After the proposal, Liang Ye appeared particularly excited, taking every opportunity between bites of food to admire the ring on his finger.
While he admired his ring, Wang Dian admired him, showing little interest in the food on his plate.
He wanted to eat Liang Ye.
He swallowed hard twice, raising his wine glass in an attempt to conceal the unmistakable desire in his eyes.
“No drinking,” Liang Ye took the wine glass from his hand and pushed two pieces of soft bread toward him. “Eat this instead, it’s not sweet.”
Wang Dian stared at his hand with dark eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then deliberately shifted his gaze away. He picked up the bread and took a few tasteless bites, asking with feigned casualness, “You don’t mind?”
Liang Ye broke off a rose from the nearby bouquet, carefully removed the thorns from the stem, and tucked it behind Wang Dian’s ear. He rested his chin on his hand and smiled, “Mind what? That you want to eat Zhen?”
Wang Dian narrowed his eyes, grabbed Liang Ye’s hand and brought it to his lips, gently biting it while carefully experiencing the hunger surging from his stomach. After struggling for a long time, he ultimately couldn’t bring himself to bite down, only licking twice forcefully before letting go.
Liang Ye pressed his hand against Wang Dian’s lips, encouraging him relentlessly, “Won’t you really taste it? Zhen must be delicious.”
“…Shut up.” Wang Dian gripped his hand, but before he could suppress that hunger, his mouth was filled with hot porridge.
Before Liang Ye came, he hadn’t eaten properly for a long time—sometimes going without food for one or two days, sometimes seven or eight days, occasionally drinking some water, fortunately not killing himself through neglect.
After Liang Ye arrived, he watched him eat every day. Though Wang Dian wasn’t particularly eager to eat, he wouldn’t refuse—when Liang Ye was willing to be personal, he was patient and considerate, making it difficult for Wang Dian to resist.
Before he knew it, he had eaten quite a bit. Wang Dian glanced at the bouquet of roses that Liang Ye had secretly ordered but which had arrived a step too late due to various reasons. Although he didn’t particularly like them, when Liang Ye eagerly handed them to him, he still reluctantly felt touched.
They hadn’t finished their meal before the rose behind his ear was soaked in red wine. The candles on the long table flickered with the chaotic sounds of plates and utensils. The elegant chandelier above the dining room reflected two inseparable shadows. The desserts and fruits were put to uses they weren’t meant for, and the air was filled with sweet fragrant scents.
In comparison, this style of dining suited Wang Dian’s taste much better. In a great mood, he enjoyed cream and small cakes with Liang Ye. However, Liang Ye learned too quickly, even mastering techniques without instruction… In any case, Wang Dian wouldn’t be eating grapes for a while.
Candle wax dripped onto the intricate tablecloth.
Liang Ye lowered his head to wipe away the cream from the small red mole, putting it in his mouth to taste, then frowned at the sweetness. “Not good.”
“It’s fine.” Wang Dian, having thoroughly enjoyed himself but being particularly clean, dragged Liang Ye back to the bedroom to bathe.
Liang Ye suggested, “We could live here.”
“We can for the New Year,” Wang Dian said. “It’s too far from the city center, inconvenient for going to the company.”
Liang Ye showed some interest. “Is working fun?”
Wang Dian narrowed his eyes. “Overall, it’s acceptable. If you’d like to work, you could use your salary to buy an airplane to play with.”
“You buy it for Zhen.” Liang Ye lowered his head to study the massage function of the new bathtub, saying matter-of-factly, “Zhen’s salary can buy other things.”
“Like what?” Wang Dian became interested as well.
“Roses for you,” Liang Ye said seriously.
“…That works too.” Wang Dian nodded.
Having successfully traded a bouquet for an airplane, His Majesty the Emperor was still not satisfied. “Zhen wants a new computer.”
“What?” Wang Dian asked curiously. “The one at home is already new.”
“The configuration is too poor, it can barely run games,” Liang Ye said. “Zhen wants to assemble one myself.”
“…Fine.” Wang Dian smiled slightly.
He’d cut off the internet as soon as they got home.
