Chapter 6.2

The body dragging across the ground left a long, dark streak of blood behind it, accompanied at intervals by agonized groaning. Su Jiao turned back, her face still pale, and before she could even open her mouth —

“Do you think what he said about me was true?”

“What?”

It hadn’t been the meal delivery that provoked Xie Yan’s anger?

Xie Yan’s gaze was fixed tightly on her, his jet-black eyes deep and fathomless.

“Do you think what he said about my mother was true?”

At that, Su Jiao paused.

In his past life, Xie Yan had only two things that could never be touched — one was his mother, who had died young and whom he never spoke of to outsiders, and one was the elder brother who was the reason for his exile to the Cold Palace.

During the two years in the Cold Palace in her past life, there had been no shortage of guards who, acting on the Empress’s hint, came to provoke and humiliate them. In the course of their words, mention of those two people was unavoidable. She had heard those things in her past life, so she knew perfectly well how vicious they were.

Recalling the guard’s behavior just now, a flash of clear disgust moved through the depths of Su Jiao’s eyes.

Had she known it was for this reason, she would sooner have had Changlin drag him off somewhere out of the way and beat him to death.

“Mm?”

She was still caught in her thoughts when a faint chill grazed her neck, and the faint smell of blood drew near. Xie Yan placed one hand at her throat.

“No!”

She shook her head at once.

Even though at this very moment she would have preferred to have that guard dragged back and beaten to death with a rod, she knew what mattered most right now.

“I think that a person as lowly as that — even dying would be nothing more than a last exhale. There’s no reason to trouble yourself by dirtying your own hands.”

Xie Yan watched her in silence.

Su Jiao eased the tone of her voice, a barely perceptible tremor threading through it, and yet it was soft beyond measure.

“Her Majesty the Empress passed away long ago. In life, she cherished peace and magnanimity above all else. If a person such as that were allowed to go below and disturb Her Majesty’s peace, would that not be most ill-fitting?

What’s more… Your Highness is Her Majesty’s only son. In life, she chose the character ‘Yan’ for your name out of a wish to see Your Highness settled and content. If Her Majesty knew… she would surely not wish to see Your Highness like this.”

For a guard at the door to dare act so presumptuously, he had most likely done so at the current Empress’s prompting. On top of that, last night’s events had surely spread throughout the palace by now. Everyone’s eyes were on Yongning Hall, and if something like this were to happen again, those court historians and officials would certainly have something to say. If Emperor Jia were provoked into anger once more, it would be far more than just kneeling for two or three hours.

For another Prince, striking down a servant like this would be a matter of no consequence. But after what had happened last night, Su Jiao knew that for Xie Yan, it was different.

The life they were living now in Yongning Hall was truly beneath even that of servants.

Xie Yan still said nothing, watching her, but the shards he had been gripping in his fist were slowly released. His palm was already a raw and bloody mess, and it had stained Su Jiao’s palm red as well.

Seeing that her words were having an effect, Su Jiao understood that at this moment, Xie Yan responded to gentleness rather than force. She held his palm in her hands and drew a handkerchief from her sleeve, carefully wiping away the blood.

“Your Highness has a very fine pair of hands. It would be a poor bargain to use them to kill a person like that.”

“Your Highness showed him mercy in letting him live — he will suffer a fate worse than death all the same. I’ve wiped the blood away. Don’t let his blood stain yours.

Let us go inside. Allow me to clean your hands properly — shall we?”

The gentle, measured voice fell away, and Su Jiao raised her head to meet Xie Yan’s deep, unreadable gaze. Her heart was in turmoil.

The two held each other’s gaze for a long moment. The eyes that looked at her were still and profound. The crimson had faded from them, and the killing intent of moments ago had clearly gone as well. And yet Su Jiao suddenly felt a sense of the familiar — unfamiliar and familiar all at once.

That sense of familiarity startled her heart. An unnamed unease rose in her chest.

“Xie Yan.”

She couldn’t help but tighten her grip on his hand.

“All right.”

A basin of clean water was dyed red. The smell of blood gradually dispersed. His wounds carefully bandaged, Su Jiao looked at Xie Yan sitting quietly before her, her nerves still not fully settled.

After all, this was Xie Yan five years in the past. Though something like this had driven him to fury, at least he had still been able to be talked down and calmed by her.

As for that guard… he had simply walked away with his life intact.

Thinking of what Xie Yan would become in later years, Su Jiao was keenly aware that everything in this Cold Palace was, step by step, pushing him toward who he would one day be. She thought of the Xie Yan now — the one who had shielded her from the snake, who had stormed out of the Buddhist hall — and in the end, could not hold back.

“Don’t listen to any of his drivel.”

“Mm?”

Xie Yan looked up, and their gazes met. Su Jiao said earnestly:

“Your Highness’s mother was a wonderful person. And Your Highness is wonderful too.”

****

After Changlin had dealt with the man, he returned. The courtyard reeked of blood, and Su Jiao found the smell hard to bear. She glanced over at Xie Yan, who had been sitting quietly since his wound was dressed.

“Your Highness.”

Xie Yan looked up at her.

Su Jiao managed a smile.

“I’ll step out to change my clothes. Your wound has been dressed — don’t move around, I’ll be back soon.”

She walked through the covered walkway toward the rear hall, her mind still struggling to settle after the day’s events.

Though the Xie Yan of the present was not yet the one he would become in later years, the suffering of years in the Cold Palace was indeed great. What had happened today had frightened her, and though it had been provoked, still…

She had a path of her own to walk. She could offer a few words of comfort and persuasion, but she could not stay here with him indefinitely.

Her footsteps quickened. Su Jiao passed through the ornamental gate. She needed to find a way — to see her brother.

****

The moment the slender figure disappeared from his view, Xie Yan’s expression became blank. He unwrapped the cloth binding from his hand, exposing his raw, blood-streaked palm.

He washed it over and over with water, almost indulging in the clarity that the pain brought him.

“Your Highness.”

Changlin appeared silently at his back.

“Where is he?”

“Held in custody.”

“Send the tongue to Fengyi Palace. Grind the finger bone to powder and scatter it over her bedside. As for the blood…”

Xie Yan paused, and the image of Su Jiao gripping his palm with heartfelt sincerity, saying not to let that blood dirty his hands, rose in his mind.

“Drain it dry and use it to feed the fish in Father Emperor’s Buddhist hall.”

He said it lightly, as though it were nothing at all.

“As for the body — if we throw it outside, it would likely be discovered easily. But here within our palace grounds…”

“Throw it into the pool behind the rear hall.”

At this, Changlin looked troubled.

“That pool behind the rear hall has only just had Zhang Momo drowned in it. If another is thrown in, I’m afraid it will start to reek.”

“Who was drowned there?”

Xie Yan, who had been washing his hands, suddenly looked up, a flicker of searching intent crossing his eyes.