Little Pink Starfish

Wind Chimes in the Wind

Xianzong, knowing he couldn’t physically punish Gu Xinglang, decided he’d at least verbally eviscerate him. So, the emperor launched into a furious tirade. His words were so sharp and thunderous that even the eunuchs and palace attendants nearby trembled, fearing His Majesty might at any moment shout, “Off with his head!”

Gu Xinglang accepted the scolding with great patience. He was preoccupied with worry about his wife and barely registered what his father-in-law was yelling about. Besides, he knew full well—His Majesty might rage, but he wouldn’t actually lay a hand on him.

“You tell me,” Xianzong barked. “What did you do wrong?!”

“Your Majesty, this subject is guilty,” Gu Xinglang responded.

“How could you take care of my Little Seventh like this?!”

“Your Majesty, this subject is guilty.”

“What punishment do you think you deserve?!”

“Your Majesty, this subject deserves death.”

Standing nearby, Xiao Wei rolled his eyes. What’s the point of this script again?

Meanwhile, the physicians were gently applying ointment to Yu Ziyi’s bright red little bottom. The refreshing scent of mint wafted into Gu Xinglang’s nose—clearly, the balm was meant to soothe the inflamed area.

After exhausting himself with scolding, Xianzong collapsed onto the lounge again and said, “The Seventh Prince will stay with me. Come fetch him in a few days. You come—Linglong doesn’t need to.”

Gu Xinglang instantly snapped to attention. “Your Majesty, I fear Her Highness would miss His Highness dearly if she doesn’t see him.”

Xianzong snorted. “After what she’s done to her own brother, you still want to claim she dotes on him?”

“Your Majesty—” Gu Xinglang began to speak up in defense, but suddenly, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head—as if someone had jabbed a needle into his skull. It was sudden, intense, nearly enough to make him cry out.

Seated in a shadowed spot, Gu Xinglang’s pain went unnoticed by the emperor. Xianzong sneered, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Gu Xinglang clutched his forehead. In his ears, a faint ding-ding began to ring. It sounded like a wind chime hanging from an eave, swaying gently in the breeze. The delicate chime wasn’t just giving him a headache—it made him inexplicably irritable.

Xiao Wei noticed something was off. “Prince Consort, what’s wrong?”

Gu Xinglang forced a response: “Do you hear… wind chimes?”

Everyone in the hall exchanged puzzled glances. Aside from the emperor’s scolding, it was silent. There were no wind chimes.

Even Xianzong paused to listen—nothing. “You’re dodging my lecture by spouting nonsense now?”

Xiao Wei rushed to intercede, “Your Majesty, Prince Consort hasn’t been well. Perhaps he’s just… fatigued.”

Xianzong gave Xiao Wei a death glare. This little shadow guard served my daughter for a few years and now dares think me an idiot? How did being tired lead to hearing wind chimes?

But before he could explode again—

“Ahhh—”

“Fire!”

“There’s a fire!”

“It’s spreading—!”

Screams erupted from outside the Book Pavilion.

Xianzong froze. What the hell? Fire?! The Lan Book Pavilion is on fire?!

Xiao Wei had been waiting for this. He immediately shouted, “Your Majesty, fire’s broken out!” and slung Gu Xinglang over his back, bolting from the hall. The emperor had his own guards—Xiao Wei wasn’t worried about him burning to death.

Despite his splitting headache, Gu Xinglang still remembered his little brother-in-law. “Ziyi…” he said weakly.

Xiao Wei glanced back and saw the emperor still cradling the baby. “Don’t worry, Your Highness is with His Majesty.”

And just like that, Xiao Wei dashed off with Gu Xinglang.

Xianzong, escorted by his two elite bodyguards, rushed out of the hall—and stared wide-eyed as thick black smoke poured from the second floor.

“My precious books!” he howled in anguish.

“Get His Majesty out of here!” Jingzhong shouted, assuming command as the fire commander.

The two guards immediately lifted Xianzong to jump down from the second floor.

“I don’t want to jump!” Xianzong wailed.

“Too late!”

Meanwhile, guards scrambled in all directions. “Evacuate everyone!” Jingzhong shouted, taking over full control of the fire response.

Xiao Wei gently placed Gu Xinglang on a flower bed in the courtyard. “Where exactly do you feel unwell?”

Still hearing that damned chime, Gu Xinglang pressed his forehead. “Go rescue the others. The princess doesn’t like hurting people.”

“You?” Xiao Wei asked.

“I’m fine,” Gu Xinglang said, forcing a reassuring shake of his head.

Xiao Wei glanced at the now-blazing Book Pavilion, then leapt up to the third floor.

“How did this happen?!” Xianzong roared from the courtyard.

“Your Majesty, this is a dangerous place—please, leave at once!” Jingzhong urged.

“I’ll have your head!” Xianzong jabbed a finger in his face.

“Your Majesty!” Before Jingzhong could kneel to beg forgiveness, a shout rang out—“There’s fire on the west side too!”

Xianzong turned and saw smoke rising from the palace’s western sector. He nearly fainted. Was this an invasion? Had someone breached the city to burn down his imperial palace?!

“Protect His Majesty!” Jingzhong shouted, shielding the emperor.

Surrounded by bodyguards and guardsmen, Xianzong was quickly escorted out of the Book Pavilion’s courtyard.

Alarm bells began to toll. Emergency sirens rang across the palace as soldiers and imperial guards mobilized.

Elsewhere, the bandit leader carried Li Wan as he and Xiao Zhuang mingled with the panicked crowd escaping the Buddha Hall, choosing the most deserted paths to sprint toward the palace gate.

Back on safer ground, Jingzhong cast a glance around—Gu Xinglang and Xiao Wei hadn’t followed. He subtly gestured to the two nannies who had earlier tried to take Yu Ziyi.

They exchanged a look and slipped quietly back toward the Book Pavilion.

“Put out the fire!” Xianzong roared. “Find out what the hell is happening!”

“Your Majesty,” a guard ran up and knelt. “The fire started at the Buddha Hall.”

Xianzong paced furiously. “Were there any injuries?”

The guard shook his head. “Your Majesty, only saw lots of people fleeing.”

Holding his son, Xianzong looked up at the night sky, exhausted. This life is unlivable…

High atop the tallest watchtower of the imperial palace, a figure in black robes stood on the glazed tiles at the pinnacle.

A small bronze bell hung from the little finger of his left hand, swaying in the cold autumn wind. Its faint chimes ding-ding-ding echoed like whispers through the night.

Watching the flames and smoke engulf the Book Pavilion, the black-robed man chuckled and whispered, “Yu Linglong.”

Just then, the two palace nannies reached Gu Xinglang.

He slowly looked up, and in his blood-red eyes—there was nothing left but killing intent.