Chapter 22: Retribution and Metamorphosis

Xie Jue forcibly suppressed the surging demonic energy.

This demonic energy was a part of him, but it did not always obey his control.

Once, when killing intent had consumed all his thoughts and reason collapsed, the demonic energy had run amok.

Now, because Su Zhuozhi had come to harm right under his nose, a sudden ferocity arose within him, an abnormal rage.

First the demonic energy, then a mortal.

How could so many insects dare to lay a hand on Su Zhuozhi?

It made him want to trap the person tightly, isolate him from the outside world, so that no one could ever look at Su Zhuozhi again.

Only he could look.

Xie Jue’s deep gaze slowly turned cold, his jawline tense. He considered himself calm, rational, with an exceptionally clear mind. The temporary rampage of the demonic energy had not exceeded his expectations.

Su Zhuozhi might be useful to him. The thing he had his eyes on had almost been touched by others—an insult to his abilities. Getting angry was only natural.

Other than that, there were no other thoughts.

Xie Jue stood expressionless, silently staring at the person on the bed. Su Zhuozhi was curled up in discomfort, his eyes unfocused, breathing rapidly, sweat-soaked hair sticking to his cheeks. He looked pitiful, tortured by the drug.

After a moment.

Xie Jue leaned down and reached out, as if wanting to touch him.

But Su Zhuozhi, due to the maid’s malicious intent, was on high alert. Sensing the dark shadow approaching, he immediately recoiled and, in panic, slapped the hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

Yet his body was weak and limp, unable even to make a simple push. This slap, which he thought was forceful, was as light as a feather, carrying no intimidation.

Xie Jue only felt a scorching heat glide across the back of his hand, both hot and itchy.

He frowned, clenched his hand, and his voice carried a hint of irritation at being avoided. “Look clearly at who I am.”

Su Zhuozhi’s reactions were slow. After a few seconds, he raised his head, half-opening his moist, hazy eyes to identify the person. When he finally recognized the face before him, he relaxed and let out a faint, trembling sob, as if, amidst deep danger and fear, he had found someone he could trust and rely on.

Xie Jue’s expression shifted slightly, his lips tightening. He didn’t want to delay further, thinking he should hoist the person up and carry him away to minimize contact.

But Su Zhuozhi, in his daze, first reached out his hands toward him, his voice hoarse: “…Let’s leave this place quickly.”

Xie Jue’s hand paused in midair, and then involuntarily obeyed the command, as if controlled. Or perhaps, deep down, this was what he had wanted to do.

He pulled the brocade quilt and quickly wrapped the young master up entirely, sitting him on one arm like a child. But Su Zhuozhi was completely limp, unable to support himself, so Xie Jue had to secure one hand under his knee and the other on his back, making him lean against his shoulder.

Inevitably, their chests pressed tightly together, separated only by clothing and a layer of Shu brocade. The luxurious silk was incredibly soft, smooth to the touch, yet it couldn’t block the scorching body heat. Xie Jue felt like he was holding a small stove, and his hearing was exceptionally sharp, making every breath in his ear distinctly clear and unsettling.

Xie Jue strode quickly out of the side room and headed toward the gate, wanting to rid himself of the person in his arms as soon as possible.

But the Ministry of Revenue’s mansion was vast, with many courtyards and numerous servants. The walk to the gate was a considerable distance, and they would inevitably encounter many servants along the way. And Su Zhuozhi’s current state was best not seen by others.

Hearing footsteps approaching not far ahead, Xie Jue decisively ducked into a nearby rockery, a crevice just large enough for one person to hide.

The space was narrow. As Xie Jue entered, he instinctively shielded Su Zhuozhi’s head with his hand to prevent him from bumping it. This gesture was so natural that even he didn’t notice anything amiss.

At that moment, Su Zhuozhi’s breath grew even hotter. He bit his lip, moving his body restlessly but finding no relief. Then, as if feeling breathless, he tilted his head back, trying to push away the Shu brocade covering his head to get more fresh air.

