Chapter 0085 – Here I Come

Chapter 0085 - Here I Come

It was the second hour of the morning, with clear skies and not a cloud in sight. The weather seemed to be cooperating perfectly, as if even the heavens wanted to prolong this awkward moment.

Xiao Rong had no idea what Qu Yunmie and the others had encountered. He was still reading the letter that had been delivered to him this morning.

Today's letter felt off from the start—it was thicker than usual and weighed more. Xiao Rong’s expression turned serious, and he couldn’t wait to get back to his desk. Standing by the door, he quickly tore open the letter and saw the opening line: "Ah Rong, seeing these words is like seeing you." Xiao Rong instantly felt a jolt run through him.

To be fair, compared to "Rong'er," the nickname "Ah Rong" was quite normal. Even if a complete stranger used it, he wouldn't have much of a reaction.

But for some reason, seeing Qu Yunmie use it made Xiao Rong feel so awkward that he almost dug a basement in his room with his toes.

Trying to ignore the intense discomfort, he continued reading. But before he could read much, he heard an acidic voice behind him: "Oh~ Ah Rong, seeing these words is like seeing you~"

Xiao Rong: "..."

Even if he couldn’t recognize Song Shuo’s voice, he could identify Song Shuo’s signature wavy lines.

With a swift motion, he folded the letter and turned around irritably. "Did you regret not taking those military beatings when I offered them?"

Song Shuo pouted. "If you didn’t want me to see it, don’t stand by the door reading your letter. You were so eager you couldn’t even wait to sit down. I mean, you and the King are way too clingy, aren’t you?"

Xiao Rong froze, then his face darkened. "Say that again?!"

Seeing Xiao Rong’s genuine anger, Song Shuo couldn’t help but shrink back. Despite being scared, he still spoke up. "It’s true. When a lord and minister get this close, it’s dangerous!"

He walked over to Xiao Rong and lowered his voice. "No matter what, he is still the King. You can be close to him, but not this close. Before becoming your friend, he is the one you serve. Don’t forget that, and don’t blur that line. Xiao Rong, you’re a smart man. You should realize that the only person in this palace who can truly be your friend is me."

Xiao Rong: "…………"

If Song Shuo hadn’t said the last part so seriously, Xiao Rong might have believed he genuinely cared.

Xiao Rong’s mood soured instantly. He waved away Song Shuo’s restless hand and returned to his seat. After a moment of hesitation, he put the letter away, deciding to read it after Song Shuo left.

Earlier, he had only read a few sentences, which were all about taking care of his health. Qu Yunmie was a practical person; he never beat around the bush, always putting the most important things first and following them in order of importance.

So there shouldn’t be any urgent information in the letter, and it was fine to read it later.

Seeing Xiao Rong’s reaction, Song Shuo became even more displeased. Just a few words, and Xiao Rong was already embarrassed. In this palace, Xiao Rong was usually very open. Whether it was city secrets or his plans, if Song Shuo wanted to see them, Xiao Rong never stopped him. Exceptions only happened when it involved the King.

Song Shuo, with his small head full of big questions, had seen the letter earlier. It was just a concern for Xiao Rong’s health—a normal greeting. Why would Xiao Rong feel embarrassed?

But he knew that Xiao Rong wouldn’t indulge him in everything. In situations like this, even if he rolled on the ground, Xiao Rong wouldn’t pay attention. Though he didn’t know why, his intuition told him so.

Feeling equally dispirited, he clicked his tongue. It was still early, and Song Shuo was a night owl. He only came alive after noon. Even if he woke up in the morning, he didn’t want to do anything serious.

Dragging a chair next to Xiao Rong, despite the ample space, Song Shuo insisted on sitting close. "Where’s Xiao Yi?"

Xiao Rong endured it and replied, "Visiting his teacher."

