The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish Chapter 76

This place was indeed the giant cave where he and Yin Wuzhi had fallen from the cliff.

At the time, Yin Wuzhi had told him that the cave was a vast network, almost like a communal living area, but because he was unwell back then, he wasn’t able to explore the entirety of it.

Yin Wuzhi had also found footprints on the cave floor, as if someone had scouted the area beforehand.

This place wasn’t far from Guanjing, and with fast horses, it would only take four to five hours for a round trip. Located below a cliff, it seemed that Zhao Cheng’s people must have discovered this natural hiding spot by then and were preparing to move in.

Jiang Wu was carried to the lake at the bottom of the cliff. The lake’s water was crystal clear, with a faint blue hue.

At the third quarter of si shi, the sunlight was just right, warm on his face.

Zhao Cheng stood behind him, rubbing his chin while reflecting on the conversation he’d had with Gu Yan earlier.

He asked, “What should I do to cure him?”

Gu Yan replied, “You need to rekindle his hope for life and let him feel the world’s kindness and beauty.”

How do you make someone feel that the world is kind and beautiful?

A shadow fell over Jiang Wu as they moved him closer to the lake’s edge. Soon after, a fishing rod was handed to him, and Zhao Cheng commanded, “Fish.”

Jiang Wu: “?”

Zhao Cheng ordered someone to bring a chair and sat down next to him, recalling the relaxed look his royal father had when fishing. He confidently said, “Once you catch a fish, you’ll know what accomplishment feels like.”

Jiang Wu held the rod for a while but soon found it too heavy. He let go, and the rod slowly slid toward the water.

Zhao Cheng immediately grabbed it and handed it back to him, saying, “Hold it tight.”

He wrapped Jiang Wu’s hand around the rod, but as soon as he let go, the rod started slipping again. Zhao Cheng grabbed his hand and glared at him coldly, “I told you to hold it tight.”

“Tired.”

“How can fishing be tiring? Do you know how many people wish they had the time to fish?”

The Pessimist wasn’t interested in fishing and certainly wasn’t going to cooperate with Zhao Cheng out of sheer obligation.

Zhao Cheng ended up holding his hand to fish. Jiang Wu frowned, continually wanting to let go, but every time he did, the rod noticeably slipped, so he had no choice but to hold on.

After about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, the fishing line moved slightly. Zhao Cheng quickly lifted the rod, and a large carp splashed out of the water, droplets flying everywhere.

Raising an eyebrow, Zhao Cheng said, “See…” But he quickly realized Jiang Wu had fallen asleep. He shook him awake, and when Jiang Wu groggily opened his eyes, Zhao Cheng said, “Look, you caught a fish!” He rubbed Jiang Wu’s eyes and removed anything obstructing his view so he could see more clearly. “I’ll have it braised for you later. How about that?”

Jiang Wu sighed enviously, “The fish is going to die.”

His tone remained flat, and there was no change in his expression or gaze, leaving Zhao Cheng unsure of what he was really thinking. Zhao Cheng frowned, looked at the fish the servants had just removed, and recalled Gu Yan’s words about making him feel the world’s kindness. He then commanded, “Let it go.”

The servant’s eyes widened. “But, Your Highness, you waited an entire incense stick’s time to catch that fish.”

Zhao Cheng felt his teeth clenching.

Having fished with his royal father since childhood, Zhao Cheng naturally enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that came from catching a fish, but now…

With great reluctance, he ordered, “Release it.”

Fishing hadn’t instilled any sense of kindness in Jiang Wu. Instead, it made him feel the cruelty of the act. Zhao Cheng sulked as he paced behind him, thinking, “How about I take you on a horse ride through the forest?”

Jiang Wu responded, “Bumpy.”

“You’re an emperor now, so you probably haven’t ridden in a while,” Zhao Cheng remembered, suddenly lifting Jiang Wu from his chair and placing him onto a horse. When Jiang Wu began to lean sideways, Zhao Cheng immediately mounted behind him. Glancing at the still-wet cliff, Zhao Cheng assumed the Xia people would come soon to rescue their emperor. Turning to Jiang Wu, he said, “I remember you used to love galloping outdoors. We even raced a few times. I’m feeling generous today, so let me remind you what it’s like to chase the wind.”

