Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The soft touch of a small hand on his bony one sent a tremor through his heart—a completely unprecedented experience for Zhou Yunning.

He couldn't pinpoint when it started, but it seemed that every time Gao Zhen touched him, the scent of peonies would coil around him like a whip, threatening to overwhelm his senses.

The floral fragrance raged through Zhou Yunning's nostrils and chest. Dazed, he thought, "If you claim to be Tutor Geer, then I—"

"Stop!"

Calming Incantation, fivefold.

Zhou Yunning closed his eyes, almost succumbing to the intoxicating aroma.

How could he possibly lose to this floral scent?!

He swiftly withdrew his hand from Gao Zhen's soft palm and turned to step outside.

It was too hot in this room, even with only one piece of firewood burning. Truly.

“Your Highness—”

Gao Zhen stared blankly at the Ninth Prince's 'resolute' retreating figure as the affection points in his mind suddenly erupted like a volcano—

+1+1+1…

+1+1+1+1…

+1+1+1+1+1…

……

Could it be that Ninth Prince is avoiding me not because he dislikes me, but because he’s shy?

No way!

Gao Zhen shook his head vigorously.

But we've only touched hands—it's not like we haven't before. Why didn't he react like this then? Why is he acting so strangely today?

In Gao Zhen’s memory, Ninth Prince wasn’t someone who would get shy from a mere touch. He recalled Ninth Prince as more casual and straightforward. But now, Ninth Prince had changed. He appeared cold on the surface, but his inner world was completely different.

Gao Zhen was curious—what caused this transformation?

He pondered the matter repeatedly but couldn't find an answer.

Gao Zhen sighed. Rather than getting lost in wild guesses alone, it would be better to find an opportunity to ask directly. Actually, even without asking, all these affection points were proof enough of how much Ninth Prince liked him.

It’s fine. If His Highness doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t force him. As long as I'm in his heart, I’ll just stay by his side. Gao Zhen silently reassured himself.

Still, if he got the chance, he would have to visit the south wall of the imperial kitchen again. Ninth Prince had gone there alone and returned changed—something there must have affected him.

Soon after, the gentle sound of sloshing water echoed in the courtyard. Gao Zhen knew Ninth Prince was washing the quilts.

He also focused on his own work.

The reason he knew how to stir-fry moldy rice was because he’d done similar work during a brief stint at a chicken farm before transmigrating. Even after stir-frying and sun-drying, this rice would still need to be cooked before it could be fed to the chickens. He estimated it should feed ten chickens for two months.

Gao Zhen wasn’t worried about what to feed them afterward. Spring would bring plenty of wild plants and weeds, and the cold palace had many empty courtyards—plenty to forage from for a while. Of course, in the cold palace, where many went hungry with only one meal a day, it was inevitable that people would also gather wild plants to eat in spring. But that was fine—the large food box rewarded by the system contained all sorts of seeds, and this empty courtyard was over an acre in size. Planting just a little would provide enough to eat.

Gao Zhen was naturally efficient, and eager to finish quickly to help Ninth Prince, he soon had the rice stir-fried and spread evenly on his robe. The firewood wasn't completely burned, so Gao Zhen grabbed a handful of soil to smother the flames. The cooled charcoal could be saved for winter. There was no other way—surviving in this neglected corner of the cold palace meant planning ahead; otherwise, they’d only end up cold and hungry.

The door to the east room hung crookedly open. Gao Zhen walked straight out.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a soft, quiet light over the courtyard. Ninth Prince was pulling the quilts, now looking somewhat cleaner, out of the large wooden tub. Seeing this, Gao Zhen hurried over to help.

“Your Highness,” Gao Zhen said as he lifted half a quilt from the water. “It’s easier to wring them dry with two people.”

“Finished stir-frying the rice?”

“Yeah.”

Gao Zhen secretly observed Ninth Prince but couldn’t discern his thoughts from his expression. However, he noticed some of Ninth Prince's usual gentleness had returned to his eyes and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Next, Gao Zhen explained his plan to use the rice for feeding chickens and asked, “Your Highness, how many eggs do you plan to hatch this first time?”

“Ten,” Ninth Prince said. “That rice should be just enough for two months. Besides, not all might hatch anyway, right?”

Gao Zhen replied, “If we do it correctly, it should be fine. The most important things are maintaining the right temperature and humidity and turning them regularly. But these quilts will take several days to dry completely. By then, the weather will be warmer, so we'll have better chances of success.”

As it turned out, Ninth Prince was truly adept at grasping key points. After hearing Gao Zhen out, he thought for a moment and said, “To maintain a constant temperature, we can use charcoal to keep them warm. For twenty days, we can afford to use our charcoal supply.”

“What if we use the kitchen in our courtyard?” Gao Zhen suggested. “We’ll be cooking there anyway. We should save what charcoal we can—we worked hard to gather it.”

But Ninth Prince shook his head. “Ling Bing doesn’t know I can pick locks. As far as he’s concerned, the east room in that courtyard should be locked, and the west room should be piled with clutter. We can’t keep them there. We’ll keep them here, in the east room. I’ll clean it out later.”

“Let me handle the clearing, Your Highness.”

“Finish washing these quilts, then go back to sleep. I need to make another trip to the Golden Wheel later.”

Gao Zhen couldn’t argue with Ninth Prince. He could only work as efficiently as possible to help wash the quilts.

By the time the two of them finished washing the quilts, night had grown deep.

Ninth Prince could tell Gao Zhen didn’t want to leave, so he simply took him by the waist, lifted him up, and placed him on the ladder. Gao Zhen’s face flushed bright red, and he scrambled back quickly as if escaping.

As soon as Gao Zhen left, the thick scent of peonies in the air gradually faded.

Ninth Prince finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Wrapped in the tranquility of the night, he stood quietly for a long moment before quickly walking over to the clothesline stretched between two trees. He spread out each quilt that had been haphazardly draped over the line.

With the only rope used for drying quilts and the ladder leaning against the east wall, Zhou Yunning didn’t use or take anything else. He went to the base of the west wall, took a quick breath, and leaped over the wall.

He remembered seeing a stack of paper earlier—if it was usable, it would be perfect for patching the windows. Unfortunately, the paper had been soaked by the rain a few days prior; it turned to pulp at the touch and was completely unusable. Zhou Yunning had to settle for the next best thing and found several curtains. The trouble was, these were also filthy and would need washing before they could be used.

After washing the curtains, he moved the firewood he’d gathered that day into the east room. Even without doors or windows, it could at least keep out the rain…

It wasn’t until the dead of night that Zhou Yunning shouldered the bundle of fruitwood and returned to his own courtyard. He retrieved all the ladders and temporarily hid them in the west room, locking the door. He also stored the firewood in the east room and locked that door as well. Only then did he slowly walk to the north room’s door.

The moon above had long since shifted westward.

The room was silent.

Zhou Yunning took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.