“Let go.”
Looking down, Shu Changyu saw Jing Mu clinging to him like a large dog begging for affection, holding him tightly in his arms. The crown of Jing Mu’s jet-black hair rested beneath his gaze, his head buried against the hollow of Shu Changyu’s neck.
“Grand Tutor, let me hold you for a little while,” he heard Jing Mu murmur softly. “Just a little while,” he emphasized.
Shu Changyu pressed his lips together.
By all logic, the cold-hearted Prime Minister Shu should have remained completely unmoved and pushed him away.
Just because Jing Mu liked him didn’t mean he had to return those feelings.
Besides, love between two men was already considered immoral, and the other party was an imperial prince.
There could hardly be a greater act of defiance against propriety.
But ever since meeting Jing Mu, Shu Changyu had done far too many things that went against his usual nature.
He felt as though he had been possessed by some ghost, his mind manipulated against his will.
He knew perfectly well that this was inappropriate…
Yet no matter what, he simply couldn’t bring himself to ruthlessly push away the person clinging to him.
After a long silence, Shu Changyu finally gave up struggling with himself.
He simply let Jing Mu hold him.
A moment later, however, Jing Mu suddenly released him as though shocked by electricity.
“Grand Tutor, am I too cold?” he asked hurriedly. “Did I make you cold?”
Shu Changyu glanced at him.
His face looked somewhat haggard, and faint dark circles had formed beneath his eyes.
Not yet sixteen years old…
Yet he somehow carried an exhaustion and gravity far beyond his age.
“How did he die?” Shu Changyu asked after an involuntary sigh.
The moment he heard the question, Jing Mu lowered his head like a student who had done something wrong.
“Grand Tutor… I had no choice.”
Seeing him like that, Shu Changyu hadn’t intended to lecture him.
Yet years of habit prevailed, and he quietly said,
“I’ve told you before—don’t fabricate crimes against an innocent man. You framed Fan Yu’an, and afterward you had to commit even more deeds to cover up the first one.”
Jing Mu merely lowered his head and quietly acknowledged it.
After a pause, Shu Changyu sighed.
“Forget it. You probably don’t think you were wrong anyway.”
Instead, Jing Mu asked,
“Grand Tutor… I killed the First Prince. Aren’t you angry with me?”
Frankly, Shu Changyu couldn’t care less whether the First Prince lived or died.
The man had always been a useless fool who stirred up trouble even when there was none, obsessed with building factions and playing politics despite lacking any real ability.
But hearing Jing Mu ask that…
He laughed in exasperation.
“What? Would you only admit you were wrong if I blamed you?”
Jing Mu kept his head lowered and gave a muffled, “Mm.”
Looking at him acting like someone who had already given up on himself, Shu Changyu found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
“Jing Mu.”
After a pause, he said seriously,
“You keep saying you love me, but perhaps you’re mistaken.”
“When you were isolated and had no one in your previous life, I merely happened to lend you a hand. You’ve remembered that kindness ever since.”
“I’m not as wonderful as you’ve imagined.”
“I’m a thoroughly rotten person.”
“I was simply soft-hearted for a fleeting moment back then.”
“Jing Mu…”
“Don’t mistake a fledgling’s attachment for love.”
Jing Mu immediately shook his head with complete conviction.
“No, Grand Tutor.”
He knew better than anyone who Shu Changyu truly was.
To him, Shu Changyu had always been that noble, upright man, as bright and pure as the moon.
It was simply that the world had treated him with hatred and dragged him into the mire.
But even standing in the mud…
His heart had always remained clean.
Jing Mu had spent more than ten years understanding this man completely.
And he had spent those same ten years sorting out exactly what he felt for Shu Changyu.
It wasn’t simple filial attachment.
It was love—
A mixture of admiration, tenderness, desire, and possessiveness.
No one understood that better than Jing Mu himself.
Yet to Shu Changyu…
That unwavering certainty merely looked like hopeless stubbornness.
“Forget it,” Shu Changyu said.
“If you’ve hugged enough, go sit over there.”
Jing Mu obediently answered, “Yes.”
He moved to the couch opposite him—
The very seat Shu Changyu had unconsciously looked toward on the day Jing Mu hadn’t come.
“I’m sorry, Grand Tutor,” he said quietly.
“It’s been several days since I saw you. I… missed you too much. I lost my composure.”
Shu Changyu looked up and frowned at him.
Jing Mu hurriedly changed the subject.
“Grand Tutor, the officials heading south have already departed.”
Shu Changyu nodded.
“So I’ll finally be cleared of all charges and released from here?”
One corner of his mouth lifted into an icy, mocking smile.
Jing Mu pretended not to notice.
Instead, he nodded earnestly.
“Once I’ve finished settling Minister Qian’s old accounts, Grand Tutor can resume your official position.”
Shu Changyu frowned.
“What old accounts do you have with Qian Rubin?”
Hearing his tone, Jing Mu immediately assumed Shu Changyu was about to accuse him of killing innocents again.
He quickly explained,
“Qian Rubin in the Ministry of Works is like a rat falling into a granary.”
“The silver he’s embezzled is enough to sentence him to death ten times over.”
“Besides…”
Lowering his voice, he added,
“He framed Grand Tutor.”
“He couldn’t have framed me in the first place,” Shu Changyu stated matter-of-factly.
“I had evidence prepared.”
“You confiscated it.”
Jing Mu immediately fell silent again.
Seeing his expression—which practically read I know I was wrong. I’m sorry. I’d probably still do it again—Shu Changyu no longer had the energy to argue.
He simply gave a quiet “Mm” and lowered his eyes to continue reading.
“Grand Tutor,” Jing Mu suddenly said.
“I’m not going to keep you imprisoned.”
“But…”
“You absolutely mustn’t force me.”
