Chapter 163
Chapter 163
Shengsheng Zhou lifted the curtain and looked outside.
They had completely left the palace.
Even after reincarnating, why could she not escape a life of travel?
She glanced at the two people opposite and looked away, ashen-faced.
Heaven, you are playing with me.
Let us turn back the clock.
“Imperial Brother, does Sheng’er look sturdy?”
Shengsheng rolled up her sleeve and flexed.
Weiqing Song silently looked away from her lotus-white forearm and met Fusheng Duan’s gaze.
Weiqing: “…No.”
She bent one leg, raised both arms, and balanced like a golden rooster. “Then does Sheng’er look highly skilled in martial arts?”
Weiqing stared woodenly. “What are you trying to say?”
Shengsheng lowered her leg and said earnestly, “So Sheng’er can neither serve as your solid shield nor protect your safety. What! Is the purpose! Of taking me along?!”
*My darling Imperial Brother indeed. Whatever exhausted Imperial Father into illness must be terribly dangerous, and now you remember to take me along to ‘enjoy myself’!*
Weiqing glanced at the bird on her shoulder. Seeing no reaction, he said, “Imperial Brother has another purpose for bringing you.”
“What purpose?”
*To throw this princess out as a distraction when danger comes?*
Weiqing coughed. “Does Sheng’er know Deep Mountain?”
*Deep Mountain? What is that? I don’t remember it from the original book.*
Seeing her confusion, Weiqing explained, “Deep Mountain lies within Zhen Kingdom but does not belong to it. A family named Duanmu lives there. Every member possesses formidable abilities, and the people below call them living immortals.”
Shengsheng: “…” Then what was Xiyuan Duanmu’s ability?
Was she especially talented at researching adult-colored material?
Weiqing paused, then continued, “Recently, townspeople repeatedly reported strange phenomena. Lightning frequently falls from the sky. Nobody has been injured, but the people are terrified.”
If ordinary people were not responsible, it was connected to the mountain clan.
*But an incident of this level exhausted Imperial Father? Could his health… Waaah, Imperial Father!*
Weiqing closed his eyes and continued, “A new rumor recently claimed the princess angered heaven by refusing to marry the Yong emperor, bringing divine punishment.”
Shengsheng shot upright. “Let’s go, Imperial Brother! We leave now!”
*Outrageous! Why not say Siran Ming angered heaven by growing bold enough to want this princess?!*
Weiqing told her to calm down. “There is no hurry. The matter is uncanny, so I found an expert to accompany us.”
Shengsheng wondered why he had not said so sooner.
But when she saw the expert, her breathing stopped.
A man in red had entered at some unknown moment and stood behind her. Meeting her gaze, he slowly smiled. “Hello. I am the expert.”
Shengsheng laughed dryly in disbelief. “Imperial Brother, didn’t Elder Sister Noble Consort return to Zhu Kingdom? Why is she here?”
Weiqing glanced sideways. Keep pretending.
He seized her wrist and pulled her before Fusheng. Shengsheng’s innocent expression stiffened. She struggled but could not escape.
Under Fusheng’s puzzled gaze, Weiqing placed Shengsheng’s hand upon Fusheng’s perfectly flat chest.
Weiqing turned. “Can you feel it?”
Shengsheng smiled more miserably than if she cried. “Perhaps Elder Sister Noble Consort hasn’t developed yet?”
Weiqing smiled gently. “He’s already twenty. Any later and they’ll sag.”
Hidden by his robes, Fusheng stepped on Weiqing’s foot and ground down.
Weiqing Song released her hand, his expression livid. “He’s a man.”
Watching him walk back with a strangely stiff gait, Shengsheng Zhou looked baffled. “What’s wrong with Imperial Brother? Does his stomach hurt?”
“Perhaps,” Fusheng Duan drawled.
Shengsheng turned around again. The man before her bent slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he said with solemn sincerity, “Allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Fusheng Duan.”
*Someone rein them in. Spring hasn’t even arrived yet.*
Weiqing figured that since his “stomach hurt,” he certainly wasn’t going to intervene.
“So Noble Consort is actually a man?” Shengsheng asked.
Fusheng nodded solemnly. “I am indeed a man.”
Shengsheng suddenly found it rather funny.
The last time she had learned he was a man, he had tossed her a sword and told her to kill herself.
And now? He was openly introducing himself.
Like a peacock spreading his tail.
“I see. Then Sheng’er can’t talk to Noble Consort anymore. Sheng’er is allergic to men.” She gave him a polite but distant smile, then turned and walked over to Weiqing.
Their conversation carried clearly to Fusheng’s ears.
“Imperial Brother, what’s wrong?”
“I am fine.”
“Liar. Even the top of your shoe is dirty. Does your stomach hurt?”
“What does a dirty shoe have to do with a stomachache? Sheng’er, spare me…”
Watching the pair opposite him–noisy, yet unmistakably close–Fusheng felt shut out, standing beyond an invisible barrier.
He wanted to step forward, but Shengsheng refused to let him in.
And so time returned to the scene at the beginning.
“Imperial Brother, how much longer until we arrive?” Shengsheng asked, looking at Weiqing, who sat opposite her engrossed in a storybook.
“About three or four days,” Fusheng answered before Weiqing could speak.
“Oh.” Shengsheng replied coldly and immediately looked away, as though she had no desire to speak to him.
Caught between them in the bizarre atmosphere, Weiqing felt distinctly uncomfortable.
Dear sister, even if Fusheng Duan failed to recognize you, anyone could tell something was wrong from that attitude of yours.
Shengsheng knew she should not act this way, but she could not help herself.
Ever since she had gradually begun revealing her true nature, she had let down her guard. It was difficult to return to the days when she kept herself armored to the teeth.
Fidgeting with the tassel at her waist, Shengsheng grew irritated.
Where had Pecky disappeared to again? Xiaosui was gone too. How had she ended up alone yet again?
Watching her restless little movements, Fusheng lowered his eyes, his fingers twitching.
A tapping suddenly sounded at the window. Fusheng opened it, and a snow-white bird poked its head inside.
Shengsheng turned toward the sound.
It was Qingbai, whom she had not seen in ages!
Fusheng was clearly its master, yet after giving him no more than a glance, Qingbai flapped its wings and landed on Shengsheng’s lap.
Since it was Fusheng’s bird, Shengsheng was too embarrassed to grab it. She merely said stiffly, “Oh? Where did this bird come from?”
“I raised it. It likes you very much.”
Shengsheng looked up and collided with eyes as gentle as water. Ignoring her damned pounding heart, she nodded and lowered her head with an aloof expression–while her hands eagerly began kneading the bird.
This little fellow had refused to let her touch it before and had been terribly proud. Why was it so obedient today?
Humiliation flashed through Qingbai’s eyes as she rolled it this way and that.
This was Fusheng’s command. Endure it, Qingbai. You are the Bird King’s foremost lieutenant!
…
Yong Kingdom.
“Where is His Majesty?”
“Even Guard Li doesn’t know. How could this servant possibly know?”
Two men stood beneath the eaves, sorrow suffusing the shadows that stretched behind them in the light.
Another night of overtime awaited them.
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Fusheng Duan, who on a whim imitated Shengsheng Zhou and dotted a beauty mark on himself with cinnabar