Xie Jue felt a soft strand of hair brush against his palm, ticklish, forcing him to move his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he lifted the brocade a little for the person in his arms. This inexplicably reminded him of a bridegroom lifting the red silk veil from a bride’s head.

As he breathed in, the sweet scent of wine spread, intoxicating even Xie Jue, as if he were getting drunk. He felt irritated, almost wanting to go out and kill the passing servant.

Su Zhuozhi’s forehead was covered in sweat, his neck damp and sticky, black hair clinging to pink-hued skin.

The demonic energy slipped out again, moving silently.

It condensed into a vague human form, reached out with both hands to cup Su Zhuozhi’s face, leaned in, and cautiously sniffed. The faint scent of alcohol and sweetness entered its nose, sending it into a quivering excitement.

But it was like a vicious dog chained by the neck, wanting to rush over and devour the delicious prey, yet forcibly held back.

It could only sniff gingerly, brushing aside the damp hair sticking to Su Zhuozhi’s neck, hoping to bring him some cool relief. But the mere touch caused him to tremble—the sharp temperature contrast was a significant shock to him.

A drop of hot sweat slid down.

Su Zhuozhi unconsciously leaned forward, trying to touch that coolness again.

But before he could, Xie Jue abruptly lifted it onto his shoulder, hiding it away again.

The demonic energy became furious, roiling like storm clouds in a downpour, eager to devour Xie Jue, snatch the treasure, and claim it.

Yet, because his face was forced against the shoulder, Su Zhuozhi couldn’t breathe, letting out a whimper.

Both the demonic energy and Xie Jue froze.

Xie Jue loosened his hold, allowing Su Zhuozhi to lift his head and breathe.

The demonic energy circled the porcelain-doll-like treasure, flustered and at a loss. It touched his hair, poked his earlobe, then gently nudged his cheek.

Like a dog.

Xie Jue frowned, disgusted.

He never knew his demonic energy could be so foolish.

Finally unable to bear it, he withdrew it completely.

Just then, the servants outside had gone far, and they could leave.

This time, Xie Jue was careful to avoid people, successfully making his way to the vermilion gate. He found the young master’s carriage and said coldly, “Return to the mansion immediately.”

His commanding tone made the driver pause, then unconsciously obey. A moment later, coming to his senses, he found it strange: this guard wasn’t the master, so why had he listened to him?

Xie Jue carried the person into the carriage and tried to set him down, but felt resistance—Su Zhuozhi’s fingers were clutching his lapels, unwilling to let go.

Xie Jue paused.

The carriage suddenly lurched forward, swaying. To avoid dropping the person, he sat down first, and Su Zhuozhi ended up sitting on his lap, adding another point of close contact.

Xie Jue frowned even deeper, as if deeply averse and resistant.

But Su Zhuozhi couldn’t see that, unaware. In his confused state, he didn’t want to leave Xie Jue, only because he felt Xie Jue’s body was cool and comfortable to touch. He couldn’t help but rub his hot cheek against Xie Jue’s neck.

Xie Jue instantly stiffened, his whole body tense like a sword about to be drawn.

Su Zhuozhi was burning up, eyes tightly shut in pain, hair damp at the temples, long lashes wet and sticking together, red lips slightly open, exhaling hot, moist breath all over Xie Jue’s skin, stirring up an unbearable itch. Even worse, with his movement, his lips brushed faintly against Xie Jue’s neck, like a light kiss.

Xie Jue pressed his lips together, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. The back of his hand on Su Zhuozhi’s back bulged with veins, as if he wanted to throw the person out. But in reality, he stood frozen, as if under a binding spell.

The culprit causing him such great trouble was already exhausted from fighting the drug’s effects, unable to spare a single thought to understand what he had done.

Intense desire spread like ripples from a fingertip touching water, expanding endlessly. Su Zhuozhi clutched his fingers, his body trembling, letting out a vague moan. This sound brought him back to reality, and he struggled to regain a bit of clarity.

He swallowed, trying to moisten his dry throat, his voice extremely hoarse: “…Put me down.”

