Ning Rushen was startled: Is this something I’m supposed to hear?

—And what’s worse, it didn’t even sound like a good fortune.

He glanced at Li Wuting’s expression. “If I listen, will I still be able to walk out alive and breathing afterward?”

“…”

Li Wuting replied gently, “Ning Qing, you can even leave while singing mountain songs.”

Ning Rushen’s curiosity was immediately piqued. After hesitating for two seconds, he couldn’t hold back the itch in his heart anymore.

“…Then, shall I hear it?”

With a few steps, the two entered the arrow pavilion.

Li Wuting cast him a glance and then waved the palace attendants outside to guard the door.

With a soft rustle, everyone dispersed, leaving only the two of them in the pavilion.

Ning Rushen was tense with anticipation, his eyes trailing after Li Wuting, only to see the man step aside and retrieve a bow, which he handed over.

“Practice for me. Let’s see if you’ve forgotten what I taught you.”

“…”

Weren’t they going to talk about the fortune?

Facing Li Wuting’s gesturing eyes, Ning Rushen swallowed his words, took the bow, and said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

It had been a long time since he practiced, and he felt a little rusty.

He drew the bowstring with one arm, aiming at the target ahead, his chest open and back straight. His waist, cinched tightly with a golden-embroidered sash, was taut and poised.

“Have you forgotten again?”

Li Wuting moved behind him, raising a hand, hesitating slightly. “Can you handle it?”

The low voice came from just behind his ear. While straining to pull the bow, Ning Rushen stifled the heat rising to his ears. “I… can.”

The hand began adjusting his shoulder and arm, guiding him.

A wave of tingling numbness traveled lightly down his spine.

But Ning Rushen’s mind was still stuck on the earlier matter:

Why hasn’t he said anything yet? Could it be that he wanted to test his archery skills first and would only speak after he hit the target?

That’s probably what Li Wuting meant.

Resolving himself, he focused entirely on aiming.

Ning Rushen directed all his attention to the target, gradually tuning out everything around him. He concentrated intensely until a low voice suddenly sounded from behind him:

“The fortune said…”

“I will have no wife, no offspring. A solitary dragon cursed by the stars.”

The warm breath brushing by carried a familiar shiver, and the thunderous words seemed to hammer straight into his eardrums.

Ning Rushen’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in shock!

His fingers slipped—whoosh!

The arrow flew through the air, piercing the bullseye with a sharp thud.

The person behind him stepped back. Still holding the bow, Ning Rushen turned around in a daze, looking at Li Wuting.

Li Wuting glanced at the arrow in the bullseye and commented:

“Not bad.”

“…”

Not bad, my foot!!!

Recalling those words, Ning Rushen almost wanted to yell at Li Wuting. Doesn’t that just mean…

Lonely and miserable, dying alone?

He couldn’t even bring himself to think of the last part.

When he looked at Li Wuting again, the other man’s expression was calm as usual, looking back at him as if nothing had happened. He even reached out and closed Ning Rushen’s gaping mouth.

“Ning Qing, with your mouth open so wide, are you preparing to sing mountain songs?”

“…”

Ning Rushen steadied himself with difficulty. “If Your Majesty wishes to hear, I shall oblige.”

Say it, Your Majesty. I’ll indulge you.

Li Wuting lowered his eyes, seeming to chuckle faintly. “Ning Qing, are you pitying me?”

In his heart, Ning Rushen thought, Not really.

He just couldn’t bear the thought of Li Wuting, who treated him so kindly and ruled the people so lovingly, being cursed with such a fate.

He dodged the issue. “This subject merely wishes to make sounds that bring Your Majesty joy.”

Li Wuting silently studied him for a moment.

Suddenly, a hand pressed down on his head. Warm, slightly rough fingers threaded through his black hair, brushing against his scalp in a way that sent a tingling sensation through him.

Ning Rushen froze, looking up: Huh?

Two seconds later, the hand on his head gave his skull a firm shake.

“???” Dizzy, Ning Rushen protested, “Your Majesty… what are you shaking for?”

“To listen to the sounds in Ning Qing’s head.”

