Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Upon hearing the knock, Gao Zhen swiftly moved to the western wall, grabbed the long stick from the ground, and vigorously prodded the gable of the eastern room in the western courtyard. This time, the Ninth Prince returned with remarkable speed—the entire process took no more than twenty seconds—indicating he, too, had been closely monitoring the situation.

The moment the Ninth Prince landed, he pulled Gao Zhen into a tight embrace, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze—as if to calm him and silently affirm that with him present, there was no cause for panic.

Gao Zhen dropped the stick, drew a deep breath, and the earlier wave of panic gradually receded under the Ninth Prince’s quiet reassurance. He reached out and gently grasped the Ninth Prince’s sleeve, as though, with this person beside him, nothing could possibly go wrong.

The Ninth Prince glanced at Gao Zhen, his gaze settling on the small hand clutching his sleeve. Without warning, he reached out and covered it with his own, enveloping it fully within his palm.

Gao Zhen froze momentarily, his eyes dropping instinctively to their interlocked hands. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

But the Ninth Prince was already tugging him forward by the hand, heading toward the door.

Gao Zhen suddenly felt uneasy. Uncertain whether the Ninth Prince had noticed, he turned back and said, “A Zhen—you must honor your promise.”

“?”

“What? Have you already forgotten?”

Following his gaze, the Ninth Prince feigned hurt and said, “Yesterday, someone swore to stay with me no matter what. Was that merely to please me?”

As he said “stay with me,” he gently shook their clasped hands—perhaps offering a rationalization for the gesture, or perhaps easing Gao Zhen’s discomfort.

Gao Zhen’s pulse indeed steadied; his nervousness faded. Yet he couldn’t help wondering: *Had the Ninth Prince taken his hand solely to fulfill yesterday’s vow?*

For a moment, Gao Zhen stared at their joined hands, inexplicably growing more awkward—until, finally, he even furrowed his brows slightly.

The Ninth Prince had been watching him all along—and was genuinely surprised by this reaction. He couldn’t fathom why Gao Zhen seemed displeased.

“Are you angry?”

The outer door was being pounded loudly, but the Ninth Prince paid it no heed. He halted mid-step, focusing entirely on Gao Zhen, waiting for an answer.

Gao Zhen bristled at the knocking. Impatiently, he shook his head, withdrew his hand, tucked it into his sleeve, and curled it tightly into a fist.

The Ninth Prince wanted to ask more—but Gao Zhen had already lowered his head and walked toward the door.

“Is anyone there?!” The voice outside carried unmistakable impatience.

Gao Zhen glanced back at the courtyard. Yesterday, prompted by the Ninth Prince, he had tidied everything first thing in the morning.

Now, the eastern room was securely locked; the ladders were stored away in the western courtyard; and the half-bucket of mud brought back the previous night had been disposed of. Every detail had been meticulously arranged—flawless, no matter who came to inspect.

Satisfied all was in order, he replied, “Coming.”

Yet just as he raised his hand to open the door, the Ninth Prince pulled him aside and pushed him behind himself.

The Ninth Prince opened the door to reveal a line of eunuchs of varying ranks standing outside.

“Zhao Pu pays his respects to Your Highness.”

The lead eunuch had a square face, stood shorter than Ling Bing, and possessed small, sharp eyes. His bow to the Ninth Prince was perfunctory—and unsettling.

This was Zhao Pu.

Because of his short stature, he had to tilt his head back to address the Ninth Prince. Though he wore a smile, it only amplified his air of arrogance. Without delay, he declared, “The Empress Dowager is deeply concerned for Your Highness and has specially dispatched us to deliver this meal. Your Highness, please do not delay—partake while it is still warm.”

The Ninth Prince remained motionless at the threshold.

Zhao Pu was taken aback—but in the next instant, rather than seeking the Ninth Prince’s permission, he pivoted and shouted at the eunuchs behind him: “What are you all standing around for? Do you expect His Highness to invite you in? Hurry up and serve! Should you delay Her Majesty’s urgent matter, consider your heads well.”

At his command, the line of eunuchs carrying food boxes, utensils, tables, chairs, and stools surged forward. Their movements were rough and careless—nearly knocking Gao Zhen off balance—yet the Ninth Prince swiftly steadied him, slipping an arm around his waist to hold him firm.

It seemed Zhao Pu had only just noticed Gao Zhen. His eyes lit up instantly.

