Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The hall was pitch dark, with moonlight outlining Li Zhen's silhouette, like a shadow edged with light.

"What did you dream about?" Li Zhen asked him.

Zhu Qinghou pulled up the scattered quilt, wrapping himself into a cocoon, and blurted out a lie: "I dreamed of you," his tone carrying a very real-sounding tremor of fear, "I dreamed you were kissing me while thrusting a sword into my heart."

Though he made it up, he couldn't shake the feeling that the current Li Zhen was capable of such a thing.

Feigning ignorance of the weirdness in his words, Zhu Qinghou got up and unabashedly peeked at Li Zhen's handwritten document. The silk scroll was densely covered with needle-pricked text.

He reached out, rubbing the pricked imprints with his fingertip, looking left and right but unable to make head or tail of it. He simply asked directly, "What is the tax rate for Yongzhou this season?"

Li Zhen only said, "Stop."

His hovering brush tip twitched, before the wolf-hair brush concealing bristles could sweep over, Zhu Qinghou swiftly withdrew his hand. "I used to serve as a Secretariat Gentleman in the Secretariat, assisting with tax and tribute matters."

He had spoken so plainly, yet Li Zhen never responded.

He'd never in his life encountered such a situation where his offer to help was simply ignored. Zhu Qinghou, too lazy to bother with Li Zhen any further, turned and walked back to the bed curtain, lying down to sleep again.

The long, steady sound of breathing once again reached his ears. Zhu Qinghou seemed very fond of sleeping these days. In his youth, he indulged in wine and music, seeing all the sights of Chang'an in a single day, but now he had become so different.

Li Zhen rubbed the raised and sunken needle pricks, lost in thought.

This document contained not only information about Yongzhou's tribute for this season but also a message from the Qinghe Cui clan, urging him to collect taxes, kill Zhu Qinghou, and appease the people's grievances.

It was indeed a perfectly sound and safe plan. If not for the breathing of the person inside the bed curtain being too noisy, disturbing the deathly silence of this hall... he might have agreed.

The wind whispered, and sparrows chirped in the long courtyard.

After waking, Zhu Qinghou lay lazily on a rattan chair in the central courtyard, draped in a black fox-fur cloak, the edge revealing a hint of purple robe, his snow-white toes resting on a footstool.

He looked thoroughly drowsy and unrestrained.

Not far away, the royal soldiers and attendants watched him from a distance, their gazes complex.

This was Zhu Qinghou. At seventeen, his reputation shook the royal domain, evaluated by the Rectifier as "of illustrious lineage, uniquely handsome among gentlemen." One might have thought these words contained some exaggeration, but upon seeing his true appearance, one realized those eight characters were still too simplistic.

The Zhu family's embezzlement left the state treasury depleted, forcing Emperor Jinshun to increase taxes. Layer upon layer of burdens pressed down, making it hard for Yongzhou to breathe.

They should hate him, yet for some reason, they found they couldn't.

"Come here."

Zhu Qinghou had opened his eyes at some point, beckoning them with a finger.

No one dared speak to him, let alone approach him. They hurriedly averted their gazes, pretending to be clay statues or wooden figurines.

Zhu Qinghou lazily stood up and walked over to them, asking, "Why won't anyone look at me? Am I very ugly?"

"... Not ugly," a young attendant couldn't help but whisper in response. As soon as he spoke, his face paled, instantly realizing his mistake.

"Does Xian Pu forbid you from speaking to me?" Zhu Qinghou's tone was gentle, making the attendant lower his head like a quail, not daring to look at him again.

Zhu Qinghou seemed in high spirits, chattering questions around them. Everyone remained silent, evasively refusing to look at him.

Uncle Cui stood under the side hall, watching the purple-robed youth with hidden suspicion. After Zhu Qinghou left, he approached and asked, "What did he say just now?"

Everyone bowed to him and said, "He asked about fine wines, delicacies, local specialties, and curiosities in Yongzhou... Oh, and he also asked if there were any crucian carp."

Uncle Cui frowned. A mere slave, truly treating exile as a pleasure trip?

Crucian carp were mostly found in the Huai River region. They would have to wait until spring, when the Huai River thawed, report to His Highness, and send a boat to Sizhou to purchase them.

At night, Zhu Qinghou pestered Li Zhen for crucian carp. Li Zhen pushed him away, "Wait until spring."

"What, hasn't the Huai River thawed yet?" Zhu Qinghou asked, seemingly casually.

Confined within the Prince of Su's residence, his every word and action was monitored. To find out if the ice on the Huai River had melted, he had to go through great lengths, hiding his true question within others.

"Not yet," Li Zhen said softly. "The boats from Sizhou still cannot come through."

Zhu Qinghou turned over and hugged him. "When spring comes, you'll buy some for me, okay?"

"... Do you really want to eat crucian carp?" Li Zhen also turned over. "Or are you waiting for people from Sizhou to come for you?"

The hall fell silent for a moment.

"Sizhou?" Zhu Qinghou was puzzled, unconsciously loosening his arms around Li Zhen. "Do I know anyone in Sizhou?"

Li Zhen smiled slightly but said nothing.

Zhu Qinghou completely let go and turned his back. "Forget it. If you don't want to buy it, I won't force you." He seemed regretful, but under his inner robe, his hands were already damp with a thin layer of sweat. How did Li Zhen know?

In the Zhu family embezzlement case, all families associated with the Zhus either proactively severed ties and turned to the righteous side or were implicated. The Zhu family's overt influence in the court and the country was almost entirely eradicated.

Only trusted confidants and friends hidden in the shadows were preserved. The Governor of Sizhou was his father's friend.

Even the Commandant of Justice in Yejing hadn't uncovered this information. How did Li Zhen know?

