Chapter 373: If Xiao Shao Travels to When Qi Yan Just Fell into Misfortune 2

Chapter 373: If Xiao Shao Traveled Back to When Qi Yan First Fell into Misfortune (2)

At these words, Qi Yan's face turned ashen.

He clenched one hand into a fist at his side, his nails nearly digging into his palm, yet he forced a compliant smile onto his face. "Whatever Your Highness wishes, this disgraced official shall obey."

Xiao Shao snapped the book shut. "Good, then it's settled."

In their past life, when they were deeply in love, Xiao Shao had once pressed Qi Yan into the bed and pressed him relentlessly, demanding to know when exactly Qi Yan had first begun to harbor romantic feelings for him. Qi Yan, blushing furiously, had shut his eyes and refused to answer. But under Xiao Shao’s merciless pestering, his resolve had crumbled, and in a moment of agitation, he had admitted, "The first time I saw you, I thought you were striking."

Xiao Shao had raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Pleased, he had continued his torment until Qi Yan trembled uncontrollably, finally biting Xiao Shao’s shoulder in frustration and refusing to say another word.

Later, when Xiao Shao reflected on it, their first meeting had been when Xiao Tanhu rode through Chang’an Street.

Now, he thought to himself, since fate had already tied them together in their past life, and since he was still as handsome as ever, Qi Yan surely wouldn’t have any objections. What he needed to focus on now was how to rescue the Qi family.

At this time, Xiao Shao was still an idle prince with no involvement in court politics. But with the experience of two lifetimes as emperor, a plan quickly formed in his mind.

Having seen Xiao Tanhu and confirmed that he was faring decently, Xiao Shao decided to return to his residence and make arrangements.

This was a serious matter—it had to be handled early.

Before leaving, Xiao Shao added, "Don’t worry too much. Leave it to me. Once this matter is resolved, I’ll take you away first. The eunuchs and maids around you, from top to bottom, I’ll have them all handled. You’ll only need to stay there for a couple of days. As for the palace’s rules and etiquette, you won’t have to learn them."

Though Xiao Shao was a prince, Qi Yan had been personally summoned by the emperor’s decree. Xiao Shao could maneuver behind the scenes, but he couldn’t openly defy the order. So, Qi Yan would still have to go through the process of entering the palace.

Qi Yan lowered his eyes respectfully. "...As you command."

Xiao Shao stood to leave, but as he passed Qi Yan, he turned back. "I’ll also arrange for the jailers here to take care of you. You won’t lack for food or clothing. If there’s an emergency, just have the jailer inform me."

Qi Yan bowed his head even lower. "...As you command."

Seeing him like this, Xiao Shao wanted to offer more comfort, but words felt hollow. After a moment of silence, he could only sigh softly. "Take care of yourself."

Then he turned and left.

When he arrived, Xiao Shao had been wearing a crimson cloak, but now he departed in only an embroidered robe. The jailer was taken aback and opened his mouth to speak, but Xiao Shao rested a hand on his shoulder and led him aside.

After asking for the jailer’s name and comparing it to his memories from the previous dynasty, Xiao Shao smiled and listed two of the man’s petty misdeeds—such as accepting bribes. The jailer fell to his knees, trembling, but Xiao Shao dismissed it airily, offering small favors instead. Once the warning was delivered, he finally left.

Though he was an idle prince, Xiao Shao wielded both kindness and authority with masterful precision. In just a few words, the jailer dared not entertain any other thoughts.

After Xiao Shao left, the jailer wiped the cold sweat from his brow and returned to fetch Qi Yan.

Pushing open the door, he saw the man the Second Prince had personally vouched for standing motionless in the room, still clutching the crimson fox-fur cloak loosely, lost in his thoughts.

The jailer knocked politely, his tone far more deferential now. "Young Master Qi, come with me. The food and clothing His Highness ordered will be delivered shortly." Then, with an unctuous grin, he added, "Earlier, I didn’t realize who you were. To think you’ve caught the eye of the Second Prince—what a fortunate man you are."

