Little Pink Starfish

The Emperor’s Full-HP Resurrection

“You’re okay now, right?” Yu Xiaoxiao asked Gu Xinglang after helping him drink half a cup of water. “Anywhere uncomfortable?”

Gu Xinglang whispered, “We can’t talk about the fire.”

Yu Xiaoxiao turned to look at her father, curled up in his chair like a withered cabbage—vacant-eyed, dazed, devoid of any emperorly dominance. “He looks really shocked, Xiao Gu. What happened to my dad?”

Gu Xinglang sighed as he glanced at Emperor Xianzong. “You really saw Wuhuan?”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded. “Yeah. He was wearing a silver mask. I, uh, accidentally broke it.”

Was someone secretly hitting me in the head again? Gu Xinglang groaned inwardly. His head was starting to ache. “You fought him?”

“Yep. We had a bit of a scuffle. But then we became buddies—we both hate that scumbag Wen Fenglin!”

Wuhuan and Wen Fenglin were known as close as real brothers. That they were enemies now? Gu Xinglang just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“I think he’s just a poor, unloved soul,” Yu Xiaoxiao said, recalling Wuhuan’s scarred face with a click of her tongue. “Even Chenqi and Chenmie wanted to beat him up. Good thing I was there. Otherwise, he’d be toast.”

“Chenqi and Chenmie?” Gu Xinglang was shocked. “They tried to fight the Grand Preceptor?”

“Yup.” Yu Xiaoxiao mimicked Wuhuan’s tone and replayed the conversation between Wuhuan and the two monks for both Gu Xinglang and Emperor Xianzong. “So, tell me—Wuhuan isn’t just an unloved disciple?”

Even though Gu Xinglang was dead tired, he couldn’t sleep after hearing all that. He glanced at Xianzong.

Suddenly, Xianzong shot up from his chair. His daughter was nuts, yes—but she never lied. That meant Wuhuan was definitely not besties with Wen Fenglin, or even in his master’s favor. This… changed everything!

“I’ve never heard they didn’t get along…” Gu Xinglang muttered.

Xianzong barked, “Since when did Yongsheng Temple air their dirty laundry? You think they’d announce their family squabbles to the world? Use your brain!”

Chastised, Gu Xinglang went silent.

“I’m going to find the Grand Preceptor,” Xianzong told Yu Xiaoxiao. “You stay here with this brat. Tomorrow morning, the two of you leave the palace—no need to say goodbye.”

Like a man reborn, Xianzong strode out of the room.

Yu Xiaoxiao stared after him. “Why do I get the feeling my dad doesn’t want to see me?”

Gu Xinglang turned his head away. He didn’t have the heart to lie and say, “Of course your father loves seeing you every day.”

Outside, Xianzong stood under the starry sky and took a deep breath. If Wuhuan and Wen Fenglin really are enemies, then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Let them fight. He’d just be the emperor providing the stage. Whether one died or both, it had nothing to do with him!
Rejuvenated, Emperor Xianzong marched off to find Grand Preceptor Chengguan. Let him handle Yongsheng Temple’s mess!

Back inside, Yu Xiaoxiao snuggled down next to Gu Xinglang. “Everything’s fine now. Let’s sleep.”

Gu Xinglang felt like they’d forgotten something important…

Just then, Yu Xiaoxiao sneezed. “It’s cold tonight.”

His wife said she was cold—Gu Xinglang forgot all else. He lifted the blanket and whispered, “Come in.”

With a whoosh, Yu Xiaoxiao dove into the quilt.

Gu Xinglang awkwardly draped an arm around her and asked, “Still cold?”

The blanket had been warmed by his body for a while, and Yu Xiaoxiao nestled into his chest, eyes half-closed. “Next time your head hurts, tell me. I’ll take a look.”

Gu Xinglang rubbed his chin against her soft hair. “Mm.”

“Maybe you didn’t dry your hair after washing it the other day,” Yu Xiaoxiao mumbled. “Next time, dry it before bed.”

Holding his wife, with a little bundle (Xiao Yi) beside him, Gu Xinglang’s heart warmed. If only this little one were his and not someone else’s… He smiled silently. One day, he and his wife would have kids of their own—just like his older brothers.
With that happy thought, he drifted off to sleep again.

Yu Xiaoxiao yawned. After running around all night, she closed her eyes to rest too.

---

Meanwhile, under a sycamore tree outside the study hall, a young bodyguard yanked Xiao Wei aside. “Are you nuts? You think you can just kill someone like Jingzhong?”

Xiao Wei bit his lip stubbornly.

The young guard dragged him further into the shadows. “I heard His Majesty call you Xiao Wei. You and Eleven have names now?”

Xiao Wei nodded. “Eleven’s now called Xiao Zhuang.”

“Xiao Wei and Xiao Zhuang?” The man blinked.

“Mm,” Xiao Wei’s face softened. “The princess said we didn’t need to be slaves anymore. The prince consort got us registered under the Gu family’s household.”

The young guard, Xiao Wu, stared. “So now you and Eleven have the Gu surname?”

Xiao Wei nodded. “The princess wanted us to take her surname, but we didn’t dare.”

Xiao Wu punched his shoulder playfully. As royal guards, they were nameless tools, only known by their numbers. But now, Xiao Zhuang and Xiao Wei had a surname and registration. They could own land, marry, have children. And with the Gu name, they’d have protection. “You’re lucky,” Xiao Wu said, grinning.

Xiao Wei nodded again. “That’s why I couldn’t just watch Jingzhong try to harm the seventh prince and do nothing.”

“You idiot!” Xiao Wu hissed, gripping his arm tightly. “After Consort Zhao lost favor, Jingzhong found a new backer.”

“Who?” Xiao Wei frowned.

“No idea,” Xiao Wu said. “I’m always around His Majesty, not Jingzhong. But it’s gotta be one of the concubines with royal sons. Who else would target the seventh prince?”

Xiao Wei clenched his fists.

“Even if you kill Jingzhong,” Xiao Wu said earnestly, “the real puppet master is still in the dark. Killing him does nothing. Listen to me—wait and hear what the princess and prince consort think. And ask about that blood and brain matter on the prince consort’s hands. Have you even talked to him about it?”