He clicked his tongue twice, scrutinizing Gao Zhen from head to toe, then remarked, “Well, well—so this is the Gao family’s scion? What extraordinary beauty. Ninth Prince, you are truly fortunate.”

The Ninth Prince subtly stepped half a pace forward, shielding Gao Zhen completely behind him.

Zhao Pu, however, remained undeterred. His gaze shifted back to Gao Zhen, locking onto him unblinkingly—as if he hadn’t laid eyes on a human being in ages. As he gazed, he silently admired: this Gao scion was strikingly handsome—even among the palace’s countless beauties, his appearance would remain unmatched.

What a pity…

His gaze finally lifted from Gao Zhen and settled upon the Ninth Prince’s face. Staring at the pitted, scarred complexion, the coarse, calloused hands, and the ill-proportioned frame, he shook his head with pity.

Inwardly, he sighed—thinking the prince had been utterly ruined.

Lost in thought, Zhao Pu failed to notice the voice that cut through his reverie: “It’s dark inside. Set it up in the courtyard.”

It was the Ninth Prince—who had already stepped past him to reprimand the eunuchs preparing to enter the northern room.

“This might not be—”

“Hmm?”

The Ninth Prince’s gaze was calm, yet coldly fixed on Zhao Pu.

Zhao Pu flinched. For a fleeting moment, the Ninth Prince’s eyes seemed razor-sharp—like the edge of a blade. Vaguely, he imagined the late emperor staring back at him, sending an involuntary chill down his spine. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead before he even realized it. By the time he regained his composure, he had already obeyed the Ninth Prince’s instruction—and the eunuchs were busily arranging tables, chairs, and serving dishes in the courtyard.

Zhao Pu shivered reflexively, inwardly alarmed. No matter how impoverished Zhou Yunning might be, he remained imperial blood. He shouldn’t have treated him like an ordinary fallen noble. After all, he was the late emperor’s descendant—even trampled into dust, he was not to be underestimated.

Secretly frightened, Zhao Pu quietly wiped his sweat. Then it struck him—and he felt profoundly humiliated. Having served in the palace for decades, he was, after all, the chief eunuch of Yongshou Palace. He had even played a pivotal role in the political machinations between the Empress Dowager and Consort Ning. Back then, the Ninth Prince had been nothing more than a whining child. How, in just a few years, had he developed such an imposing aura?

Yet if he possessed such presence, how could he have been deceived by that beast, Ling Bing?

Unless…

He was doing it on purpose?

Lying low—to avoid drawing attention?

For a moment, Zhao Pu found the Ninth Prince inscrutable—profound, unfathomable, utterly beyond his comprehension.

He hurriedly rubbed his eyes and looked again—but the Ninth Prince had already reverted to his usual aloof demeanor.

Zhao Pu grew even more uncertain—now suspecting the prince had some ulterior motive for refusing them entry into the northern room. He strode alone to the door, pushed it open, and peered inside.

The northern room contained so few items that everything was visible at a glance: a wardrobe, a set of table and chairs, a bed, a quilt, and a pillow.

Since there was nothing there—why not let them in?

Zhao Pu was even more perplexed.

After much deliberation, he concluded the prince simply recalled the childhood palace rule: “meals and sleep must be separate”—meaning sleeping quarters should never double as dining spaces.

It never occurred to him that the Ninth Prince simply did not wish these eunuchs entering the room where he and Gao Zhen slept.

Convinced he had cleverly deduced the prince’s reasoning, Zhao Pu closed the door and said to the Ninth Prince, “Your Highness, today we are here both to deliver the meal and to formally inform you: the Empress Dowager has entrusted the management of the Cold Palace to me. Should Your Highness have any needs in the future, you may speak directly to me—I will certainly not shortchange Your Highness’s allowances, as Ling Yuehe once did.”

The Ninth Prince remained noncommittal.

He knew perfectly well that Zhao Pu's words were merely meant to ease his worries, lower his guard, and ultimately achieve their goal. Ten years ago, the Empress Dowager and Consort Ning were at odds—there was no reason for the Empress Dowager’s right-hand man to speak kindly to Consort Ning’s son a decade later.

The Ninth Prince’s gaze fell upon the table full of dishes, and he understood: Zhao Pu’s words were most likely just a ploy to coax him into eating. This only strengthened his conviction that the food had been tampered with. Recalling what the imperial physician preparing the healing cuisine had said recently when he fetched the fruitwood, the Ninth Prince looked at the spread before him and found it gave him more anxiety than outright poison.

