𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 || 敵の旦那様 (𝐁𝐋) ✔ [COMPLETE]

24. A Genius Talks

But of course, Fu Lin did not wait.

His feet, used to running away for quite some time now, did not even waver as they navigated past the various couches, twists and turns of the Zhou Manor. His body due to its petite stature was agile and flexible, feet as nimble as an ant and body twirling in all angles to such precision that even the General had a hard time keeping up with his pace. By the time the General had caught up to the dancing remnant of his salmon-coloured robe, Fu Lin had already locked himself inside a room.

Haoran panted against the sandalwood door, heaving into it with all his strength. This fellow was so good at running away that it was almost an undefeated skill.

"Your Highness please, I request you to open the door." He yelled towards the door, clutching the bag he picked up. "I need to tell you something."

However, unsurprisingly, no response came. Silence reigned for a long time and yet all that Haoran got as an answer was the presence of empty air.

"Your Highness, please," he rasped, knocking unceremoniously against the door. "I need to tell you something very important."

And yet again, what greeted him was the blank surface of the sandalwood door. Just as he was thinking of ways to convince Fu Lin to converse with him, he saw the bag he'd picked up in the

aftermath of the run and an idea struck him. He knew that this was a kind of dishonourable, but he... really couldn't help it.

"If you don't come out," He said with an extremely serious face, "I'll peek into the bag you always carry around your waist."

The trick didn't seem to work, so it seemed that Fu Lin didn't actually care whether he saw what was in that bag. Hence, when he opened the bag, he was quite stunned to see that it was filled with... sand.

Why... was he carrying sand around?

No, seriously, why?

Never mind, he was beyond human comprehension anyway, so the General might as well focus his energy on how to get Fu Lin to talk to him. As he kept gazing at the crystal clear sand and the brocade bag that carried them, the General had another idea.

"If..." He spoke shamelessly "If... you don't talk now, then this General will have to throw this bag out the window."

At that, there was a noise from within the room and the sound of something rustling heavily was heard. After a few more moments of silence, the soft sound of something shuffling beneath the door and consequently passing was heard. When the General directed his eyes down, he saw a piece of paper at the foot of the door.

He had forgotten that Fu Lin could not speak temporarily.

He picked up the paper that was not there before and observed it carefully. On a piece of crude, cheap paper written in callous brush strokes that one would deem were penned by a ruthless butcher and not a prince were some standard Kanglun language characters:

"Proclaim what you want to say. I shall respond through notes"

So it seems he was hated to a point where he'd rather not be seen and would have to resort to exchanging letters through a petty door. He sighed wearily and opened his mouth.

"What I wanted to tell was" He had regained his usual stoic demeanour as he spoke formally "That a letter has arrived from the minister of revenue inviting the Zhou family heads for a feast by tomorrow and that I want you to get ready for it. While I can tolerate your... simple and plain choice of clothes within the Zhou Manor, I cannot allow you to wear those clothes to the Minister's residence as you would parade the house representing the Zhou Family and its emblem. Therefore, I'd urge you to wear the official Zhou Manor robes for the visit and interact

with me normally, just for tomorrow, instead of running away as if you've witnessed something abominable whenever you see me."

Even if he was hated to the point of getting vomited on, a day of normal interaction was bearable for anybody was what the General believed. The sound of brushes dipping in ink sizzled about and after a while, another note appeared beneath:

"I will not wear that itchy official robe"

Sometimes he really couldn't believe that this man was a prince. He frowned implicitly, trying to look for a solution and answered briefly,

"Fine, it would not be the official robe but something worth the Zhou family's name and it would be something specifically chosen by the Imperial designer."

Another note made its way down the door, and the General managed to pick it up. It read:

"I have one more condition- The Imperial General cannot harm this poor soul for the entirety of the next day starting now and in accordance with this condition, this Fu Lin shall interact with the General."

It seems he really did bear a grudge against the General for threatening him with his Imperial sword at the royal court and this was something that was, of course, expected of someone looking out for their survival- and therefore, he could only agree. Not protest nor ask why.

"Alright," he said.

Before he could go, another note slipped by and the General. Slightly curious, he picked it up to see what he had written now that official business was over. Could it be something personal...like a goodnight wish? The note read:

"Please keep your promises and leave my sandbag behind. I'm scared that your trash can hands might tear them. Also, you can't try to open the door and beat me up for calling your hands trash cans; you have promised to not harm me until the next day is over no matter what I say."

Haoran crumpled the paper in his hand and glared daggers at the door as if his telepathic anger would somehow reach Fu Lin through the door. It seems that even though he was a fool almost all year around, only when it comes to being a weakling did he become a genius.

The General wanted to walk away, he absolutely really wanted to walk away without being childish enough to lose his temper over something so trivial. But even as he turned to go, his 'goodnight' expecting self couldn't bear it and turned around to yell,

"I wish you have the worst night ever." 

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Why so petty bro? ＼(〇_ｏ)／