Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Beneath the eaves, spring light spilled softly and diffusely. The overlapping ridges of the roof cast elongated shadows across the ground, framing two slender, lean figures.

Zhu Qinghou lowered his voice to murmur something to Lou Changqing, who widened his eyes in surprise before nodding quickly in assent.

In just a few short steps, Zhu Qinghou had finished what he needed to say. By the time they reached the main hall, both had already composed their expressions—polite, reserved, and distant.

Lou Changqing lifted his gaze slightly, his eyes inadvertently sweeping across the central hall. Suddenly, he caught sight of a snow-white robe hem. Following it upward, he glimpsed the man’s face—

His Highness Prince Su?!

As a mere sixth-rank county magistrate, how could he possibly merit a personal audience with His Highness?

Trembling inwardly, Lou Changqing knelt immediately to pay his respects. Prince Su acknowledged him with detached indifference before turning and walking deeper into the hall.

The three of them took their seats accordingly: Lou Changqing sat stiffly on the lower seat; Zhu Qinghou occupied the right-hand seat at the upper end; and Prince Su sat at the head position.

Having already conveyed his instructions earlier, Zhu Qinghou remained silent, allowing Lou Changqing to report directly to Prince Su.

For a minor sixth-rank official to bypass all superiors and report straight to the Prince was an extraordinary honor.

Lou Changqing visibly tensed, sitting upright and rigid as he recounted, in meticulous detail, his administrative achievements in Pei County over the past several months.

Prince Su listened quietly, saying little at first but occasionally interjecting with a question or two.

After Lou Changqing departed, Zhu Qinghou smiled and asked Li Zhen, “Well? What do you think of my judgment? Is he promising material?”

Prince Su’s tone was cool. “Hmm.”

“So you no longer dislike him?”

Zhu Qinghou asked softly. He had long noticed Li Zhen’s general aversion to those around him. Others might possess the means to protect themselves—but Lou Changqing was merely a low-ranking sixth-rank official. If he fell into Li Zhen’s hands, he would likely fare poorly.

Rather than trying to persuade Li Zhen to accept Lou Changqing, it was wiser to let Li Zhen witness his value firsthand.

—Useful people lived a little longer.

Li Zhen gazed at Zhu Qinghou through the hazy, murky dimness for a long while before asking, “What is he to you, in your heart?”

Zhu Qinghou replied casually, “A friend.”

“You gave him the jade bracelet?”

Zhu Qinghou was startled again. He owned many such jade bracelets in his palace—Li Zhen had prepared numerous ones for him, and he wore a different one each day.

He thought nothing of it, casually removing one to bestow upon Lou Changqing as a token of reward.

“Do you want it back?” Zhu Qinghou stood up, ready to retrieve it from Lou Changqing, who hadn’t gone far.

“…No need,” Li Zhen said.

“Would you be angry if I gave your things to someone else?” Zhu Qinghou realized belatedly. Having lived a life of luxury surrounded by admirers since childhood, he never valued gold or jade—and was accustomed to bestowing gifts freely upon others.

Still, the jade bracelet ultimately belonged to Li Zhen.

A faint, subtle emotion stirred within Zhu Qinghou. How had he come to treat Li Zhen’s possessions as his own? This deepening intimacy and indulgence didn’t seem like a good sign…

Li Zhen sensed the emotion transmitted by the Child Gu; his brow twitched slightly, as if grasping something. Calmly, he said, “Since you wish to reward him, a single jade bracelet is insufficient. I will send someone to deliver additional gifts.”

Zhu Qinghou was somewhat surprised. Didn’t Li Zhen dislike Lou Changqing? Yet now that sorghum cultivation had succeeded, rewarding the meritorious official—and thereby encouraging others to develop Yongzhou’s agriculture—was essential.

Considering this, he voiced no objection.

After concluding matters concerning Lou Changqing, the central hall lapsed into silence. Outside, wind chimes swayed gently; sunlight danced and shimmered, lending the space a tranquil air.