Li Wuting tilted his head and said, “It’s quite hollow. I enjoy it.”

“…”

Fine, Your Majesty. You’re lonely, so I’ll let you have this.

Just as Ning Rushen’s head was spinning, a cautious voice called from outside:

“Your Majesty, the Zuo Shanshi from the Monk Registry Office seeks an audience.”

Li Wuting withdrew his hand. “Let him wait.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ning Rushen took the chance to smooth down his hair, which had been tousled from the shaking.

Above him, Li Wuting said suddenly, “Ning Qing needn’t worry for me. I have long come to terms with it.”

Ning Rushen looked up.

Li Wuting’s coldly handsome face showed no hint of distress, as unshaken as a mountain.

Ning Rushen’s messy thoughts unexpectedly calmed down. Feeling somewhat reassured, he comforted himself: Fine, if the heavens close several doors for Li Wuting, surely they’ll open a window somewhere.

He reassured Li Wuting, “Your Majesty will have other blessings.”

Li Wuting looked at him for a few moments, his expression unreadable. “You may leave.”

Ning Rushen was about to bow and retreat when he was stopped.

“Ning Qing,” Li Wuting’s voice carried a subtle weight, “this is a significant matter. You’re the only one I’ve told.”

Ning Rushen understood. “This subject will carry this secret to the grave.”

“…”

Li Wuting waved him off lightly. “No need for that.”

With hurried preparations underway, the Tianzhu Festival arrived in no time.

On the sixth day of the sixth lunar month, commoners aired their scriptures and dried their clothes.

In this first year of his reign, the new emperor chose to personally visit Shaojue Temple for prayers and blessings.

This grand event was unlike any other.

Not only were there senior ministers and the emperor’s personal guards, but even Dowager Concubine Shu and Prince Jingyu joined the entourage.

Ning Rushen had been summoned to follow the group.

The grand procession arrived at the foot of Shaoguang Mountain.

Looking out, the entire mountain was shrouded in lush green canopies, with golden pagoda tips peeking through the misty clouds. The sound of bells reverberated gently in the distance.

Li Wuting descended from his imperial carriage first, choosing to ascend on foot.

Ning Rushen followed among the officials, keeping some distance from the bright yellow figure at the front. As he watched Li Wuting from afar, someone suddenly popped up beside him:

“Ning Daren, are you looking at Imperial Brother?”

“…”

Ning Rushen lowered his head to see Li Jingyu, who had somehow squeezed his way over. “Why are you here, Your Highness?”

Li Jingyu replied, “To talk to you.”

Ning Rushen thought for a moment. “Alright.”

The two began climbing the mountain together.

As Ning Rushen looked up at the temple roof of Shaojue Temple, he remembered the words Li Wuting had shared with him that day.

He glanced at the little prince’s short legs: So, was Li Wuting planning to pass the throne to Jingyu?

Li Jingyu noticed Ning Rushen’s gaze and asked sharply, “Ning Daren, what are you looking at?”

Climbing another section of the path, Ning Rushen, slightly out of breath, tried to hint, “Your Highness is growing taller by the day. It’s clear you’re standing upright and possess excellent potential… phew. In the future, you can shoulder more responsibility for His Majesty…”

Before he could finish, a small hand propped him up.

Li Jingyu looked at his pale, delicate face and declared, “Imperial Brother likely won’t need to. This prince shall first shoulder Ning Daren.”

“…”

Ning Rushen smiled weakly, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Half an hour later, they finally reached Shaojue Temple.

The temple gates were simple and majestic, exuding an air of tranquility and timelessness. Bathed in sunlight, they seemed to glimmer with a faint golden glow.

Ning Rushen followed the group into the temple.

The monks had already prepared for their arrival.

The abbot, clad in a golden-red robe, greeted them with a serene smile.

“Your humble monk welcomes the holy presence.”

After a series of ceremonial greetings, everyone was ushered into the hall.

The grand hall was spotless, with a majestic golden Buddha presiding.

After a round of intricate rituals, Ning Rushen prayed and bowed several times amidst the chanting and ringing of bells. Only then was the blessing concluded.

