By Lantern Light

Even under the poor lighting on the corridor, the painting's magnificence stood out. It didn't portray a particularly novel theme, was just a simple watercolour of a plum blossom tree by a grey stone wall and a ground covered in snow. But the petals of the flowers were like flecks of fresh blood, and their contrast to the rest of the art and the earthy tones of the corridor made them visually arresting.

As if in a trance, Yan Zheyun found his feet taking him closer and closer until he stood right in front of the painting, just beneath a paper lantern. Someone, presumably the artist, had written a poem on the top right corner of the parchment. Yan Zheyun recognised the calligraphy style as that of the same cursive on the inscription board outside.

Could this be the owner?

The poem read:

[As it is with plum blossoms, my parting with you shall take place in spring.

Within these walls, the flowers bloom crimson, without, your sigh echoes in the snow.]

Yan Zheyun felt a pang in his heart. His eyes traced the brush strokes again and again like he wanted to burn them into his memory. They were as carefree as before, but the meaning of the poem was filled with such a terrible longing that the author was like a bird with its wings torn off its back, shackled like a prisoner to his own emotions.

A single red seal mark could be seen, beneath the last stroke. It was of an unusual design, with just one character in the middle that read 'Yan'. Not the Yan that meant 'peace and quiet', which was Yan Zheyun's family name, but the 'Yan' that meant 'beautiful'.

Was this the name of the poet and painter? Or was this a pseudonym? It was a character he would have attributed to a woman. Certainly not to a scholar's style name, which normally had moral connotations to denote his good character. And yet the force behind the calligraphy hinted at a man, although Yan Zheyun could be wrong about this of course.

Whoever he was, Yan Zheyun felt an odd kinship to them. He couldn't explain what it was about the painting that resonated with him so much. Maybe it was because he missed his loved ones too, even if the emotions being conveyed weren't exactly the same as his.

He would have loved to continue admiring the painting, but he had already lost too much time just standing here. Turning around quickly, he rammed headfirst into a firm body that had appeared behind him without him noticing. He had been so distracted by the painting that he hadn't noticed that someone had walked up to him.

Tears welled up in his eyes as a dull ache bloomed across his face. He clutched at his nose, panicking when he felt a bit of wetness against his skin. A quick look revealed bright red blood staining the tips of his fingers.

Just great.

The pain made him temporarily forget that the patrons of Meiyue Tower were made up of the most affluent and influential individuals in the country. And that he, in his cheap servant's tunic, had no business looking up and glaring at them. But the intensity of his displeasure did falter a little when he caught sight of the man's face.

Wu Bin was a scholarly sort of handsome that Yan Zheyun found passable to look at but nothing too special. This man, however, was hands down Yan Zheyun's 'dish'. His looks were striking to the point of being intimidating, especially with his imposing height. But the most attractive aspect of him was the aura he radiated. He wasn't doing anything particularly impressive, just standing on the corridor and frowning in bemusement, but his presence alone was commanding.

The door to their left swung open and a rotund middle-aged man walked out jovially, still chuckling to himself. "The old gentleman was just teasing you, Bi—bi—" He choked on his words as he caught sight of Yan Zheyun. "Uh, Young Master Bi. This is…?"

The so-called Young Master Bi-Bi-Bi's frown deepened. "Keep quiet," he said, before turning his attention back to Yan Zheyun. "Are you all right?"

Yan Zheyun tried nodding, but it only made more blood gush out. Why on earth was that chest so solid? How many dumbbell presses would he have to complete to catch up?

He grimaced around the metallic tang in his mouth before replying hoarsely, "In response to Young Master, this servant is fine." With the way he was attired, it didn't matter if his face made him look like a fairy that had descended from the heavens for an earthly tribulation. He was still obviously a slave.

Young Master Bi didn't look convinced. He began reaching into the folds of his robes but then paused halfway like he'd recalled something.

"Bao, give him your handkerchief."

...that was an unexpectedly cute name for a servant who was probably a high-ranking steward.

Bao blinked in surprise, his eyes blowing up wide like saucers. "Yes, Young Master," he said quickly, shifting his incredulous gaze from his master to the young man standing in front of him with blood running down his arms and tunic. "Here, lad, take this."

