LOT - 2.1

Having read the letter but left no instructions on what to do with Rong Mu, Eunuch Lang Xi paced in circles, troubled. Knowing his Majesty’s unpredictable and moody temperament, he ultimately didn't dare move Rong Mu.

And so, Rong Mu was left to settle into the Emperor's sleeping quarters in a bizarrely inexplicable fashion.

However, after the emotional rollercoaster of the day, a survival instinct naturally kicked in.

He had originally hoped the Emperor might be kind and easy to get along with, but he turned out to be a caregiver who was clearly not right in the head. 

From any angle, this man didn't look like the type to nurture flowers. Rong Mu was easygoing and zen, but that didn't mean he wanted to walk straight into his own death.

Since he hadn't died despite transmigrating through time and space, it meant he still had a chance to save himself.

But in his current state, never mind saving himself. He couldn't even move two steps without someone carrying him.

"This won't do..." Rong Mu muttered under his breath. "If things go wrong, I'll be treated like a demon and burned to ashes."

He fell silent for a moment. The black-hearted Emperor had gone somewhere, and there wasn't a sound from outside.

Taking this chance, maybe he could try to see if he could come out of this lotus!

The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. In Rong Mu’s eyes, he felt as if he were trapped in a tiny, enclosed world, as long as he found the door, he had a chance to get out.

The surroundings were filled with an unknown purple mist. It didn't seem toxic, instead, it radiated an aura of auspiciousness. This sight shattered Rong Mu’s worldview, but then again, he had already turned into a plant. Could there be anything more unscientific than his own existence?

His mind stabilized. He tentatively took two steps forward, focused entirely on finding a path. He failed to notice that his originally short hair was slowly growing longer, cascading down to his slender waist. 

It began as a striking silver-white before returning to a natural black. His clothes transformed into a dark green robe, and a purple-and-white hair ribbon moved as if of its own accord. 

Two delicate silver bells at the ends of the ribbon wove through his long hair, quickly forming an intricate and exquisite knot.

It was a pity the only person present couldn't appreciate the sight. A spirit born of a flower, even in human form, was a masterpiece favored by the Creator.

Outside, the sound of rain grew faint. Fearing the Emperor might return at any moment, Rong Mu searched every inch of his tiny world and finally found an exit hidden by thin mist in a corner.

There it is!

Overjoyed, Rong Mu charged straight through.

A night breeze swept through the sleeping quarters, and a window slammed shut with a *bang*. The little eunuch outside jumped in fright, stole a careful glance at the room, then reached out to pull the window frame tight before standing respectfully with lowered eyes.

Under the desk, by the long couch, a flash of silver-white slowly faded within the long black hair, leaving only a nearly imperceptible trace of iris-purple at the tips. Hidden in the dark tresses, it was not easily noticed by outsiders.

Rong Mu let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the couch with weak limbs. He gripped the edge with his hands, peeking out with only his eyes visible.

Those eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, were wide with caution, shining with a clear light in the dark like a startled kitten.

Rong Mu had no idea what he looked like right now, he only felt a heavy weight pulling at the back of his head. He couldn't worry about that now, seeing no one around, he turned to flee. 

But before he could even stand up, he remembered that this was the heart of the Imperial Palace, the most secure and heavily guarded place in the ancient world. 

With his meager skills in climbing doors and walls, he’d be turned into a pincushion before he made it two meters.

"Heaven wants me dead..." As soon as the words left his mouth, Rong Mu clapped a hand over his own lips.

His voice!

Was that a sound a normal boy could make?! Rong Mu had never been able to imagine how a male spirit would sound, but now he understood perfectly.

He coughed a few times and forced himself to pinch his throat, barely accepting this "over-evolved" beauty of a voice.

Running was out of the question, so he had to see if a spirit could hide their form... Rong Mu carefully propped himself up and took two steps. 

Remembering something, he looked back to see the large lotus vat sitting innocently in place, as if silently condemning him for running away without his original body.

If the flower stayed, he stayed;. If the flower died, he died. Rong Mu instinctively felt that running away alone wouldn't end well.

To get out, he had to take this housing unit with him.

Rong Mu remained silent for a moment before walking over clumsily. He crouched down, wrapped both arms around the large lotus vat, and frowned. After a few breaths, the vat became somewhat translucent, but it didn't budge an inch.

Rong Mu refused to believe that after growing up so big, he couldn't even lift a water tank. Gritting his teeth, he gathered his strength and gave a violent heave, finally managing to lift the vat he could barely wrap his arms around.

He was ecstatic, but before he could turn around, the vat seemed determined to stay in the palace. It dropped back down with a heavy thud.

Rong Mu: "!!!"

He scrambled to move his feet out of the way but lost his balance, falling onto the floor with a *thud*. His raven-black hair spilled from his back over his chest, a few strands tickling his cheeks.

Is this... my... hair?

While Rong Mu sat there dazed, suffering from both physical and mental blows, the palace doors were opened.

The late spring wind poured in from every corner of the palace. A tall figure stood at the entrance, a servant behind him holding an imperial lantern.

The light was behind him, making it impossible for the recovering Rong Mu to see the man's expression. He could only feel the cold moisture radiating from him and see the long hair draped over the man's back after his bath.

I'm dead.

Rong Mu’s vision went dark.

Shang Cizhou took two steps forward. He saw the black silhouette of a person tilt their head almost imperceptibly. After a few breaths, the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile.

The people behind him didn't understand why the Emperor had stopped, but no one dared to look up and ask.

Rong Mu watched helplessly as the man made a gesture behind his back. The servants bowed and dispersed, and the doors slammed shut, blocking out the cold wind.

The hole of dread in Rong Mu’s heart grew wider.

He opened his mouth but found himself unable to speak. He could feel that, for a split second, he was infinitely close to death.

In the next moment, the Emperor stepped forward slowly and drew the long sword hanging on the wall. The blade slid out as he advanced, producing the chilling sound of cold steel in the night.

Rong Mu coughed violently twice. Just as he was about to speak by the light of the palace lamps, a sliver of icy cold pressed against his throat. Looking down, he saw the long sword had already reached his chin.

The person half-collapsed on the floor looked young, not yet of age to wear a crown. His brows were like distant peaks and his eyes like night stars. His lips should have been red... but were currently pale.

Likely frightened by him.

'How interesting,' Shang Cizhou thought.

Who was this one? To have the ability to sneak into his sleeping quarters. Clearly an intruder, yet his face held an almost imperceptible look of grievance and alarm. Any man who looked at him would probably feel a spark of pity.

But a beauty is hard to endure when they have the heart of an assassin.

Shang Cizhou let out a soft laugh. "An assassin?"

Rong Mu didn't dare admit to being an assassin! This was the palace, and the man before him was the Emperor. For someone who appeared out of thin air, being labeled an assassin meant instant death!

"No, no... not an assassin.." As soon as he spoke, Shang Cizhou’s hand holding the sword paused.

Unaware, Rong Mu carefully moved his neck back two centimeters, swallowed hard, and explained again: "I-I am not an assassin."

No respect for status, rambling, and couldn't even speak clearly, his survival skills seemed entirely invested in his looks. Did they think the Emperor was too hard to assassinate, so they sent such a half-baked amateur to test the waters?

Seeing the Emperor remain silent, Rong Mu backed away further, leaning against his lotus vat. He tapped the vat twice, thinking he was being subtle, and cursed inwardly that if he died today, not a single pound of this hundred-pound tank was innocent!

Rong Mu didn't expect the Emperor to ask more. He tried to use the vat to stand up, but his legs suddenly felt like they’d been soaked in water, soft and useless. ​