The mask Liang Ye gave him needed its adhesive changed every three days. Wang Dian, being naturally cautious, usually wore it even when alone, only removing it to let his skin breathe when changing the adhesive.
He touched the slight protrusion on his neck, then peeled off the entire mask, staring expressionlessly at the face in the mirror.
What he needed to do was very clear – it was just a matter of trading his conscience.
If he returned to the capital and Northern Liang won by chance, Liang Ye wouldn’t let him go. If Northern Liang lost, Liang Ye wouldn’t let him live alone either. Returning to the capital meant death either way, regardless of victory or defeat.
Staying in Southern Zhao, waiting for the right moment to remove Liang Ye from the battlefield, then fleeing far away with his people.
Perhaps this was cruel to Liang Ye, but Liang Ye hadn’t considered his wishes when planning to imprison him in the deep palace.
Wang Dian coldly tugged at the corner of his mouth, and the person in the mirror also revealed a gloomy smile. In the flickering candlelight, the mirror image’s smile suddenly froze, his gaze falling on the twisted gold thread around his neck, where some blurry black stains appeared on the thread.
The mirror didn’t show it clearly. Wang Dian assumed it was just some dirt that had gotten on it accidentally. When he did it with Liang Ye before, it had been wild and frenzied – it was probably blood.
Wang Dian had a mild obsession with cleanliness. Though this usually didn’t matter much, when he was in a bad mood or particularly idle, this tendency would become amplified. He spent considerable effort untying the knotted gold thread, wondering when he had tied it so tight, when he finally saw what the dirt on the gold thread was—
It was hair.
The sewing thread was very fine. Wang Dian had twisted two strands together to string this copper coin, but now a thin strand of hair was entwined within these double gold threads.
Wang Dian was stunned for a while before finding a fragment in his memories filled with passionate desire.
Perhaps it was in the cave, or maybe in the secret chamber of the mansion – the background was truly blurry. After their intense satisfaction, which always left one content and drowsy, Liang Ye had clung to him, biting the sweat-soaked copper coin from his neck, mumbling that he wanted one too.
Wang Dian had half-opened his eyes, his attention entirely focused on those lips biting the copper coin. He wasn’t dressed and didn’t have the patience to find clothes to take apart for him. He had casually told Liang Ye to just find any thread to string it up, before roughly handling him again like a beast.
Later, Liang Ye wore another copper coin around his neck, strung with black thread that must have been taken from some piece of clothing. Some parts of the thread were lighter than others, but he hadn’t paid much attention. After all, usually when he could fully see this copper coin, his attention was elsewhere.
He had no idea when Liang Ye had untied his thread and woven the hair into it.
Hair held profound meaning for people of ancient times, such as “body and hair received from parents must not be harmed,” and… “binding hair together as husband and wife, loving devotion without doubt.”
Wang Dian lowered his eyes to look at the black and gold intertwined rope in his palm, the copper coin still carrying some warmth.
Previously, he had deliberately fabricated a story about a wife. Even after telling Liang Ye it was false, Liang Ye didn’t seem to believe it entirely, always getting jealous over nothing. He found it amusing and never seriously explained, treating it as playful banter between them, since in his view, it was truly insignificant for both of them.
Between them, there was more suspicion and possession, along with irresistible conquest and excitement, perhaps mixed with the subtly forbidden pleasure of belonging to the same person.
Talk of binding hair and devotion seemed somewhat false, as if he and Liang Ye were deeply in love.
If Liang Ye truly loved him, he wouldn’t try every means to trap him. If he truly loved Liang Ye, he wouldn’t be meticulously plotting against him.
Wang Dian could almost imagine Liang Ye frowning with jealousy over his “deceased wife” while arrogantly weaving his own hair into the gold thread, then carefully tying it around his neck, eagerly waiting for him to discover it.
Without doubt, Wang Dian’s hair had surely met the same fate, quietly cut and woven into the black thread that Liang Ye wore.
It was truly naive and childish.
This really didn’t seem like something Liang Ye would do, yet somehow nothing Liang Ye did would be surprising.
Wang Dian clutched the copper coin string in his hand, faced that reflection in the mirror, then coldly suppressed the involuntary upward curve of his lips.
After some time, the gold thread with its entwined hair and copper coin was tied back around his neck, unchanged.
Tied into the same dead knot as before.
—
Southern Zhao, at a restaurant in the capital.
On the sixth day of the New Year, the festive atmosphere still lingered. Guests in the restaurant were drinking and toasting, while firecrackers occasionally sounded from outside.
Cong Yingqiu leaned by the window watching children play below. Hearing Wang Dian’s words, she turned around with a smile, “Young Master Wang, are you toying with us?”
Wang Dian unhurriedly removed the floating tea leaves from his cup. “Tower Master Cong, business is business. This isn’t our first cooperation. I sought you and the Feixian Tower because I trust you. Otherwise, for the same price, I could easily find others. Eastern Chen, Southern Zhao, Northern Liang – Feixian Tower isn’t the only option.”
After pondering for a while, Cong Yingqiu said, “You just barely escaped from Emperor Liang’s grasp.”
“That’s a private matter between us.” Wang Dian raised his hand, and Chang Ying and Chang Li brought in a large chest. When opened, it revealed rows of gold bars.
Cong Yingqiu’s gaze paused, “This is rather…”
“It’s just the deposit,” Wang Dian smiled gently. “If you can bring him back, you’ll get thirty percent of my business profits in Southern Xinjiang without any capital investment.”