Liang Ye had clearly adapted well to modern life, probably because his thought process was filled with logic such as: if there’s something he couldn’t master, it must be the object’s fault rather than his own.
However, there were also aspects he hadn’t adapted to well, such as his sleeping schedule.
The White Jade Soup had once tormented him, keeping him awake all night, but since Wang Dian appeared, the quality of his sleep had improved dramatically. Apart from engaging in certain physically demanding activities he particularly enjoyed, he could quickly fall asleep holding Wang Dian—provided that Wang Dian was also ready for bed.
“Wang Dian, sleep,” he said, leaning back on the sofa and placing his foot on the laptop resting on Wang Dian’s knee.
“Wait a moment.” Wang Dian, wearing frameless glasses on the bridge of his nose, stared intently at the screen. He held Liang Ye’s ankle and glanced at the time. “…It’s only seven in the evening.”
“It’s dark,” Liang Ye looked at the pitch-black forest outside the floor-to-ceiling window. “Come to bed with Zhen.”
“Hmm.” Wang Dian responded perfunctorily, one hand caressing his ankle while continuing to scroll through the screen.
Five minutes later, Liang Ye’s patience ran out. He crawled over, slammed a hand down on Wang Dian’s computer, tossed the annoying little metal thing onto the carpet, and pinned Wang Dian beneath him. Lowering his head, he bit off the glasses from Wang Dian’s nose bridge. “Look at Zhen.”
Wang Dian held his face and gave it a fierce squeeze. “I need to finish the company business.”
“Sell it,” Liang Ye seemed to envision Wang Dian staying up late to diligently review memorials and instantly felt annoyed. “Were you this hardworking when you were the emperor before?”
Wang Dian narrowed his eyes and carefully thought back, then replied with a straight face. “Yes, Zhen was always diligent.”
Completely untrue.
He had disliked reading memorials even more than Liang Ye. When the mood struck, he’d even burn memorials to roast sweet potatoes, often driving the old man Wen Zong to tears of frustration.
“Why does Zhen find that so hard to believe?” Liang Ye looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. “How did you deal with Wen Henshen afterward?”
Perhaps because witnessing Wang Dian’s death had been too traumatic, Liang Ye always avoided mentioning the word “death” in front of him. However, Wang Dian didn’t mind at all and occasionally even brought it up maliciously to provoke him. When he pushed too far, he would have to console Liang Ye with gentle words. Overall, Liang Ye was no longer as resistant to this matter as he had been initially.
He even started asking about it proactively.
“Ah.” Wang Dian stared into space, recalling for a long while before vaguely saying, “Just did this here, and that there, and finally achieved my goal. So when facing difficulties, we shouldn’t give up easily—we forge our own paths—mmph.”
Liang Ye gripped his throat, looking fierce. “Tell me properly.”
“I can’t remember some critical parts clearly, can’t connect it all,” Wang Dian blinked slowly. “I’ll tell you when I remember everything.”
“So what have you remembered?” Liang Ye clearly wasn’t going to let it go easily.
“I remember how to strip bones most beautifully.” Wang Dian’s hand languidly moved up his forearm, his smiling eyes fixed on him. “I also remember… that jade pendant Shen Yueli took from you was indeed because you accidentally lost it.”
Liang Ye snorted softly. “Because you lost yours too? Did Shen Yueli force you to marry her as well?”
“I didn’t lose mine.” Wang Dian’s smile deepened.
“What do you mean?” Liang Ye frowned.
“Do you know why it took me so long to decide to reincarnate as a human?” Wang Dian calmly said things that would send chills down one’s spine. “Because I discovered I couldn’t directly kill you.”
Liang Ye’s expression instantly contorted. “You still wanted to kill Zhen?”
“I naturally had easier methods,” Wang Dian’s face showed a tender yet eerie smile as he raised his hand and made a gesture in the air. “I went back once before reincarnating. You were about—this tall? A fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy, particularly annoying.”
“When was this?” Liang Ye stared at him in displeasure. “Why doesn’t Zhen remember? Why didn’t you just find Zhen in person? Even at fourteen or fifteen, Zhen could have crushed you, you—”
“Where do you get so many questions?” Wang Dian covered his mouth with one hand, saying sinisterly, “If I could have directly killed you in person, you little brat…”
****
Northern Liang, eighth year of Ding’an.