"Thank you," Yan Zheyun said nasally. It was difficult to speak, so he fell silent under the weight of the man's considering gaze.

"Whose household do you belong to?" the man asked at last. His low, measured voice carried the natural confidence of someone who was accustomed to being listened to. But he looked young, perhaps around the same age that Yan Zheyun had been in his previous life.

Young, handsome, powerful. He seemed to fit all the requirements for 'Scumbag Gong'.

Yan Zheyun turned cautious. It was improper for a slave to look directly at any noble, but this meant that he could lower his gaze and try and examine the man's clothes for clues. But they were very unremarkable, just a simple black robe that would have made him look underdressed in their surroundings if it hadn't been made of obviously superior material.

So. Rich or influential, but wanting to conceal that fact. And coupled together with the apparent 'teacher' that was still inside the room waiting for him, Yan Zheyun would guess that he was someone from a political family. Or one of the princes. Not the general's son, because given the timeline, he should still be up north fighting a war. And the duke's personality didn't seem so stately from his sister's description…

"Young man," Bao called out to him. "My master is speaking you." He was still smiling cheerily, but it now reminded Yan Zheyun of the phrase 'smiling tiger'. Someone with a big smile on the outside but a propensity for cruelty on the inside.

He bowed his head in a quick show of deference. "This servant belongs to the Wu household."

"Wu? Minister of Rites Wu?" The man asked.

"Yes, Young Master."

The man cocked an eyebrow. "And you've accompanied him here today?"

…was it normal to interrogate the servants of others so shamelessly? The man behaved like he was entitled to this information like he didn't expect a household slave to have any loyalty towards his own master.

He felt like the suspicions he had of the man's true identity were slowly being realised. And the more he glanced at the rotund middle-aged man, the more he thought that he was right.

Imperious behaviour? Check. Born leader? Check. A servant that was most likely a eunuch? Check check check.

This had to be the crown prince. There was no one else who fitted. The other prince, the one whose number Yan Zheyun had forgotten, was a true coward. Because he hadn't featured as much in Yan Yun's torture, he hadn't been slandered as badly by Lixin. Lixin had said that this other prince had been jealous of the crown prince for obtaining such a delicious beauty, and liked to visit the eastern palace just to leer at Yan Zheyun and commit his terrified face to memory for his own sick fantasies.

The fact that this was considered 'featuring less in Yan Yun's torture' just proved how trashy and abusive the rest of the novel was.

But if this was indeed the crown prince, Scumbag 2…

Yan Zheyun felt his heart sink. He recalled Lixin telling him that the first time Yan Yun had met Scumbag 2 was during a visit to the Wu Household. Had this been brought forward because his attempts at changing his fate had had a butterfly effect on the rest of the world?

It felt like he would never be able to successfully flee from the plotline. He'd tried to run from Wu Bin, only to discover that what he thought was his big chance to escape turned out to be a joke. And to make matters worse, he had to run into the only scumbag gong who was potentially crazier than Wu Bin was.

Not that the man looked insane. But Yan Zheyun reasoned out that if he were a crown prince, he would have been trained to hide his true emotions behind a mask.

It was such a waste of a nice face.

"Young Master, this servant must take his leave now." He had already been away for too long. The fact that Wu Bin still hadn't turned the place inside out to find him came as a surprise. A concerning one.

He half-expected the man to stop him, but the man gave him one last level look before returning to the rooms. Bao followed behind and closed the door, leaving Yan Zheyun alone in the corridor.

He sighed heavily and began to retrace his steps. With his bloodied nose and inability to find any side doors, escaping today wasn't going to be possible.

——————————

"Your Majesty is done throwing a tantrum?"

Liu Yao pretended not to hear his teacher speak as he took his seat at the front of the banquet hall. On the outside, the doors leading to this room looked just like any other. But the inside was a different matter entirely.

"Teacher is as lively as ever," he said neutrally. "This sovereign is glad to see it."

This lavish room was reserved solely for the emperor's use, and to date, only Grand Preceptor Du Yi had ever received an invitation to dine in it.

The grand preceptor stroked his beard lightly as he laughed. "This old subject will live for a long time to come if Your Majesty were kind enough to stop causing me anxiety."