Cong Yingqiu silently swallowed the words “too much” and asked seriously, “Are you certain, Young Master?”
“I am,” Wang Dian said. “I not only enjoy doing business but also making friends. The battlefield is unpredictable with life and death hanging in the balance. Ultimately, I’m just buying peace of mind.”
“Since you’re being so frank, I won’t mince words either,” Cong Yingqiu said. “I’ll personally handle this job.”
“Then I’ll trouble the Tower Master,” Wang Dian smiled and began explaining his detailed requirements.
Although some terms sounded unfamiliar and awkward, Cong Yingqiu understood their specific tasks. First was ensuring Liang Ye’s survival – broken arms, legs, or other unavoidable injuries would affect the final payment. Second, they shouldn’t interfere with the battle itself – their target was only Liang Ye, essentially making them hidden personal bodyguards hired by Wang Dian to protect him at all costs during the chaos, blocking arrows and weapons… Bringing him back was an additional condition with extremely generous compensation, perhaps overly generous, but it couldn’t conflict with the previous conditions.
Cong Yingqiu reviewed the thick stack of contracts and pressed her seal amid the room’s golden gleam.
Having bought “insurance” for Liang Ye – and not just from Feixian Tower – Wang Dian’s anxiety was barely soothed a bit. He was also grateful for laying groundwork while being the “false emperor” in the palace. After all, being a merchant was more reliable. Using his privileges as emperor, he had established “strongholds” in various countries. After leaving the palace without Liang Ye’s direct supervision, he had more room to maneuver. Novel yet affordable items often greatly attracted people’s demands, and the profits could be invested in industry. He had even accidentally acquired a gold mine in the Huadong Prefecture, which Eastern Chen had occupied from Northern Liang…
Looking back now, his days of working overtime in the small secret chamber of Yingsu Square, sleeping only two hours each night, had paid off.
Although there was still some distance from his set goals, at least he could now buy Liang Ye’s life with money.
The next day.
Capital City, Imperial Palace.
“Zhen is not old, so why are Zhen’s ears not working? What did you just say?” Zhao Qi held his tea cup, staring at the person before him.
Wang Dian calmly said, “Lend me some of your private army.”
Zhao Qi slammed his teacup on the table with a bang. “Wang Dian, have you gone mad?! I’m the Emperor of Zhao, and you’re the twin brother of Emperor Liang. You’re asking me for private troops? Do you hear yourself?”
Wang Dian sighed, “I know this request is somewhat abrupt.”
“More than abrupt!” Zhao Qi was at a loss for words. “Zhao has already agreed to send ninety thousand troops to aid Northern Liang. Emperor Liang has even sent a letter expressing deep gratitude – finally heard something decent from him… Wait, what do you want private troops for?”
“To force a palace coup and usurp the throne. If I become Emperor of Northern Liang, Liang and Zhao will be like brothers in the future,” Wang Dian said with a straight face.
Zhao Qi was momentarily swayed by his serious nonsense, but quickly came to his senses and cursed, “Go to hell! Given how desperately you negotiated before, nearly wanting to skin my Lin Yuan alive, I’d sooner trust a dog than you.”
Wang Dian pulled a paper from his desk, dipped a brush in ink, and quickly filled the page. He took out a seal from his sleeve, stamped it, and held it up before Zhao Qi. “Will you lend them or not?”
Zhao Qi looked at the handwriting identical to Emperor Liang’s and the still-wet private seal, extremely tempted by the conditions. After a moment of silence, he couldn’t help but curse. “It’s bad enough that you slept with Emperor Liang, but you even stole his private seal. If I were Liang Ye, I’d kill you too.”
“…Is there a possibility that he gave it to me?” Wang Dian tried to argue. “After all, his feelings for me run deep.”
“I don’t believe your nonsense.” Zhao Qi snatched the paper. “Ten thousand is impossible. I can give you at most one thousand private troops.”
“Nine thousand,” Wang Dian said considerately.
“Fifteen hundred, not one more,” Zhao Qi said.
“Lin Daren has been frequently visiting my new restaurant lately, asking many times about the secret recipes without success,” Wang Dian said. “During this period while I’m away, I won’t have the mind to manage it.”
Zhao Qi narrowed his eyes. “Two thousand.”
Wang Dian smiled slightly, reaching for the paper with the private seal, but Zhao Qi pressed it down.
Wang Dian raised an eyebrow.
“Six thousand,” Zhao Qi said through gritted teeth. “Any more would be difficult to explain to either side.”
“Pleasure doing business,” Wang Dian withdrew his hand. He had originally only wanted three thousand, but six thousand would do.
“Keep this private,” Zhao Qi said.
“Of course. Your Majesty has a kind heart to lend six hundred soldiers to escort me on business,” Wang Dian smiled. “When I return after handling my family matters, I’ll properly thank Your Majesty.”
Zhao Qi clicked his tongue and tossed him the command token. “Let’s talk about that if you can make it back.”
Wang Dian caught the token, putting on an exaggerated sigh and joked, “No matter. If I can’t be emperor, I’ll be empress instead. When I visit Zhao then, we’ll need to have a screen between us.”
Zhao Qi slammed the table and cursed, “If you’re going to be like this, don’t come see me! Who are you trying to disgust?!”
Wang Dian laughed heartily and left cheerfully with the token.
Zhao Qi stared at his retreating figure for a while. “Madman.”