The weak voice struck Xie Jue like a thunderbolt. He abruptly grasped Su Zhuozhi’s waist, then, coming to his senses, set him down on the opposite couch as if he were a hot potato.

Su Zhuozhi slowly curled up, his limbs flushed a strange red like a boiled shrimp, his face and neck even more severe. He had asked Xie Jue to let him go because he was afraid that if he continued, he might do something irreparable out of greed for the coolness of Xie Jue’s body.

The fire burning inside him was so intense it seemed to boil him into a thick syrup, soft and melting. If he didn’t curl up, he felt he would flow away.

He bit his lip, suppressing the whimper deep in his throat, unwilling to show his helplessness. He tried to think of serious matters, like who had drugged him to ruin his reputation. He would never let that person off!

Su Zhuozhi thought he was hiding his suffering well, but to Xie Jue, he looked like a kitten drenched in rain, ears drooping, letting out pitiful mews, utterly pathetic.

Xie Jue slowly looked away, composed his expression, and took a deep breath, staring calmly at the carriage wall, forcing himself not to focus on the other’s condition. After all, the person had been rescued; he had done what was necessary. The rest was none of his concern.

But back at the Su mansion, Su Zhuozhi could barely even sit up, let alone walk back on his own. He still needed Xie Jue to carry him. The Shu brocade draped over Su Zhuozhi was long, covering his feet and more, wrapping him entirely, revealing only a small part of his face as he lay heavily on Xie Jue’s shoulder. No one could see any part of him.

Xie Jue lowered his eyes at the sight, and a strange feeling surged in his heart, indescribable.

Qingping and Wanying, seeing Xie Jue carrying the young master back, were startled and anxiously circled around. “What happened? Is the young master ill? Why… Doctor, I’ll go get a doctor!”

Qingping snapped out of it, worried and flustered, and hurried off.

When the doctor took the pulse and determined it was due to a drug, Qingping and Wanying were even more furious. Which shameless person would frame the young master like this! They wanted to charge out and kill the culprit!

Something occurred to Qingping, and he lowered his voice. “Now that it’s like this… Wanying, you should help the young master?”

The top-ranked maid at a noble son’s side was usually a potential concubine. But not at the Su mansion. Wanying was well aware and had no improper ambitions; she sincerely regarded the young master as her master.

Hearing Qingping’s words, she paused and blushed, stammering rarely, “This, this is inappropriate…”

Xie Jue suddenly spoke, coldly interrupting: “Sexual intercourse is not necessary to neutralize the drug. A cold bath is sufficient.”

The doctor nodded in agreement. “The guard is right. Intercourse is the fastest method, but the young master has a small dose. A cold bath and self-resolution will work. He is young; after drinking some warming tonic, he will recover quickly.”

“That’s great!” Both Qingping and Wanying sighed in relief and quickly called for a servant to prepare a bucket of cold water. Since the bath was filled with hot water, it took time to replace it.

Meanwhile, Qingping learned that when Xie Jue rescued the young master, there was a maid nearby. He shuddered at the thought. “Thank goodness you arrived in time, or the young master might have had to marry that maid. You don’t know, the Su family tradition is to marry only one wife, no concubines. That would have ruined the young master’s chance to marry someone he loves.”

“Marry her?” Xie Jue’s face darkened, as if unable to comprehend. “Marry someone who plotted against him?”

Qingping said matter-of-factly, “Even if it wasn’t intentional, a man who takes a woman’s virginity must take responsibility… Wait, was that maid also one of the conspirators?”

Xie Jue nodded.

Qingping couldn’t help but spit in contempt, grinding his teeth. “So vicious! I was just pitying her, thinking she was innocently implicated. How dare she covet the young master! She deserves to die along with the puppet master!”

The cold water had been inside for a while. Su Zhuozhi didn’t allow servants to attend him, so he was alone in the room.

Qingping grew worried. “It’s been a long time. Is the young master all right?”

He hesitated, wondering if he should go in and ask, but as soon as he took a step, someone else moved faster. A tall figure flashed by, leaving only a hastily thrown sentence: “I’ll go check.”

