Regardless, one must seek a position by the nobleman’s side, even if it means feigning sleep to secure it.
According to the habit of historians, this night must be described in vivid detail, starting from the bombardment of the inner city palace gates, to the death of the Qi Emperor, Lu Zhang, under chaotic blades, marking the falling of the imperial star and the beginning of an era of chaos.
In reality, nothing happened in the latter half of the night.
The thunder ceased, and the rain stopped.
The anxious citizens of Taijing endured for an hour upon hearing the cannonade, only to find the streets outside silent and not indicative of any major event, leading them to suspect the earlier commotion was indeed thunder.
Though they had never heard thunder so loud, seeming even to shake the ground, wasn’t there a bizarrely strong demon wind before the rain?
Thus, they gradually eased their minds, despite some lingering doubts, no longer enduring with their valuables and clothes, but rather resting separately, preparing to gather information at dawn.
The same situation occurred near the Yiguang Gate in the official residences; after all, their masters were not in the capital, and even if a major event had transpired, it would not involve them immediately, so it was better to rest early.
In the midst of darkness, the tense and anxious atmosphere dispersed, and even the clouds slowly dissipated.
There were no comets, nor any signs of the clouds parting to reveal a changed world.
The moon, affected by the clouds in the night sky, appeared and disappeared intermittently, elusive and indistinct.
Meng Qi naturally returned much faster than the prince’s envoy to the general’s mansion. Instead of going around to the front hall to report the upheaval in the palace to Liu Dan, he directly climbed over the wall into the yard.
The door was unbarred, and the window left slightly ajar.
With a gentle push, Meng Qi silently entered the house.
The furnishings inside the house had not changed much from when Meng Qi left, except for an undergarment on a chair, unfolded, seemingly laid out to air, its sleeves fluttering slightly in the wind.
Meng Qi picked up the garment and saw that the tear was mended seamlessly, invisible until the garment was turned inside out to reveal the stitching.
The physician’s skill was remarkable.
Meng Qi silently marveled, ready to remove his outer robe and wear the mended garment.
Unbeknownst to him, Mo Li, sensing a familiar presence outside, came out of the bedroom.
“……”
For those who uphold the decorum of a gentleman, this situation was likely a bit awkward.
Meng Qi pretended to be startled, not moving his hands.
Mo Li averted his gaze and coughed lightly.
This reaction surprised Meng Qi, as previously, the physician, upon witnessing such a scene, would remain unaffected, and any avoidance would be purely out of politeness, certainly not with a cough suggesting he dress.
After all, the physician had seen many patients. Mo Li, unlike those stern and stubborn physicians, wouldn’t even blush at the sight of a man without a shirt, let alone a group of naked young men and women.
Now, Mo Li’s attitude had changed, indicating his view of Meng Qi had shifted! Meng Qi thought smugly.
Therefore, he slowly dressed, first patting and shaking the garment to remove non-existent dust, then spreading it out to look for the tie, as if checking for other tears, finally examining the mended area closely.
After a moment, Mo Li, catching a glimpse of Meng Qi inspecting the garment as if appraising an antique, couldn’t help but feel both annoyed and amused. He sternly said, “Going out in the rain in the middle of the night and then delaying putting on your clothes, Brother Meng must be ready to taste the herbal soup boiled by Taijing’s pharmacies.”
Meng Qi paused, then quickly put on the undergarment.
Though martial arts masters do not fear the cold, there’s a cold called the physician thinking this easily leads to catching a cold.
“Won’t you ask how things are in the imperial palace?”
“Judging by your expression, I presume there’s no significant issue.”
“The physician is mistaken,” Meng Qi said with a smile, following Mo Li into the bedroom.
He indeed intended to pique curiosity, but Mo Li was not interested in playing along. If Meng Qi didn’t speak, Mo Li wouldn’t ask.
Meng Qi had no choice but to reveal it.
“Lu Zhang is dead.”
Mo Li paused at these words, hesitantly asking, “The crown prince?”
Mo Li was surprised; he knew the crown prince planned to seize power tonight, but he didn’t expect the crown prince to kill the emperor so decisively. After all, even Meng Qi initially said that Lu Zhang couldn’t be killed rashly, as it would cause chaos in the Qi dynasty.
This wasn’t a chivalrous novel where the corrupt emperor is slain by a heroic swordsman sneaking into the palace.
—Those capable of such an act wouldn’t resort to violence so casually.
Meng Qi and Mo Li had their reservations, while Qingwu Ancestor sought greater benefits.
“We are outsiders, and although we see clearly, we ultimately lack the innate methods of insiders to break the deadlock,” Meng Qi sighed, then recounted in detail the events that transpired in the palace.
“Lu Zhang usurped Chu to establish Qi, killing all dissenters. Now that the crown prince has regicided, what do you think the senior ministers in the Wenyuan Pavilion will think?”
They fear the crown prince is another Lu Zhang.
A warning to others, causing everyone to tremble and kneel, only for the prince to ascend the throne as usual, leaving those who stood out to die in vain.
