Chapter 13

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The Fourth Prince, who had just been complaining about the Fifth Prince’s methods of treating wounds, suddenly became fully aware of his predicament upon hearing Xue Jin’an’s voice.

A wave of terror engulfed him once more, as if he had been injected with an anesthetic that numbed the pain but emptied his mind. His body stiffened inch by inch.

No, he had to leave this place, he had to escape! The Fourth Prince swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. The faint voices he had been hearing ceased.

He had no idea what the two had just said. The moment Xue Jin’an’s voice pierced his ears, it was as if his ears had been struck hard—waves of ringing and the voices flickered between distant and near. Immersed entirely in negative emotions, the Fourth Prince had no energy to pay attention.

What mattered most now was how to save his life from Xue Jin’an’s hands, so he could escape and bring reinforcements.

He began to observe quietly.

Xue Jin’an sat there expressionless and silent, his breathing so light it seemed nonexistent. His dark, empty eyes had no focus, and he resembled an exquisitely carved stone statue, unblinking and chilling to behold.

Suddenly, those impenetrable black eyes turned toward him, clearly reflecting his shadow within.

In that instant, the Fourth Prince’s hair stood on end, and he nearly lost control, wanting to flee in terror. But he swallowed his screams and horror back down his throat.

Unaware of the uncanny valley effect, he thought he was simply frightened by Xue Jin’an’s earlier behavior. Restless, he shifted his body and then felt ashamed of his reaction. He stiffened his neck and tried to put on a bravado to seem less cowardly.

“D-Don’t look at me like that,” he stammered, voice all bluster and no courage.

Xue Jin’an could not read his expression but heard his heart pounding loudly. Puzzled, he asked, “What’s wrong with your heart again?”

He hadn’t tampered with his battery, so why was his heart beating as if he were dying? Could there be some hidden defect in the battery?

Heart disease is a heart condition; the Fifth Prince, who had it, had a steady heartbeat, while the Fourth Prince, who did not, had arrhythmia. Was there some hidden effect related to human batteries? Or did the human body come with transformers or something else?

—Hmm, not impossible, since human batteries can self-heal.

Xue Jin’an’s eyes brightened with unprecedented interest in humans. He opened the health monitoring software, treating the two as experimental subjects and began manually recording data, hoping to find a way to successfully replace the battery.

In a cheerful mood, he asked the Fourth Prince, “Need me to open you up and fix it? My hands are steady.”

“Open up my heart?! No no no no no—” The Fourth Prince’s face instantly turned terrified. Like an electric shock, he sprang up and dashed behind the Fifth Prince, clutching his clothes, too scared to even show his head. He kept pleading, “Seventh brother, I really know I was wrong, I won’t tell anyone about this, please spare me!”

The Fifth Prince was wiping his fingers, looking at the traces of medicine powder and blood on his middle fingertip. The marks were difficult to erase completely after exposure to air. His irritation was broken by the Fourth Prince’s sudden outburst.

“You’re not worth killing,” the Fifth Prince said impatiently, kicking him aside and disdainfully patting his now-dirty robe.

Xue Jin’an found it a bit strange, but since having his knife taken, he had been sitting quietly, daydreaming without any intention to act. Only the Fourth Prince was jumping at shadows, which was somewhat annoying.

He was so cowardly he couldn’t even speak properly. What exactly did the Fourth Prince do to provoke him?

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Not worth killing but still terrifying! The Fourth Prince thought miserably to himself: no, the Fifth brother can’t be relied on; I must save myself.

“Sue Xuan Yue, you can do it. Once you get out of here, Xue Jin’an won’t be able to run amok!” He cheered himself on in his heart, finally gathering enough courage to start negotiating with Xue Jin’an.

He babbled a long list of self-deprecating promises, thinking he had humbled himself enough: “…Rest assured, I won’t tell anyone. If I’m injured, I’ll say I was careless. I won’t report you to the Emperor or Empress! Absolutely not!”

Xue Jin’an remained indifferent, staring at him with those black eyes.

It was a look of scrutiny, of disbelief. Thinking he had read the situation correctly, the Fourth Prince immediately raised three fingers, “If you don’t believe me, I can swear!”

Xue Jin’an continued to remain silent.

The Fourth Prince could no longer hold it in and broke down, “No, Seventh brother, what do you mean? Say something!”

Xue Jin’an slowly opened his mouth, “I’m not stopping you.”

The Fourth Prince was stunned.

Xue Jin’an noticed a brief missed beat in his racing heart again and marveled once more at how incredible human batteries were—so unstable yet never exploding.

“If you want to leave, then leave. Need me to escort you?” Today’s lesson in etiquette from Master Cen had clearly sunk in. Xue Jin’an had read the textbook on this subject in the learning software and now used it naturally.