Qi Yan didn’t respond, only gave a hollow laugh. "A fortunate man... is that so?"

He followed the jailer back to his cell and, true to Xiao Shao’s word, received preferential treatment. Before long, guards arrived carrying boxes of supplies—cotton clothes, two thick quilts—and even replaced the damp, cold straw on the floor with fresh, dry bedding. Then came the food.

The meal included both meat and vegetables, piping hot. Since the Qi family’s downfall, Qi Yan hadn’t eaten anything warm.

The younger children couldn’t restrain themselves and lunged forward, wolfing down the food. Seeing it wasn’t enough, the guards actually brought two more portions. One of them handed Qi Yan an ornately carved box. "Young Master, this was specifically ordered to be given to you."

Qi Yan opened it to find four exquisite pastries, each exquisitely shaped and adorned with gilded osmanthus blossoms at the corners.

It was osmanthus cake from Tongxing Hall.

He stood frozen, silent.

This was the pastry Qi Yan had loved most in his youth. Unfortunately, Tongxing Hall's prices were exorbitant, and the Qi family, being generations of incorruptible officials, were of modest means. Only during festivals could he get a taste. Now, in the cold prison, he was finally eating it again.

Behind him, the children scrambled and devoured the food ravenously. Even his cousins couldn't resist tearing into the steamed buns, huddled around the food containers to gulp them down. Only Qi Yan's parents held back, their faces marked by worry.

Qi Chen stared at the fur-lined cloak in his hands—thick, luxurious, made from the finest tribute pelts from imperial hunting grounds, its cuffs trimmed with pure gold thread with cloud patterns. This single cloak alone was worth more than the entire Qi family's fortune.

Qi Chen asked softly, "A-Yan, who was the noble who called you out?"

Qi Yan had been lost in thought, clutching the cloak. At his father's voice, he snapped back to reality and smiled. "It was... an old classmate. His family has some connections in the prison, so he helped arrange things for me."

Qi Chen only looked at him. "This is a case the Emperor personally intervened in. What classmate could have the influence to pull strings in Cold Prison?" He pointed to the sleeve of the robe Qi Yan held. "That bears the royal auspicious pattern."

"..."

Under his parents' anxious gazes, Qi Yan's stiff posture collapsed inwardly.

His lips trembled, but in the end, he only forced a smile. "Father, please don't ask."

Avoiding his father's eyes, Qi Yan pushed past the others, grabbed a steamed bun from the food, and tore it apart, gulping it down without tasting a thing.

After finishing the bun, he reached for the osmanthus cake. By then, the clothes had been distributed, but there was one less upper garment. So Qi Yan wrapped himself in the cloak and curled up in a corner.

As if by breaking the cake and donning the luxurious robe, something had been stripped from his very being, replaced by something of gilded decay.

Qi Chen gently touched his youngest son's cheek and sighed, offering quiet comfort. "It might not be a disaster. At the very least... you won't go hungry or cold."

Qi Yan nodded. "...Mm."

After that, Xiao Shao visited often.

He came and went in a hurry, seemingly overwhelmingly busy, exchanging only a few words before leaving. At first, Qi Yan remained highly vigilant, tensing up whenever they were alone, fearing the prince might grow impatient and demand intimacy in the prison.

He had heard the rumors and tavern tales—how it was always painful, how it made walking difficult, how it left bruises on the skin. Qi Yan wasn't afraid of pain, but he didn't want to look so broken in front of his parents.

Yet Xiao Shao behaved like a gentleman, and Qi Yan gradually relaxed, his guardedness lessening.

With Xiao Shao's intervention, his parents and siblings never ate cold food again, and the jailer treated them with respect. Qi Yan remembered this kindness.

The only awkwardness was that every time before leaving, the second prince would pat his shoulder and say, "Look after yourself. Don't let yourself get cold or hungry."

