Little Pink Starfish

A Spark Can Ignite a Prairie Fire

Xianzong couldn’t come up with a fully convincing explanation, but still insisted with determination, “Eternal Life Temple is a scourge. I’ve wanted to get rid of it for a long time!”

Hearing this, the elder—who was a loyal servant prepared to die at his emperor’s command—had nothing more to say. He solemnly responded, “Your Majesty, this subject swears to live and die with Wangxiang Pass.”

With national ruin looming, Xianzong, who rarely used his brain, finally gave it a spin. He said to the elder, “That’s the worst-case scenario I’m talking about.”

The elder asked, “Is there a plan that isn’t worst-case?”

Xianzong replied, “Think about it. Even I couldn’t tolerate Mo Wen anymore. What about the emperors of Zhuri and the other four kingdoms? You think they’re all willing to endure Mo Wen’s arrogance? That man treats himself like the ruler of the world—who’s the real emperor here? I don’t believe I’m the only one who wants to take him down.” As he spoke, he stood and paced before the elder, hands behind his back. “A single spark can ignite a prairie fire. I’ve lit the flame—now let’s see who dares set it ablaze with me.”

The elder looked at him in astonishment. He never imagined such words could come from Xianzong’s mouth.

Xianzong turned to him. “Even if it means war, so be it. You’ll defend Wangxiang Pass with your life—I will do the same for this kingdom of Fengtian.”

The elder knelt, kowtowed, and said, “Your servant obeys.”

Xianzong asked, “Are you afraid?”

The elder replied boldly, “Death is but a small matter.”

“Good!” Xianzong reached out and pulled him up. “Then I leave Wangxiang Pass in your care.”

Now that the mask was off, Xianzong didn’t bother pretending. He couldn’t fix what had already been done, and he knew it. There were only two paths now: if Mo Wen could swallow this humiliation, Xianzong could pretend it never happened. If he couldn’t—then they had no choice but to prepare for war.

The elder had no hesitation. His ancestors and kin had all died on the battlefield. If he died there too, it would simply be fate fulfilled. For a general, to die in battle wrapped in horsehide was a glory in itself.

And while Xianzong and the elder were having their heated discussion, Gu Xinglang opened his eyes.

Wangyue turned to Gu Xingnuo, who had stood guard by his side the whole time. “He’s awake.”

Gu Xingnuo stepped forward and shielded the young monk behind him. He looked at his brother. “Xinglang?”

Gu Xinglang murmured, “Brother…”

Hearing that, the imperial physicians breathed sighs of relief. The prince consort was awake and lucid—that meant he was out of danger.

One physician checked his pulse and told Gu Xingnuo, “Young Master, the prince consort is stable now. He just needs to rest.”

Gu Xingnuo thanked the doctors and instructed the steward to take them to rest.

“I want to see my master,” Wangyue tugged on Gu Xingnuo’s sleeve and whispered.

“Someone!” Gu Xingnuo called out.

A trusted servant quickly entered the room.

“Take the young master to the princess,” Gu Xingnuo instructed.

The servant immediately accepted the order.

“In the other courtyard, you must behave,” Gu Xingnuo crouched to speak to the monk. “The princess is treating your master—don’t disturb her.”

Wangyue nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

Only after watching the little monk leave did Gu Xingnuo turn back to Gu Xinglang.

At this moment, Gu Xinglang felt like his whole body had been trampled by a herd of horses—his bones ached, his strength was gone, and his head throbbed.

“Are you in pain?” Gu Xingnuo sat by his bedside and gently wiped the sweat from his brother’s face.

Gu Xinglang gritted his teeth. “Brother, what happened to me?”

Gu Xingnuo paused mid-wipe. His expression darkened. “You don’t remember anything?”

When Gu Xinglang tried to think, his headache worsened like an explosion in his skull.

Seeing the pain on his brother’s face, Gu Xingnuo couldn’t bear it. “If you can’t remember, don’t force it.”

Gu Xinglang lay quietly, eyes closed, for a while. Then he reached out and grabbed Gu Xingnuo’s hand. “Where’s Mo Wen?”

“He escaped,” Gu Xingnuo answered.

Startled, Gu Xinglang tried to sit up—but his body immediately collapsed back onto the bed.

Gu Xingnuo touched his forehead. “Are you alright? Where does it hurt?”

“How could he escape?” Gu Xinglang demanded.

“The State Preceptor was badly injured,” Gu Xingnuo patted his shoulder to soothe him. “Everyone else died.”

Gu Xinglang struggled to recall, but the last thing he remembered was Chengguan sealing his senses with golden needles. After that—nothing.

“You didn’t see anything?” Gu Xingnuo asked.

“I…” Gu Xinglang hesitated. “Did I faint?”

Gu Xingnuo wiped more sweat from his brother’s forehead. He could tell his brother wasn’t lying.

“Brother,” Gu Xinglang insisted, trying to rise again. “How is the State Preceptor? And the princess?”

“The princess is treating him,” Gu Xingnuo replied, using barely any force to press him back down.

“She went to Huguo Temple?” Gu Xinglang asked.

Gu Xingnuo nodded. “His Majesty went too.”

Gu Xinglang furrowed his brow. He felt like there was something he was missing.

“Xinglang,” Gu Xingnuo leaned in, “tell me where you feel uncomfortable.”

“I feel weak,” Gu Xinglang replied. “Why didn’t Mo Wen kill me?”

“You were unconscious,” Gu Xingnuo said. “Maybe Mo Wen was exhausted in the end and too focused on fleeing to finish you off.”

“Really?” Gu Xinglang was half-convinced.

“What else could it be?” Gu Xingnuo smiled faintly. “Do you really think he’d spare you out of mercy?”

“Why did I faint at all?”

“You were injured, and Chengguan’s needle sealed your senses,” Gu Xingnuo explained. “It’s normal you passed out.”

Gu Xinglang murmured an “Oh.” He’d never doubted his brother before, and he didn’t now.

A metallic taste of blood rose in Gu Xingnuo’s mouth. He turned away, coughed quietly, and looked at his hand—crimson blood pooled in his palm.

“Brother?” Gu Xinglang called.

Gu Xingnuo clenched his fist and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When he turned back, his expression was calm. “What is it?”

“Is the State Preceptor seriously hurt?” Gu Xinglang asked.

“I don’t know,” Gu Xingnuo said softly. “The princess said he’ll be fine. Right now, we can only believe her.”

Gu Xinglang hesitated, his face flushing slightly. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then rest,” Gu Xingnuo tucked in the blanket around him.

As his younger brother drifted to sleep, Gu Xingnuo looked up and forced back the tears that were threatening to fall.