Chapter 15: A Sudden Rescue and Lingering Fear

Xie Jue appeared at precisely the right moment, though Su Zhuozhi had no idea how or when he had entered the palace. He pulled Su Zhuozhi into his embrace, shielding him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Xie Jue thrust his sword directly at the palace maid’s neck.

The sound was not that of a blade piercing flesh and bone; the sensation was strangely off.

In a single instant, the palace maid withered and crumbled like a dying flower.

She disintegrated into fine dust, scattering with the wind.

Xie Jue’s face was cold, his eyes filled with a violent fury that surged within him, desperate for release.

The palace maid before him was merely a pawn; the greater demon lurking behind her remained perfectly concealed, leaving no trace.

Though he didn’t particularly care for Su Zhuozhi, and had even considered killing him, such an act could only be carried out by his own hand.

He would never permit anyone else to snatch away his prey.

With his eyes obscured by darkness, Su Zhuozhi could see nothing, yet his other senses were heightened, becoming incredibly acute.

He heard only vague, subtle sounds, but his imagination ran wild, conjuring terrifying images. His body trembled uncontrollably, consumed by fear.

His face was pale, his lips bitten tight. Subconsciously, he gripped the wrist beside his face, his fingertips resting upon it.

His voice was dry as he hesitantly whispered, “…Xie Jue?”

This soft call jolted Xie Jue from his wrath. His dark, deep-set eyes narrowed slightly as he looked down at the person in his arms.

The torrent of irritation within him was doused, calming considerably, as if by cool water.

Having averted the danger, he naturally had no need to continue holding Su Zhuozhi. He felt uncomfortable with such intimate contact.

Thus, Xie Jue acknowledged him with a calm, indifferent sound, then released his hold, creating distance between them.

But almost simultaneously, Su Zhuozhi clutched his arm, preventing him from backing away.

Xie Jue froze, furrowing his brow as he looked at him.

Su Zhuozhi pressed against him, his face etched with terror, wishing he could shrink down and hide within Xie Jue’s sleeve or collar.

He didn’t want to be so cowardly, but his body reacted instinctively. Since childhood, he had been terrified of malevolent spirits and evil entities.

He could scare himself simply by imagining things in the dark of night, let alone actually encountering one today. The sheer horror was extraordinary; he felt as though he might lose his mind.

Now that a familiar and reliable person had appeared, how could he possibly not cling tightly?

“Is that… that thing still there?” Su Zhuozhi buried his face in Xie Jue’s arm, not daring to glance up, his voice trembling.

Xie Jue hesitated for a rare moment, deeming it unlikely that a timid mortal, let alone a delicate young master, could accept such an event.

To avoid complications, he simply fabricated a lie, saying, “The palace maid suffered a sudden illness and has already been taken away.”

“A sudden illness?” Su Zhuozhi froze, looking up in confusion.

Xie Jue nodded. “Yes.”

His calm, unruffled expression held no hint of deceit, making his words utterly convincing. Moreover, Su Zhuozhi was more inclined to accept this explanation, subconsciously avoiding and resisting the admission that he had just encountered a ghost.

Following Xie Jue’s words, Su Zhuozhi cautiously glanced behind him. Indeed, there was nothing.

He breathed a sigh of relief, slowly releasing Xie Jue’s hand.

Xie Jue took a step, turning to leave, but then, as if remembering something, he paused and looked at Su Zhuozhi, waiting for him to walk together, lest he encounter another oblivious demon.

However, Su Zhuozhi remained motionless, showing no intention of moving.

“Young Master, are you not leaving?” Xie Jue assumed he was too stunned to recover, and so, suppressing his emotions, he prompted him.

Su Zhuozhi remained silent for a moment, his expression subtle, as if something was difficult to articulate.

Yet, he braced himself, lifting his chin and commanding with feigned arrogance and composure, “Support me.”

Xie Jue looked at the hand extended towards him, finding it somewhat absurd. This young master was becoming increasingly outrageous; was he treating him like a junior eunuch?

He scoffed inwardly, about to refuse, when he inadvertently noticed Su Zhuozhi’s slightly trembling legs… He had been so frightened that his legs had gone weak, rendering him unable to walk.

Xie Jue: “…”

Su Zhuozhi repeated his request, adopting the imperious demeanor of a young master. However, without a bronze mirror nearby, he couldn’t see his own appearance:

His eyes were tinged red, misty and wet, like those of a pleading kitten. Even when feigning anger, he seemed to be pouting, making him incredibly difficult to refuse.

Ultimately, Xie Jue silently extended his hand, supporting him, and for a moment, became a stoic “junior eunuch.”

But this was not the end.

Upon reaching the palace gates, a strange junior eunuch eagerly brought over a cherry milk dessert, a smile on his face, about to speak.

Su Zhuozhi, however, instinctively hid behind Xie Jue, avoiding the man.

In a voice only they could hear, Su Zhuozhi whispered, “I’m scared… No, I’m worried he might have the same illness.”

Xie Jue’s mouth twitched; he was somewhat speechless. “Young Master, he’s fine.”

‘Really?’

Su Zhuozhi hesitated, clutching Xie Jue’s arm, and cautiously peeked out from behind him. Seeing the junior eunuch’s bewildered and helpless expression, as if he thought he had done something wrong, Su Zhuozhi tentatively asked, “Young Master Su? What’s wrong?”

Su Zhuozhi quickly checked the eunuch’s shadow; it was normal.

His heart, which had been racing, slowly settled.

He waved his hand. “Nothing.”