The rest of the time was left for individual incense offerings and candle lighting.

Everyone dispersed.

Ning Rushen stood up, his gaze wandering past the officials and monks moving about, until it fell on Li Wuting.

Standing not far away, Li Wuting faced the kind-looking abbot. Their low conversation reached his ears faintly:

“Master Jingxi.”

“Your Majesty, it’s been a long time.”

At these words, Li Wuting’s expression flickered slightly, though the odd look quickly vanished.

Ning Rushen caught the moment from a distance.

What’s with “a long time”? he thought. Did they expect to see each other every day?

The two exchanged a few more words before Master Jingxi turned sideways and gestured “please.” Li Wuting stepped forward, disappearing into the back of the hall with him.

The two figures soon vanished from sight.

Ning Rushen stood there, his gaze still lingering.

Just then, someone tugged at his sleeve.

Li Jingyu tilted his head up and asked, “Ning Daren, are you sneaking a look at Imperial Brother again?”

Ning Rushen glanced down: What do you mean sneaking a look?

It’s not like he was climbing walls like Prince Xuan.

He skipped the topic. “What is it, Your Highness?”

Li Jingyu said, “Imperial Brother and Dowager Concubine Shu went to the back. This prince wants to light a candle for blessings. Will Ning Daren join me?”

Ning Rushen nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Mm.” Li Jingyu happily leaned closer to him.

Ning Rushen initially thought the places for incense and prayers would be straightforward.

But after following Li Jingyu through twists and turns, he found himself in a secluded courtyard deep within the temple.

The little monk at the gate bowed. “Your Highness.”

Li Jingyu led Ning Rushen inside as if he knew the place well.

Inside the courtyard, Ning Rushen was greeted by an ancient, serene sight. The yellowed walls exuded a weathered charm, and in one corner, a towering Bodhi tree stood lush and green.

At the front of the courtyard, a Buddha statue was flanked by lotus-shaped lamps in niches.

Before the statue was a bronze cauldron filled with clear water. Floating atop were delicate lotus-shaped golden lanterns, each holding a small, flickering flame.

Li Jingyu tugged Ning Rushen closer, whispering, “These golden lanterns are rare and exquisite. Only twenty-eight are distributed each year. This prince secretly brought you here—don’t tell the others.”

Ning Rushen nodded. “I won’t.”

A little monk brought them two lanterns.

Li Jingyu asked, “Has Ning Daren decided what to pray for?”

Ning Rushen paused.

In this world, he had no family or connections. His own life was stable and satisfying, and he had no major desires—except for wanting to retire early with enough silver in his pocket.

Staring at the radiant golden lotus lamp, a thought of the unlucky Li Wuting suddenly popped into his head.

Remembering all the luxurious treats and care he had received, Ning Rushen’s conscience stirred.

“I’ll pray for His Majesty.”

Li Jingyu’s eyes sparkled. “Oh…”

Ning Rushen turned to him. “What about you, Your Highness?”

Li Jingyu replied, “Imperial Brother has always protected me, but I’ve never been able to repay him. Naturally, I’ll pray for him too.”

Seizing the moment, Ning Rushen advised, “Your Highness, your intention is commendable. In the future… just do what you can to support His Majesty.”

Li Jingyu pondered this. “Ning Daren is right.”

Ning Rushen smiled. “Let’s pray, then.”

With that, he placed the lotus lamp on the water’s surface and lit the wick.

Li Jingyu followed suit, saying, “Lighting a candle for Imperial Brother.”

“…Lighting a candle for His Majesty,” Ning Rushen echoed.

Together, they clasped their hands and closed their eyes. “Amitabha.”

May the heavens bless Li Wuting with a life full of happiness, free of loneliness.

Elsewhere, in the tranquil Jingxin Hall, surrounded by wafting incense, Li Wuting sat across from Master Jingxi. His elegant face bore a contemplative air.

The master smiled warmly. “The last time I saw Your Majesty was at this very time.”

Li Wuting murmured an acknowledgment.

His thoughts wandered back fifteen years, to the first year of the Chenghua era in his past life. It was also on the Tianzhu Festival that he first met Master Jingxi—and received the fortune reading of “no wife, no offspring, a cursed lone dragon.”

