Chapter 901: Emperor and Emperor

Li Fu took a deep breath and reached for the Quasi-Emperor’s Mandate again. He roared in anger, trying with all his might to grasp it.

But with a muffled thud, he was swept away and flung back, landing with a splat like mud on the ground.

The grand hall fell into a deathly silence.

Seeing this, Han Dong’s eyes filled with helplessness and bitterness. After a moment of internal struggle, he made up his mind and bowed deeply to Li Fu, who lay in a pool of blood.

He bid him to take care and turned to walk out of the hall.

Li Fu lay quietly in the pool of blood, his eyes staring blankly upwards, like a silent corpse.

“Brother Li, what if we just stop trying?” A-Qian, who was already in tears, scurried to Li Fu’s side, gently nudging him, her voice filled with pleading.

“A-Qian… everyone else has left. Aren’t you going?”

“No, I’m not going! I’m staying with Brother Li. I’m not going anywhere!” A-Qian’s voice was stubborn.

Li Fu didn’t answer. Sometimes, a child’s heart was the purest. A-Qian was too dependent on him now; it was clear she would stay by his side, no matter life or death. But Li Fu couldn’t let her die here.

Li Fu had already decided that once he recovered a little, he would beg Wu Qiong to take A-Qian with her.

As for himself…

Zhu Chong’s figure flashed through Li Fu’s mind, and his hands, still in the pool of blood, clenched again.

“Brother Li, don’t do anything foolish.” A-Qian panicked when she saw Li Fu’s gaze. “We won’t go anywhere. Let’s just rest here for a while, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Li Fu gave A-Qian a deep look, then slowly and with difficulty climbed out of the pool of blood. He walked to the steps below the throne and slowly sat down.

The boy’s plain clothes were stained with blood. He sat alone in the grand hall, with nothing left beside him but a girl crying herself to a tear-streaked mess. He never imagined that after everything he’d been through, he would end up like this.

Li Fu recalled all that had happened before, and gave a bitter smile.

Just then, a figure clad in a large red opera robe silently entered the hall.

Seeing the figure, Li Fu’s body trembled slightly, and his heart immediately sank. Had he really come for him at this moment?

Heaven truly wished for his demise.

Yet, after considering his situation, his heart ironically became calm.

Now he had nothing; he was truly a stray dog. If the Actor Emperor came to take his life, what was there to fear?

The demonic red-robed emperor slowly approached Li Fu, but Li Fu did not rise from the steps. His dim eyes, beneath the throne, quietly watched everything, as if it had nothing to do with him.

“What a touching scene…”

Beneath his wide sleeves, Chen Ling gently clapped, a crisp sound echoing through the hall.

“It’s just a pity that the story’s ending seems destined to be a tragedy.”

Seeing Chen Ling approach, A-Qian’s face instantly turned pale.

But she disregarded everything else, rushing down the steps directly. Her delicate body spread its arms, blocking Chen Ling’s path!

“You… don’t touch my Brother Li!!”

“A-Qian!!”

Seeing A-Qian rush forward, Li Fu, who had already resigned himself to death, could no longer sit still. He staggered to his feet and cried out.

Chen Ling looked at the girl before him, her face streaked with tears, and his heart trembled slightly. In a daze, a memory surged within him:

Star after star faded from the sky.

Amidst the desperate wind and snow, a young boy in an opera robe cupped a handful of cinnabar-like fragments and spoke softly:

“Brother, you are not without hope…”

“The path they severed…”

“I will reconnect it for you.”

Chen Ling fell silent.

He gazed at those tender yet resolute eyes, and the deepest part of his heart was touched. His eyes, lost in memory, revealed a trace of complex emotion.

His hand gently lifted.

“Whatever you want, do it to me!! Don’t hurt her!!” Li Fu’s eyes widened. He struggled to stop Chen Ling, but he was too gravely injured and exhausted. His foot slipped, and he tumbled down the steps.

A-Qian was trembling. Even though she steadfastly held her arms out to shield Li Fu, the fear from deep within her was insurmountable. Seeing the hand lift, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away.

A moment later, a gentle hand softly stroked her head.

A-Qian paused, then looked up in confusion. She saw a pair of doting eyes. Those eyes seemed to be looking at her, or perhaps, at someone else.

A-Qian was momentarily at a loss.

Chen Ling stroked her head, his gaze gradually returning to normal. He withdrew his hand and walked directly towards Li Fu, his calm voice echoing through the hall.

“You have a good sister.”

“Your destiny, your subordinates, everything has abandoned you… but she hasn’t.”

Both A-Qian and Li Fu were stunned.

“What… what exactly do you want?” Li Fu’s brows furrowed tightly.

The large red opera robe did not move to strike him. Instead, the figure calmly ascended the steps, then turned and sat on the topmost one. The vibrant red robe spread out on the black steps, like a bright and dangerous flower.

“Let her go out for a while. We need to talk,” Chen Ling said calmly.

Li Fu silently watched Chen Ling, unsure what trick he was playing.

However, it seemed he held no ill will towards A-Qian, which was the most important thing to Li Fu. He turned and whispered something to A-Qian, who then nodded worriedly and ran out of the hall.

Finally, only Chen Ling and Li Fu remained in the grand hall.

“Sit.”

Chen Ling patted the step beside him.

At this point, Li Fu had nothing left to fear. He was like a condemned prisoner before execution, calmly walking up the step and sitting beside Chen Ling.

The empty grand hall fell into a deathly silence.

Below the throne, a figure in a large red opera robe sat in silence with a blood-soaked boy in plain clothes.

The setting sun gradually sank below the horizon. The lingering twilight rays passed through the desolate imperial palace, illuminating the steps of the empty hall. The line separating light and shadow bisected the throne, diagonally dividing the space between the two men, like a sharp sword.

The blood-stained boy sat silently in the golden light, while the vermilion opera robe bloomed in the darkness.

“What exactly do you want?” After an unknown period of silence, Li Fu finally couldn’t help but ask.

Chen Ling didn’t answer. He simply gazed quietly at the sun as it slowly dipped below the horizon, his eyes deep as an abyss, as if reminiscing or lost in thought.

“…I can understand you,” Chen Ling said calmly, his eyes reflecting the setting sun. “Our experiences are actually quite similar… The difference is that my salvation is no longer here, while yours is still by your side.”

Li Fu was startled. He didn’t seem to understand what Chen Ling was saying, nor did he know what Chen Ling had gone through, but when he saw those eyes, he felt, for some reason, an intense sense of loneliness and sorrow.

He glanced at the towering throne behind him. After a moment of silence, he tentatively asked, “You… have you also experienced such despair?”

Chen Ling smiled, glancing at the rising audience expectation value. He replied casually, “Right now, I am still deeply entrenched in it.”