“Aha.” Wu Du stared into Duan Ling’s eyes for a moment and then abruptly said, “Well, don’t get too into the act. Don’t tell me you’re actually…”
As their breath mingled, Duan Ling noticed himself having a strange reaction and was seized with awkwardness, but he didn’t dare pull away. Their gazes were locked, each taking in the other’s face. Duan Ling’s heartbeat quickened. He glanced away for a split second, but almost immediately returned to gazing into the depths of Wu Du’s eyes. He’d suddenly realized this guy’s nose was beautiful—he hadn’t noticed it before, but now, he saw Wu Du had the kind of looks that grew on you with every glance.
“Say something…?” Duan Ling whispered when the silence became too much to bear.
“If you were a girl, I’d have no choice but to marry you after you threw yourself at me like this,” Wu Du said.
“Is there a girl you like?” Duan Ling asked, desperately changing the subject. But the instant he spoke, he realized the question sounded more like he was preparing to confess his feelings, which made the atmosphere even more awkward.
“In the past, yes,” Wu Du said. “Not anymore. I’ll tell you about it another time.”
Only after they heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs did they separate. Duan Ling was afraid the other pair would see him if they turned around, so he hurried back into the room.
“Are they gone?” he asked from inside the doorway.
Wu Du didn’t answer, distracted.
“Wu Du?” he prompted.
Only then did Wu Du jolt back to his senses. “Yeah,” he said. “But let’s wait a bit longer.”
Duan Ling waited until Wu Du finally called, “All right, we can go now.”
He stepped out again, and they descended the stairs together. Observing Duan Ling’s obvious anxiety, Wu Du commented, “You’re honestly pretty calculating.”
“Life as a calculating person is tiring,” Duan Ling sighed.
“You can sell me out when we get back,” Wu Du said. “Maybe the prime minister will reward you with a mansion.”
“What did you say earlier after ‘crown prince’?” Duan Ling asked, keeping his voice level. “I was too shocked to get the rest. Can you say it again? I’ll remember it properly this time so I can sell you out tomorrow.”
Wu Du laughed, and they left Qunfang Pavilion.
Inside their carriage, Cai Yan lifted the dividing curtain and said to Lang Junxia in the driver’s seat, “The person who left just before us—was he from the Mu manor?”
“I didn’t get a clear look,” Lang Junxia said. “The carriage was already leaving when we came out, but it was similar to Mu manor’s from what I could see.”
“Did Wu Du bring him?” Cai Yan frowned.
Lang Junxia reined the horses to a halt and paused before answering. “Not necessarily. Wu Du may have been followed…but someone tailing him in secret wouldn’t use the Mu manor’s own carriage.”
On the street, the crowd had thinned, and the market was quieting down as the few remaining stalls closed for the night. Wu Du and Duan Ling walked side by side.
“So what if the crown prince wants to recruit me?” Wu Du was saying. “It’s no surprise he’s got his eye on your Master Wu’s skills.”
“All skills, whether in scholarship or martial arts, must be paid to the emperor,” Duan Ling said. “That won’t change. But then, what are you going to do about Prime Minister Mu?”
Wu Du thought for a moment and shook his head. After hearing Wu Du’s explanation for the second time, Duan Ling more or less understood that the false crown prince wanted a new right-hand man. If Lang Junxia was the one who’d brought the false crown prince into the city, the prince would sooner or later need to eliminate the only person who knew he was a fraud. With Lang Junxia dead, he could rest easy.
But Lang Junxia wasn’t an easy man to kill; the crown prince would need an assassin of his own. And who better to fill this role than Wu Du?
“I won’t act against the interests of the prime minister for now, but we’ll have to see if my luck holds in the future,” Wu Du said.
Their stroll took them down the street and into a small alley leading back to the prime minister’s residence.
“If it were me,” Duan Ling said, “I might agree to serve him, but I would keep my options open. How should I put it…? How does that saying go—you have to find yourself first—”
Duan Ling stopped mid-sentence.
Wu Du knit his brows and followed Duan Ling’s line of sight to the man standing at the other end of the alley.
Lang Junxia.