PC Chapter 9

On the way back, Su Cen no longer had the mind to appreciate the reflections of the pavilions or the bright moonlight. He cursed inwardly along the way, thinking about how that old fox was such a master at putting on airs—pretending to be all friendly at the banquet, while secretly planning to kill him.

 

To think he’d actually felt a twinge of sympathy in the end and spared him two cups of cold wine. If he’d known it would come to this, he’d have drunk that old bastard to death, even if it cost him half his life.

 

And he had actually thought those eyes were good-looking?

 

Good-looking, my ass!

 

He cursed all the way back to his residence, where Ah Fu had already gone to bed, leaving a lamp on for him in the room.

 

Lying down on his bed, Su Cen finally felt dizzy, and it hit him hard, making his head spin. He hadn’t eaten much all evening, but he had drunk quite a lot, and it was all cold wine. Now it was all churning in his stomach, roiling around, spreading to his limbs.

 

He felt terrible.

 

Those eyes, like a jar of aged wine, seemed to stare at him—refusing to let him serve as the emperor’s tutor, refusing to let him join the Secretariat. For a moment, he’d actually thought the man admired him, wanting to keep him close for his own use. But now it seemed he only wanted to keep Su Cen under his watchful eye. When he hadn’t managed to kill him during the court exam, he tied a leash around his neck to prevent him from running around and causing trouble.

 

He felt awful.

 

After tossing and turning for a while, sleep didn’t come, and his head was about to explode. Su Cen finally gave up, sat up abruptly, opened the door, and headed to the backyard.

 

Maybe a walk in the cool breeze would help sober him up.

 

There was a hawthorn tree in the backyard that spread wide, shading the area. It was planted by the previous owner of the house and was now in full bloom, with clusters of small white flowers flourishing. During the day, you couldn’t smell much, but in the night air, there was a faint fragrance.

 

Su Cen sat under the tree, where small white petals were scattered all over the ground. The night in March wasn’t particularly warm, and the cool breeze cleared away much of his intoxication.

 

Just as he was starting to feel a bit sleepy, a rustling sound suddenly came from the bushes behind the tree.

 

A cat?

 

Su Cen frowned.

 

When he stood up, the sound stopped. That confirmed for him that it wasn’t a cat—it wasn’t even an animal. The noise he made was loud enough to be heard from this side, and if it were some small creature, it would have run off by now.

 

Not an animal, but moving—so it must be a person.

 

Grabbing a dry stick Ah Fu had left out to dry, Su Cen held his breath and cautiously approached. He parted the dry grass, ready to swing if there was any sudden movement.

 

When he got closer, Su Cen saw clearly.

 

It was indeed a person.

 

Dressed in blood-soaked clothes.

 

Before Su Cen could react, the person in the grass let out a pitiful cry, then fainted straight away after running out of breath.

 

Su Cen: “…”

 

If this person died here, the first case he handled at the Dali Temple would have to be his own.

 

Gently lifting the person’s face from under the wet hair, Su Cen let out a soft “huh.” The person had a sharp chin and long eyes, and perhaps due to blood loss, their face appeared particularly pale under the moonlight, like a piece of ancient jade with a hint of green.

 

It was that courtesan from the teahouse the other day.

 

If Su Cen remembered correctly, he had said his name was Qu Ling’er.

 

Dragging the person from the backyard to the front hall, Ah Fu, who had obviously been awakened by the earlier shout, came out, looking dazed. It wasn’t until Su Cen urged him to help that he snapped out of it.

 

The person looked slender, as if he weighed nothing, but once limp, he became as heavy as a thousand-pound stone. It took quite a bit of effort to get him onto the bed. After instructing Ah Fu to boil some water, Su Cen finally picked up a candle lamp to get a better look at the person.

 

The white cloth garments were soaked with blood, some darkened, some still fresh. Upon closer inspection, the face was tinged with green, lips were pale, and sweat dripped down the forehead. Su Cen carefully undressed him, frowning. The frail body was covered in bruises, abrasions, and even knife wounds. The most serious was a horizontal gash across the waist, about an inch deep. Whoever did this struck with ruthless precision.

 

Someone had clearly tried to kill him.

 

After cleaning and dressing the wounds, changing clothes, and tending to him for most of the night, Su Cen finally paused. When the morning rooster crowed, he fell asleep on the table for a while. After some time, he was awakened by movement on the bed.

 

The man had opened his almond-shaped eyes and was looking at him with a smile. His first words were, “I’m hungry.”

 

Unmoved, Su Cen stared at him coldly. “Who tried to kill you?”

 

Qu Ling’er’s eyes shifted, looking at Su Cen with watery eyes. “I’m so hungry I’m about to starve to death. I don’t have the strength to talk.”

 

Su Cen stared at him for a moment, then nodded, went out the door, and called, “Ah Fu, go report this to the authorities.”

 

“Hey, hey!” Qu Ling’er leaped up from the bed, grimacing as he held his waist, shouting toward the door, “Don’t report it! I’ve got the strength to talk now. I’ll tell you, okay?”

 

Leaning against the door frame, Su Cen looked at him with a face full of impatience.

 

Qu Ling’er slowly lay back down on the bed. “I fell.”