After the anthology of a thousand scholars, Xiao Yi had gained fame. When Yu Shaoxie wasn’t around, Xiao Yi often attended the scholarly gatherings and discussions. Although Xiao Yi wasn’t related to Xiao Rong by blood, they were more alike than real brothers. Xiao Yi had a competitive spirit, and not all scholars were willing to concede to a fourteen-year-old. Some even criticized him harshly, calling him a pretentious pillow, tearing apart his articles.

After three sleepless nights, Xiao Yi developed dark circles but also a fierce determination. Without needing Xiao Rong’s intervention, he sought out the literary giants himself. Now, he had three teachers, visiting one daily and the other two every few days.

And he still wanted more teachers.

In feudal times, the order of heaven, earth, ruler, parents, and teachers remained unchanged. Fortunately, the people of the Yong Dynasty were open-minded. Teachers didn’t hold onto students tightly; everyone had an open relationship, allowing students to seek multiple mentors.

This had its pros and cons. Teachers wouldn’t focus too much on individual students, nor treat them like their own children. After learning, students had to fend for themselves if they wanted a future.

But this didn’t apply to Xiao Yi. His brother was Xiao Rong, giving him an advantage over all other children.

Song Shuo didn’t think he was exaggerating. Think about it—the King had no male heirs, Prime Minister Gao was alone, and the Xiao family was small. Even if Xiao Yi were useless, he’d still rise to a high position. And he wasn’t useless.

Song Shuo firmly believed Qu Yunmie would ascend to the throne and that he would stand shoulder to shoulder with Xiao Rong. No one had seen his talents yet, but they would eventually.

These thoughts flashed through Song Shuo’s mind. When he snapped back to reality, he asked Xiao Rong, "How’s Old Lady Chen? With Xiao Yi so busy, she hasn’t caused trouble, has she?"

Xiao Rong looked at him expressionlessly. "When it comes to causing trouble, no one can match you."

Song Shuo blinked, then proudly raised his head. "I know, no one can match me. How’s Old Lady Chen doing lately?"

Xiao Rong: "……"

He sighed, rubbed his temples, and said, "She’s doing well. With fewer staff, Huichuntang now opens every other day. Danran has more free time and often visits my grandmother. They chat a lot, and my grandmother reciprocates by frequently visiting the back courtyard. They’re all women, so no one stops her."

Xiao Rong was puzzled. Old Lady Chen could be quite troublesome, yet none of the women in the back courtyard complained.

He wasn’t worried about Danran and Agusega. Danran was a chatterbox and Agusega had a strong personality. As for Sang Yan...

Shaking his head, Xiao Rong decided not to worry. If no one had complained, there must be no issues.

Contrary to Xiao Rong’s thoughts, Old Lady Chen’s frequent visits to the back courtyard weren’t for Danran but for Sang Yan.

Perhaps because Sang Yan reminded her of her late daughter-in-law, Old Lady Chen embraced her tightly, crying over her white hair.

Crying, she said, "Chunniang, you look older than me now!"

Sang Yan: "…………"

Beauty fears aging, and although Sang Yan no longer cared about her appearance, she hadn’t looked in a mirror for ten years, subconsciously avoiding her current state.

Others respected her wishes, never mentioning it. But an oblivious old lady had blurted it out.

Old Lady Chen was surprisingly strong, leaving everyone wondering how a noblewoman could grow so robust.

After much persuasion, Old Lady Chen finally released Sang Yan. Sang Yan retreated to her room, locking the door tightly. If Xiao Rong had seen this, he would have apologized profusely. But Agusega thought Sang Yan’s reaction was reasonable.

Ever since losing her husband, Sang Yan's quirks have grown more numerous. One of them is her unwillingness to have any physical contact with anyone. If she were held by a stranger, Sang Yan would have attacked long ago. This isn't Agusega's conjecture; it's based on the fact that she once pulled out a hairpin from her head and almost stabbed someone's throat with it.

Looking at the bewildered Chen, Agusega began to understand why Sang Yan hadn't attacked her.

Who could be wary of a plump, kind, and gentle old lady? In the words of the people from Central Plains, this old lady looks particularly auspicious and somewhat resembles the faded image of a mother in everyone's memory.

