The Strategy Of Washing Clean A Slag Shou Chapter 22

TL's notes :

Certain forms of address will henceforth be retained in its Pinyin forms.

Try familiarizing yourself with them first before reading. This mini pre-chapter appendix will change according to the terms that appear within every chapter.

Róng Qīnwáng (荣亲王) - Jing Cheng's current t.i.tle, our ML. Qīnwáng means Prince (of the first rank)
Wángyé (王爷) – Brother of the Emperor. Referring to Jing Cheng.
Wángfēi niángniáng (王妃娘娘) – Or just Wángfēi (depending on the addresser). Wife of the Prince. Referring to Su Yang.
Fūjūn (夫君) – Husband

And now, onwards to our possessive ML.

The Prince's escaped fiancée (Arc 2-5)

At this time, within the Imperial City, in the Eastern Palace of the current Crown Prince, a heavy stillness hung in the air. The eunuchs within were sweating profusely, barely daring to breathe as the two warring individuals engaged each other with thinly veiled animosity.

This was in part, due to Greater Ming's famed G.o.d of War, the cold faced demon who sent shockwaves radiating for miles throughout the Northern desert border, the one conferred with the t.i.tle of Rong Qīnwáng by the current Emperor, who was currently within the Eastern Palace.

Jing Cheng was clad head to toe in black and red robes, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. As he spoke, his voice was entirely devoid of emotion. “The Art of War says; Whoever is first in the field and awaits the coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is second in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive exhausted. What this means, is that circ.u.mstance will favor those who take the preemptive action on the battlefield, and the soldier who delays can only react, having lost the initiative.”

His Royal Highness the Crown Prince was gently waving a jade fan lacquered in gold, his expression idle and his eyes slightly squinted with feigned confusion. He drew out his words as he spoke, “Just a moment please, these tactics are too unfathomable. I still don't quite understand, could I trouble Imperial Uncle to break it down and explain the details to me again?”

Jing Cheng asked: “If I may ask, which part does Your Royal Highness not understand?”

The corners of Jing Sheng's lips curled up. “All of it.”

The temperature within the hall seemed to plunge to freezing point at his words. A few of the more timid serving maids dropped to the ground on their knees in terror, while those who managed to remain standing were visibly shaking.

“I see.” Jing Cheng tilted his head with a faint smile.

He turned and walked to the bookcase, pulled out a thick tome t.i.tled {{An Explanation on Language and Cla.s.sical Writings}} and tossed it in front of Jing Sheng. “Based on Your Royal Highness's current apt.i.tude, it would seem that you are not yet suited to studying The Art of War. It would be best to start from the basics then. Make a hundred copies of this book and send it to my palace, I will check each and every word. The task will be doubled if there are any mistakes.”

Jing Sheng's face turned unsightly. “What does Imperial Uncle mean by this? Pray tell how I did wrong, to have deserved such punishment by Imperial Uncle.”

Jing Cheng said, “You did no wrong.”

“Then—-”

“Your Royal Highness did no wrong, it's simply that I have always been too impatient,” Jing Cheng continued icily. “But I confess that I have not expected Your Royal Highness to be this dim witted. Since it was your wish to study The Art of War, then you will do as I say. If Your Royal Highness is not willing, do me the kindness of requesting His Majesty the Emperor to relieve me of the burden of being your tutor, lest you stain my name.”

Jing Sheng's entire face was red with fury. “Rong Qīnwáng, you—-!”

Jing Cheng's lips curled up mockingly. “The hour grows late, I will excuse myself first. Do remember to copy the book.”

He turned and left without another word, leaving Jing Sheng fairly hopping with fury in the Eastern Palace.

Su Yang spent an entire half day waiting within Jing Cheng's residence. He went through the stages of : panic – trepidation – drowsiness – sleeping – waking – boredom.

It was a well-known fact that boredom breeds mischief. Su Yang proved with his own actions that this saying was not groundless and in fact, had a certain scientific basis to it!

He had been mulling over how he has been in this world for several days now, stricken with terror every time he hears the two words ‘Jing Cheng', leading to no progress to the mission whatsoever. He can't continue to decline like this, he must rise up! He will wield his beauty and charms to conquer Jing Cheng!

The system jeered at him: “Wait till your legs stop shaking first.”

Su Yang: “…….”

This is a normal physiological reaction, okay!

In order to prove his determination, Su Yang slapped a hand on the table, stood up, and headed straight for the back garden. By clambering up a tree whose upper trunk was twisted and grew sideways, he scaled the two foot wall. That's right, the main court of the Mo-Lin palace hall and the gardens at the back were actually adjacent to one another, with only a wall serving as a divider between them.

That is to say, as long as you make it over this wall, you can sneak into Jing Cheng's quarters without anyone the wiser!

He saddled the wall, feeling immensely pleased with himself. He wanted to crow his victory; from this lofty height, it was as if the whole world was kneeling at his feet giving him praise. That high and mighty Wángyé's room was right in front of him, once he figures out what makes that man tick, wouldn't it be child's play to grasp at that man's weaknesses and strike them down one by one?

Su Yang pumped his fist excitedly, as if he had glimpsed the dawn of hope.

The raspy voice of an elderly floor sweeper drifted over. "Ei, Old Liu, do you see someone on top of the wall?"

Thanks to this, Su Yang received a nasty shock, and toppled off the wall beautifully to the other side. Luckily, he managed to land on all fours, the impact making his teeth jar as he stifled his cry.

He heard the old woman say: "It's gone now? But I saw it just now."

Old Liu laughed teasingly: "The sky's so dark, mayhap you saw wrong. Only the Wángfēi niángniáng lives in this palace hall, I hear it's a young son of the Minister of Revenue, an extremely precious and pampered child. There's no reason for him to be climbing up trees.”

