To Forever Love Him (Original Edition)

2.6

*unedited*

It's been a week, and Du Qiang had been avoiding Sun Hui the whole time. All he did was write poems, and Chen Bao delivered them.

It was starting to get really irritating.

Sun Hui was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how to get the Emperor speaking to him again.

Whether it was because he was Wang Shuo, or this was a hindrance to his plans, Sun Hui needed this to end.

He clenched the golden ring in his palm, feeling nervous. He wished that his AI, more then ever, could track down people. That way, he could see what the Emperor was doing. Alas, in this world, his AI was only useful for digging out old archives.

I never realized how much I hated historical worlds until now, Sun Hui thought as he sat at the edge of his bed.

A knock came on the door, and Sun Hui immediately bolted up. What if it was the Emperor?

He hurriedly opened the door, but his excitement dwindled when he saw it was only Fan Jiahao.

"Am I really that depressing to see?" Fan Jiahao frowned. Ouch. So mean.

Sun Hui shook his head, "It's not you."

"Are you okay, though? Really? You've been depressed all week, cooped up in your room," Fan Jiahao pointed out.

Sun Hui looked away, gritting his teeth, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Fan Jiahao bluntly stated. "You need air. How about we spar, like how we used to? They have a field outside in the courtyard for when the soldiers get bored or want to duel."

Sun Hui did realize he spent too much time in his room and too much time worrying about the Emperor, an Emperor that might not be his Wang Shuo after all.

"Okay," Sun Hui breathed, walking out of the room.

As they walked into the courtyard, Sun Hui's mind once again wandered to the Emperor and Wang Shuo. Two different people, but very similar in personality.

"Jing'er, you're spacing out again," Fan Jiahao called.

Sun Hui jerked himself out of his thoughts and grabbed the training sword that Fan Jiahao was holding out to him.

"Just forget about that bastard, eh? Don't let him get into your head—that's what he wants," Fan Jiahao said, tossing his sword in the air with one hand and catching it with the other.

"I already told you, the Emperor and I don't have that relationship!" Sun Hui scolded him. "He's more of an...an asshole."

His voice faltered when he said the last word. He only ever called Wang Shuo that. But, for some reason, calling the Emperor that felt just as right. Sun Hui was confused for a moment. Why did it feel okay saying that? Why did it not feel so hard to say it? Was the Emperor really Wang Shuo, then? That was the only explanation he could think of.

"If you keep spacing out," Fan Jiahao said, pushing Sun Hui onto the ground and pointing the tip of his sword at him, "you're going to lose every time."

Sun Hui regained focus, and for about two hours the two friendly sparred. When they were done, they were both dripping in sweat and covered in dirt and mud.

"You should take a bath," Fan Jiahao said.

"Me? What about you?" Sun Hui narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Don't look at me like that," he raised his hands in surrender. "Ever since we got here, the Emperor bastard is making me work my butt off in the field. It's like he has something against me."