Liu Yao made a noncommittal noise as he resumed eating. Upon seeing the emperor pick up his chopsticks, Du Yi recommenced too. They were addressing and treating each other with such formality because they were so used to keeping up pretences. Not letting anyone find a fault to nitpick. But in reality, Liu Yao had the utmost respect for this elderly gentleman, who had been his imperial tutor during his stint as crown prince.

"Teacher," he said, picking up his wine cup and saluting Du Yi with it. "A toast to you."

The old man noticed and raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Your Majesty, when you do this, this old subject gets very nervous. I still remember the last time you offered a toast to me. The next day, the army went to war. Against my painstaking advice."

Liu Yao didn't bother defending himself. He had done that, but not because he had made light of Du Yi's words. Du Yi had spoken sense but also had never been on the battlefield with the northern barbarians before. He'd never had to see his troops slaughtered or the pillaging and massacring of the villages on the borders.

Liu Yao had been younger when he'd commanded the troops to go to war, handing the silver tiger seal to Great General Pan and telling him to win in no uncertain terms. He'd been more reckless, more governed by his emotions, and the treasury, including his own personal assets, had taken a big hit. But at least his people had been kept safe.

"This sovereign promises that there will be no war tomorrow," he said.

"Then what does Your Majesty intend to do?" the grand preceptor asked. "Forgive this old subject for being blunt, but the more you try and comfort me, the more you scare me."

Liu Yao heard Cao Mingbao let out a quiet, amused snort. He didn't react, just mentally deducted the head eunuch's pay for the month.

"What does Teacher think of Liu Wei?"

The grand preceptor looked at him in alarm. "The Diligent Prince of the First Rank? Does Your Majesty suspect him of treason? I have nothing to do with it."

Fine. The eccentric codger had seen too many ups and downs during his lifetime. He was now wary of anything to do with the competing factions at court and took poorly to the insinuation that he might be anything but loyal to the throne. He had misunderstood Liu Yao and was now taking so much offence that he'd dropped the honorifics.

Liu Yao dropped the bomb without preamble. "Of course, this sovereign doesn't suspect the both of you of collusion. This sovereign wants to know when Teacher thinks it'll be a good idea to announce my intention to appoint him as crown prince."

"WHAT?!" Du Yi was so stunned by this that he tossed his cup of wine onto the floor and scrambled forward to kneel in front of Liu Yao in a frantic kowtow. "Your Majesty! You absolutely cannot!" he implored.

Liu Yao clicked his tongue and nodded in Du Yi's direction. Cao Mingbao didn't have to be instructed twice. He lumbered forward with surprising agility and gently hauled Du Yi to his feet against his will.

"Teacher, let's dispense with formalities in private. This sovereign trusts Teacher above all other officials in court, and your mentorship has never failed this sovereign in the past. Therefore, this sovereign is asking Teacher to help me once more."

Du Yi shook his head plaintively. "Your Majesty, this old subject is grateful that you trust him so. In which case, let me remind Your Majesty of an important lesson."

"Please go ahead."

"You can know a man's face but not a man's heart. You are a caring older brother but you are also the sovereign of a country. Can you be certain that the value of your brotherhood outweighs the value of the power in your hands?"

Liu Yao fell silent. He knew that Liu Wei was ambitious and had a thirst to prove himself. But he was also a loving and respectful younger brother, who had grown up supporting Liu Yao in the palace. During the fight for the throne, they had been closer than ever, and without Liu Wei, Liu Yao couldn't say that he would have won with such ease.

If it were any other official, Liu Yao would have had them punished for trying to sow discord between Liu Wei and him.

But it was Du Yi. Liu Yao might trust Liu Wei with his kingdom. But he trusted Du Yi with his life.

He frowned. "Let this sovereign think about it," he said.

Du Yi nodded, gratified that his liege had grown independent, but wasn't beyond listening to advice. "This old subject won't ask you why you don't want an heir." They didn't have to speak about the elephant in the room. "But Your Majesty, when you finally find someone who can keep you company, then will I be able to retire in peace."

The image of the boy in the corridor in front of that painting flashed into Liu Yao's mind.

First the boy's bright eyes, then the painting.

He downed his wine in one go.