he worried that Wen Biesang would not know how to regulate his own emotions, ultimately harming others and himself in the future.

Yet Wen Biesang would always manage to mess this up.

Therefore, he had never been able to figure Chengyun out.

On the day he was brought back, he was truly frightened.

Chengyun had said he would brand the black mole behind his ear with a hot iron, pierce his shoulder blades with iron spikes, and scorch the soles of his feet over a brazier of coals.

He had desperately tried to think of how to resist the other man, how to rescue himself from this fiery pit, and how to beat this villain to a pulp.

Yet when they arrived at the estate, the other man had lifted him down instead.

Even though he still maintained a fierce expression.

He had not felt all that much curiosity toward him initially, nor did he care how contradictory the other’s words and actions were, and he had no desire to understand why the man’s inner thoughts possessed so many twists and turns.

Until that day at the Crown Prince’s mansion, when Chengyun disregarded his refusals and insisted on persuading him to go home.

His expression that day was utterly wretched, every smile completely fractured from his gaze.

The little golden dragon in the sky had tied himself into a knot, miserably shuffling from one side to the other. He seemed to desperately wish he would stop shining so brightly, yet unfortunately, he could not peel off his own coat of dazzling gold scales.

Thus, everyone in the sky witnessed that foolish little golden dragon who had tied himself into a knot.

Wen Biesang found him exceptionally entertaining.

As he continued to emphasize his points, watching the other man bind himself tighter and tighter, he felt a profound sense of wonder in his heart.

He was perplexed, uncomprehending, and always wanted to get to the bottom of it. He also found that foolish yet still brilliantly gleaming appearance of the man to be immensely fascinating.

He kissed him, and they began to grow close.

Wen Biesang enjoyed his kisses, felt his yearning, and experienced those various nameless heart-flutters.

In truth, Wen Biesang had never understood why the man always suppressed himself; he could sense those scales gradually losing their luster. Yet precisely because of this dimming, he suddenly discovered that this glittering little golden dragon perhaps wasn't so arrogantly untouchable after all.

Wrapping his arms around the man’s neck, he could feel the other’s fierce desire and the frantic throbbing of the pulse along his neck. Resting against the man’s chest, he could clearly hear a heartbeat that was at times light and natural, and at times as swift as thunder.

He liked the way the man reined in his radiance for his sake, suddenly appearing less blinding and far more approachable.

Until that day when the man accused him of toying with him.

Wen Biesang was unable to grasp the exact meaning of those two words immediately; he sat up straight and asked him, "Toying with you?"

Then the man brought up his dignity, and Wen Biesang could not understand why such a matter was dragged into the realm of dignity.

Yet the man looked as though he were about to cry, giving off a sensation of extraordinary interest—or rather... cuteness.

When the little golden dragon cried, would he actually shed golden beans?

Wen Biesang did not know, but he wanted to see.

He asked him, "Are you going to cry for me to see?"

He had successfully angered the man. After sleeping through the night, Wen Biesang discovered that the man had actually lain down right there on the long couch.

Mimicking his usual behavior to make peace, he took the initiative to let the man help him put on his clothes and shoes, and even patted the man's head soothingly.

At that exact instant, the look the other man cast his way made him realize that the entire environment was not as safe as he had anticipated.

The little golden dragon could untie his knot at any moment, because the knot was tied by his own hands, and at any moment he could flaunt his coat of gorgeous scales once more, blinding everyone’s eyes in retaliation.

He understood now: the approachability he had imagined was entirely false. The little golden dragon had never put away his scorching radiance; it was simply that his own eyes had been bound in black gauze, leading him to mistakenly believe the man was no longer as dazzling as before.

Clearly, it was Chengyun who had kissed him first; clearly, they had willingly drawn close to each other. Yet in the other man’s eyes, it had somehow transformed into a malicious humiliation on his part.

Outside the cell came the sound of hammering and knocking, accompanied by the conversation between Qi Song and Lou Zhaozi. Someone shouted toward the interior, "Your Highness? Your Highness!!"

Their Highness had collapsed onto the ground, covered in dust and looking utterly wretched, as though he had tumbled from the highest heavens into a muddy pool. Whether he was dead or alive was unknown, but at any rate, he was completely motionless.

"Young Master, how is His Highness, really?"

Wen Biesang could only speak to the outside, "He is injured."

The people outside seemed to grow even more anxious. Standing just a few paces away from Chengyun, Wen Biesang quietly gazed at the figure on the floor.

"Young Master, how badly is His Highness hurt?"

The voice came from outside once more, and Wen Biesang answered again, "He has fainted."

"How is he, exactly?!"

Wen Biesang did not know what kind of answer they were hoping to hear.