—Truthfully, Xiao Shao didn’t want to pat his shoulder. He wanted to cup his face, but feared being too forward and scaring him.

At first, Qi Yan didn’t dare respond. But after a few visits, he mustered the courage to mutter under his breath, "I'm not a child."

As it turned out, Xiao Shao’s concerns were not unfounded.

Despite the thick clothes and quilts, the prison was bitterly cold. As the year drew to a close, Qi Yan fell ill.

A fierce fever struck him—first dizziness and coughing, then escalating to delirium and convulsions. He was on the verge of babbling nonsense.

The Qi couple grew frantic, their lips cracked from fretfulness. Left with no choice, they begged the jailer for help. The moment the jailer saw Qi Yan’s condition, he panicked and immediately sent a courier horse to deliver word to the Second Prince’s estate.

Xiao Shao had been busy navigating court politics, consolidating power and currying favors, barely finding time to rest. But the moment he received the report, he abandoned all duties and rushed to Cold Prison.

He leaped from his carriage and strode toward the prison. From afar, he saw Qi Yan lying on the straw, brows furrowed, cheeks flushed an unnatural red, muttering feverishly in his fever-driven haze—clearly restless even in sleep.

Xiao Shao hesitated briefly at the prison entrance, still dressed in his usual bold princely garb, paired with an exceptionally handsome face—there was no one else quite like him in the entire capital. The moment he appeared, Qi Chen recognized him.

Qi Chen stood and bowed. "Second Prince."

The jailer opened the gate, and Xiao Shao strode inside, dropped to one knee beside Qi Yan. He reached out to touch his forehead, his skin scorching with fever. Too concerned to deal with Qi Chen, he said bluntly, "I'm taking him away."

Qi Chen frowned. "What?"

But Xiao Shao had already lifted Qi Yan by the knees, bundling him in his cloak. "It's too cold here, and there's no medicine. No place to recover."

He strode out of the cell, the jailer locking the gate behind him. Madame Qi, frantic, rushed forward to grip the bars, pleading, "Where are you taking him?"

Without turning back, Xiao Shao replied, "My estate."

By now, Xiao Shao had secretly amassed enough power. Taking someone from prison and keeping them in his residence for a while wasn’t a major issue.

Anxious, he moved swiftly, barely sparing a glance for Qi's parents. Something felt off, but he had no mind to dwell on it.

Carrying Qi Yan all the way back to the carriage, Xiao Shao ensured the wind-blocking curtains were drawn to shield against the cold. Only after settling him comfortably on the cushioned seat did Xiao Shao suddenly realize—

*Wait… those two just now… were they Qi Yan’s parents?*

The Emperor in his previous dynasty had no concept of in-laws.

A pang of guilt hit him, and he considered sending gifts as compensation—but then his attention was drawn back to the man in his arms.

Even with the brazier in the carriage, the winter chill lingered. Seeking warmth, Qi Yan unconsciously pressed closer for warmth in his sleep, only calming when Xiao Shao pulled him close. His cheek brushed Xiao Shao’s warm palm.

Xiao Shao glanced down, noticing his furrowed brow. With gentle pressure, he pressed a fingertip between his brows, smoothing out the tension.

The slight movement roused Qi Yan. Blinking groggily, his vision cleared not on prison walls but on the Second Prince’s exceptionally handsome features.

The carriage rolled steadily onward. Startled and fearful, Qi Yan tried to push himself up against the wall, but his limbs were weak. He barely lifted himself before collapsing back, voice hoarse as he rasped, "Where… am I going?"

Noticing his struggle, Xiao Shao softened his expression, stroking his hair soothingly. "It's alright now. We’re heading back to the prince’s residence."

The residence was Xiao Shao’s domain—there, Qi Yan would be completely safe.

"Back… to the residence?"

Qi Yan repeated faintly, staring at Xiao Shao. In his dazed eyes, a hint of sorrow surfaced.