Qingping watched Xie Jue’s back, a little stunned. It seemed this guard really cared about the young master. No wonder the young master treated him so well.

Xie Jue had only just stepped into the room when he stopped, his posture stiff.

Not far away stood a six-paneled screen, carved wood with intertwined branches and leaves, adorned with gorgeous silk embroidery, flowers and birds lifelike.

Muffled sounds came from behind it.

Xie Jue’s hearing was sharp; even at a distance, it was perfectly clear.

The person behind the screen was about to come out.

Just then, a thud—the sound of something heavy falling.

Xie Jue’s eyelid twitched. He stepped forward unconsciously, then stopped himself, barely managing to ask calmly, “Young master, do you need help?”

Behind the screen, Su Zhuozhi gasped, as if startled by his sudden voice, and answered flusteredly, “…N-no!”

A rustling sound—he was trying to get up on his own, but his foot slipped and he fell again.

Finally, a voice came, embarrassed and annoyed, issuing a command.

“Come in. Help me.”

Xie Jue walked over step by step. The short distance felt stretched by time.

Finally, he rounded the screen, and the scene behind gradually came into view.

The usually proud young master was lying somewhat pitifully on his side on the floor, his hastily donned inner robe disheveled, faint redness lingering on his cheeks and neck, the corners of his beautiful eyes tinged with peach pink, lashes wet as if he had just cried. But Xie Jue knew he hadn’t; he knew the reason.

Xie Jue’s gaze only swept over him briefly, without lingering. He stepped forward, bent down, and grasped Su Zhuozhi’s arm to pull him up. But as soon as he touched him, Su Zhuozhi winced and pulled back.

“It hurts.”

Xie Jue jerked his hand away as if shocked, then asked in a tight voice, “Where did the young master fall? I’ll avoid that spot.”

Su Zhuozhi wrinkled his face, looking bitter. “I feel like everything hurts.”

“…”

Xie Jue was silent for a moment, as if choked by the answer.

“I’ll carry the young master over.”

Otherwise, with the young master’s delicate nature, leaning on him, they might not reach the bed by nightfall.

Su Zhuozhi probably realized that too, nodding dejectedly like a frostbitten cabbage. “Fine.”

Xie Jue slipped one hand under his neck and the other under his knees, lifting him easily. Even though he was gentle and careful, Su Zhuozhi still trembled in pain.

Without needing to be told, Xie Jue instinctively softened his movements further, as if holding a fragile glass doll, a priceless jade artifact.

The short distance took twice as long as usual to cross before he reached the canopy bed and slowly set the person down.

Su Zhuozhi lay in the dark brocade quilt. Though he had dealt with it earlier, a lingering heat remained in his chest. He felt very thirsty, licked his lips, and said softly, “Xie Jue, get me a glass of water.”

Xie Jue stared at his lips, his gaze seeming stuck. Finally, he tore his eyes away and turned to pour water.

When he came back, Su Zhuozhi was nuzzling the brocade quilt, sweating profusely, the corners of his eyes slightly red, with an indescribable beauty.

Xie Jue froze in place. His fingers tightened, and with a crisp crack, the white jade cup shattered.

“…What’s wrong?” Su Zhuozhi, hearing the sound, slowly looked up in confusion.

Xie Jue pursed his lips. “Nothing.”

He poured another cup of water, walked over, and helped Su Zhuozhi sit up, leaning him against his chest.

Su Zhuozhi had intended to take the cup himself, but his hands felt too tired, so he simply let Xie Jue hold it and drank a few sips, his parched, burning throat slightly relieved.

“More?”

“Mm.”

Su Zhuozhi, half-closing his eyes, nodded, his voice as faint as a hum, barely noticeable without careful listening.

Xie Jue came and went, again bringing the cup to Su Zhuozhi’s lips. But after feeding him this time, he didn’t immediately release him. Instead, he asked in a seemingly calm, proper tone, “Young master, you still seem very uncomfortable. Do you need my help?”

