12. Coexistence

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Even though General Haoran grounded that mosquito fellow on a whim, he was now kind of regretting the hasty decision. He thought that Bastard running around outside the house would cause him greater trouble than him running amok inside the house.

How very wrong he was!

This piece of work that nobody could control had now turned the Zhou family manor—his ancestral palace bestowed by the former Emperor himself—into a horrific abyss that he wished he wouldn't have to step on.

This manor had been the one place that he could come from the wrath of the battlefield to wash off the blood on his body and heart and allow him to rest himself. But now just the mere sight of his own damn nature terrified him.

Because his once untainted manor now had remnants of that mosquito bastard's shadow lurking within it everywhere!

Just as he thought this and took a step outside his office within the Zhou Manor, he came across Fu Lin, who was jumping about behind a manservant. From the looks of it, Fu Lin was trying to get the manservant to talk to him about something, but the guy simply wanted to avoid him.

"Say, who do you think wears that underwear with flower embroidery on it?" Fu Lin asked excitedly "I saw it hanging on the public clothesline."

"Your Grace," The servant looked very uncomfortable. "It is forbidden to exercise unnecessary speech within the Zhou Manor. The Zhou Manor is a place of virtue and silence, so please refrain from talking about people's undergarments."

Fu Lin's face went dim. "This whole place is like some prison. Why don't you try wearing jail clothes too?"

General Haoran felt his heart burn with fury. This was how he'd been from day one—breaking the rules of Zhou Manor one by one and slandering the manor. General Haoran looked at Fu Lin's attire and almost scoffed. He looked no different from a beggar, and he had the nerve to talk about jail clothes!

It was imperative within the Zhou family rules that the Masters of the House dress formally within the house as nobles do and don the crown of the Blazing Sun as a form of reverence to the Empire. However, on the very first day itself, Fu Lin (the 'mosquito') bastard refused to wear the official robes assigned by the Zhou Manor towards his in-laws.

"What?!" Fu Lin had complained and yelled, "Of course I wouldn't wear that... expensive-looking itchy material! I have my own clothes and NO crowns! Just no! You don't know how much they hurt my scalp."

When the servant narrated the whole thing to the general with a blue face nearly in tears, the general barely had to stop himself from throwing himself into the streets with his own hands. When he went to inquire about the situation and reprimand Fu Lin, he had already run away somewhere.

Does this guy only know how to manage his problems by running away or something?

Furious, General Haoran ordered his servants to look for the bastard immediately. After searching the whole manor, one of the servants discovered that he was actually on the roof, curled into a ball and shivering. The servants had quickly ushered him to the open area of the garden where the roof was visible.

"What are you doing, your highness?" General Haoran screamed, "People can see you from there! Get back down here."

Amid the gusting wind, Fu Lin didn't directly answer the General but looked at a servant on the side and said, "But the General said I couldn't run away and that I was grounded to the Zhou Manor."

Why was he referring to himself in the third person? And why was he—the general—getting ignored? This fellow is beyond human reason!

"Your Highness, Just because you're grounded within the Zhou Manor doesn't mean you can run to the roof when something happens." General wanted to ask whether he could do anything besides run.

"The roof is a part of the Zhou Manor, right?"

The general was speechless. Beyond the walls, people were gathering, and since the Zhou Manor was above ground level, anything that happened on the rooftop would make for quite a spectacle to them. Whispers and crowd noises erupted around the manor.

General Haoran really didn't want to add to the rumors and gossip anymore. It was very possible that the Emperor knew what happened with the previous elopement but chose to ignore it to give him some face. If something more happens and further rumors spread, he wasn't sure the Emperor would remain passive the next time. And that he couldn't afford.

Besides, now that he looked clearly, that mosquito bastard was once again in his underwear.

He really must be a pervert!

"What would it take for the seventh prince to come down?" General Haoran asked calmly, trying to appear pacifying. "I'll grant you one wish. You should take that and come down obediently."

Fu Lin appeared to think for a while seriously and said—again, not to him but to the servant close by, by referring to him in the third person. "I want to live however I want in this house."

General Haoran felt an ugly sense of defeat in his heart. Never had somebody ever taken his own words and twisted them against himself so badly. He pinched his forehead exasperatedly and said,"Your condition shall be fulfilled."

Only after that did Fu Lin come down and obediently walk into the dressing room, not giving the general a second glance. There was a slight tremor in his shoulders as he walked past the general, and General Haoran's eyes darkened.

It seemed he was still afraid of him. Good.

That happened last week, and right now, as the General looked at him, he was really focused on getting the man-servant to answer his underwear gossip. He nonchalantly observed what was so special about the dress he was currently wearing for him to refuse both the official robe and the Blazing Sun golden crown.

It was a wide-sleeved robe that draped his body; the texture was softer than most royal robes, and the color faded due to constant washing. The color was a mixture of both salmon and ivory, which complemented his cherry-stuffed lips and skin color.

His hair was a dark black, bound by a bun and flowing down in a cascade, where one single fringe that looked so out of place in his hair bounced about recklessly as he jumped here and there asking questions. The bun was bound by a thread of jasmine flowers, and that seemed to be the only ornament on him, two singular strands of jasmine lilting against his hair.

For a belt, he had nothing but a simple silver chain drawn around his hip, from which a small bag hung.

General Haoran looked away, displeased. He always had this irrational urge to cut off that unsightly fringe that was dancing about whenever he saw him. Also, what was in that bag? What's he carrying in there? Truly, what a befitting look for a weakling! Such forgettable plainness.

Just as he was about to assume ignorance and turn away, Fu Lin saw the general at the corner. He immediately opened his mouth and screamed like his life depended on that one bellow, and he ran away like a fly that saw a lizard. This was another habit of his—to yell his lungs out and dash whenever he sees the general.

General Haoran closed his eyes in exasperation.

He really didn't want to deal with this man anymore.

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