“I don’t need you to escort me. Just sit there, just sit there,” the Fourth Prince nervously edged away, cautiously asking, “So I’m really going? Leaving for real?”

He carefully retreated to a safe distance, then without looking back, bolted like the wind, not even slowing down upon hitting the palace gates.

The Fifth Prince twitched his mouth in silent disbelief and asked Xue Jin’an with a half-smirk, “You’re just going to let him go? You believe his words?”

Even his five-year-old foolish younger brother knew that promises and oaths were nonsense; only leverage and interests made people obey. Xue Jin’an actually believed the Fourth Prince’s coerced oath? Was there really such a naive soul in the palace? How had he survived?

Unexpectedly, Xue Jin’an shook his head in denial.

“He just wants to get out,” Xue Jin’an said. “I hear the guards coming to look for us; they’ll arrive here soon.”

The Fifth Prince pricked up his ears but heard no guards, only the Fourth Prince yelling impatiently.

“Help! Save me! There’s an assassin!” the Fourth Prince screamed hoarsely.

The Fifth Prince was speechless.

His feelings about the Fourth Prince’s antics were complicated. Should he call him clever or stupid? Clever because he wasn’t stabbing anyone in the back, stupid for knowing the guards wouldn’t dare harm a prince and shouting “assassin” instead of revealing Xue Jin’an’s identity.

What could happen if this blew up? The Seventh Prince had little left to lose. The Fourth Prince’s chest wound was minor and properly treated, and the worst punishment for the Seventh Prince would be house arrest—painless and harmless. If the matter escalated and a thorough investigation followed, the Fourth Prince’s bullying of the Seventh Prince would come to light, and that would be serious trouble.

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Although the Emperor was no kind father, busy with state affairs and not close to them, he wouldn’t turn a blind eye if brothers fought to the point of drawing blood and pretend nothing had happened.

Moreover, the Seventh Prince was different.

Xue Jin’an, Xue Baoning... he had once been the Emperor’s most beloved child—neither legitimate nor eldest nor youngest, yet bearing a name full of beautiful meaning. The recent palace reforms were because of him; the Emperor had begun paying attention to him again.

The Fourth Prince, you’re on your own.

The Fifth Prince finally heard the guards approaching from afar—likely attracted by the Fourth Prince’s shouts—and, uninterested in the spectacle, stood up. “Let’s go.”

With that, he pushed off from the rockery, channeling internal energy into his legs. In three leaps, he gracefully hung on the wall and swung over with strong, deft arms.

Xue Jin’an watched him leave, his thoughts shifting from “So human lightness skills really allow flying, I want to learn” to “Isn’t that flying a bit too low? Understandable for a human cub” to “Ah, it’s just a ground-bound chicken flapping its wings.”

Holding the “Code Cultivation Method,” Xue Jin’an was on the path of cultivation, which was the upper echelon of martial arts. Some top martial arts techniques were even incomplete cultivation methods. In other words, once his power recovered, he could use this method to cultivate internal energy.

External skills were another matter. Martial external skills refined physical fitness, honed through harsh training in the coldest and hottest days, forging sinews and bones. At best, he could write himself an experience multiplier card, but he still had to practice.

After all, even a cheat has to start after the game begins.

The footsteps outside grew louder as the guards burst in, led by the deputy commander of the Imperial Guards. After all, a missing prince was no small matter; without rank, they couldn’t control the situation.

After the deputy commander sternly shouted, “Bold assassin, surrender!” he realized the so-called assassin was the Seventh Prince and was stunned, breaking into a cold sweat.

The Imperial Guards were elite troops stationed at the imperial city, directly guarding the Emperor. The deputy commander’s position was hard-won after ten years, and anyone close enough to the Emperor for a decade would surely know the imperial family and palace secrets.

This was clearly a feud among princes, not something they could intervene in. The deputy commander wiped his brow and said, “The assassin has fled, protect His Highness the Prince!”

Hiding behind, the Fourth Prince was displeased. Though still nervous around Xue Jin’an, now with guards to protect him, he felt more confident.

He stepped forward, wanting to command the Imperial Guards to seize the Prince—not to harm Xue Jin’an, but as a childish act of revenge, to make someone else suffer a lesson.

Before he could even open his mouth, Xue Jin’an interrupted.

“Fourth brother, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fought back. If you want to kill me, I won’t dodge.” Xue Jin’an handed over the bloodied kitchen knife with both hands. His clothes were already a bit short, revealing thin arms crisscrossed with bruises and scars.

Using newly learned human skills, Xue Jin’an lowered his lashes expressionlessly, his fragile frame seeming to teeter.

Immediately, everyone’s gaze toward the Fourth Prince changed.