Su Zhuozhi paused and looked up.

Xie Jue’s pitch-black eyes were like a deep pool. Beneath the surface calm lurked dangerous whirlpools, ready to drag anyone in.

But at this moment, Su Zhuozhi didn’t see the danger. He only wanted to escape his suffering quickly. So, tempted by the offer, he nodded almost unconsciously.

A dark light flashed in Xie Jue’s eyes, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

He set down the white jade cup, then abruptly pulled the person into his embrace. Su Zhuozhi, caught off guard, collided with his solid chest and was about to cry out in pain, but soon, his attention was seized by something else, his breath catching, and he couldn’t speak anymore.

A stick of incense, maybe longer.

Xie Jue went behind the screen to wash his hands, then brought a basin and cloth to carefully clean the young master and straighten his collar.

By then, Su Zhuozhi was truly exhausted, his spirit depleted. With eyes closed, he slept deeply. The drug had likely completely worn off.

He was back to normal, nothing wrong—but Xie Jue was not.

His mind was flooded with the images, scents, sounds, and warmth from earlier, impossible to shake.

The demonic energy was abnormally restless. It had almost broken free from his control and lunged at Su Zhuozhi again.

Even though he had been the one to make the offer and had carried it out, Xie Jue still didn’t understand why he had done it. He rarely did such servile things for himself, let alone for others. If someone had told him he would one day do this for someone else, he would have thought they were mad and given them a harsh lesson.

But the fact was, he didn’t find it repulsive at all. On the contrary, when he saw a bead of sweat roll down Su Zhuozhi’s cheek, he had almost wanted to lick it off, to taste it.

Was the demonic energy’s mutation affecting his mind?

Otherwise, why would he have such a foolish urge, like a dog?

Only a dog would be so servile, excitedly wagging its tail, tongue out to lick someone’s face.

Xie Jue’s face darkened. The rage within him grew stronger, and with it, the fear of losing control expanded.

He coldly stared at the sleeping person on the bed, a flicker of killing intent passing through his eyes. But in the end, he turned and walked out of the room.

Xie Jue gave a faint “Mm” in response, then strode away, disappearing somewhere as before.

Qingping took a couple of steps after him, but couldn’t make sense of it. However, the young master was more important, so he quickly turned his attention back to the bedchamber, standing guard in case his master needed him.

Qingping stared at the door, unaware that behind him, a dark, sinister fog had spread out, trying to rush into the room. But just as it was about to cross the threshold, it was as if some force dragged it back, unwillingly.

The shadow beneath Xie Jue’s feet twisted and writhed like a mad dog.

With such a major incident, Yulantang had called for a doctor, so it was impossible to hide from the other masters in the Su mansion.

Soon, Su Huailang arrived. Seeing his brother sleeping soundly, his complexion rosy with no sign of discomfort, he sighed in relief, then turned to ask Qingping what had happened.

Qingping spilled everything like beans from a sack, growing more indignant as he spoke.

Su Huailang’s face darkened, a far cry from his usual gentle demeanor.

He ordered Qingping to take good care of his master and to inform him when he woke up. He would first investigate who was so vicious as to frame Zhuozhuo.

The next day.

Su Zhuozhi woke up well-rested, full of energy, and ravenously hungry. He ate a good breakfast.

The doctor came again to take his pulse and said there was nothing wrong; just some tonic medicine would suffice.

His brother comforted Su Zhuozhi and asked, “The person who did this must be jealous of you. Think, Zhuozhuo, who would most want to ruin you?”

Drugging him, arranging a maid for them to have an affair, all at a lavish tail-feather banquet attended by high officials and the emperor himself. If discovered, how disastrous would that be? Reputation and image—everything destroyed.

Moreover, when the Duke once slept with a maid after drinking, the Princess was heartbroken for days and almost divorced. Jiang Yangyu thus abhorred anyone who got involved with maids. If the scheme had succeeded, Su Zhuozhi’s relationships with friends would have been badly damaged.