Shu Changyu found that amusing.
Looking up coolly, he asked,
“Force you?”
“Who’s forcing you?”
“What exactly would count as forcing you?”
Jing Mu answered with complete seriousness.
“You mustn’t leave the capital just to avoid me.”
“And you also mustn’t…”
“…marry and have children.”
He paused there.
His burning gaze fixed firmly on Shu Changyu.
“Grand Tutor.”
“I won’t force you to love me.”
“But those two things…”
“I can’t bear them.”
“As for everything else, do whatever you want.”
“Whatever happens…”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Hearing those last words, Shu Changyu’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He forcibly suppressed the feeling.
“Not marry or have children?” he asked.
“Jing Mu, if I don’t love you, why should I remain chaste for your sake?”
The moment those words left his mouth, Jing Mu’s expression changed completely.
He stared fixedly at Shu Changyu.
“Grand Tutor…”
“In this life…”
“Do you still love Princess Danyao and no one else?”
Grinding his teeth, he continued,
“You devoted yourself to her until your death.”
“But do you know what kind of person she really is?”
“Do you know…”
“…what she did after you died?”
That piqued Shu Changyu’s curiosity.
He finally turned fully toward Jing Mu.
In his previous life, he and Danyao had never shared much affection.
Still, they had reached a rare mutual understanding.
Each lived their own life without interfering with the other.
Because of that, they had actually gotten along rather well.
Seeing Shu Changyu ignore him all this time, only to immediately look at him upon hearing Princess Danyao’s name…
Jing Mu’s heart twisted painfully.
Just as he’d feared…
That woman truly occupied his heart!
“Hm?” Shu Changyu asked.
“What did she do?”
“Why aren’t you saying it?”
Originally, he had only been curious.
But seeing Jing Mu’s pale face, tightly pressed lips, and utterly miserable expression…
An odd sense of satisfaction, almost like revenge, quietly blossomed inside him.
“She remarried almost immediately!”
Jing Mu practically ground the words out through clenched teeth.
“The man…”
“…was one of your own Zhao-family bodyguards.”
“He’d been by her side for years.”
“And afterward…”
His voice caught painfully.
He struggled before forcing out the remaining words.
“She even…”
“…changed your child’s surname to Zhao.”
The moment Shu Changyu heard the surname Zhao…
Everything became clear.
Princess Danyao’s true beloved must have been that young man named Zhao.
Somehow, she’d managed to hide him inside the Prime Minister’s residence all those years without even Shu Changyu discovering it.
Which meant…
That child had always belonged to the man surnamed Zhao.
Thinking back, aside from the formal occasions where protocol demanded it, he had never once heard the child call him Father.
Now it all made sense.
After his death…
Everything had simply been returned to its rightful owner.
“Oh.”
That was all Shu Changyu said.
No further reaction followed.
Seeing his complete indifference, Jing Mu’s eyes turned red.
“Grand Tutor!”
“Even after all that…”
“You still won’t give up on her?”
Looking at him, Shu Changyu found himself becoming even more amused.
The urge to tease him suddenly surfaced.
Keeping a perfectly calm expression, he replied casually,
“Those were matters from my previous life.”
“In this life…”
“I may not die.”
He smiled faintly.
“You were the one who said…”
“…that you’ll take care of everything.”
Watching Jing Mu grit his teeth until his jaw trembled, his eyes crimson, his fists clenched tight, his shoulders quivering…
Alongside his amusement came the faintest trace of heartache.
Why am I doing this?
I’m practically forty years old when both lifetimes are counted together.
Why am I teasing this child?
Just as he was about to speak—
Jing Mu suddenly slammed his fist onto the table.
Bang!
The table shook violently.
Wood cracked somewhere within it.
The teacup on top bounced into the air before crashing onto the floor.
Crash!
Shattered porcelain scattered everywhere.
Jing Mu stood.
His entire body radiated terrifying fury and murderous intent.
Without another word, he strode toward the door.
“What are you doing?” Shu Changyu called after him.
Jing Mu turned around.
His face was rigid.
His eyes were bloodshot.
The sound that emerged from his throat was nearly a suppressed roar.
“I’m going to kill that woman!”
“If I kill her…”
“I’ll see who Grand Tutor can love then!”
Shu Changyu froze.
Then, in the next instant…
Jing Mu somehow reminded him of a huge wolfdog whose fur had exploded in anger, bouncing around baring its teeth, ready to bite.
Shu Changyu couldn’t help laughing.
An unexpected thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
This brat…
…is actually kind of adorable.
No.
Not merely kind of.
Very adorable.
So he simply sat there leisurely, watching him.
Outside, rain continued pattering against the bamboo leaves.
Inside, silence filled the room.
Neither of them spoke.
Shu Changyu watched as Jing Mu’s fierce expression visibly transformed into one of grievance.
The great wolfdog’s ears drooped.
Its tail slowly lowered as well, swaying pitifully from side to side.
Only those reddened eyes remained.
No longer fierce—
Instead, they looked as though they were on the verge of tears.
“Go ahead,” Shu Changyu said with a slight smile, his voice cool and clear.
But Jing Mu didn’t move.
He simply stood there.
After a long while, he finally yielded.
In a low voice, he muttered,
“I…”
“I won’t kill her.”
“Grand Tutor…”
“Please don’t love her.”
“…All right?”
Shu Changyu thought…
The rain outside must have been falling too heavily.
Otherwise…
How could his heart have melted into flowing spring water amid the endless sound of the rain?
“It’s fine.”
“You can go.”
Shu Changyu smiled.
Yet Jing Mu merely lowered his eyes dejectedly.
He slowly shuffled back, returned to the couch, and sat down.
“The rain’s too heavy,” he muttered.
“I’ll wait until it gets smaller… then I’ll go.”