Zhu Qinghou drifted into thought about Li Zhen’s upcoming birthday, remaining silent for a moment.

Li Zhen, ever reticent, did not initiate conversation either. The echoes of Zhu Qinghou and Lou Changqing’s cheerful laughter from earlier seemed to linger faintly in his ears.

Yet now, before him, Zhu Qinghou wouldn’t even spare him a few words.

Li Zhen suddenly let out a cold laugh.

Hearing it, Zhu Qinghou snapped back to reality, looking bewildered. What was wrong now?

“You’re getting married, yet you’re not happy?” he teased lightly. As soon as the words left his mouth, he abruptly sensed something amiss. Why did that sound so much like jealous sarcasm? What did Li Zhen’s marriage have to do with him?

The Child Gu transmitted a sour, peculiar emotion—dense and dull, like cotton soaked in water, damp and sodden.

Li Zhen calmly savored this unprecedented feeling—familiar, yet unfamiliar. It actually originated from Zhu Qinghou.

He remained silent for a long moment—then laughed again.

Zhu Qinghou felt flustered by the laughter. He picked up a teacup and took a sip. When he looked up again, his expression had returned to its usual smiling ease.

“I am indeed very happy,” Li Zhen said, his typically cold voice carrying a hint of warmth—calm and gentle.

Hearing this, Zhu Qinghou smiled, raised his teacup in a toast from across the room, and said, “Then I offer my early congratulations on Your Highness’s joyous wedding.” His voice was calm and light, betraying no trace of abnormality.

Li Zhen nodded. “Likewise.”

Zhu Qinghou tugged at the corner of his mouth and took another sip of tea, trying to suppress the rising anger within him. *Fine, Li Zhen. Were all those past interactions merely a dream I had alone?*

Adopting an attitude of unyielding composure, he continued, “The princess consort is the legitimate daughter of the Xie family. With the Xie family as your in-laws, it will be like adding wings to a tiger. Congratulations, Your Highness.”

His words were earnest and sincere—utterly free of pretense.

“…Are you happy?” Li Zhen asked him, his voice clear as jade, cold as ice—like a stream of icy water pouring straight into one’s heart.

Zhu Qinghou was about to continue bantering when his thoughts shifted. Why argue with Li Zhen over this? Going in circles was a waste of time.

He stated outright, “I am not happy.”

Li Zhen was taken aback.

The hall fell utterly silent—so quiet one could hear the chirping of birds outside and the faint, muffled rustling of leaves.

“You are not happy,” Li Zhen repeated—then asked, “So what?”

Zhu Qinghou said he was unhappy—presumably meaning he didn’t want to see him marry. Yet he had done nothing. He hadn’t raised any objections. He hadn’t even uttered a single word like, “Xian Pu, I don’t want to see you get married.”

He had even offered congratulations earlier.

Zhu Qinghou fell silent for a moment, gripped by an indescribable restlessness. The priorities were clear at a glance. If he were Li Zhen, faced with this choice, he would most likely choose to marry the Xie family’s daughter. With in-law support, his chances of securing the throne would be greater.

Unwilling to dwell further on the topic, Zhu Qinghou stood, his tone light. “Qing Xi is probably waiting for me in the palace. I should head back now.”

Without waiting for a reply, Zhu Qinghou was the first to walk out of the central hall.

The sound of footsteps reached Li Zhen's ears, carrying a hint of fleeing in disarray. He remained seated quietly, stroking the cold beast head on his cane.

His expression was calm and indifferent, emotionally detached, with a cold, superior insight into everything.

Not wanting to see him marry, yet not speaking plainly, torn between two choices.

—This was very unlike Zhu Qinghou's nature.

Was the hesitation because he didn't want him to marry someone else, yet was mindful of the political stakes, still brooding over the throne he had missed due to blindness years ago?

