Their eyes met, and the room fell into a moment of silence.
Anyone could detect the sarcasm in Ji Yuluo’s words.
Huo Xian lowered his gaze and smiled without responding. He walked over, looked at the porcelain bowl in front of her, and asked, “Is the porridge good?”
Ji Yuluo wasn’t the type to cling to matters or demand explanations, especially since she understood there was no explanation to be had. They each had their own agendas.
She responded with a lukewarm “Hmm,” and then packed up the food box, saying, “I’ve instructed Liyang to invite a doctor, just in case there’s any discomfort from a clash between the medicine and the poison. Since everything has been delivered, I’ll be leaving now.”
As she brushed past Huo Xian’s hand, it was suddenly grabbed. Ji Yuluo frowned and turned her head, hearing Huo Xian say, “The Imperial Stud just received a new batch of warhorses. I’m planning to add a few more to the Jinyiwei. Want to come with me to choose some? They’re at the Imperial Stud in Lihua Mountain. We can still make it out of the city.”
Ji Yuluo paused, wondering why she should go, but was promptly pulled along by Huo Xian. He led her straight out the door and brought out two horses from the stable.
–
Passing through the bustling market, where the air was thick with people and nightly wish lanterns filled the sky, it was novel at first, but after several days, it lost its novelty.
The two rode their horses slowly, making their way through the crowd towards the city gate.
The soldiers at the gate, after checking their waist tags, quickly allowed them to pass.
Once outside the city, the horses could run freely. Lihua Mountain was still some distance away, and halfway there, Ji Yuluo still couldn’t figure out why he insisted on choosing horses at night.
At this hour, even the officials of the Imperial Stud would have ended their duties.
Suddenly, Huo Xian, who was a step ahead, stopped under a banyan tree. Ji Yuluo caught up, “What’s wrong?”
Huo Xian lifted his chin to indicate the distant tower on the mountain, the location of the Imperial Stud; they were almost there.
He said, “Shall we race to see who gets there first?”
Ji Yuluo glanced at Huo Xian, then at the tower. She was still bitter about being slightly inferior to him in skill, and tonight she was not in the best of moods. Without thinking, she grabbed the reins and dashed off.
Huo Xian was momentarily stunned, then laughed silently, and chased after her with a whip. He shouted, “Ahead is a dense forest with low branches, be careful not to get scratched. This is just for fun, no need to be too serious.”
His voice was carried away by the wind, but Ji Yuluo paid no mind. She watched the shadow catching up to her from the corner of her eye, whipped her horse again, and felt a surge of exhilaration as the wind rushed past her.
However, she had already witnessed Huo Xian’s riding skills on their wedding day. He could speed through crowds, and now on the open mountain road, he was like a gust of wind, his body low and his robes fluttering, quickly catching up to her.
Ji Yuluo’s brows slightly furrowed. She glanced sideways at Huo Xian, who also looked over with a smile. She pressed her lips together and pushed harder, quickly reaching the dense forest Huo Xian mentioned.
Beyond this forest, the Imperial Stud was not far.
The branches of the trees in the forest were indeed low and densely foliaged, making it easy for a rider to get their clothes caught and their skin scratched when passing through.
Ji Yuluo suddenly had an idea. She broke off a branch and threw it at Huo Xian like a sword. Huo Xian reined in his horse to dodge, and Ji Yuluo took the opportunity to enter the dense forest ahead of him. She then grabbed a bunch of branches and, after running some distance, let go. The branches snapped back like a giant net towards Huo Xian and his horse. Fortunately, Huo Xian ducked just in time to avoid being caught.
He laughed in exasperation.
Just as he was steadying himself, another whip came from ahead.
Huo Xian leaned back, quickly grabbing the whip and pulling it back, causing Ji Yuluo to wobble. She looked back at him, tightening her grip, trying to reclaim the whip.
Huo Xian refused to let go.
They tussled back and forth, drawing closer to each other.
Breathlessly, Huo Xian said, “Your tactics in this competition are quite underhanded, aren’t they, Miss Yuluo?”
Ji Yuluo replied, “I’m not you; I don’t need to be honorable.”
As they spoke, the distance between them shrank, their legs almost brushing against each other.
Ji Yuluo suddenly released the whip, attacking Huo Xian’s upper body instead. The sound of their clothes rustling filled the air as they grappled.
Neither paid attention to where their horses were heading. When they looked up, two large trees stood in their path, and they were about to collide. Both quickly let go and reined in their horses. With a startled neigh, the horses reared, and the riders leapt off, rolling onto the grassy ground.
Exhausted, Ji Yuluo lay on the grass, breathing heavily. Surrounded by green trees, the only sky visible was a narrow strip above, where a half-moon hung on the treetop, swaying as if about to fall.
Her temples were damp, but she felt a sense of relief. It dawned on her that Huo Xian hadn’t come to choose horses but to race them.
After such a wild ride, any lingering frustration had dissipated.
A low chuckle sounded from beside her.
Huo Xian, catching his breath, covered his eyes with his palm and said, “With your competitive nature… a few years ago, one of us wouldn’t have survived.”
