Qin Huai had been a refined gentleman for nineteen years.
Among the capital's noble families, who hadn't heard that the Grand Tutor Qin's grandson had earned top honors at just seventeen?
But after only two years serving in the Hanlin Academy, he lost his life during an assassination attempt on an autumn hunt, taking a sword meant for the Seventh Prince.
Yan Wenmin stared at Qin Huai, who stood in front of him, and his mind went blank.
"Your Highness!" "Your Highness, hurry and run!"
The eunuchs nearby called out anxiously.
Yan Wenmin paid them no heed. He could only think of the blade that had pierced Qin Huai's chest, its gaping maw seeming to laugh at him.
The two of them had been at odds to the point that even the emperor's personal attempts to mediate their conflict had come to nothing.
So who could tell him why, when that sword had been thrust at him, it was that very man who took the blow for him?
Qin Huai lowered his head to look at the sword through his heart. The bloodied corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
At last, he could ignore the world's judgment and be himself, just once.
But this time, it would be the last.
Gravely wounded, Qin Huai soon breathed his last in Yan Wenmin's arms. When he opened his eyes again, three years had passed since his death.
Even worse, he found himself lying on the new emperor's dragon bed.
Looking at the man whose appearance had not changed in the slightest, Qin Huai decided that this time, he absolutely would not die young!
Theme: Recognize your own heart and take hold of the hand reaching for you
Very well written. Press claws 🌈 🌈