This food could not be eaten.

But if he didn’t eat, how could he get these people to leave?

The Ninth Prince’s eyes gradually turned cold.

Yesterday, the Cold Palace had new management. On his first day in charge, Zhao Pu’s first act was to put Ling Bing on the spot. Over the past few years, Ling Bing had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, not only embezzling the food and clothing allowances of the princes and consorts but also skimming off the medicinal food specially prepared for the Ninth Prince by the Imperial Hospital. It was crucial to note that this medicinal food was vital for the royal lineage and extremely time-consuming to prepare. Just one small dish required a physician to simmer it nonstop for seven or eight hours every day. Such hard-earned nourishment had been wasted by Ling Bing. Not only was the Empress Dowager furious upon hearing this, but even the Emperor’s expression darkened.

Thus, yesterday, the Empress Dowager, in her wrath, ordered the execution of Ling Bing and all the eunuchs previously in charge of the Cold Palace’s meals. The Emperor remained silent, and Ling Yuehe, too, could only bow repeatedly without daring to plead for mercy.

The once arrogant and haughty Eunuch Ling died just like that—with a single word from the Empress Dowager. Many sighed at how swiftly Ling Bing, who had once arrogantly snatched imperial meals from the Ninth Prince, was erased from existence. In just one day, his name was no longer mentioned in the palace.

This incident severely intimidated Ling Yuehe’s faction. Currently, the Empress Dowager’s influence dominated the entire inner court, but everyone kept silent about it, as no one could be sure how long this situation would last.

Now, with the empress’s position vacant, the Empress Dowager held great power while the Emperor’s influence waned—a situation that made no sense.

...

Truly, this was healing cuisine meticulously prepared by the Imperial Hospital. As soon as it was laid out, its aroma filled the small courtyard, instantly making everyone's mouths water. The dishes were clearly made with great effort, each exquisitely presented. Even the rice had been simmered in broth, making it look delicious and undoubtedly delicious.

As the food was set on the table, a young eunuch couldn’t help but swallow hungrily.

Food and desire are human nature.

Few can resist their basic instincts.

However, both Gao Zhen and the Ninth Prince frowned simultaneously.

The Ninth Prince silently said a prayer to steady himself, remaining unmoved by the delicious spread.

Gao Zhen, on the other hand, recognized the origin of the dishes the moment he caught their scent, thanks to the original host’s memories—

Could it be He Shurong?!

The dishes were exactly like in the original host’s memory, down to the precise arrangement of garnishes on the plate. The only difference was an extra bowl of soup on the table.

In the original host’s memory, ever since his engagement to He Shurong, He Shurong would prepare these therapeutic dishes and deliver them to his home several times a month.

Thus, even with his eyes closed, Gao Zhen could recall the exact flavors of each dish through the original host’s memories.

Why would such dishes appear on this table now?

Could it be that He Shurong had prepared this healing cuisine?

What message was He Shurong trying to convey?

The only variable seemed to be the soup. With a quick glance, Gao Zhen closed his eyes and called up the system interface in his mind, "looking" at Note 3: “[Hidden... Mission] Progress 1%” Hint: Please contact the clue character as soon as possible “Character Card: He Shurong”

The progress of this hidden mission had stalled. Did it require contact with a key character to activate?

When he opened his eyes again, the Ninth Prince had already taken his seat. Gao Zhen’s gaze remained fixed on the soup, just in time to see Zhao Pu pretending to be attentive as he ladled a bowl and placed it before the Ninth Prince.

Gao Zhen’s intuition warned him that the soup was suspicious. Worried that the Ninth Prince might suffer ill effects from drinking it, he hurriedly called out, “Wait!”

Everyone turned to look at him.

Gao Zhen forced a faint smile, picked up a bowl, and ladled some soup while saying to Zhao Pu, “Today, we are grateful for your specially arranged delivery of this meal. Since we have neither tea nor wine here, let this soup stand in. Please accept it.”

Zhao Pu was stunned, and the other eunuchs were just as surprised. Everyone knew Gao Zhen was just making small talk, and his offering of soup was nothing more than showing he didn't trust them, a fear that they had poisoned the food.

It was unexpected—this young man seemed quite loyal to the Ninth Prince.

