Ask the Nine Ministers

Chapter 278 Two People Weaving

Xue Sui raised his eyes.

The prince's python robe was damp with night dew. Against the dim light of the corridor, his dark brocade robe, tightly bound by a jade belt, accentuated his lean and powerful waist, making his broad shoulders and long legs appear even more striking.

"Your Highness summoned this humble nun here, is it for matters concerning the Imperial Street?"

Xue Sui's throat moved slightly, attempting to break the silence.

Li Zhao remained silent.

His long legs slowly stepped over the threshold, approaching her step by step. The lingering alcohol in his eyes was covered by a heavy aura of hostility, mixed with the cold hardness tempered by the wind and snow of the Western Frontier. His dark eyes shone with an astonishing light.

The air suddenly solidified.

Heavy, suffocating.

Xue Sui had never seen Li Zhao like this before.

It wasn't the frenzied obsession of someone under the influence of a love potion, nor the cold, ruthless killing intent of someone returning from the battlefield, but rather a kind of... a cold, destructive ruthlessness that had been pent up to its peak after being thoroughly offended and repeatedly exploited.

Like a poisoned knife.

The tall figure loomed close, as if to engulf her...

She found it both novel and...troublesome.

The numbness in her wound was spreading quietly, leaving her with little energy to deal with the situation.

She slightly adjusted her posture, hiding her injured left arm under her sleeve. Her voice was as calm and even slightly weary as ever.

"Since Your Highness has no desire for pleasantries, then please speak plainly: how shall this humble nun be dealt with? Shall she be imprisoned and interrogated, or... executed on the spot?"

Her reaction was habitual, devoid of much emotional fluctuation, as if she weren't discussing her own life or death.

"Xue Ping'an." Finally, Li Zhao uttered this long-lost name, bearing the mark of the past. The last syllable was drawn out, carrying an almost cold, playful tone, or a mockery that seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Well planned."

"This humble nun does not understand."

Her eyes seemed to be filled with tears.

It is gentle and not aggressive at all.

Perhaps he was ill or injured, because he looked rather listless, his whole body pale and almost transparent in the candlelight of the quiet room late at night.

Without the coldness and sharpness of before, it's not as annoying.

"Humph."

Li Zhao stopped on the other side of the table, leaning over with the back of her hand on the table, the black jade on her belt buckle pressed against her sleeve.

"Then, Master Miaozhen, what do you think is the reason I have come here?"

"Perhaps..." Xue Sui raised his eyes, his eyelashes casting a thin shadow under his eyelids, "Your Highness wishes to see if your old friend is still alive?"

"An old friend?" He chuckled softly, his knuckles tapping on the table.

"You dare call yourself my old friend?"

“This humble nun has overstepped her bounds.”

Xue Sui lowered her eyes, revealing her slender neck.

"But Your Highness should not be angry about this."

"Oh?" Li Zhao raised an eyebrow. "Then why?"

Xue Sui quietly observed Li Zhao's expression.

"Every sip and every bite is a cycle of cause and effect. Nothing is up to us."

She uttered a sentence in a low, almost silent voice, it was unclear whether she was speaking to him or to herself.

The voice was light and airy, carrying a sense of fatalistic desolation.

"...Is it not up to us?"

Li Zhao quickly straightened up, and when he spoke again, his unfathomable black eyes were even more profoundly unfathomable...

Like a hawk eyeing a dying bird, with the patience of a predator, sharp enough to pierce through its skin and peel away its flesh...

Under the heavy pressure, Xue Sui chose to remain silent.

A long silence filled the space between the two of them... The dripping water from the eaves formed a line, making a soft and monotonous sound as it hit the bluestone steps.

Rain pattered on the banana leaves outside the window, the pattering sound like drumbeats, urging one's heart to pound, growing more and more urgent with each beat.

Li Zhao eventually bypassed the sandalwood table and stopped in front of Xue Sui.

Condescending.

The two were separated only by a thin brocade robe, yet the distance between them felt like an insurmountable mountain range.

"I'm sorry." Xue Sui met his gaze without flinching.

"This humble nun had no intention of plotting against His Highness the Crown Prince. Today's matter is simply a matter of using his strength against him and going with the flow."

Li Zhao sneered.

It was as if Xue Sui's words were not a sentence, but a slap, a hard blow to the mask he maintained on his face, and a tear to shred the fig leaf that concealed the truth.

"Guo Zhaoxuan's incriminating evidence, the postman's cries for justice, the blood-written letter on the memorial arch, and those victims who appeared at just the right time... Xue Ping'an, tell me, what is this if not a scheme? Do you think I'm blind? Or a fool?"

Xue Sui subtly pursed his lips.

Li Zhao should hate her; he should hate her for planting poison and for using her.

After all, being vengeful is the Crown Prince's true nature.

Normally, she would have been in the mood for a lively debate with him.

But today she was injured, and the numbness was creeping up her veins, making her feel irritable and unusually lethargic.

She lowered her eyelashes, looking at her slightly curled fingers resting on her knees, her tone carrying an almost resigned perfunctory tone.

“If Your Highness says so, then so be it. This humble nun is not a good person either, and Your Highness may sentence me however you wish—however, the evidence against the Duke of Zheng's family is conclusive, the corrupt officials have been eliminated, which is beneficial to the country and the people. Your Highness's path to cleansing up the court will be smoother in the future…”

Li Zhao gave a light sneer, his laughter filled with sarcasm.

"You're good at putting on a show. For the country and the people? Xue Ping'an, stop with your high-sounding rhetoric. All you ever think about is your own deep-seated hatred."

Xue Sui frowned slightly.

The familiar itch in her throat crept up again, accompanied by a slight tingling sensation, which she forcibly suppressed.

"It's good that Your Highness knows; this humble nun has nothing more to say."

She turned her face slightly to avoid his overly piercing gaze.

"Then let's not talk about it."

Li Zhao suddenly leaned forward, his palms braced on the table beside her, encircling her in his arms. His fingertips brushed against the skin of the back of her hand, the smell of wine mixed with the fragrance of agarwood wafting over him, his warm breath making her ears burn...

"Shall we do something...?"

Xue Sui's heart skipped a beat.

Outside the window, the rain seemed to be getting heavier, and the banana leaves were being pounded and making a crackling sound.

Suddenly!

Li Zhao bent down, his right hand suddenly reaching out with an irresistible force, and precisely gripped her slender wrist.

The force was immense, like a cold iron clamp that tightened instantly.

The rough texture of the wind and sand from western Xinjiang on my fingertips sent a shiver down my spine as they brushed against my skin.

"Your Highness is drunk." Xue Sui suddenly turned his head.

“I’m perfectly sober.” Li Zhao moved closer, his nose almost touching her forehead.

"Watching you clearly as you use a compassionate face to carry out your ruthless and cunning schemes."

"Ugh..." Caught off guard, Xue Sui felt a sharp pain in her wrist, causing her to furrow her brow and let out a low groan.

She could clearly feel the scorching heat and rough calluses in Li Zhao's palm, as well as the terrifying force that seemed to crush her bones...

She could also smell the scent of agarwood mixed with alcohol on his body, the warm fragrance brushing against her ear like a branding iron on silk, making her involuntarily shrink her neck and her heart tighten.

But what was even more fatal was that the sudden attack aggravated the wound on her left arm.

Her face drained of all color instantly, her body swayed almost imperceptibly, and fine beads of cold sweat instantly appeared on her forehead.

"Your Highness, respect yourself."

(End of this chapter)