PCA Chapter 162

“So it is indeed like this.” Su Cen gently pursed his lips. He had already guessed Song Fan’s identity when he overheard the two talking, and now that it was confirmed, he couldn’t help but feel moved.

 

A crazy father who dreams of being emperor every day has raised a crazy son who thinks he’s a crown prince every day.

 

“Then what about Song Yi?” Su Cen asked. “Why is he helping you?”

 

“For that, we naturally have to thank your short-lived former Emperor Li Xun,” Lu Xun said while collecting the chess pieces. “Years ago, the young marquis of the Ding’an Marquis Manor died, but because Li Xun ascended the throne and issued a general amnesty, the murderer was sent back to his hometown. Song Yi, that old coward, didn’t dare to oppose the new emperor, and that coincidentally pushed him to us.”

 

“Using the pretext of avenging the young marquis, you entered Lu Family Village with Lu Xiaoliu, yet you slaughtered over two hundred lives in the village!” Su Cen’s chest heaved slightly. The 287 bodies in the Mount Meng cave all died from broken throat bones—they were strangled to death!

 

Lu Xun smiled indifferently, “A group of ignorant commoners, not worth pitying.”

 

“Then what is worth pitying? The young marquis? Your precious son?!” Su Cen’s gaze was pained, and he tasted a strong metallic flavor in his throat. Some people trek mountains and cross waters for a single life, risking everything to give justice to the living and peace to the dead, while others view lives as worthless weeds, killing without even blinking.

 

“This is just how the world is—the strong prey on the weak, it’s the natural order. When you stand at the highest point, seeing these people as no different from ants, who cares how many ants they step on in a day?” Lu Xun, unusually in good spirits, patiently explained to Su Cen. “Li Shi has been fighting on battlefields for years; the lives on his hands are far more than mine. Why don’t you go ask him if those lives are worth pitying?”

 

“You’re not worthy,” Su Cen said.

 

“What?” Lu Xun frowned.

 

Su Cen raised his head and enunciated each word: “You’re not worthy to compare with him.”

 

In the next moment, Su Cen felt a gust of wind rushing to his face, a pain in his chest, and a palm sent him flying, causing the carved dragon screen to crash down.

 

Su Cen’s vision darkened, and a sweet metallic taste rose in his throat. Before he could recover, a hand grabbed his neck and lifted him into the air.

 

Lu Xun’s eyes held a bloodthirsty cold light, “Say that again.”

 

Su Cen’s throat moved, but he ultimately refrained from speaking. He could feel his neck trembling slightly under the man’s hand, knowing that one more word would lead to the same fate as the 287 lives in Lu Family Village.

 

In this deadlock, Su Cen couldn’t breathe and could only claw desperately at that hand that seemed forged from iron. Blood vessels filled his eyes, which began to roll back as he was about to lose consciousness when Lu Xun finally released him.

 

Su Cen collapsed to his knees, and as his throat was freed, air rushed in, making him cough desperately as if his life depended on it.

 

“What is Li Shi anyway,” Lu Xun exclaimed with a wave of his sleeve, “Nothing but a gang of liars, a band of thieves, petty villains! He’s the one not worthy of being mentioned alongside me!”

 

Su Cen thought to himself, then why do you compare yourself to him from morning till night?

 

Lu Xun’s anger had not subsided. He grabbed a cup of cold tea to quell his rage when a person in black entered to report: the traitor had been caught.

 

Su Cen’s body suddenly stiffened.

 

The Secret Door’s traitor, could it be…

 

Ling’er had already left Lu Family Village before Lu Xun returned, so how could they have caught him?

 

Lu Xun nodded, “Bring him in.”

 

Soon, a middle-aged man in a blue robe entered, followed by two men in black holding a person on either side. That person’s head hung low, hands bound behind his back, looking as if he had barely any life left in him.

 

Only when the person was thrown to the ground could Su Cen see clearly that it was a half-grown youth. Behind his disheveled hair was an immature face. His frame was just reaching maturity, still carrying a sense of youthful fragility, about the same age as Qu Ling’er.

 

That face, still bearing traces of childishness, was covered in bruises, and his clothes were tattered. Through the torn fabric, one could see the dried blood crusting over his frail ribs.

 

Su Cen secretly let out a sigh of relief—at least it wasn’t Qu Ling’er.

 

The man in blue reported: “It was my oversight that allowed a spy to infiltrate. I deserve death for my crime. I’ve already severely punished him, severing the tendons in his hands and feet. He can never leave the Secret Door in this lifetime… could the Gate Master spare his life?”

 

The young man crawled forward, lifting his face, which had a pitiful beauty to it, though it was streaked with tears and mucus. Without hands to wipe them away, he could only bang his head on the ground, crying and begging: “I was coerced, I’ll never dare again. Please spare me, Gate Master, I’ll never dare again…”

 

Lu Xun was unmoved by this tearful display. He glanced sideways at the blue-robed man, “Is this your man?”

 

The blue-robed man pressed his lips tightly, looking at the young man’s eager gaze, and after a long pause, nodded, “Yes.”

 

Just as the young man let out a breath of relief, in the next instant, there was a flash of cold light and blood splattered across the hall.

 

The young man’s mouth gaped in disbelief, but he could only cough up a few bloody bubbles before convulsing several times and then going still.

