"What?!"
Ming'er immediately shoots up from his bed upon hearing Mingsan's words. He doesn't even flinch when his knees scream at him, practically begging him to sit back down.
"Woah there, Big Brother," Mingsan steps forward to sit his older brother back down, only to stumble slightly as though he'd momentarily lost his balance.
"Mingsan!" Ming'er exclaims as he grips his younger brother by the shoulders to steady him. They end up in a pretty awkward position.
The brothers stare at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing, thus breaking the awkward silence that was hanging in the air.
"I guess we should both take a seat," Mingsan murmurs as he gestures towards his older brother's bed.
Ming'er nods in agreement before he sits both his younger brother and himself down onto the his bed.
Ming'er feels his muscles relax as soon as he sits back down, to his body's relief. His previously screaming knees were practically thanking him for listening to them.
"You know what?," Ming'er suddenly says, "Let's keep it short, okay? You should head back to your quarters and rest earlier."
Ming'er couldn't help but notice how gaunt Mingsan looked. He was much paler than usual, and the usual sharpness in his eyes was replaced by dullness and fatigue.
Ming'er internally winces at the dark eye bags under his younger brother's eyes. He hadn't noticed earlier, but now that he was seeing him close up, he realizes that Mingsan's eyes were also slightly bloodshot.
/He must've stayed up all night trying to get to the bottom of the assassination attempt last night.../
Ming'er groans as he grabs at his hair. He has absolutely no recollection of what happened the night before. Well, obviously because Ming'er hadn't been in his own body, but he couldn't tell Mingsan that!
As much as Ming'er wants to know who the assassin could've been, he wants to do what the heck had happened last night, and what the heck he waking up in that strange modern universe had been all about!
"Actually, Mingsan," Ming'er suddenly says, "I don't think either of us are in the best state to be discussing an assassination attempt."
"Yeah," Mingsan agrees weakly, "I suppose you're right."
"Let's just leave it," Ming'er suggests as he turns to Mingsan, "For now. We can talk about it another day."
"Sounds like a plan," Mingsan nods, "It's not like we're in a hurry or anything, the investigation's still ongoing. Besides, you have even more Imperial Guards guarding and protecting you now."
"Yeah," Ming'er nods as he pinches the bridge of his nose slightly as another wave of nausea sweeps over him.
"Actually," Ming'er suddenly says, "Do you think we could talk about something...lighter?"
"Lighter?" Mingsan furrows slightly at this, not really sure as to what his older brother meant. "Like what?"
"Do you think," Ming'er replies, "You can fill me in on what happened at the Choosing last night?"
"Huh?" Mingsan frowns, looking visibly confused, "Are you saying that you don't remember anything?"
"Nope," Ming'er replies, popping the 'p' as he does so. "Falling down the stairs isn't exactly the best for memory, you know."
"All right, all right, you smartmouth," Mingsan drawls as he rolls his eyes slightly at his older brother's sarcastic remark.
"So, what do you want to know?" Mingsan asks as he leans back slightly against his older brother's bed.
"Tell me everything," Ming'er replies, almost a little too seriously, "From the beginning to the end."
"Wow," Mingsan chuckles as he sucks in sharp breath, "Well, you're gonna be in for a ride. Do you want the long version, or do you want the short version?"
"The short version?" Ming'er repeats with a slight raise of his brow, "You mean, like a summary of something?"
"Yeah," Mingsan nods, "A lot happened last night, but I'll try my best to sum everything up if you want to."
"Well," Ming'er purses his lips, "I did say that we should keep it short earlier, so let's do just that."
"All right, then," Mingsan agrees as he sucks in another sharp breath.
Ming'er can practically see the gears turning in his younger brother's head as he tries to figure how he can best sum up the events of the day before.
"So," Mingsan finally says after a brief moment, "You know that yesterday was the Choosing, right?"
"Yup," Ming'er nods, remembering how Mingyi had mentioned that it'd apparently been the Choosing the day before.
It wasn't that Ming'er didn't know about the Choosing. In fact, the Emperor had informed about it months before (to his dismay).
Ming'er was shocked when the Emperor first told him that he'd be undergoing the Choosing in a few months' time.
Then again, it didn't really come off as much of a surprise. Given the unspoken rule that'd been hanging in the stifling atmosphere of the Imperial Palace, how the Emperor pretty much started grooming Ming'er to become his successor as soon as Mingyi had fallen out of favor, Ming'er had sort of seen it coming.