He cracked the whip, and Jiang Wu was forced to ride, trees quickly blurring past.

Jiang Wu, held tightly by Zhao Cheng, swayed from side to side on the horse. Initially, Zhao Cheng was in high spirits, but seeing Jiang Wu start to slump forward, his expression gradually darkened.

When the horse finally stopped, Jiang Wu practically tumbled off. Zhao Cheng hurriedly caught him, dismounted, and threw him onto the ground in frustration, exclaiming, “What’s wrong with you, Jiang Wu? Do you really not care about anything anymore? I remember when you didn’t know my identity, you genuinely enjoyed our races. How could you have changed so much in just a few years?”

Jiang Wu remained motionless.

He was about to vomit from the ride.

Zhao Cheng, suppressing his anger, suddenly grabbed him again, pinning him against a large tree. He cupped Jiang Wu’s pale face and growled, “How dare you think you have the right to wish for death? You have a powerful father, a loving mother who’s always by your side, and you’ve been adored and pampered since birth. Zhao kingdom and your mother joined forces to help you ascend to the throne, and now you hold the ultimate power. Your life is what so many could only dream of. What could you possibly be dissatisfied with?”

Jiang Wu: “…”

Zhao Cheng squeezed his face, making his lips pout. “Speak!”

Jiang Wu, feeling utterly disheartened, said faintly, “Dizzy.”

Zhao Cheng let go.

Jiang Wu hadn’t expected that in Zhao Cheng’s eyes, his original self was such a fortunate person. From Zhao Cheng’s words, it seemed that in the past, when he infiltrated Guanjing, they had even shared a bond. It was only after his identity was exposed that their relationship fractured.

Looking at Zhao Cheng, Jiang Wu paused and then softly asked, “You wouldn’t… be reluctant to kill me, would you?”

“I’m not killing you because I need to trade you for my mother. Do you think I actually care about you?”

“Then why do you insist on curing me?”

Zhao Cheng’s throat tightened.

He recalled their first meeting, back when his father had not yet ascended the throne and Zhao Jing was still the emperor—the beast who had once humiliated his mother. Zhao Cheng had endured countless hardships to gain the trust of that beast, and before coming to the Xia kingdom as a spy, Zhao Jing had finally revealed that his mother was also in Xia Kingdom.

At that moment, he finally understood that his mother had been deliberately sent to the Xia Kingdom after being humiliated, becoming a secret operative of Zhao Kingdom, possibly without even her knowing it.

The first time he saw Jiang Wu, he knew that this was his half-brother. He deliberately got close to him, intending to use him. However, he quickly realized that Jiang Wu truly lived up to his reputation as a “little saint.” Jiang Wu gave his all to everyone, without regard for his own life.

When others do this, it might seem like they are trying too hard to please, but Jiang Wu was simply too perfect. Zhao Cheng often wondered what kind of nurturing environment could produce such a flawless person. When someone as perfect as Jiang Wu is kind to others, no one suspects ulterior motives. Instead, they feel overwhelmed, questioning their own worth, and soon find themselves captivated.

At that time, his mother told him that she intended to take Jiang Wu back to Zhao Kingdom with her.

Because Jiang Wu was exceptional, his royal father agreed. However, he  was no longer the same Zhao Ying who let his mother, Yao Ji, have her way. He was now the ruler of Zhao. Therefore, the condition for Jiang Wu’s return was that Yao Ji had to join the secret operation and help undermine the Xia Kingdom. Together, they devised a plan, and Jiang Wu became a crucial part of it.

Zhao Cheng treated him well, hoping that one day, when they could be honest with each other, Jiang Wu would let go of everything in Xia and return home with him and their mother.

But Jiang Wu discovered Zhao Cheng’s true identity.

The two clashed, leaving both gravely wounded.

As Qi Wang took Zhao Cheng away, the injured Zhao Cheng looked at the equally battered Jiang Wu and mockingly said, “You’re truly perfect.”

A perfect friend, a perfect brother, a perfect enemy.

Switching from one extreme position to another seemed effortless for Jiang Wu, without the slightest hesitation.