Or perhaps, not wanting him to marry was simply because he didn't want to see him gain support to contend with his beloved cousin in the future. The reason for not speaking plainly was just playing the victim, hoping he would refuse on his own.

Li Zhen's mind grew increasingly calm. He began to anticipate what kind of surprise the letter inscribed with "Eastern Palace" would bring.

As for marriage...

He lowered his eyelashes, concealing the coldness in his eyes.

Zhu Qinghou was completely unaware of the myriad thoughts that had flashed through Li Zhen's mind in just a short moment. He lay lazily in the shade of the blossoms, basking in the sun.

Strangely enough, the Nalan Flower was exceptionally precious; even in the prosperous and wealthy Yejing, it might not even thrive. The Zhu family had once tried every means to barely keep two plants alive, guarded as rare treasures, placed right by Zhu Qinghou's window.

Yet inside and outside Li Zhen's residence, a vast expanse of them bloomed—pale purple and deep purple, a sea of flowers swaying in the wind.

"When were these flowers planted?" Zhu Qinghou liked the Nalan Flower, but he wasn't narcissistic enough to think they were planted specifically for him. After all, long before he stepped into this hall, the flowers had already been in full, lush bloom.

...Could they have been planted in advance, waiting for his arrival?

Recently, Uncle Cui had been looking at him with a complex gaze—hatred mixed with a hint of sympathy—and had stopped bickering with him. "Four years ago."

Four years ago, when Li Zhen had just arrived in Yongzhou to take his fiefdom.

At that time, dangers lurked everywhere. He was busy overseeing the construction of Jun Terrace, yet he still found time for the leisurely pursuit of planting flowers.

Zhu Qinghou gently pulled down a flower branch and sniffed it. The fragrance was faint, beautiful and ethereal, with a hint of mystery.

Zhu Liujun came running over, noticed the Nalan Flowers, and casually remarked, "These flowers are just like Xiao Yu, and the scent is similar too."

Now that she had said it, Zhu Qinghou sniffed the hem of his robe and realized there was indeed some resemblance.

"Uncle Cui," Zhu Qinghou said with a smile, looking at Uncle Cui, "could it be that Xian Pu planted these flowers for me?"

Uncle Cui recalled four years ago, when His Highness was overwhelmed with state affairs, busy taking over Yongzhou's administration, busy scheming against treacherous officials. Every time he returned to the hall, he was exhausted, yet he still found time every day to tend to these purple flowers.

Beautiful, ostentatious but impractical—not something His Highness would typically like, but rather something Zhu Qinghou would favor.

He hesitated for a moment, then said coldly, "Zhu Qinghou, please know your place."

When his future wife enters the household, if such words were overheard by her, wouldn't it cause turmoil in the inner quarters?

Zhu Qinghou, having rarely gained the upper hand in arguments with this old man, couldn't help but burst into laughter. Seeing the other's face grow increasingly grim, he comforted, "Alright, alright, Uncle Cui, I understand."

Uncle Cui: "..."

Not comforted at all.

Zhu Liujun crouched beside the wicker chair, gazing at the sea of purple flowers as if remembering something. She said with certainty, "Xiao Yu, these flowers must have been planted by His Highness for you." She continued, "When Prince Su was leaving the capital back then, he once asked me for flower seeds."

After Prince Su lost his sight and suffered successive blows, he secluded himself and refused visitors. Zhu Qinghou had tried repeatedly to visit but was turned away each time. After exhausting all means, he finally managed to see Li Zhen once—at Consort Cui's funeral.

After that, Li Zhen went to Yongzhou to take his fiefdom, separated by thousands of miles, making it even harder to meet.

At that time, the Zhu family had sided with Li Jue, putting them in direct opposition to Li Zhen. He never expected that Li Zhen would come to the Zhu family to ask for flower seeds before his departure.

The wind rustled through the flowers and leaves. Zhu Qinghou's eyelashes trembled slightly.