“This time, the emperor’s heart feels much different from before,” Master Jingxi remarked.

“When one has experienced more, change is inevitable.”

Li Wuting’s long fingers tapped lightly on his knee.

In his previous life, he had spent decades in a barren palace. Even when the court insisted he wed a noblewoman, all efforts to bring someone into the palace failed for various reasons.

Old factions took the opportunity to spread rumors, sparking chaos in the court, which took him great effort to quell.

“Is it the same fortune this time?” Li Wuting asked.

“The same,” Master Jingxi replied with a nod.

Li Wuting smiled faintly, indifferent. He rose to leave. “Thank you, Master.”

As he was about to step out of Jingxin Hall, the master’s voice stopped him.

“The same, but only the fortune is unchanged.”

Li Wuting froze mid-step.

Turning back, he looked at the serene master sitting on a meditation mat. In the quiet, incense-filled room, the monk’s warm smile didn’t waver. Sunlight slanted through the lattice window, scattering motes of dust in the air.

The fortune may be the same, but so much else has changed.

A flicker of emotion stirred in Li Wuting’s chest.

He softly thanked the master once more before striding away.

The emperor’s visit to Shaojue Temple was to last two days and one night.

However, not all the officials needed to stay overnight. By evening, most of the senior ministers had taken their leave.

Ning Rushen did not leave with them.

For some reason, he felt he shouldn’t slip away just yet.

Besides, he was too tired to move—climbing the mountain had drained most of his energy, and escorting the energetic Jingyu around all afternoon had depleted the rest.

After dinner, he returned to the small monk’s quarters prepared for him.

Ning Rushen sought out a young monk and requested a bucket of hot water.

Once the door was closed, he draped his discarded robes over the half-open screen and sank into the warm bathwater with a sigh of relief.

The steamy water quickly turned his pale skin a soft pink.

His dark hair floated lazily in the water, while the rising steam enveloped his entire body, soothing every ache and weariness from the day.

Hanging over the edge of the wooden tub, Ning Rushen closed his eyes and drifted off.

…

Two quarters of an hour later.

The little monk, estimating that it was time, returned to retrieve the bathwater. At the door, he found it closed, and the room silent.

He knocked lightly. “Ning Benefactor?”

The soft sound of knocking blended into Ning Rushen’s dreams. Deep in sleep, he didn’t stir at all.

Hearing no response after calling out twice more, the monk grew worried. He thought of Ning Rushen’s frail appearance and hesitated. Should he call someone to check?

While he was deliberating, a young voice suddenly piped up:

“Little monk, is Ning Daren here?”

The monk turned to see Li Jingyu and immediately bowed. “He is. But Ning Benefactor requested bathwater earlier and isn’t responding now. I fear something may have happened, but I’m unsure if I should summon help.”

Li Jingyu’s face lit up with alarm. “Of course, we need help! I’ll go call—”

Before finishing, he spun around and ran off.

The monk stared at the little prince darting away, flustered. “Your Highness, where are you going?”

“To do what I can for Imperial Brother!”

“…To help His Majesty? Shouldn’t this be for Ning Benefactor??”

In the temple courtyard.

Li Wuting sat at a table, quietly flipping through a scripture.

He had changed out of his dragon robes, and his dark casual attire made his jade-like fingers look even more elegant as they brushed over the aged pages.

De Quan stood nearby, attending him. White smoke curled lazily from the incense burner.

The tranquility was abruptly broken by a shout.

“Imperial Brother!”

Li Wuting raised his head, only to see Li Jingyu charging in like a little arrow, clutching at his knee.

He frowned slightly. “What has you so flustered?”

“Ning Daren has fainted in the bath, and he’s not responding!”

Li Jingyu was frantic. “Imperial Brother, save him, please!”

Author’s Note:

Ning Daren’s mission: to become the next successor for the lonely emperor.

Li Jingyu’s mission: to hand over a sleeping Ning Daren to Imperial Brother.

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Li Jingyu: I’ve learned nothing again! Lighting a candle.jpg

Ning Daren: ???