Jiang Wu didn’t know they were brothers. He was barely hanging on, lying there, and when he heard the implication in Zhao Cheng’s words, he simply replied, “Your identity is false.”

His identity was false, so everything was false. His identity was false, so he was no longer the person who once laughed and raced horses with Zhao Cheng.

Zhao Cheng endured untold suffering in prison, how could he not hate him?

This time, Zhao Cheng returned with the sole intention of taking revenge on Jiang Wu. If Jiang Wu could switch loyalties so perfectly, Zhao Cheng wondered what would happen if Jiang Wu learned that he was actually a Zhao person. If he found out that the man he had regarded as a father was, in fact, his enemy?

Thus, Yao Ji deceived Jiang Wu, telling him that he was Zhao Ying’s son.

For all this time, Jiang Wu had kept silent, and the deception was kept well. Zhao Cheng felt a sense of revenge; he had often speculated what Jiang Wu might be thinking. Would he continue to oppose his “biological father” or give up on the Xia Kingdom, allowing it to perish, and return to Zhao with his mother?

He had heard that Jiang Wu had always been obedient to his mother, so Zhao Cheng had thought the latter was more likely. But to his surprise, after months of silence, Jiang Wu handed his mother over.

Moreover, he had turned into a lifeless shell.

In truth, as long as Jiang Wu could be used to exchange for his mother, Zhao Cheng didn’t care how he ended up, but he desperately wanted to see some emotion from him. He wanted to know what Jiang Wu thought when he realized he had once fought life and death with his own brother.

It took Zhao Cheng a long moment to find his voice: “Because I want you to fear me.”

Jiang Wu replied, “Very afraid.”

Zhao Cheng: “…”

Just as Zhao Cheng was about to strangle Jiang Wu in frustration, the sound of galloping horses interrupted them. “Your Highness, Yin Wuzhi has arrived.”

The lethargic Jiang Wu was hoisted back up and carried away.

Yin Wuzhi arrived alone.

With the sun now evaporating the moisture from the cliff walls, he descended alone into the valley.

He hadn’t brought anyone because the terrain was low, and if there were ambushes below, it could lead to many casualties.

Especially the large cave—it was an easily defensible, difficult-to-attack place.

When Jiang Wu was thrown back down, Zhao Cheng tossed him onto the ground. As Jiang Wu lazily raised his head, he saw Yin Wuzhi engaged in combat. His opponent wielded a long sword, while Yin Wuzhi, unarmed, was forced to retreat, his clothes already slashed in several places.

His internal injuries had not fully healed, and at this rate, he would only aggravate them further. Jiang Wu said, “Stop.”

Zhao Cheng looked surprised. “It seems you care a lot for this little boy-toy.”

“Let him stop.”

Zhao Cheng crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Yin Wuzhi, once known as the Jade-faced King of H*ll in the southern borderlands, I didn’t get a good look last time in Qi, but now I can see clearly—truly, you’re unparalleled in beauty…”

At that moment, something tugged at his waist. Zhao Cheng looked down and saw that Jiang Wu had grabbed the tail of the small white snake coiled around his belt.

He immediately slapped Jiang Wu’s hand. “It’s venomous! Hiss—”

The little snake opened its mouth and bit, but since he moved in time, it sank its fangs into his hand.

Zhao Cheng: “…”

Holding his bleeding hand, Zhao Cheng glared at Jiang Wu.

Jiang Wu said, “If I bite my tongue and die, how will you trade me for mother?”

Zhao Cheng sucked the blood from his finger and then ordered, “He Fan, stop.”

It turned out to be He Wei’s son. No wonder he attacked Yin Wuzhi like a rabid dog.

He Fan sheathed his sword, though his hands were still trembling with anger. Yin Wuzhi straightened himself, pulling at his torn sleeve, and said, “Young General He is still a bit too young and impulsive compared to his father.”

“Yin Wuzhi,” Jiang Wu called out. “Come here.”

Did he realize where he was? How could he still act so fearlessly?

Yin Wuzhi glanced at him, and Jiang Wu noticed that his mood wasn’t good. But Yin Wuzhi quickly averted his gaze, stepped forward, and addressed Zhao Cheng. “Greetings to the Crown Prince of Zhao.”