When these two people eventually left, the precious and pampered son of the Minister of Revenue slowly got to his feet, calmly picking the weeds from his hair before limping into Jing Cheng's sleeping quarters.

Still a little shaken from the earlier episode, he began to reconsider his choices. Things weren't really going well today, best to quickly get this over and done with.

When he pushed open the doors, he felt a cold breeze blowing over his back, which gave rise to a familiar ominous premonition!

The interior of the room was only dimly lit by a few candlesticks, a stark contrast to the brightly illuminated side palace hall. The quarters looked gloomy and deserted, cold and cheerless, just like the man himself. It evoked a cold sense of apprehension and foreboding.

He picked up a candlestick from the table and stepped in. The further he went, the stronger the sense of wrongness grew.

If the side palace hall is described as a deluxe suite, then this ordinary looking two-room hall would be the reasonably priced, readily affordable apartment. The disparity was too jarring. With Jing Cheng's current status and prestige, was it really necessary to skimp on himself like this? Or did he simply favour the plain and ascetic style?

Su Yang said to the system: “Could it be that Jing Cheng is the type who is embroiled within the workings of political machinations, but secretly yearns for the uncomplicated life of a rural farmer? What a strange character!”

The system: “…….”

Su Yang was about to continue down this line of thought, when his foot suddenly caught on something. He tripped and fell, the candlestick in his hand snuffed out from the violent impact with the ground.

He reached out and groped around, and found what seemed to be a slender chain, st.u.r.dily crafted from some unknown material. It emanated a deep chill, threatening to invade down to the very bone marrow. He reflexively flung it away, his fingers still tingling from the strange cold touch.

Why would there be such a thing in Jing Cheng's quarters? And for it to be right at the bedside…..

He hadn't yet processed what this could mean, when the doors were pushed open. A tall figure stepped in slowly; the features were shrouded in the dark, but Su Yang knew it was Jing Cheng.

His eyes were calm, without the slightest ripple of emotion to disturb its serene, inky depths. Even in the dark of the night, they seemed to gleam with a cold light.

Jing Cheng did not approach Su Yang immediately. He walked around once, lighting the candles in the room. The room was soon filled with a soft, warm light, but Su Yang still felt cold. His instincts were blaring alarm bells, telling him that something terrible was about to happen.

He lay petrified on the ground, clad in the rich and multilayered vivid crimson robes which were donned this morning. His long, dark hair cascaded over his shoulders in disarray, his soft and full lips a pleasing pink, the entire image bringing to mind a China rose in full bloom during the month of May. He stared at Jing Cheng with guileless and dewy eyes, disguising his internal pleas for divine intervention.

He whispered timidly, “I, I was hungry, I wanted to eat, but no one bothered with me, so I climbed over the wall to look for food, but there's none here either…..”

Su Yang may as well have been talking to himself, for all the response Jing Cheng gave him as he calmly lit the last candle.

He walked over to stand in front of Su Yang, looking down at him condescendingly. He spoke in an unhurried manner: “I heard that you have lost your memory, and that your head's not quite right.”

Su Yang said nothing, an idiot would never admit himself to being an idiot, and blinked at Jing Cheng vacantly.

“Quite frankly, it's good if it's true, if not, it doesn't matter either, I couldn't care less.” He drew out his words: “All I want, is someone who would never leave me, and would never betray me.”

“………” Boss, you're really persistent aren't you!

Jing Cheng slowly crouched down to face Su Yang, lifted a lock of hair from his shoulder and brought it close to his face, inhaling the scent. He murmured, “Today, I meant to pick you up myself, but I was called away at the last minute and was held back by matters. Are you angry?”

Su Yang blinked again, and shook his head with his cheeks lightly puffed, looking like a peeved little squirrel.

Angry? He wouldn't dare!

A trace of amus.e.m.e.nt flickered in Jing Cheng's dark eyes. Although it was faint, but it was clear he was in good humour.

He gazed fixedly at Su Yang's limpid eyes, and whispered, “I have a gift for you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he lifted Su Yang's hand, pushing back the long, flowing sleeves to reveal the fair and slender wrist. The bruises he inflicted during his last visit at the Minister's home were still faintly visible.

He quirked a brow. “Does it still hurt?”

Su Yang nodded, his eyes wide with fear as he struggled to pull his hand back, but the grip on him tightened, not allowing him to budge.

Cornered way no other alternative, he gave a low cry: “You bully, why are you hurting me again, it still hurts from last time… Fūjūn……”

Jing Cheng's movements halted. It felt like something had just brushed over his heart with a quivering touch, inexplicably giving rise to a faint itch.

He gazed at Su Yang. “Who taught you this?”

Su Yang answered him candidly: “…..Mother taught me, she said other people will call you Fifth Wángyé, but I have to call you Fūjūn.”

Jing Cheng lowered his lashes. After a while, the corners of his lips twitched upwards. “Fool, how could you sell your mother out like this, if she finds out, she'll probably die from rage.”

Su Yang maintained a look of naiveté, and cautiously tried to retract his hand, but Jing Cheng yanked him into his arms. A sudden coldness permeated his wrist. He looked down numbly at the silver bracelet which lay gleaming against his skin.

The bracelet was connected to the chain which Su Yang had tripped over earlier. A bitter, freezing chill swept through his body like a hundred thousand fine wires.

Jing Cheng inspected his wrist for a moment. “It's a good fit.”

Su Yang desperately wanted to cry, but his expression remained naïve as he stared at Jing Cheng. Jing Cheng lowered his head and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

“With this, you can no longer run away.”

Thanks for reading.

-Syeki