Chapter Thirteen: A True Hero Indeed!
“Your Highness, I have two matters I do not understand and humbly seek your guidance,” Jian Qi said.
“Speak,” came the reply.
“How did you know I possess cultivation? And how did you know of my poison, and that this remedy would counteract it?”
Xue Yuan, of course, would never reveal that he had the help of a special ability, but he was prepared.
Calmly, he said, “That day, I saw you sitting beneath the eaves, your clothes tattered, yet your back straight as a rod. From that, I knew you were no ordinary man. Moreover, though you were so destitute, you did not sell your sword—I guessed you must be a swordsman.
“Fortunately, my guesses were correct. You not only have cultivation but also a noble heart. These past few days, it is thanks to your help that I have been able to hold my ground in the prince’s manor.”
Jian Qi corrected him, “I do not claim to have a noble heart. I helped you before because I pitied you; now I help you because you have shown me kindness.”
“...You speak plainly.”
“I also want to ask the second question.”
“That second question is a long story! Since I was twelve, I have feigned stupidity to avoid the palace intrigues of the harem, yet in secret, I have never slackened. Over the years, I have secretly studied the royal archives and once saw a secret medical text describing symptoms like yours, which is how I knew the cure.”
“You still remember the recipe for the antidote after all this time?”
“Indeed. Since childhood, I have had a photographic memory! Whatever I wish to remember, I will.”
Hmm, that was a bit of a stretch. Xue Yuan glanced subtly at Jian Qi’s expression, worried he wouldn’t believe him.
But he saw Jian Qi’s face light up with sudden understanding.
“I see! I thought Your Highness had some innate supernatural ability to see through people and things at a glance.”
Xue Yuan’s mouth twitched sharply. This boy is absolutely not someone to keep...
No, what kind of mind works like that? Who in their right mind would jump to such conclusions?
The key is, the kid actually guessed right!
Could it be... he’s also from another world?
Tentatively, he asked, “Why do you have such a strange idea?”
Jian Qi replied, “Many new stories these past years have similar plots.
“Some are born with exceptional talent, cultivating a thousand miles a day; some gain the aid of a lingering soul, returning after years of exile to slay their enemies; others have innate abilities, like seeing ghosts or discerning the essence of things...”
After hearing this, Xue Yuan was no longer calm.
Damn, this is just like the web novels!
Novels in this world have developed to such a degree?
No wonder, when wandering the city, bookshops are everywhere, and many street vendors sell books!
It seems every world has its own civilization tree!
“By the way, if I were to write a book called ‘Battle Through the Heavens,’ would I make a fortune?”
At that moment, Jian Qi said, “When I was young, I too aspired to become a storyteller, to write the best tales... but fate is cruel. After my family’s downfall, I abandoned the pen and took up the sword.”
Xue Yuan thought to himself, thank goodness life’s hardships made you see reason—otherwise the world would be short one future Sword Saint!
He quickly said, “Perhaps that is the best arrangement! Everyone is the protagonist of their own story; doing your best is more important than anything.”
Jian Qi nodded and added, “Your Highness is like a character from a story.”
Xue Yuan smiled bitterly, “Indeed. When I was twelve, my mother was driven to suicide, so I began to feign stupidity. Later, my father died — truly orphaned.
“Afterward, my eldest brother made me a puppet here, knowing I suffered abuse but doing nothing, all the while guarding against me and ready to end my life!
“I suppose many stories begin with such hardship.”
Much of this was true. The original mother was framed by the current emperor’s mother, the Empress Dowager, and died by hanging in injustice.
And from that day on, the original was frightened into madness.
Jian Qi said, “I did not mean hardship, but Your Highness’s endurance and ambition despite ten years of suffering.”
Xue Yuan said, “I may not have grand ambitions; I just want to live. If I can, I want those around me to live better lives.
“Just like the common folk yesterday—if they truly had no worries about food and clothing, they wouldn’t risk stealing from the magistrate’s son’s household.
“This world is chaotic. Since I am the Prince of Ning, I at least want the people of Ning Prefecture to live better lives.”
These words came straight from Xue Yuan’s heart.
Jian Qi said no more.
Except when talking about stories, when he spoke more and showed more expression, at other times he was calm and unreadable—honestly, not very lively.
But the look in his eyes toward Xue Yuan for the first time held recognition.
He was lonely because he rarely acknowledged anyone.
...
The two talked for barely fifteen minutes.
But male friendship is not measured by time spent, words spoken, or number of drinks shared.
In university, Xue Yuan had many roommates; they drank, chatted, played games through the night, or lay talking until dawn.
Yet after graduation, only one or two kept in touch.
True friendship is born more from mutual recognition.
Xue Yuan recognized Jian Qi, so even sitting silently together for hours felt natural.
Jian Qi felt the same, presently silent but still there with Xue Yuan.
In the silence, their bond was forged.
At this point, Xue Yuan no longer needed to hold back.
Breaking the silence, he said, “The day before yesterday afternoon, someone poisoned my soup. I nearly died. Now I want to find out who masterminded this.”
Jian Qi halted as he was reaching into his robe to retrieve a book, and calmly asked, “Do you suspect Wang Sheng, who recently quit his job?”
“Yes. He is a local. Now that I’m alive, he won’t run away. He should still be in the city.”
“Good. I will investigate.”
The way Jian Qi said “I will” stirred something in Xue Yuan’s heart.
You see, a hero like Jian Qi, if he were only repaying a debt, would never call himself a subordinate even before the emperor.
He knew he had no one else to rely on, so he gave himself reassurance.
He was telling himself that Jian Qi was about to throw himself into the fray.
Even though Jian Qi knew he had nothing now, and could be executed by the emperor at any moment, and that the emperor’s assassins might kill him—after all, he was not yet a Sword Saint—
He still chose to throw himself into the fight!
A lover’s assurance, a warrior’s sacrifice!
“Jian Qi, you truly are a hero!”
Jian Qi reached the door, then suddenly turned back.
From his robe, he produced a flat wooden box, about half a finger’s height and the size of a palm, with five holes at the front.
He said, “This is called the Lightning Shadow Needle. It is usually hidden in the sleeve. At a critical moment, tapping the back of the box will fire it. There are fifteen needles inside, enough for three shots. Use only if absolutely necessary.”
“For me?”
“For you!”
Xue Yuan rejoiced. With this hidden weapon, he had some means of self-defense!
As he was about to speak, Jian Qi set down the box, dashed out, and vanished in the blink of an eye.