Su Huailang said grimly, “Zhuozhuo, don’t worry. Leave this to me. I will give you a satisfactory result.”

Su Zhuozhi knew his brother cared for him, but he wanted to handle this personally to vent his anger. He tugged on Su Huailang’s sleeve. “Brother, I…”

As soon as he spoke, he hissed in pain, his face scrunching up.

Su Huailang’s expression changed. “You’re injured? Where?”

“I fell by accident.” Su Zhuozhi pulled up his sleeve, revealing a bruise on his elbow, stark against his fair skin.

“Did you apply medicine?” Su Huailang frowned with concern. He wouldn’t mind if it were himself, but seeing his brother hurt made his heart ache.

Seeing Su Zhuozhi shake his head, Su Huailang took the medicine bottle, poured some into his palm, and began to rub his elbow. To promote blood circulation and reduce bruising, he couldn’t be too gentle, causing Su Zhuozhi to yelp dramatically as if he might faint from pain, forcing Su Huailang to stop.

“I’ll do it myself.” Su Zhuozhi, with teary eyes, hugged his arm. “Brother, when you find the person, let me know. I want to take revenge myself.”

“Alright, do as you wish.” Su Huailang was indulgent, patting his brother’s head, but also reminded him, “Remember to apply the medicine. Don’t skip it just because it hurts. I’ll ask Qingping.”

Su Zhuozhi mumbled, “…I know.”

Not long after his brother left, Xie Jue arrived.

Just seeing that tall figure made Su Zhuozhi’s mind uncontrollably recall certain scenes from yesterday. He became very uncomfortable, deliberately avoiding eye contact, clearing his throat twice, almost choking on his own saliva.

Xie Jue’s expression remained unchanged, but his fingers by his side rubbed heavily against each other.

Su Zhuozhi lowered his head, trying to convince himself. It was just a small matter. As a personal guard, it was only natural for Xie Jue to help in special circumstances. As a master, how could he show weakness in front of a servant?

As long as he wasn’t embarrassed, the other party would be the one to feel awkward.

Su Zhuozhi pretended to be calm, putting on the air of a young master, and asked loftily, “What is it?”

Xie Jue stared into his eyes and replied evenly, “I’ve found the mastermind behind the drugging.”

Su Zhuozhi’s pretense of calm vanished instantly. “Who?”

“Kong Zhonglin.”

Flames of anger ignited in Su Zhuozhi’s eyes. He had suspected Kong Zhonglin the most. Kong had always been hostile, speaking with barbs, but he hadn’t expected the hatred to run this deep. This was far beyond mere dislike—it was pure venom. Kong Zhonglin’s scheme could have destroyed him, even crueler than murder.

“You have evidence?” Su Zhuozhi now wanted to rush over and kill Kong Zhonglin, but a shred of reason made him ask this question to avoid revenge on the wrong person.

Xie Jue had only gotten the information by interrogating nearby spirits; there was no evidence, but obtaining some was simple.

Given Xie Jue’s usual character, the moment he identified the target, he would have killed him without hesitation, in a brutal manner, making the person regret being born and regret crossing him.

But this time, before acting, he actually considered Su Zhuozhi first, letting him decide what to do.

As if he had been tamed.

Yet he didn’t realize it.

He thought he was the one in control, but his emotions, thoughts, and actions were all influenced by Su Zhuozhi, easily swayed.

Even before Su Zhuozhi had done anything, he was like a dog, voluntarily bringing the leash to Su Zhuozhi.

“Let’s go.”

Su Zhuozhi didn’t hesitate. He took Xie Jue straight to Kong Zhonglin’s location.

Simple and crude: they put a sack over his head, threw him in a desolate alley, and beat him soundly.

Su Zhuozhi didn’t consider himself a villain, nor was he anything like a saint who returns good for evil. If others didn’t provoke him, it was fine. But once they did, he would get his revenge immediately, unwilling to wrong himself in the slightest.

He looked down at Kong Zhonglin, now a mess on the ground, and commanded coldly, “Break his legs. I want him never to be able to stand again.”