 

Su Cen stood frozen, his face stained with warm blood. Though the warmth still remained, the person was already gone.

 

Lu Xun sheathed his sword, “I don’t care whose person he is; betraying the Secret Door has only one outcome.”

 

The blue-robed man immediately prostrated himself, “Gate Master, spare me!”

 

Lu Xun patted the blue-robed man’s shoulder, saying casually: “I know the Secret Door has lost quite a few men in recent years, but that doesn’t mean any defective goods can join. Next time something like this happens, it will be you lying here.”

 

The blue-robed man immediately acknowledged.

 

“You may go.”

 

The blue-robed man bowed and retreated. Just as he reached the door, Lu Xun called him back, “Take your man with you.”

 

The blue-robed man looked back at the now cold corpse, waved his hand, and the two men in black dragged the body out just as they had brought it in.

 

Only a pool of brilliant red remained in the courtyard, which was quickly cleaned up by the servants.

 

Lu Xun took a white cloth to wipe the blood from Su Cen’s face, smiling lightly: “Scared?”

 

Su Cen slowly came back to his senses. He had seen all sorts of corpses, but in his life, he had only seen two people kill right in front of him.

 

One was Lu Xun, the other was Song Fan.

 

“He’s no longer a threat to you.”

 

“He might not be a threat, but I found him annoying, so why keep him around to irritate myself?” Lu Xun carefully wiped the blood from Su Cen’s face. The blood had dried and was difficult to remove. His own hands were still bloody, so the more he wiped, the dirtier it became, turning half of Su Cen’s face red without getting it clean.

 

Su Cen stepped back, taking the cloth from Lu Xun’s hand, “I’ll do it myself.”

 

Lu Xun pulled on the chain hanging from Su Cen’s hand, making him stumble forward a few steps, forcing him close.

 

“Has Li Shi ever told you that you look good in red?” Lu Xun pressed his blood-stained hand to Su Cen’s lips, a touch of crimson. Like white snow with a jade-like complexion, a bright pearl dotting crimson lips. Lu Xun smiled lightly, “Much better looking than your cold appearance.”

 

The salty, metallic taste entered his mouth, and Su Cen frowned slightly, his tongue pressed firmly against his teeth, but he still felt that bloody smell seeping through his teeth crevices, pervading his mouth.

 

Su Cen fainted the next morning. While serving food to Lu Xun, his vision went black, and he lost consciousness. He hadn’t had a drop of water for two days, hadn’t slept, and had been forced to match wits with Lu Xun. It was a miracle he had lasted this long.

 

Lu Xun continued eating without even looking up. After finishing, he ordered his servants to throw Su Cen into the fish pond at Tingfang Garden to wake him up.

 

Su Cen awoke after choking on a large mouthful of water, then nearly drowned as the iron chains weighed him down, making it hard to surface. After struggling for a long time, he finally crawled out, too exhausted to move anymore.

 

An unknown amount of time passed before the light before his eyes was blocked by a dark shadow.

 

Su Cen opened his eyes to see a pair of profound eyes.

 

For a moment, he was entranced, wanting to touch those eyes.

 

Halfway through raising his hand, it fell limply back down. That person was thousands of miles away, while he was imprisoned, not even knowing if he would make it out alive. How could he dare to hope for anything more?

 

Su Cen closed his eyes, “Whether you want to kill me or torture me, do as you please. There’s no need for all this trouble.”

 

“But you’re quite mistaken,” Lu Xun smiled lightly, taking a bowl from the maid behind him. As he stirred it with a spoon, the sweet fragrance of lotus leaf mingled with the fresh aroma of glutinous rice slowly spread.

 

Su Cen’s throat moved slightly.

 

Lu Xun withdrew the bowl, “If you want to eat, come here.”

 

Su Cen lingered on the ground a while longer before getting up. If death was inevitable, he wouldn’t struggle against it, but as long as there was a glimmer of hope, he would never give up.

 

Lu Xun led him to a flower hall, placed the porridge in front of him, and said, “Same rule as before: curse ‘Li Shi is a bastard’ once for each bite. If I’m satisfied with your cursing, you can take another bite.”

 

Why was this man so fixated on Li Shi? Su Cen frowned, thinking he would have to embarrass the Prince again. Taking a deep breath, he summoned the energy of a market-woman’s tirade: “Li Shi is a bastard!”

 

Lu Xun raised an eyebrow and smiled, “Eat.”

 

Su Cen took a spoonful of lotus leaf porridge into his mouth—sweet, fresh, and soft—nearly biting his tongue.

 

As his stomach warmed, his strength returned. Su Cen gathered his energy and shouted again: “Li Shi is a bastard!”

 

“Eat.”

 

Having eaten more than half the bowl without Lu Xun causing any trouble, Su Cen was satisfied but also found it ridiculous. No matter how nastily he cursed, Li Shi was far away in Chang’an and couldn’t hear or know. This man entertaining himself daily like this—it was hard to say whether it was pathetic or pitiful.

 

Su Cen summoned all his strength to curse once more. Just as he took another mouthful of porridge, the tightly closed door was suddenly pushed open.

 

Su Cen looked up sharply, the porridge getting stuck in his throat, nearly choking into his lungs.

 

A hand adorned with a dark jade thumb ring slowly withdrew. The newcomer calmly surveyed the room, finally resting his gaze on Su Cen, “Having a good time, I see.”

 

 

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