From that day onward, Agusega encouraged Danran to befriend Old Lady Xiao. If she was willing, bringing her over would also be fine.

Agusega's intention was to use Chen as a medium to reduce Sang Yan's distrust of the people from Central Plains. However, so far, it has been ineffective because as soon as Sang Yan hears Chen's voice, she retreats back into her room. When Chen can't find her, she gradually forgets about her. Watching Chen's forgetful nature, Agusega suddenly felt a bit itchy. ...

Agusega moved into the palace partly for Xiao Rong, but Xiao Rong was slippery like an eel. As long as he was awake, Agusega couldn't touch him, and he always had legitimate reasons that no one could refuse, leaving Agusega feeling frustrated.

Xiao Rong didn't know that Agusega, unable to catch him, was already contemplating taking action against his gentle yet terrifying grandmother. Seeing Song Shuo's relaxed demeanor, he also thought of Agusega.

Suddenly, he changed his previous impatience and gave Song Shuo a soft smile: "Qian Zheng."

Song Shuo: "..."

A chill ran down his spine, and he became alert: "Only my grandmother can call me that. You're not allowed to call me that."

Xiao Rong chuckled inwardly, knowing that one day Song Shuo would allow everyone to call him that, even stamping official documents with the seal "Song Qian Zheng."

If you'll be so generous in the future, why are you being so stingy now? Xiao Rong ignored this and deliberately called him again: "Qian Zheng."

Song Shuo: "........"

Realizing that Xiao Rong wouldn't let him off, he said with a stern face: "Speak if you have something to say."

Xiao Rong smiled again: "You said your grandmother gave you such a nickname because she was very worried about your health. Being born weak is an age-old problem. As you grow older, the illness accumulates in your body, and even worse, it might accumulate in your brain. One day, boom!"

While speaking, he spread his fingers, mimicking an explosion, as if imagining a delightful scene. After savoring it for a moment, he looked at Song Shuo with concern: "Breaking out of your body, exploding and dying—these are things I don't want to see."

Song Shuo: "..."

He looked at Xiao Rong expressionlessly: "Put your smirk away before you speak."

Xiao Rong: "..."

Feeling his unconsciously raised corner of his mouth, he coughed lightly and continued unperturbed: "But I'm serious. You're someone I brought out of Jinling with great difficulty. If you can't serve The King for more than forty years, I'd feel cheated."

Historically, Song Qian Zheng died at sixty-six. Working for another forty years would make Song Shuo around sixty. Even if his fate cannot be changed and he dies at sixty-six, he still has six years left to enjoy life. Xiao Rong felt he was being quite benevolent.

Song Shuo stared at Xiao Rong in disbelief. Honestly, he never expected to live past forty, and now Xiao Rong wanted him to work for forty years?!

Song Shuo stuttered: "A-are you human?"

Xiao Rong was puzzled. He had given Song Shuo time to retire, so why wasn't he considered human?

Pausing for a moment, Xiao Rong decided not to argue and got to the point: "Now that Chief Agusega is staying in the palace, she's recently become very interested in difficult medical cases. You should go—"

Song Shuo: "I won't go."

Xiao Rong blinked: "But this is a rare opportunity. I can introduce you—"

Song Shuo: "I don't want to."

Xiao Rong: "..."

Seeing Song Shuo's firm stance, Xiao Rong's face fell: "Is caring for you wrong? Asking you to serve for forty years scared you, but you need to live for forty more years first. Do you think everyone can get treated by the Chief of the Butu Clan? Brat, you're ungrateful."

Song Shuo widened his eyes: "Why don't you go then? Is the chief interested in difficult cases because of me? I don't have any complicated illnesses; it's just a congenital weakness!"

"..."

For the first time, he heard someone state their illness so confidently.

Xiao Rong: "I'm different from you."

Song Shuo: "How are we different? Your pretentious explanations won't fool me. You clearly don't want doctors to treat you, so you made up this excuse to placate Chancellor Gao. Before persuading me, persuade yourself first. I've never seen someone so reckless with their life!"

