“I told you before not to follow me again.” Ming Zhang courteously poured Han Zhen a cup of tea. “But a guest is still a guest. I am not without manners. After this cup, please return, Commander Han.”
“I suppose you’ve already heard the news. I’ll be leaving the capital tomorrow.” Han Zhen ignored Ming Zhang’s undisguised dismissal and instead stepped closer. “I came this time only to remind you, some things should not be done again.”
The clear tea still rippled gently in the cup, steadily catching the last drop. The one pouring showed no reaction to those words, instead lifting his eyes with a faint smile.
“Heh, what I do has nothing to do with you.”
“If you harm His Majesty or those around him, then it has everything to do with me!” Han Zhen no longer restrained his presence as before, pressing forward step by step. They were of similar build, and Ming Zhang was in no way inferior. He met his gaze and smiled coldly.
“Those around His Majesty? Am I not one of them?”
“Ming Zhang, you know what I mean.”
At this moment, Han Zhen was nothing like the silent man Ming Zhang knew. Even though he still maintained composure on the surface, his heart started beating uncontrollably faster,
“What do I need to know?” Ming Zhang turned away, masking a trace of unease with his same cold tone. “Han Zhen, since when is it your turn to lecture me?”
Indeed, whether by status, position, or closeness, he seemed to have no right to question Ming Zhang. But by Han Zhen’s heart alone, he couldn’t just stand by and watch him step into irredeemable ruin.
“Ming Zhang…” Han Zhen looked at his back, gradually restraining his oppressive hostility, and sighed softly. “Perhaps everyone in the world thinks the one who understands you best is His Majesty, but I dare say the only one who truly knows you, Ming Zhang, is me.”
The room fell into a deathly silence in an instant. Even Ming Zhang, who never yielded in words, went quiet.
Yes, aside from Han Zhen, no one knew that he was actually a vengeful and ruthless person, not even the emperor, who had grown up eating and living alongside him, knew that.
Back then, Ming Zhang knew his master(LXM) was not the most powerful, and he knew his own family was not strong enough to protect him. But he despised those who spoke out of turn and schemed in secret, even when it was nothing more than childish mischief that could not truly hurt anyone.
He would take revenge and use any means necessary. Yet he was indeed clever, so no one ever suspected him. After all, in those days he was the most gentle, respectful, and modest student in the tutor’s eyes. If one word had to describe the young Ming Zhang, most would have chosen “forbearance.”
Until one time, when he turned around, he discovered that Han Zhen had been following behind him at some unknown point. The panic he felt at that moment was unforgettable. He thought everything he had painstakingly built was about to be destroyed, and he had even begun maliciously considering how to make Han Zhen disappear without a trace.
But Han Zhen only looked at him calmly and extended a hand. In his palm lay a familiar sapphire-blue silk tassel, its fringe swaying lightly in the breeze.
“You dropped this there. It wouldn’t be good if someone saw it.”
Startled, Ming Zhang lowered his head. Sure enough, the tassel on his belt was gone. However, he regained his composure in the next instant,
“You saw it?”
Han Zhen nodded. As expected, there was not a trace of surprise on his face. “Mhm. Not just once.”
Ming Zhang suddenly laughed, open and unrestrained. A secret, unfamiliar feeling rippled through his heart. So tearing off the mask completely could feel this liberating!
From that day on, Han Zhen no longer deliberately concealed himself. Meanwhile, Ming Zhang would sometimes even leave flaws on purpose, then watch as they vanished without a trace. Perhaps at the time Han Zhen did not understand why he himself acted that way, but Ming Zhang understood Han Zhen’s affection for him.
“Yes, you’re the only one who understands me best.”
The cup of tea Ming Zhang had poured had long gone cold, but neither of them cared. He turned back around and looked straight into those eyes filled with worry, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. “Han Zhen, don’t you like me? Why won’t you clean up after me this time?”