So this was the side of the always naive, carefree young master.

His stunning features flashed with a rare hint of ruthlessness.

From the start, Xie Jue knew Su Zhuozhi had an exceptionally beautiful face, but at this moment, while doing something wicked, he became even more vivid—like a full-blown flower, lush and gorgeous, fragrant and intoxicating, complete with sharp thorns and deadly poison. Breathtakingly beautiful.

He had thought Su Zhuozhi would soften and at most give a beating, then drop it after the wounds healed. That would be too cheap for the villain. But Su Zhuozhi exceeded his expectations.

Xie Jue smiled and complied, “As you command, young master.”

Then, without hesitation, he struck and shattered Kong Zhonglin’s kneecap.

Kong was beaten senseless, his head in a sack, his mouth gagged. The bone-deep scream couldn’t escape. He rolled his eyes and fainted.

Su Zhuozhi scoffed disdainfully. “Pathetic. Can’t even take that.”

Xie Jue couldn’t help but glance at him, wanting to say, the one most afraid of pain is you, young master.

After everything, Su Zhuozhi and Xie Jue left together.

The bustling market was crowded with people.

Su Zhuozhi suddenly asked, “Do you think I was too harsh? After all, I wasn’t really harmed, but I’m being relentless.”

Xie Jue raised an eyebrow. It seemed the spoiled young master still lacked the nature of a villain, already doubting himself and starting to regret.

“Is that so? But I think nothing you do is too harsh. Why focus on the fact that you weren’t harmed? When he used such vile means, he didn’t want you to come out unscathed—he wanted to destroy you completely. You got lucky this time, but who knows if there’ll be a second or third time? Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to yourself.” Xie Jue said coldly.

Su Zhuozhi found it quite reasonable. He could overlook Kong Zhonglin’s usual barbs, but since the other party had gone this far, failing to retaliate would only make him seem easy to bully. The next time it would be worse. Not only would he suffer, but the entire Su household would be implicated.

The revenge was done. Let the upsetting matter end there. Su Zhuozhi didn’t want to waste more thought on scum, so he decisively shifted his attention to buying snacks, preferably sweet treats, to cheer himself up.

He wanted to try everything, but each portion was too big, so he bought various snacks, ate half, and handed the rest to Xie Jue.

While eating the sizzling lamb skewers, crispy on the outside and tender inside, Su Zhuozhi suddenly remembered that Xie Jue didn’t like eating leftovers. He turned back, about to say he’d take it home to Qingping, when he saw Xie Jue eating the half crab and roe stuffed bun he had just handed over, biting right where he had eaten.

“Hm?” Su Zhuozhi was puzzled.

Xie Jue looked back in equal confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Su Zhuozhi said casually, “Nothing. I thought you wouldn’t eat it, so I was going to give it to Qingping.”

Xie Jue smiled. “Is that so? Too bad, I’ve already finished it.”

Su Zhuozhi didn’t mind and waved his hand. “Forget it. By the way, do you want to try fish slices? I remember there’s a place ahead where the owner cuts them thin as silk, so light they can fly away with a breath, like butterflies.”

The description was exaggerated, but that shop’s fish slices were indeed thin and translucent, with no fishy taste, just a slight sweetness.

Su Zhuozhi had tried them before and wanted Xie Jue to taste them. Thanks to Xie Jue’s timely rescue earlier and his help in teaching Kong Zhonglin a lesson, their bond felt deeper. He wanted to give Xie Jue many rewards, but he didn’t have much money, so he had to compensate in other ways.

Fish slices were expensive, but in Su Zhuozhi’s eyes, far from enough.

After Xie Jue nodded, he bought a generous portion and handed it directly to him. But oddly, Xie Jue didn’t eat immediately; instead, he asked, “Young master, aren’t you having any?”

Su Zhuozhi replied matter-of-factly, “This is for you.”

Xie Jue didn’t look pleased.

Su Zhuozhi tilted his head in confusion. “You don’t like it?”

Xie Jue said flatly, “It’s alright.”