 

Su Cen raised an eyebrow. “You fell from my wall?”

 

Qu Ling’er’s eyes darted around before he nodded. “Yes.”

 

Su Cen called out, “Ah Fu—”

 

“No, no,” Qu Ling’er hurriedly waved his hand. “I fell off a cliff, a cliff.”

 

Su Cen frowned but didn’t interrupt, signaling him to continue.

 

“Someone was chasing me to kill me. I had no choice but to think of a way to escape. If they caught me, I’d be dead for sure. I had everything planned—there were preparations at both the bottom and the side of the cliff. I just didn’t expect to mess up because of this injury on my waist.”

 

“Was it Li Shi?” Su Cen suddenly asked.

 

The other day, this person had tried to assassinate Li Shi. Given Li Shi’s status and power, killing someone would be a trivial task. So, seeing this person covered in wounds, Su Cen’s first thought was of Li Shi. That’s also why he hadn’t thrown him out right away. If it really was Li Shi who wanted him dead, his own days might be numbered too. They were both unfortunate souls in this world—if not exactly sympathetic to each other, they could at least lend a hand.

 

Qu Ling’er’s eyes dimmed a bit, and he shook his head. “It wasn’t him.”

 

“It wasn’t him?” Su Cen straightened up, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief.

 

Whether it was the relief of surviving a disaster or some unaccounted-for comfort, there was no hint of murderous intent in those eyes he couldn’t quite understand.

 

“Then who wants to kill you?” Su Cen continued to ask.

 

Qu Ling’er remained completely silent. Su Cen worried he might have fainted again and took two steps forward to check. He saw that the man had one arm draped over his eyes, lips thin and cold, speaking softly, “I really can’t tell you. Even if you take me to see an official, I still won’t say.”

 

Everyone has their difficulties. Since Su Cen had gotten the answer he wanted, he didn’t press any further. He instructed Ah Fu to cook some plain porridge and fed it to the man, while he himself sat to the side, gnawing on half an elbow of meat.

 

Qu Ling’er looked at the meat with eyes full of longing, his gaze sharp enough to pierce. Unfortunately, the other man remained completely oblivious, eating while complaining to Ah Fu that their family sold tea, not salt. He threatened that if Ah Fu used that much salt again, he’d sell him to for salt.

 

Seeing that the man had almost finished eating and his face looked a bit more lively, Su Cen continued his questioning. “Why did you come looking for me?” Seeing the quick turn of his eyes, Su Cen added, “I don’t believe you just happened to stumble into my yard. If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll throw you out.”

 

Qu Ling’er pouted. “Why so fierce?” Then, turning with a playful smile, he said, “You saved me once before, didn’t you? I don’t like owing people too much, and since I already owe you once, it wouldn’t hurt to owe you a bit more.”

 

Su Cen rolled his eyes. “I lend you rice, and you return chaff. Do you think that’s fair?”

 

“Repaying a drop of kindness with a spring,” Qu Ling’er said, finishing his porridge and lying down with his hand on his waist. Having narrowly escaped death and eaten a full meal, he let out a comfortable sigh, closed his eyes, and didn’t want to move anymore.

 

“If you don’t want to tell me who’s trying to kill you, I won’t force you,” Su Cen said. “But you need to tell me why they want you dead.”

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Qu Linger said, half-opening his peach blossom eyes. “As long as you keep quiet, they won’t come after you.”

 

“You attempted to assassinate a prince of the current dynasty. Are you being hunted because of that?”

 

“I never intended to assassinate him; I was just putting on a show. Li Shi saw through it; otherwise, he wouldn’t have let us off so easily that day.” Qu Ling’er smiled at him. “So don’t worry. I’m not some imperial fugitive. They all think I died jumping off the cliff, so they won’t be able to find me here for a while. Just think of me as keeping a cat or a dog—once I recover, I’ll leave right away and definitely won’t burden you.”

 

Su Cen was taken aback for a moment. He wanted to say something, but the person had already closed his eyes. Shaking his head silently, he helped Ah Fu clean up the bowls and chopsticks quietly.

 

Before leaving the room, he glanced back at him. The man’s face was still terribly pale, with a slight furrow between his brows, lacking the sharp look he’d had that day.

 

He wasn’t the kind of person who liked to meddle in other people’s affairs. The last time he helped him, he had already regretted getting involved. Now that he was letting him stay, to be honest, he was hesitant.

 

His ambition was to serve the state, to join the Dali Temple and wield the sword of truth and justice, helping the wronged seek justice and the vengeful exact revenge. But this man was an assassin, whose background and identity were still unknown. Besides, he carried many secrets—whether he was an enemy or a friend, good or evil, Su Cen had no way of knowing. However, seeing the exhaustion on his face, a living person, casually comparing himself to a cat or a dog—unless he was truly at his wit’s end, he wouldn’t have climbed over the wall in the middle of the night to seek refuge with someone he’d only met once.

 

He didn’t look that old. What kind of deep-seated grudge would drive him to jump off a cliff to save his life?

 

Closing the door to the room, he instructed Ah Fu to keep a close eye on him and to report even the slightest movement.

 

He spoke loud enough to make sure the person inside could hear, then glanced once more at the closed door before returning to his room to catch up on some sleep.

 

---