Wu Qi was only ten years old.
But his ten years were very different from those of an ordinary child.
That was why Shu Feng couldn’t help but feel a kind of dark admiration. With the right guidance, Wu Qi could become a remarkably useful pawn. Yet he couldn’t allow the boy to remain near Fengguang. He didn’t want to—no, he refused to—see another man, years later, become someone like himself, willing to do anything, abandon everything, just to possess her.
“Master.”
Qi Yuan appeared at some point and walked toward them. His eyes were cold as they flicked over Wu Qi, silently asking for instructions on how to deal with the child.
Shu Feng gave a short, quiet laugh. “Lord Shu, since you’re here, why not show yourself properly?”
A lazy voice answered with a chuckle. “Ahaha, I was just… passing by.”
Shu Qiu stepped out from behind a tree, fanning himself with his usual playful grin, completely unbothered by the situation.
When Wu Qi saw him, his face turned even paler.
“Since you’re just passing by,” Shu Feng said mildly, “shall I assume this child’s fate is mine to decide?”
“No, no, that won’t do.” Shu Qiu quickly waved his hands. “Even if this child is a murderer, he still has to be brought back to the yamen and dealt with according to the law.”
Shu Feng smiled faintly. “Since Lord Shu insists… very well. We’ll do it your way.”
Shu Qiu blinked, genuinely surprised by his compliance. “You truly mean to let me take Wu Qi back to the yamen?”
“Didn’t you just say justice must be served?”
“Yes… yes, of course.” Shu Qiu turned to the boy. “You’re coming with me.”
Wu Qi’s voice was defiant. “I’m not going.”
Shu Qiu’s patience snapped. “Don’t forget—you’re a murderer now.”
“I know.” Wu Qi’s eyes hardened. “Just like the plays on stage—once you’re branded a killer, you’ll never be able to lift your head among people again.”
“You know that, yet you still killed so many.” Shu Qiu shook his head. “Five lives, boy. Five children about your age.”
“They deserved to die.” Wu Qi’s head snapped up, his voice rising. “Yes, I don’t have a father—but I know what honor and shame mean! They had fathers and mothers, so what? They were arrogant, cruel! Killing them rid the world of pests!”
He didn’t sound like a ten-year-old at all.
“I don’t think I did anything wrong,” Wu Qi said fiercely. “I didn’t. Why does everyone—just like my mother—say that I did?”
Shu Qiu, uncharacteristically solemn, replied, “Even if they were rotten children, killing is never a small matter.”
“I don’t need your preaching!”
In one swift motion, Wu Qi drew a dagger from inside his robe. His gaze swept coldly across the adults around him. “You’re all hypocrites. No one in this world has the right to judge me!”
“Wait—Wu Qi!” Shu Qiu shouted.
But he was a moment too late.
Wu Qi slashed his own throat. Blood sprayed into the air as he collapsed to the ground.
In that final instant, his eyes flickered—like someone suddenly waking from a daze. He looked at the white-haired man in the pale robe, almost divine in the moonlight. Fear widened his pupils until they went still and glassy, never closing again.
Shu Qiu rushed forward and caught the boy’s body, but there was no breath left in him.
“What a pity,” Shu Feng murmured softly, his expression tinged with sorrow.
Shu Qiu looked up at him, heart pounding. He was holding the lifeless body of a child, and yet the man before him seemed utterly calm. A chill crept up his spine.
A breeze stirred the air. Shu Feng coughed lightly, and Qi Yuan said, “Master, it’s time for your medicine.”
“Let’s go.” Shu Feng nodded politely to Shu Qiu. “Lord Shu, I’ll take my leave.”
Before Shu Qiu could answer, Shu Feng was already walking away with Qi Yuan at his side.
The two guards at the Xia estate gates, who had witnessed the entire scene from start to finish, didn’t move or speak. Their eyes stayed fixed straight ahead, expressions blank.
Shu Qiu understood a little more in that moment. He finally grasped the meaning of the emperor’s words to him before he left the capital:
“Unless absolutely necessary, do not get too close to that man.”