“It seems the young general is here with an imperial decree.”

“Indeed,” Yin Wuzhi said. “Since Your Highness’s aim is only the Empress Dowager Yao, let us choose a location and make the exchange as soon as possible.”

“Yin Shu, oh Yin Shu,” Zhao Cheng stepped forward, eyeing him up and down. “You killed so many of my Zhao countrymen in the southern borders, and now you dare to venture into danger alone? Your courage is truly beyond ordinary.”

Suddenly, He Fan struck a heavy whip on Yin Wuzhi’s back from behind. Yin Wuzhi didn’t dodge, but his hairpin was knocked off by the blow, and his long hair fell down as searing pain spread across his back.

He Fan sneered, “Such audacity, thinking we won’t dare to touch your emperor. You think we won’t dare to touch you either?”

Zhao Cheng remarked, “Take it easy. After all, this is Xia Emperor’s little lover. If you damage him, he’ll surely be upset.”

Receiving the tacit approval, He Fan raised the whip again, but was interrupted by Jiang Wu saying, “Don’t touch him.”

Zhao Cheng suddenly realized, “Oh, so you’re worried about Yin Wuzhi getting hurt.”

Yin Wuzhi glanced over at Jiang Wu.

He Fan’s interest piqued, “So that’s it. Young General Yin sheds blood on the front lines, only to come back and sweat in the emperor’s bed? How touching!”

Another whip landed harshly on Yin Wuzhi’s back, and He Fan laughed loudly.

Zhao Cheng chuckled along, and the surrounding soldiers also joined in with malicious laughter.

“Hey, little general, why don’t you stay with us for a while? Seeing your emperor in this state, it seems he won’t be able to satisfy you, will he?”

“Why not stay tonight? We brothers won’t mind your company.”

Zhao Cheng stroked his chin, pushing aside Yin Wuzhi’s hair. “If word gets out that you, the ‘Jade-Faced King of H*ll,’ have been in the emperor’s bed, that nickname might have to change to ‘Jade-Faced Maiden.'”

He tilted his head, watching Jiang Wu’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

Yin Wuzhi also looked at Jiang Wu, while He Fan grew more brazen, suddenly kicking Yin Wuzhi in the knees, forcing him to kneel in front of Jiang Wu. “What’s the matter? A moment ago you were as slippery as a fish, but now, in front of your emperor, you can’t even stand properly?”

Jiang Wu remained in his discarded posture, sitting on the ground. His clear eyes slowly shifted upwards, locking onto He Fan’s sneering face.

He watched He Fan’s lips curl with laughter, the smugness puffing up his cheeks.

His father’s killer knelt before him, and He Fan grew more and more excited, completely unconcerned with Zhao Cheng’s lack of intervention.

Zhao Cheng smiled and stepped back, allowing He Fan to continue humiliating the enemy general.

He Fan grabbed a fistful of Yin Wuzhi’s hair. “Is this how you held my father’s head when you presented it to your emperor?”

He punched Yin Wuzhi in the face, and blood immediately trickled from his mouth.

Jiang Wu’s fingers clenched tightly, his pupils constricting slightly.

He clawed the earth beneath him, leaving erratic lines in the dirt, his nails caked with mud.

Zhao Cheng glanced at him, his smile fading slightly. “He Fan, stop.”

He Fan sneered, “Yin Wuzhi, you seduced the Xia Emperor with that face of yours, didn’t you? But tell me, if that face were ruined, would he still care about you? Look at your emperor—he can’t even eat without our crown prince…”

He turned to face a pair of lifeless eyes.

Jiang Wu’s long hair cascaded straight down his back. His pale lips and stunning face held an eerie, ghostly quality.

His throat tightened, and suddenly, his entire body was lifted like a piece of paper and slammed onto the ground.

His chest heaved, blood foaming from his mouth.

He stared wide-eyed at the Xia Emperor, who had just been at death’s door.

Jiang Wu’s hand moved upward and dislocated He Fan’s jaw.

“I said, don’t touch him.” Jiang Wu tilted his head, his cold eyes emanating a chilling aura. “Didn’t you understand?”