Then he picked up a slice of fish and fed it to the young master’s mouth.

Accustomed to being served, Su Zhuozhi ate it naturally, saying approvingly, “It’s tender.”

Xie Jue also took a slice and put it in his mouth, nodding in agreement. “Not bad.”

“See?” Su Zhuozhi’s eyes curved in a smile. It was always nice when someone else liked the things you liked.

They didn’t wander long before returning home.

Su Zhuozhi first told his brother about what happened with Kong Zhonglin. He considered the matter settled, but Su Huailang didn’t agree. The servants and maids involved also needed to be dealt with.

However, the maid had vanished, like many other unsolved cases in the capital. The servant was even more bizarre.

Within two days, word spread that the legitimate son of the Kong family had been beaten and crippled, his personality changed drastically, and he abused his servants. One servant, resentful after having an eye gouged out by the master, poisoned Kong Zhonglin’s medicine, leaving him completely paralyzed, doomed to spend the rest of his life lying in bed, fed and cared for by others.

Qingping excitedly brought the good news, clapping with glee, claiming heaven’s justice.

Su Zhuozhi was surprised. Perhaps it was karma. That’s why you shouldn’t do bad things.

Xie Jue stood silently by.

A servant suddenly ran in, announcing that the eunuch Li from the palace had arrived.

Su Zhuozhi’s face fell. The emperor wasn’t wanting to play horseball again, was he? It was getting colder, and he really didn’t want to ride a horse; the wind was biting.

Fortunately, Eunuch Li had come to deliver something.

The emperor knew Su Zhuozhi liked the towering ancient tree in the palace, so he had someone cut a fresh branch and send it over, telling him to plant it in his courtyard. If it could grow, it would be a blessing.

One couldn’t refuse the emperor’s gift. Su Zhuozhi was also curious to see what would grow, so he immediately ordered it planted.

The ancient tree in the palace was evergreen, very cold-resistant. Even in winter, its leaves didn’t wither; they remained vibrant, perhaps even greener. Emperor Mingde found it pleasing and hoped his empire would thrive like that great tree, ever prosperous.

After his meal, Su Zhuozhi went for a walk in the yard to digest and also check on how the sapling was planted.

The branch wasn’t small; it could be considered a young sapling. Its trunk was somewhat thick, the leaves emerald green and tender, very pleasing.

Su Zhuozhi crouched down, one hand on his knee, the other poking the tip of a leaf.

Huh, a bit prickly.

He smiled and turned to tell Xie Jue to try it, but was surprised to see Xie Jue’s face abruptly change, as if he had witnessed something terrifying.

Behind Su Zhuozhi, the sapling suddenly grew wildly, sprouting countless tendrils like spider silk, writhing menacingly in the air, blocking out the sun and casting a huge dark shadow. Meanwhile, like the mouthparts of a giant insect, their tips sharp and fierce, they rushed towards Su Zhuozhi with alarming speed.

Everything happened too fast.

By the time Xie Jue swung his sword to cut the branches, the leaf Su Zhuozhi had touched had already pierced his thin skin, greedily and thirstily sucking the sweet blood.

The leaf pulsed like an animal’s swallowing throat, strands of crimson spreading through it, turning the vibrant green into blood red, as if the next moment it would drip blood.

Su Zhuozhi frowned in confusion, then suddenly burst into a bright light that enveloped him completely.

Something in his chest was constantly absorbing and devouring external power, its speed incredible. The tree spirit sensed the danger and tried to withdraw its branches, but it was helpless.

Su Zhuozhi felt warm all over, as if bathed in a hot spring.

The light faded.

He looked up, seeing Xie Jue towering like a giant, staring blankly for a long time. Then he slowly turned his head to look around, panic-stricken.

Why had everything become so big?!

Su Zhuozhi’s eyes widened. He tried to stand up instinctively, but lost his footing and fell to the ground with a flop. Looking down, he saw his hands had turned into furry little paws. He cried out in alarm.

“Squeak!”

“…Squeak?!?!?!”

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