The eunuchs’ gazes toward Gao Zhen shifted slightly.

Zhao Pu, however, brushed it off. He thought to himself, this food wasn’t meant only for the Ninth Prince. Nowadays, everyone knew the entire royal family had their eyes on him and the Ninth Prince. Even if someone intended to poison them, why would they do it now?

Was this young man foolish, or was he putting on an act? Zhao Pu didn’t waste time thinking about it. His task today was simply to ensure the Ninth Prince and Gao Zhen finished every last bite. Now, it seemed clear that unless he drank the soup, these two wouldn’t touch their chopsticks.

To ease their suspicions, Zhao Pu took the bowl of soup and downed it in one gulp. He then turned the bowl upside down, raising his chin toward Gao Zhen. “Well? Are you satisfied now?”

Gao Zhen nodded and said, “Very well.” As he spoke, he calmly took his seat.

However, the moment he sat down, Zhao Pu’s stomach emitted a loud, unmistakable gurgle.

Everyone was shocked, including Zhao Pu himself. He stared disbelievingly at his own abdomen, but before he could say anything, he turned pale and rushed outside, retching violently.

The young eunuchs panicked, crowding around him—some patting his back, others offering handkerchiefs—throwing the area into chaos.

The Ninth Prince watched Gao Zhen thoughtfully.

Gao Zhen, however, frowned at the soup. What was He Shurong’s intention in preparing an emetic soup? When Gao Zhen ladled the soup earlier, he had detected several herbs known for their emetic properties.

Without time to ponder further, Gao Zhen glanced back at the flustered eunuchs. Seeing that no one was paying attention, he quickly scooped more soup and poured it into every dish. In his haste, he failed to notice the Ninth Prince watching him, his eyes gleaming intensely.

After finishing, Gao Zhen exchanged a glance with the Ninth Prince. Both sat upright and proper, waiting until Zhao Pu finally caught his breath. Gao Zhen coughed lightly and said, “It seems we dare not eat this meal today. Perhaps you should take it back?”

“Out of the question!” Zhao Pu, tears and mucus streaming down his face, pounded his chest and rolled his eyes fiercely. “The soup was an exception. The other dishes should be fine. You lot—go on, eat!”

The young eunuchs hesitated, torn between doubt and obedience. Reluctantly, they picked up their chopsticks, each taking a bite of a dish and swallowing with their eyes closed. Moments later, gurgling sounds erupted one after another across the courtyard, followed by the eunuchs rushing out, each leaning against a tree and vomiting violently.

Zhao Pu’s face turned grim with fury. His eyes widened in anger. Who dared sabotage his first day in charge? Had they grown tired of living?!

Gao Zhen and the Ninth Prince exchanged another look. In the Ninth Prince’s eyes, Gao Zhen saw indulgence—those brilliantly bright eyes seemed to say, “It’s alright, I’m here. Do whatever you need to do.”

For a moment, Gao Zhen felt his heartbeat skip a beat.

He quickly took a quiet, deep breath to steady himself before turning his attention back to the stunned Zhao Pu.

Well aware that Zhao Pu needed a way to save face, Gao Zhen casually remarked, “Do you know who prepared these dishes, Eunuch?”

Zhao Pu’s anger-cleared mind snapped back to focus. “Right! The problem must have occurred during preparation. I’ll go confront them immediately.”

“Where do you plan to go?” Gao Zhen said leisurely. “The Cold Palace is remote and quiet. If you suspect someone, summon them here for questioning. Why take this outside?”

Zhao Pu halted mid-step, whirling around to stare at Gao Zhen. Suddenly, he realized he had underestimated this young man. Indeed, no matter whom he confronted, he would only end up losing face. On his very first day, causing such a scene—it was far better to keep it under wraps.

“What do you want?” Zhao Pu didn’t believe Gao Zhen was helping him out of kindness. Based on these hints, he sensed this young man was anything but simple.

Gao Zhen smiled faintly. To reassure Zhao Pu, he began stating his conditions, making extravagant demands: “Our Prince requires a royal-grade canopy bed, a quilt stuffed with new cotton, brocade bedsheets, a silk pillow, enough clothing and footwear for all four seasons, cloud ink from Huizhou, and Xuan paper from Luzhou…”

Gao Zhen went on and on without pause. Everyone stared at him in astonishment—except for the Ninth Prince, whose lips curled slightly, hinting at a faint, rising smile.