Then, he prepared to nimbly mount his horse and rush home, unwilling to remain any longer in the eerie, unsettling palace.

But he tried to mount… and couldn’t! His legs were too weak to exert any strength!

At that moment, Su Zhuozhi was so embarrassed he wished for a crack in the ground to swallow him whole.

The junior eunuch, ever perceptive, respectfully asked, “Is Young Master feeling unwell? This servant can arrange a carriage for you.”

Arranging a carriage would mean another wait, preventing an immediate departure. Su Zhuozhi rejected the offer without a second thought, asking Xie Jue to help him.

Xie Jue stood by the side of the magnificent horse as requested. When Su Zhuozhi attempted to mount again, he supported his thigh, providing the leverage needed for him to settle onto the saddle.

Perhaps due to the delay, or because animals acutely sensed the danger within the palace, Cherry Nectar suddenly stamped its hooves restlessly.

Caught off guard by the sudden jolt, Su Zhuozhi’s body lurched, and he nearly fell from the horse.

Fortunately, Xie Jue hadn’t left. With quick reflexes, he reached out, steadying him just in time.

Su Zhuozhi felt dizzy and disoriented, his forehead covered in cold sweat from his earlier fright by the strange palace maid.

His dark hair was damp and clung to his face, and his clothes stuck to his skin at the back. A breeze sent shivers of cold through him.

He felt drained, his voice soft. “…Thank you.”

But Xie Jue didn’t hear him. In his momentary, instinctive act of support, his hand had brushed against the soft, rounded curve of Su Zhuozhi’s lower waist.

The incredibly soft touch instantly captivated all his thoughts. By the time he finally regained his senses, a strange restlessness surged within him, even a hint of self-loathing and disgust.

Xie Jue’s face darkened. He mounted the other horse, gripping the reins, and rode behind Su Zhuozhi.

Initially, Su Zhuozhi managed to summon enough energy to guide his horse.

But halfway back, his head began to ache and throb, the entire world seeming to shake and sway around him. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, constantly drooping, sticking to his lower lashes. He felt drowsy, and his body inexplicably alternated between hot and cold, causing him immense discomfort.

Eventually, he could resist no longer. His vision blurred, his hand gripping the reins slackened, and his body slumped to one side.

Xie Jue, noticing his abnormality, placed his foot in the stirrup, pushed off the saddle with one hand, and effortlessly leaped up.

In the blink of an eye, he landed behind Su Zhuozhi, promptly grabbing the reins to prevent the horse from losing control.

Because of this movement, Xie Jue’s arms inevitably wrapped around the young master’s slender waist, as if embracing him. Su Zhuozhi, having lost consciousness, naturally couldn’t keep his back straight.

He could only lean back powerlessly, softly resting against Xie Jue’s chest, making their proximity even more intimate.

As the horse swayed forward, the fine, soft strands of Su Zhuozhi’s hair continuously brushed against Xie Jue’s jaw, creating a persistent, irritating itch that was difficult to endure.

Xie Jue’s eyes darkened, his arm muscles tensed, veins bulging.

A sudden fire ignited in his heart, angered by the uselessness of the great demon in the palace. It had dared to attack Su Zhuozhi, yet lacked the ability to kill him, instead cowardly leaving behind its demonic energy, creating a mess for him to clean up.

That night, as expected, Su Zhuozhi fell ill.

He lay in the canopy bed, his forehead covered in glistening sweat, his cheeks flushed with a sickly redness, and his lips pale and bloodless.

The young man who had been as vibrant as sunlight during the day now resembled a wilting rose, devoid of life and on the verge of fading. His extremely weak appearance sent a shiver through anyone who saw him, evoking both pity and heartache.

Xie Jue had initially intended to ignore the trace of demonic energy on Su Zhuozhi. It would merely cause some suffering, gradually dissipating over time, posing no threat to his life.

However, Su Zhuozhi was alarmingly fragile, as if he might perish at any moment.

Xie Jue entered the room silently, his face grim. Qingping, who was on night watch, showed no reaction, as if he couldn’t see him at all.

He stopped before the canopy bed, slowly extended his hand, and probed with his fingertips at the back of Su Zhuozhi’s neck.

He then sharply clenched his hand in the air, grasping an invisible fine thread in his palm. He released a wisp of demonic energy, wrapping it tightly around the thread.

Instantly, the thin thread snapped, turning to ash, leaving only a deep, grooved blood-mark on his palm.

This was the injury from forcefully stripping away demonic energy, but Xie Jue’s expression remained unchanged. Demonic energy coursed beneath his skin, covering his palm like spider silk, enveloping the exposed flesh.

The wound healed at a visible rate, vanishing without a trace.

After the demonic energy was removed, Su Zhuozhi’s tightly furrowed brows relaxed somewhat. Despite being feverish and delirious, he seemed to sense that someone nearby had alleviated his pain.

Before Xie Jue could withdraw his hand, Su Zhuozhi gently grasped it. He buried his face in Xie Jue’s palm, rubbing against it affectionately, like a kitten seeking comfort, making him incredibly endearing.

Xie Jue watched, a small, unconscious curve forming on his lips as he smiled. By the time he came to his senses, he had been staring at Su Zhuozhi for quite some time.

Realizing this, his expression instantly darkened, becoming extremely grim.

A fierce flame ignited in his heart, a never-before-felt surge of anxiety and malevolence.

He realized that he had initially intended to kill the person from the prophecy, yet now he felt as though he had stepped into a sticky, muddy swamp, falling into some unknown, terrifying trap.

He utterly loathed this feeling, and even felt a strange, inexplicable fear.

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