Ming'er resented the idea of the Choosing because of what it meant- it was the traditional ceremony that every Emperor-to-be had to undergo to choose his future Empress.
Even though he knows that it isn't his fault, Ming'er couldn't help but feel like he was stealing something that'd been meant to be for Mingyi away from him.
After all, Ming'er clearly isn't the Crown Prince. He's the Second Prince, for fuck's sake. As if his own name didn't already make it clear and obvious enough.
(A/N: The 'er' in Ming'er means 'two' in Chinese. Yes, the Zhao brothers are named according to the order of their birth: Mingyi ('yi' is 'one' in Chinese), Ming'er ('er' is 'two' in Chinese), Mingsan ('san' is 'three' in Chinese), Mingsi ('si' is 'four' in Chinese), and Mingwu ('wu' is 'five' in Chinese) LOL)
Ming'er had always hated how the Emperor had ripped what rightfully belonged to Mingyi off him just like that, just because of his mysterious illness, something that he couldn't help or didn't ask for.
Ming'er had always hated how his father was so narrow-minded that he believed that Mingyi's mysterious illness meant that he was a weak and incapable person, even though his older brother was clearly more than just a sick and disabled person in a wheelchair.
Heck, Mingyi was one of the strongest people that Ming'er has ever known. Ming'er had always looked up to him and saw him as an inspiration.
Ming'er had always hated how differently everyone in the Imperial Palace started to treat Mingyi ever since he contracted his mysterious illness.
Some of the eunuchs and palace maids handled him as though he was a fragile vase that could shatter at any moment, while some of the others spoke ill of him behind his back, gloating over his misfortune, the way that he'd fallen from grace overnight.
Most of all, however, Ming'er hated the way that Mingyi didn't hate him. As confusing as it sounds, Ming'er didn't get why his older brother didn't hate him. After all, he'd taken everything away from him, albeit having no choice but to do so.
Even after everything that happened, how the privilege that he'd once received had been plucked from him and accorded to Ming'er just like that, Mingyi never despised or got jealous of his younger brother. Instead, he continued to shower his with love and support.
Moreover, becoming the future Emperor had never been part of his plan. Despite the countless of preparatory and etiquette lessons that his father had made him and his brothers take ever since they were young, Ming'er never pictured himself fitting into a role at the Imperial Palace.
Instead, Ming'er saw a future in cultivation. He pictured himself alongside his two best friends, Chen Jun and Ruofei, (and maybe her?), exploring and travelling the world as rogue cultivators, being as free as they could ever be.
Alas, Ming'er knew that this idea of his future that he had in mind was just as good as a pipe dream. After all, he'd been born a prince. There was always going to be royalty running through his veins no matter what.
As much as Ming'er hated the idea of the Choosing, there was nothing he could do about it.
(Besides, there was her...)
After all, he couldn't do anything but to obey his father. And complain to Chen Jun and Ruofei over and over again about just how much he dreaded the day to come, of course, but that was about all that he could do.
Ming'er had been detesting the day so much that he'd pretty much shoved it to the back of his mind. He diverted his attention to his studies at the academy such that he'd completely forgotten about it.
As such, Ming'er was shocked to hear from Mingyi that he'd apparently been at the Choosing the night before.
Ming'er did kind of remember complaining about the Choosing to Chen Jun and Ruofei two days before, but the memory was vague and faint, almost as though it didn't exist.
Probably because Ming'er couldn't stop thinking about the memories of his day in the strange modern world that he'd somehow found himself in.
They seemed to have completely flooded his mind and occupied every single corner of his brain.
"Anyway," Mingsan suddenly says, making Ming'er snap out of his internal rambling. "You came back to the Imperial Palace from Qilin Academy yesterday. You arrived around midday."
"O-Okay," Ming'er nods, stammering slightly as he reminds himself to focus on the present, "Go on."
"The stylist dressed you up for the Choosing," Mingsan continued, "And you headed over to the Main Hall shortly after."
"Uh-huh," Ming'er nods again to show his younger brother that he's listening. "And then?"
"And then," Mingsan continues, "The Choosing began. There were ten contenders in total."
"Who were they?" Ming'er asks even though he doesn't really want to know.
"To be honest, I couldn't remember all of their names," Mingsan admits sheepishly, "There were just too many of them. I must say, though, three of them stood out in particular."
"Who were these three contenders?" Ming'er asks.
"They were," Mingsan replies, "Zheng Yimeng, Hua Maque, and Liu Yuqi..."
Ming'er widens his eyes at this.
Just as he's about to say something, there's a knock on the door.