Did he truly know, or was he bluffing?

Zhu Qinghou's thoughts churned wildly but settled into calm in an instant.

When uncertain, sleep first.

He slept soundly all day, carefree and heartless, but in the Prince of Su's residence, someone couldn't rest peacefully. Uncle Cui looked at the message from the Qinghe Cui clan, his fingertips tightening.

Killing Zhu Qinghou would bring a hundred benefits and not a single harm. Yet, His Highness simply refused to act, even bringing the man into his hall, sharing his bed night after night. It was unclear whether they were enemies or lovers.

The Qinghe Cui clan had no choice but to order him to find a way to eliminate Zhu Qinghou, lest His Highness suffer harm from him again in the future.

He couldn't risk angering His Highness by killing a convict, so he had to think of another method and wait for now.

Zhu Qinghou was also waiting, waiting for someone to lose patience and surface.

"You, slave! Why aren't you walking faster?! His Highness's palace is no place for us to linger!" an older attendant scolded harshly. The young attendant murmured in agreement, holding a broom, not daring to speak.

These past few days, some snow had melted. The steward had arranged for these newly entered servants to sweep and clean the courtyard paths.

Seeing him walk slowly, the attendant gave him a push, nearly making him stumble.

"What was that noise?"

Just beyond the wall, Zhu Qinghou, resting on the rattan chair, opened his eyes.

The royal soldiers on duty were responsible for guarding him and naturally wouldn't let him step out to investigate. Having previously received His Highness's order not to speak to him, no one responded.

Zhu Qinghou rose to his feet, the fox fur cloak in his arms, and looked outside. Through the moon gate, he caught a glimpse of the hem of a robe that looked vaguely familiar. He called out to the person, "Stop."

The person instinctively turned around, timidly lowering his head. "Look up," Zhu Qinghou commanded. The latter slowly raised his head, revealing a crimson tattoo on his forehead.

He had seen this youth once before, at the Lan Pavilion gathering.

This was Zhu Xueting, a talented youth from a collateral branch of the Zhu family, who had once made a name for himself at the Lan Pavilion.

Though considered a collateral branch, they actually shared no blood relation. In the days when the Zhu family was powerful, many distant relatives with the flimsiest of connections had come forward to claim kinship. His father, in order to expand his influence, had selected useful individuals from among them and welcomed them with a smile.

"Zhu Xueting?" Zhu Qinghou recognized him. Zhu Xueting looked flustered and panicked. The attendant walking ahead turned back and scolded him, "What are you standing there for?" The attendant glanced over and, upon seeing Zhu Qinghou, choked back his words. Without another word, he grabbed Zhu Xueting and tried to leave.

"Wait," Zhu Qinghou leaned against the moon gate and called out through the guarding royal soldiers, "Leave him here."

Hearing this, the attendant stopped, somewhat apprehensive. A few days earlier, several servants who had gossiped about Zhu Qinghou had been summoned to the prince's chambers and emerged covered in blood. If he offended Zhu Qinghou...

He released Zhu Xueting and, without another glance, walked away.

"Xueting," Zhu Qinghou called, "Come in."

Zhu Xueting hesitated, cautiously studying Zhu Qinghou. The man was dressed in purple, draped in a dark fox fur cloak, his expression relaxed and lazy. He didn’t look like a convict but rather like the young, influential noble who had once charmed the capital.

Clutching his broom, Zhu Xueting followed Zhu Qinghou through the moon gate.

The soldiers guarding the gate were stumped. The prince had only instructed them to watch Zhu Qinghou and not allow him to step outside, but he hadn’t said anything about forbidding him from inviting others in.

They hesitated, uncertain, but in the end, they could only watch as the teenage servant entered.

Zhu Qinghou asked Zhu Xueting why he was here. Zhu Xueting, for reasons unknown, didn't speak but used gestures to explain. After the public parade that day, he had followed the exiled group to the government office for assignment as a servant. He was quickly sold, changed hands twice, and eventually sent to Prince Su’s residence.

After hearing his story, Zhu Qinghou patted his head and didn’t dwell on his silence. He said gently, "From now on, you can stay here." Since those people had brought Zhu Xueting before him, he couldn’t let the child fall back into his previous circumstances.

When Li Zhen returned and heard from the servants that Zhu Qinghou had taken in a servant to keep by his side—a delicate, scholarly-looking young boy from the Zhu family—he remarked, "You seem quite at home here."

He had confined Zhu Qinghou, forbidding him from leaving the hall, yet Zhu Qinghou showed no awareness of being a prisoner. He lazed about all day, demanding delicacies and servants.

Even exile and branding seemed not to have worn away the innate arrogance in his bones.

"Xian Pu," Zhu Qinghou placated him calmly, "It’s only by your side that I find joy. As for these external things, since you have them, what harm is there in giving me some?"

His words were spoken with such shameless confidence that Li Zhen almost laughed. He wished he could open his eyes and see Zhu Qinghou’s expression—was it sly and smiling, or arrogant and triumphant?

"Come here."

Li Zhen said softly.

Zhu Qinghou obediently moved closer. The talisman plaque around his neck clinked against the beaded neck torque, making a jingling sound. Li Zhen heard it, grabbed the chain, and slowly tightened it until he heard Zhu Qinghou’s strained breathing, then stopped.

This was torture.

He deliberately tormented Zhu Qinghou to capture more of his presence in the endless darkness.

Zhu Qinghou clutched his neck, cursing inwardly. Damn Li Zhen, so unpredictable—seemingly normal on the surface, yet sometimes turning into a dog for no reason, biting him without warning.

"...Are you cursing me?" Li Zhen, though blindfolded, as if he could see right through the blindfold, softly deciphering those words.