Xiao Rong: "..."

People's joys and sorrows truly do not align.

Was he being reckless? No, he was being too cautious!

Unable to explain, Xiao Rong remained silent. But Song Shuo wasn't the type to back down when he had a point.

Standing up abruptly, he continued his tirade: "You fainted during the day and stayed up late with that monk at night. Your complexion hasn't been good these days, but have you been idle? Every day, you find something to do. Chancellor Gao and I try our best to share your burden, but you keep piling more tasks on yourself. I don't understand why you're the only one who works tirelessly, even though others can handle the situation well. Sometimes I wonder if you really have some magical power to ensure you won't die no matter what you do. But Xiao Rong, we are both mortal beings. If you continue living this way, depleting your lifespan, sooner or later, even gods descending won't save you!"

Xiao Rong couldn't help but look at Song Shuo.

Though still a simpleton, his keen insight into human nature always surprised Xiao Rong. If he continues evolving, everyone will be transparent to him.

Xiao Rong thought for a moment, about to say something to Song Shuo, when a hesitant voice came from outside the door.

"Um..."

Zhao Xingzong had just entered and heard Song Shuo's rant against Xiao Rong. But he was already at the door, neither able to leave nor stay.

Moreover, he couldn't bear staying with the Buddhist monk anymore. He had gathered the courage to come to Xiao Rong, and if he left now, he might not dare to come for a long time.

But he really didn't want to listen to more Buddhist scriptures!...

Seeing Zhao Xingzong, Xiao Rong immediately adjusted his expression, still wary of him.

Song Shuo wasn't familiar with Zhao Xingzong, and their conversation was interrupted. He slumped back, not even bothering to give Zhao Xingzong a glance.

Zhao Xingzong didn't mind. All his attention was on Xiao Rong. After Xiao Rong asked what he needed, Zhao Xingzong took a deep breath and stated his request.

In short, he wanted to switch jobs.

Xiao Rong: "…"

The Buddhist disciple had been going out a lot recently and spending most of his time with other members of the Buddhist sect. Actually, the Buddhist disciple didn't need any help, and Zhao Xingzong had come to serve the Northern Pacification King. Having him follow the Buddhist disciple all the time was inappropriate.

Xiao Rong needed to keep an eye on him without exposing him to the secrets of the prince's residence. After some consideration, Xiao Rong pointed at Song Shuo beside him: "From now on, you'll be with Master Song."

Zhao Xingzong: "…"

Still just a lackey.

But Song Shuo dealt with more important matters than the Buddhist disciple did. Overall, Xiao Rong had arranged a better position for him. Zhao Xingzong clenched his fists secretly; this time, he would work even harder to gain independence.

Suddenly given an assistant, Song Shuo lounged in his chair. He glanced at Xiao Rong's expression and then nonchalantly said "Oh." Turning to Zhao Xingzong, he said, "Wait in my courtyard. Don’t touch any papers on the ground; they’re all useful."

Zhao Xingzong: "…………"

The Buddhist disciple’s quarters were spotless, and entering them made one feel guilty. It seemed that Master Song was the complete opposite.

Zhao Xingzong silently left. Once he was far away, Song Shuo sat up straight, squinting. "Are you wary of him?"

Otherwise, why assign him two superiors? Xiao Rong usually trusted everyone who entered the prince's residence to handle their own affairs.

Xiao Rong smiled faintly. "I know there's something wrong with him, but I don't know what it is. Assigning him to the Buddhist disciple was meant to suppress and watch him, to prevent any trouble. But he's not an object; eventually, he'd resent such treatment. Blockage is worse than guidance. Now, he's your responsibility."

Pausing briefly, Xiao Rong's expression turned serious. "Don’t alarm him. Find out what’s wrong with him. Song Shuo, Chenliu cannot have any problems."