After speaking, he lay on his side, propping his head up and supporting himself with one arm. He removed a leaf from Ji Yuluo’s hair and pointed to a scratch on his neck, saying, “That was harsh.”
It was a short scratch, probably caused by the branches she had let go, a tiny wound. Ji Yuluo looked up at him.
Huo Xian let her gaze at him, then said, “What are you thinking about, staring at me like that?”
Ji Yuluo moved her gaze from his wound to his face and asked, “Why did you say a few years ago? I heard you were very competitive before, always striving to be the best. Why not now?”
Huo Xian assumed she had heard this from Lou Panshun and smiled. He placed his hand behind his head and lay back, saying, “In my youth, I was reckless, always wanting to be the best in everyone’s eyes. Being born a concubine’s son, my birth mother’s methods were disgraceful, so my father… the Marquis of Xuanping, never liked me. Back then, I wanted to outshine my elder brother, to show that I was better than him.”
As he spoke, Huo Xian seemed amused by his youthful thoughts, his brows arching with a faint smile. His hands and feet were not idle as he turned sideways, pulling Ji Yuluo into his arms. Ji Yuluo struggled briefly but was soon pressed against his chest.
Giving up her struggle, she asked, “So, is it because Huo Jue died?”
Of course not.
Huo Xian had been competitive from a young age, partly due to Huo Jue, but he didn’t start restraining himself just because Huo Jue was no longer around. On the contrary, after Huo Jue’s death, the stewards and nannies often favored Huo Cong. They would say that even if Huo Cong was a sickly child, Huo Xian could never surpass him.
These words infuriated Huo Xian, making him even more competitive than before, much to the frustration of the Marquis of Xuanping.
It was this very attitude that caught Zhao Yong’s attention.
Later, Emperor Chenghe sought him out.
Emperor Chenghe had been in good health, but during that period, he frequently fell ill and had to suspend court. He repeatedly tested Huo Xian’s character. Even until the end, the emperor couldn’t fully trust him. However, as his health declined, he had no other choice.
The young and helpless emperor clung to the only straw he could find, pulling Huo Xian to his side with almost desperate pleading.
As twilight descended, the swaying shadows of the trees resembled a giant beast, threatening to devour the world.
Huo Xian squinted at the crescent moon, his fingers entwined in Ji Yuluo’s soft black hair. He said, “He said—”
Pale and disheveled, he sat on his sickbed, laughing madly and saying, “It’s useless. In this chaotic world, reigning supreme is futile. Even if you reach the pinnacle, it’s just an empty title. Your fate is in others’ hands, and you’ll spend your life in turmoil, with no security… Even I, the emperor, can’t escape becoming a victim to their knives. No one, no one can escape!”
Huo Xian closed his eyes slowly, listening to the wind in the forest. He could almost recall Emperor Chenghe’s appearance, suffering from illness for two years. In those final two years, he did everything he could to pave the way for Huo Xian. In his twenties, his hair had turned half-white, wilting day by day like a flower. Before he died, he held Huo Xian’s hand and said, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”
Reaching that point in his life had cost Emperor Chenghe countless efforts and lives.
These lives became the shackles binding Huo Xian.
He often felt that this might have been deliberately arranged by Emperor Chenghe. The young emperor was skilled in calculations, with no fewer schemes than others.
But he succeeded.
Ji Yuluo remained silent, listening to Huo Xian’s heartbeat, steady and strong, like a powerful war drum.
The two of them were so quiet that they almost seemed to fall asleep. After a long while, Ji Yuluo finally spoke, “Does it have to be Prince Ning who ascends the throne?”
Huo Xian didn’t respond, but his fingers paused momentarily in her hair. He neither confirmed nor denied it, finally lowering his head to say, “The night is so beautiful, let’s talk about something else.”
Ji Yuluo pulled her head out of his embrace, her hair now disheveled. She looked at him and said, “Then I’ll ask something else.”
Huo Xian made a gesture of listening attentively, and Ji Yuluo, with a probing look, asked, “There are many types of Gu poison. What kind do you have in your body? Will the Gu worms go out of control during intercourse, causing you to die suddenly?”
It wasn’t surprising that Ji Yuluo asked this. In this world, there was indeed such Gu poison. When the person poisoned became emotionally excited, the Gu worms would also become excited, causing the poison to spread, with disastrous consequences.
She had wanted to ask about this for a long time, but since Huo Xian hadn’t openly discussed the Gu poison with her, she hadn’t had the chance to inquire.
Only with this understanding could many things make sense. Ji Yuluo’s expression was extremely serious.
Their eyes met, and Huo Xian remained silent.
Lust could be a weakness and a poison for someone trying to cultivate self-restraint. To Zhao Yong, it would be of no benefit, so Ji Yuluo’s guess was entirely impossible.
Huo Xian opened his mouth, “…”
His expression changed several times before he suddenly covered Ji Yuluo’s eyes with his hand, almost gritting his teeth as he said, “Whatever you say, let it be.”