This wasn’t the end of the Chu dynasty; at least those killed by Lu Zhang had the honor of a noble cause. But them? They submitted to a regicidal usurper and now sacrificed their lives shouting for the crown prince’s regicide? How will future generations record such folly?
No matter what, Lu Huan was the crown prince.
The crown prince is the rightful heir, legitimate and justified. Although this rationale was worthless to Mo Li, not even considered a rationale, it was particularly effective among the civil officials.
Mo Li finally understood the complexities with Meng Qi’s hints, realizing the impact of a prince committing regicide was not as significant as the crown prince taking action.
“Actually, the crown prince won’t kill these court officials?” Mo Li asked, massaging his forehead.
Meng Qi didn’t answer, recalling the crown prince’s ruthless attitude towards Prime Minister Zhang.
“…This is uncertain.”
Even with insight, Meng Qi couldn’t discern what Prime Minister Zhang had done; he was unaware of the factions among the Qi dynasty’s civil officials and thus couldn’t guess the crown prince’s thoughts.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. Once Taijing stabilizes, we can stroll through the shops in the East Market and watch the tile-roofed theater in the West Market. Apart from Taijing, there’s no other place that has such a variety of goods from all over the world.”
Meng Qi spoke leisurely, seemingly reminiscing about those bustling scenes.
Mo Li initially listened attentively but began to daydream, thinking about the books under his pillow.
Although he returned the book to its place, would Meng Qi notice it had been moved? Reading a romantic novel is not a big deal, but doing so behind Meng Qi’s back is harder to explain.
Meng Qi was lost in thought, while Mo Li was distracted.
They sat in front of the bed for about a quarter of an hour before realizing something was off.
“Physician?”
“It’s time to rest,” Mo Li said, trying to cover up.
He lay down subconsciously, and only after seeing Meng Qi’s surprised expression did Mo Li realize his mistake.
Initially, Mo Li should have meditated to cultivate his internal energy, but by lying down, it seemed as if he was hurrying the guest away. The bed was taken by him, and though there was space left, it was odd for one person to sleep soundly while another sat beside, cultivating internal energy.
How peculiar!
As Mo Li propped himself up on his elbow to sit up and explain, the scene before him blurred, and suddenly another person was on the bed.
Meng Qi took the outer side of the bed, lying down comfortably and closing his eyes as if already asleep.
Mo Li: “…”
With mixed feelings, he lay back down, the arm near Meng Qi slightly stiff.
After a while, seeing that Meng Qi remained silent and motionless as if truly asleep, Mo Li’s stiff arm gradually relaxed.
Indeed, sharing a bed was not new to them.
In the dilapidated house of the wild fair, there was only one bed, even more cramped than the current one.
At that time, Meng Qi’s illness was unstable, and Mo Li insisted that Meng Qi lie down to sleep every night, forbidding the replacement of sleep with meditation. This rule, since their arrival in Taijing and the subsequent recovery of Meng Qi’s memory followed by a series of troubles, became virtually null.
Now, listening to the long and steady breathing by his ear, Mo Li suddenly felt that his teacher was right.
Endless training without rest could lead to deviation; sleep was necessary.
The issue with the second prince need not be sent to Yan Qin; the sixth prince could be handed over to the crown prince along with it; Liu Dan didn’t need to flee Taijing overnight; this mansion could continue to be a leisurely home for him and Meng Qi…
As Mo Li thought about it, he realized he had been staring at Meng Qi’s profile for quite a while.
“…”
This was rather awkward, even improper.
If Meng Qi was awake, Mo Li was prepared to pretend he was conducting an examination.
However, Mo Li found it hard to utter such a lie, and being exposed would be even more embarrassing.
The most troubling part was that Mo Li had no idea whether Meng Qi was truly asleep; even someone unfamiliar with martial arts would sense someone staring at them like that.
Mo Li’s only option was to feign sleep.
He closed his eyes, listening closely to the sounds around him, and slowly realized Meng Qi showed no reaction.
Could he truly be asleep?
Mo Li opened his eyes doubtfully, yet couldn’t verify whether Meng Qi was sleeping or awake. Torn by his mixed feelings and fatigue, he unknowingly fell into a dream.
Meng Qi silently sighed, relieved it hadn’t turned into a farce of who could pretend to sleep more convincingly.
After such a chaotic night, to share a bed with the person he cared for was luckier than many could hope for.
Meng Qi boldly traced Mo Li’s sleeping features with his gaze, thinking it only fair since Mo Li had watched him for quite a while earlier. Now, he was merely taking his turn, quite justifiably.
Even if Mo Li was pretending to sleep to trick him, Meng Qi wasn’t afraid!
Meng Qi tentatively touched Mo Li’s right hand.
The action was very light, and Mo Li subconsciously noticed it, but he didn’t wake up.
Perhaps the surrounding aura was too familiar, or maybe he awoke briefly, thinking it was just Meng Qi moving in his sleep, as bumps and brushes were inevitable. Mo Li merely frowned and continued sleeping.
Meng Qi’s eyes sparkled, and he reached out his hand again.