Song Shuo’s back straightened. He knew Xiao Rong was serious, so he looked out the window. Zhao Xingzong was already gone. Turning slightly towards Xiao Rong, Song Shuo nodded calmly.

A moment later, Song Shuo also left. Finally alone, Xiao Rong whistled happily, taking out the unfinished letter he had been reading. He thought to himself that Zhao Xingzong, whom he couldn’t figure out, would keep Song Shuo busy for at least half a month. For the next half month, his ears would finally be at peace.

Xiao Rong’s ears were indeed peaceful, but Zhao Xingzong’s were not. On the first day, he already missed the quiet Buddhist disciple.

Goodness… Song Shuo seemed incapable of shutting up, and his topics jumped around so much that Zhao Xingzong often couldn’t keep up. Even worse, Song Shuo would suddenly set traps when Zhao Xingzong was already confused.

"Who is more capable, me or the Buddhist disciple?"

"As my subordinate, do you prefer the Buddhist disciple or me?"

"Do you think the Buddhist disciple has any weaknesses?"

Zhao Xingzong: "…………"

By the end of the day, Zhao Xingzong returned home like a lost soul.

It was already curfew. The house he bought was near the prince's residence, not Treasure Street, and the streets were mostly empty. Upon entering his home, the first thing Zhao Xingzong wanted to do was sleep until he forgot everything.

But his newly hired book boy ran over, saying someone had visited him today, both in the morning and evening, but since he wasn’t there, the visitor had left.

Zhao Xingzong asked, puzzled, "What’s his name?"

The book boy shook his head, embarrassed. "I don’t know, Master. I asked him, but he said you’d recognize him immediately if you saw him. Then he left."

The book boy feared Zhao Xingzong might blame him, but Zhao Xingzong was only confused. Who could be so mysterious as to not leave a name?

He was also somewhat irritated. He was no longer the leisurely Zhao Xingzong of yesteryears; he had become the bustling Zhao Xingzong, so occupied that he scarcely had a moment to dine. Just before he fell onto his pillow, exhausted, he instructed his book attendant, "Should that individual return, direct him to the princely mansion. I am eager to discover who dares to be so ostentatiously pretentious."

And let this old acquaintance see how well he was doing, getting closer to reviving his clan!

However, Zhao Xingzong didn’t know that the person wouldn’t appear again.

He managed to evade the Northern Pacification Army’s search because he was incredibly cautious. Visiting as an old friend could only be done once or twice; any more would raise suspicion.

Disappointed that he hadn’t met Zhao Xingzong, he still felt relieved. Turning away, he leisurely walked back to his inn. Many scholars remained in the inn, mostly interested in playing more or reading books from the library.

Blending in with these people, he had his own daily tasks, fitting in perfectly.

But this life couldn’t continue indefinitely. Many people had already checked out and returned home, and his plan was to leave soon.

Saying goodbye to the innkeeper and the scholars he had met, he went upstairs, took a bath, and ordered dinner. After eating slowly, he took out the secret letter he had received that morning and read it carefully.

He sat by the open window of his room, as this was how others perceived him: a generous, polite scholar who was pleasant to be around.

He never hid anything, even when he was in a tight spot. Instead of pretending, he told the truth, unlike others who put on a show.

Because of his openness, no one suspected him or acted rudely towards him. Thus, no one knew that the letter he held was not a family missive but a secret message written by Chen Jiancheng.

It detailed Zhou Liang’s plans, Chen Jiancheng’s distrust of Zhou Liang, and his complaints about Li Xiuheng and others. In the end, it urged him to return quickly, warning against dangerous activities outside. Chen Jiancheng wrote affectionately that he knew he had been working tirelessly for their cause, but without him, what was the point of achieving it? So, he should return soon.

Smiling lightly, he put the letter away. At that moment, someone downstairs returned to the inn and, seeing a familiar face, waved excitedly. "Han Qing! You’re here too. Come down and have a drink with us!"

The scholar upstairs shifted his gaze, seeing the enthusiastic face below. He smiled again. "Sure, I’ll be right down."