Liang Ye was fifteen.
At fifteen, the young emperor was full of rebellion. The powerful Cui Yuxian, the inconsistent Bian Yunxin, the constantly nagging Wen Zong, the occasionally strict and terrifying Yue Jingming, and the ignorant Chong Heng who always trailed behind him asking for candy… everything in the palace made him feel bored and weary.
He packed a few things into his sleeve pouch, crawled out through a dog hole, and decided to enjoy a few days of carefree fun like those worry-free young masters from noble families. He didn’t bother thinking about what would happen when he returned to the palace; he’d deal with punishments or scoldings when the time came.
So he decisively bought a fast horse and left the capital, attempting to head straight for the northern frontier.
Tan Yishuang often told him about the northern frontier—its people, its sky, its deserts and fierce winds. Although she had only heard about it from Bian Rufeng, it was enough to captivate the fifteen-year-old boy.
The young emperor, who rarely traveled far, was completely enchanted by the bustling towns along the way. At that time, Northern Liang had not yet reached its dire straits. He spent most of the silver he had brought, buying a pile of completely worthless trinkets. Even a pastry from a street stall could make his eyes light up. He even enthusiastically played the hero, chasing away villains who were forcibly abducting village women, giving silver to a small girl selling meat to bury her father, single-handedly taking on dozens of mountain bandits while thoughtfully leaving survivors…
Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last long. The palace people quickly caught up with him. The lethal techniques of those secret guards aroused his ferocity. On a dark and windy night, he carried a heavy broadsword, stepping over severed limbs and scattered remains, kicking a human head down the mountain in boredom while humming a lively tune.
That was when Wang Dian saw him.
The slightly frail youth with a high ponytail carrying a broadsword, his face and body splattered with others’ blood, kicking someone’s unfortunate head, with a grim and twisted smile that made him look like a little madman.
At that time, Wang Dian wasn’t yet called Wang Dian. He still believed he was the deceased Liang Ye. After a long passage of time, seeing his younger self again, with the small red mole on his chest emitting a faint black mist, his eyes instantly flashed with manic and excited light as he charged directly toward Liang Ye.
Then he was nearly shattered, soul and all, by the powerful imperial purple energy surrounding the other.
Not believing it, Wang Dian stubbornly rushed forward again.
Young Liang Ye seemed to sense something, vigilantly stepping on the head at his feet and looking in Wang Dian’s direction, yet all he saw was a swaying emerald willow leaf blown down by the wind.
He whistled loudly, raised his hand to catch the willow leaf, and then suddenly turned his head, but still saw nothing but pitch darkness.
The adult form of Wang Dian floated in midair, so close that their noses nearly touched, his crimson eyes greedily fixed on him, savoring the living breath of the other, swallowing hard twice.
“Tsk.” Liang Ye inexplicably felt a chill down his spine. Although he had never believed in such things, he had just brutally killed so many people. He kicked the head away and turned to leave.
Unexpectedly, the next moment, a sharp pain shot through his head, turning his face pale as he staggered back several steps, nearly falling to his knees.
Wang Dian watched with schadenfreude.
He remembered that originally, he had suffered a headache here for three days and three nights because he hadn’t drunk the White Jade Soup, nearly losing half his life, before being forcibly taken back to the imperial palace by Cui Yuxian’s people.
Without the White Jade Soup to suppress it, the Maple Frost Fall would only grow worse, causing unbearable pain. Liang Ye’s vitality was being consumed bit by bit, and the imperial purple energy around his body gradually became thin.
Wang Dian reached out his hand, and as he wished, gripped the young boy’s warm, slender neck.
With his neck seized by an invisible hand, an icy chill shot straight to the top of his head. Even through the excruciating pain, Liang Ye remained vigilant, straightening his back, yet all around him was still darkness as thick as ink.
Cold breath brushed against his face. In a place the youth couldn’t see, Wang Dian pressed against his face with a grin, his crimson eyes excited to the point of trembling, his mouth twisted into an eerie and horrifying arc.
He bit down on Liang Ye’s head.