Han Zhen’s pupils contracted slightly. He had never imagined that the feelings buried deep within him would be exposed so directly at this moment. His heart pounded as if struck by a heavy hammer, a ringing filled his ears.
“I…”
“Or have you also been bewitched by Yan Yihuan and will now be loyal to him?”
“The one I serve is only His Majesty,” Han Zhen said, forcing down the panic in his heart, “and those whom His Majesty values.”
“So?” A trace of indescribable pain flashed through Ming Zhang’s hard gaze, even his lips paled slightly. “So I’m not one of those he values, is that it?”
“No…” Han Zhen unconsciously raised his hand, then hesitated, leaving it suspended in midair, as if afraid of defiling something, before lightly touching the person he had long thought about. “You are the one I value.”
Ming Zhang’s heart trembled slightly. All his senses seemed to gather at that barely-there touch on his arm. He said nothing, even wondering why, in that moment, he wished Han Zhen would press harder so he could feel another person’s touch clearly.
How long had it been since he had any physical contact with someone? It seemed that after reaching adulthood, he had no longer had such contact even with His Majesty, nor did he wish to be close to others.
Perhaps it had simply been too long, and that was why he felt something so strange.
But now, the thin veil that had always stood between him and Han Zhen had been pierced through by his own hand. Although Han Zhen’s expression remained stern, his ears flushed red enough to almost drip blood, giving everything away.
As if sensing Ming Zhang’s direct gaze, Han Zhen awkwardly looked away. His fingers, though reluctant, slowly curled back, withdrawing from the fabric that still held a trace of warmth.
The faint sensation on his arm vanished at once. Ming Zhang felt his heart sink, an inexplicable sense of attachment arising.
Yet that withdrawal also snapped him somewhat back to his senses. Ming Zhang knew that in the past, he had acted as he pleased because Han Zhen would only silently clean up after him and never interfere.
But this time was different. This was the first time he had directly told him to stop. Then, would he report it to the emperor?
This usually quiet man, so easily overlooked, now seemed intent on slipping out of his control. A sudden streak of malice rose in Ming Zhang. He was startled at his own thought, yet what followed was an uncontrollable, eager anticipation.
“Fine, Han Zhen, I can agree to you.” Ming Zhang smiled without restraint, fully tearing away his usual facade. “But I want to see just how far you can go to not waste all these years you’ve liked me.”
His low, measured voice carried an unmistakable allure. Ming Zhang knew there was nothing that could move Han Zhen.
Except for himself.
A flicker of confusion passed through Han Zhen’s eyes as he watched those usually cold ones become tinged with a desire he had never seen before.
He had never seen such a look in those eyes, so direct and unguarded. Even the faint smile seemed so stirring that Han Zhen’s breathing quickened involuntarily.
“Ming…” Although Ming Zhang knew no martial arts, Han Zhen was still forced half a step back by him. With a clatter, the teacup was knocked over, its contents spilling across the table, yet neither of them paid it any mind.
“Shh.” Ming Zhang leaned slightly closer, his slender index finger lightly pressing against Han Zhen’s slightly parted lips. “If you’re unwilling, you can still leave now.”
The cool fingertip slid from his jaw down to his sensitive Adam’s apple. Han Zhen swallowed involuntarily, his once-deep eyes now dark and bottomless.
“I won’t leave.” Han Zhen’s voice had turned hoarse. “Even if this is just a dream, I’ll still be willing.”
As Ming Zhang’s smile deepened, his fingers slowly spread open, lightly resting at the front of Han Zhen’s neck. Seemingly drawn to those faintly trembling lips, his gaze fixed on them. He tried a light touch before pulling away, the sound of breathing by his ear growing heavy in that instant.
Hmm? This feels rather pleasant.
“But Han Zhen,” Ming Zhang’s breath brushed against his lips. Han Zhen restrained the urge to kiss him and listened quietly.
“I could never be beneath you, so… do you understand?”
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