Chapter 80
Chapter 80
“What took you so long?”
The familiar voice came from inside as soon as Shengsheng climbed into the carriage.
“This servant greets Your Grace the Noble Consort.”
After bowing, she approached with something hidden in her clothes.
“Your Grace, please use these.”
Fusheng lowered his book and glanced over, a smile touching his lips.
“Why did you bring those?”
Shengsheng looked meaningfully toward the window.
He laughed without concern. “It is somewhat noisy.”
As he spoke, his gaze repeatedly drifted toward Shengsheng’s ear.
An ordinary earring hung from her round, smooth earlobe. It was a common style. Her features were pleasant but unremarkable, while the red mole beneath her eye added a finishing stroke of beauty.
At first glance, hers was a face easily overlooked. The longer one looked, however, the more pleasing it became.
Remembering her naked body in his lap that day and how desperately she had feared he would see everything, Fusheng lowered his eyes and moved the corner of his mouth.
Shengsheng caught the expression.
*What great beauty is he thinking about to smile like that?*
Fusheng froze, then returned to his previous composure.
“Come here,” he said blandly.
Shengsheng shuffled closer in tiny steps and curtsied before him.
“What are Your Grace’s orders?”
Cool fingers caught her earlobe. The man applied slight pressure, rolling the soft flesh between them.
Electricity seemed to race through Shengsheng’s body. She covered her ear and sprang several steps backward. Forcing down her surprise, she regarded him as calmly as possible.
“Your… Your Grace?”
The tremor at the end betrayed her agitation.
Fusheng rubbed his fingers together and withdrew his hand.
“There was something dirty on it.”
Though the explanation felt strange, Shengsheng said, “Oh,” and remembered to thank him.
*That scared me to death. My entire body went numb. Help–every goose bump I own just stood up and started dancing.*
*Why did I feel nothing when Weiqing touched me, but this was like being electrocuted?*
*Wait. Fusheng touched the same side Weiqing did…*
“Tail.”
Porcelain clicked against the table, waking Shengsheng from her wild thoughts.
“What are Your Grace’s orders?”
“Pour tea.”
“Yes.”
She obediently poured it and immediately forgot the incident.
Outside, Xunlan and Lucy–no, Lu Xi–grew louder. Xunlan’s voice sounded somewhat hoarse.
“Your Grace, there is something wrong with Eunuch Xiao.”
Fusheng did not lift an eyelid. “I know.”
He chuckled softly. “Tail has grown clever.”
Having known this man from hair to heel, Shengsheng noticed his mood had improved slightly.
The villain truly was temperamental.
“Do you not intend to deal with him?”
Fusheng closed the book and pinched between his brows.
“The Empress Dowager will handle him when we return.”
At the mention of the Empress Dowager, Shengsheng relaxed. She stepped forward and massaged his head.
The current Empress Dowager had been the former emperor’s most favored consort, victor of the previous generation’s harem wars, and Xunlan’s birth mother. Logically, such a mother should favor her son.
Strangely, however, her attitude toward Fusheng was…
Far too indulgent.
If Xunlan Liu was a young devoted dog, the Empress Dowager was an old one.
She was the true reason Fusheng remained the most favored figure in the harem despite never sharing the imperial bed, never seeking an audience, and suffering terminal laziness.
Shengsheng had expected to need time adjusting after returning to Fusheng’s side. Clearly, five years as master and servant could not be shaken so easily.
He still favored bluebird patterns. His incense had not changed. Even his languid temperament remained exactly the same, utterly unlike the man who entered the ruin.
In one sentence:
Still lazy enough to die.
If he could sit, he would never stand. Food and tea might as well be delivered directly to his lips.
*My Master’s Terminal Laziness.*
The thought of the ruin rekindled Shengsheng’s curiosity. Every time Fusheng sought her out, she had been half-dead with sleep and never managed to ask about it.
Her curiosity clawed at her insides, but her expression did not change. Even the speed at which she peeled grapes remained steady.
Fusheng lifted his eyelids and glanced at her.
Assuming he wanted one, Shengsheng immediately offered the peeled grape to his lips.
Fusheng lowered his gaze to the translucent fruit between her fingers and bit it away.
As he raised his head, his lips brushed her finger, whether intentionally or not.
Shengsheng withdrew without changing expression, then wiped the finger on her clothes where he could not see.
*Does Fusheng have some sort of pure-yang constitution? Everywhere he touches feels scorched.*
Fusheng did not know what a pure-yang constitution was, but the matter of “scorching” made his brow rise slightly.
“I’m tired. You read.”
He handed her the book, reclined lazily on the couch, and closed his eyes.
Shengsheng accepted it. She knew this task well.
She had often read aloud to him in the past. In fact, Fusheng had been the one to teach her literacy.
Clearing her throat, she began.
“Favor and disgrace both bring alarm; great suffering is treasured like the self. Why do favor and disgrace bring alarm? Favor places one beneath another. Gaining it alarms us, and losing it alarms us. Why is great suffering treasured like the self? I suffer because I possess a self. Without a self, what suffering could remain? Therefore, one who values the world as the self may be entrusted with the world; one who loves the world as the self may be given its care.”
The further Shengsheng read, the stranger it felt.
Since when did Fusheng enjoy the *Tao Te Ching*?
Apart from literacy, she was essentially uneducated. But she knew this classic from her previous life. This passage discussed favor and disgrace.
Why was he reading it?
Had Xunlan’s behavior genuinely affected him?
Perhaps it had. Xunlan had always been his devoted dog. Losing favor overnight might have left Fusheng with an enormous sense of loss.
Shengsheng began reading with greater earnestness, as though determined to enlighten him completely.
Fusheng suddenly opened his eyes.
She stopped at once and asked gently, “Your Grace, what is wrong?”
He frowned slightly. “I feel unwell.”
Shengsheng put down the book and bent toward him. “Where?”
Fusheng caught her arm and pulled her down beside him, then leaned against her.
“I feel better now.”
He closed his eyes.
Shengsheng stared.
Never mind. He had lost favor. She would forgive him.
One second passed. Then two.
Hearing no inner complaint, Fusheng smiled.
Indeed, weakness had to be displayed when necessary.
He should read the *Tao Te Ching* more often.