Nor could he provide a more precise response.

Chengyun had fainted, and had been lying here for nearly a quarter of an hour. He had no idea what condition the man was truly in; he was not a physician, nor did he possess fiery golden eyes that could see through everything.

At that moment, Shen Yuerong suddenly glanced toward their direction, and the people outside immediately struck the prison door to draw her attention.

Wen Biesang also instinctively stepped in front of Chengyun to prevent her from inflicting further harm.

Shen Yuerong suddenly let out a cackling laugh, tilted her face upward, and said to the outside, "He's dead."

"You madwoman, what nonsense are you spouting?!" Qi Song’s voice carried panic as he once more appealed to Wen Biesang for verification: "How is His Highness, really? Young Master? Go take a look at him!"

They were unable to see the full activity within the cell, and since Wen Biesang and Chengyun were in the corner, it could be considered quite concealed.

Shen Yuerong laughed uproariously once more and said, "He’s dead. I can’t even hear his breathing anymore. Haha, dead, dead, dead!"

Wen Biesang held his breath.

Judging by Shen Yuerong’s martial arts, her internal energy must be exceptionally profound. If even she claimed she could not hear Chengyun’s breathing...

Wen Biesang shifted his footing and looked down at the person on the ground.

Conversation drifted in from outside once more as Pang Qi said, "We should quickly notify the Empress about this. She is far too dangerous, and the few of us might not be a match for her!"

"If His Highness truly..."

Composing himself, Wen Biesang slowly squatted down and tentatively probed the other’s nasal breath.

His finger was suddenly brushed by a puff of air. He withdrew his hand and looked down at the Crown Prince sprawled on the floor.

The other’s breathing was faint, and his lips moved. Wen Biesang heard no sound, but he understood the sentence.

"...I might not live long enough to wrong you again."

Wen Biesang paused, then suddenly reached out and propped him up. Chengyun’s expression was distorted, cold sweat pouring down. Only then did Wen Biesang notice that the arm he was pulling on was the exact one Shen Yuerong had struck earlier.

He immediately let go, and the Crown Prince slammed back down onto the floor. A crisp click issued from his jaw, and his expression turned even more agonizing.

Wen Biesang circumnavigated to the other side and hoisted him up once more, only to discover that his collar was already soaked through with cold sweat, clearly indicating he was not lightly injured.

Throwing an arm around Chengyun’s waist, he dragged him back against the base of the wall to lean. Just as he was about to stand up again, the hem of his robe was suddenly caught.

Chengyun’s lips moved. Wen Biesang could neither hear nor read it.

"I touched you because you might actually be about to die," Wen Biesang said. "I don't want you to die."

Chengyun let out a soft sound of acknowledgment, which Wen Biesang did not catch. Looking down at the hand gripping his robe, he said, "I'll have them bring some clothes for you to change into."

As he stood up again, the hem of his robe was caught a second time.

The Crown Prince’s face was stained with dust and tiny rock particles, and his garments were equally dusty. Against his bloodless face, his dark brows and eyes lent him an appearance of exceptional disheveled vulnerability.

"Is there something you want?"

Chengyun’s hand slid slowly down the hem of his robe. Just as it was about to brush his hand, Wen Biesang dodged away once more, saying, "You are injured right now. If I yield to your wishes, it would mean I intentionally wanted to touch you."

Chengyun seemed to let out a faint smile as he said, "How can you... be so stubbornly single-minded..."

He spoke entirely in breathy whispers, rendering Wen Biesang unable to catch a single syllable. Staring at the other’s pale lips to interpret the words, Wen Biesang said, "The Empress is coming. Seeing you like this will make her very worry."

"Are you worried?"

"The Empress is my savior. I hope her child remains safe, sound, and well forever."

"...Do you think if someone is exceptionally sorrowful, they might die faster?"

"Yes," Wen Biesang said. "Grief harms the body."

"I am exceptionally sorrowful right now," Chengyun said with a smile. "Ah-Sang, can you coax me?"

"Don't be sorrowful anymore."

"Not enough. You must coax me more."

After a moment of silence, Wen Biesang said, "There are no storybooks here; I have no way to read to you."

"Is my face very dirty?" Chengyun fluttered his eyelashes and asked, "Is my body covered in dust too?"

Using the white fuzz on his sleeve to wipe the grime from Chengyun’s face and gently patting the dust from his clothes, Wen Biesang said, "It's clean now. Still looking quite handsome."

Chengyun closed his eyes and said no more.

Wen Biesang walked out, informed them of Chengyun’s condition, and requested towels, water, and clean clothes.

The moment he turned around, he suddenly saw Shen Yuerong walking toward Chengyun’s direction once again.