Chapter 43

Chapter 43

For convicts and those of the debased class, to be removed from the register, they must first clear their name.

If the case cannot be overturned and the charges cannot be cleared, then they are doomed to a life of lowly status.

The Zhu family embezzlement case was brought to light through impeachment by the Censorate, adjudicated by the Chief Justice, reviewed by the Secretariat, and endorsed with the imperial red ink by Emperor Jinshun.

The one who convicted them was none other than the current emperor, who holds supreme imperial authority. To make him admit his mistake and acknowledge that the embezzlement case wronged the Zhu family would be next to impossible.

It wasn't that Zhu Qinghou hadn't considered changing his status, but to do so, he must first overturn the case. It couldn't be rushed; he could only proceed step by step.

He paid no heed to Li Zhen's words. Instead, he leaned in and planted a light kiss on Li Zhen's cheek, his manner casual and completely disregarding the officials present.

Everyone: “…”

They couldn't bear to watch.

A faint warmth brushed over Li Zhen's cheek, light and fleeting.

Li Zhen lowered his eyelashes, their tips trembling slightly. He gently closed his fingers around Zhu Qinghou's, his expression remaining unchanged.

Under the eaves, the wind chimes stirred, clear and ethereal.

Yejing had been lively lately. After the Eastern Palace was reprimanded twice, it finally shook off its gloom and welcomed a daughter of the Xie family as a secondary consort, filling the entire Eastern Palace with joy.

Li Jue had been the groom a few days ago, his handsome face still carrying a faint trace of happiness. He sat in the central hall adorned with red drapes, sipping tea with his head bowed.

“How is Yongzhou now?” he asked casually.

His fourth brother was foolish, even daring to reject such a good marriage proposal. The Xie family had quickly married their daughter to him instead. He probably regretted it so much his intestines turned green.

A confidant hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Prince Su is busy planting grass in Yongzhou.” They say that in Yongzhou sorghum has been grown that yields a crop every three months. If the Crown Prince found out, he might be furious.

“Planting grass?” another confidant laughed first. “It seems Prince Su, with nothing better to do, spent the past two years raising cattle and sheep, and now he’s busy planting grass for them.”

A faint smile flickered in Li Jue’s eyes as he softly chided, “Enough, don’t speak recklessly.”

His fourth brother had gone to Yongzhou, not only failing to be crushed but even finding the leisure to plant grass and raise sheep. Li Jue found it amusing, but a hint of vigilance also stirred in his heart.

“Is he really planting grass?”

The matter would come to light sooner or later, so the confidant dared not hide it any longer. He explained the whole story: a minor official demoted from Yejing to Yongzhou had grown sorghum in Pei County, Yongzhou.

What kind of place was Yongzhou? Notoriously barren and remote, located on the frontier with an exceptionally harsh climate. In spring and summer, yellow sand filled the sky; in autumn and winter, it was gripped by severe ice and snow.

How could such a godforsaken place grow sorghum that even the watery regions of Jiangnan couldn’t produce? Who would believe it? Yet the scouts stationed in Yongzhou swore they had seen the sorghum mature with their own eyes.

Li Jue lowered his gaze, almost melting into the dim shadows.

After a long pause, everyone heard him murmur, “This is a good thing. Yongzhou is also imperial land. If it can produce sorghum and bring peace to the people, nothing could be better.”

Everyone in the hall was terrified, cautiously echoing his words. Li Jue pondered for a moment. “Father’s birthday is approaching. In three months, Fourth Brother will come to the capital to offer congratulations. He is young, and his sight is poor. He may encounter dangers on the road. I hope you all will take good care of him.”

No matter how brilliant one’s strategies, they are no match for real blades. Once a person dies, no matter how glorious they were in life, they cannot make waves after death.

Everyone softly agreed, promising to take good care of Prince Su.

Previously, Prince Su stayed in Yongzhou, far away and out of reach. But once he left Yongzhou, his life would be at the mercy of fate.

Li Jue twirled Buddhist prayer beads between his fingers, wearing an indigo round-collar robe. He sat upright in an official’s hat chair, like a solemn portrait, meticulous and flawless.

“Deyu…” he hesitated for a moment, then asked softly, “Has his body been found?”

Zhu Qinghou knew too many secrets of the Eastern Palace. In the first place, he should never have been allowed to leave Yejing alive. However, letting him leave the capital was also a death sentence.

Since Zhu Qinghou would die sooner or later, perhaps out of a sliver of compassion, Li Jue didn’t let Zhu Qinghou die by his own hand.

The confidant shook his head. “No.”

Their spies only traced Zhu Qinghou to Prince Su’s residence. After that, there was no news, not a single clue.

He was probably long dead, his bones buried in Prince Su’s residence.

Li Jue frowned slightly, a vague unease stirring in his heart. He felt that, given Deyu’s nature, he would never die quietly.

A person like him would die in a way that shook the world, making sure no one could forget him.

Li Jue suppressed his unease. “Increase the manpower. We must find him. If he’s dead, we must see the body—” He paused, then continued, “If he’s alive, we must see the person.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Did His Highness mean…

If Zhu Qinghou wasn’t dead, bring him back safely?

Someone couldn’t decipher his meaning and cautiously glanced at His Highness.

“—Change his name and identity, and bring him back.”

“What an immense honor.”

Zhu Qinghou smiled, his eyes curving. He opened his mouth, took the tip of the silver chopsticks, bit off the food on them, and swallowed.

He chewed slowly before adding, “To have Xian Pu pick up food for me.”

The hall was empty, all doors closed, with long black drapes hanging. Candlelight flickered softly, warming the entire hall.

Li Zhen had removed the white silk blindfold and casually tied it around his wrist. His wrist was like jade, his long, pale fingers holding the silver chopsticks. His gaze paused on the chopstick tips before he continued eating.

This was the first time the two had shared a meal since Li Zhen regained his sight.

Scenes he could only imagine through sound before were now painted with color before his eyes: the candlelight in the hall, the sheen of silk on clothing, the glow of fair skin—all vividly rushing toward him.

Soft, warm light fell into Li Zhen’s eyes, settling on his dark eyelashes.

“Xian Pu?” Seeing him motionless, Zhu Qinghou leaned in curiously to look at him.

Li Zhen blinked, the faint light entering his eyes. He gestured succinctly to Zhu Qinghou: “Eat.”

“What were you spacing out about just now?” Zhu Qinghou sat back in his seat, pouting and muttering.

Li Zhen remained silent, gazing at Zhu Qinghou’s soft face and his clear, bright eyes. The corners of his eyes tilted slightly upward, as if hiding a dark hook that could ensnare someone, making it impossible to look away.

A purple silk ribbon lazily tied his black hair, casually draped to one side, messy yet vibrant. He wore a deep purple round-collar robe that outlined his slender, elegant frame, with delicate bones and skin like jade.

More vivid and radiant than what he had “seen” through touch before.

“In three months, we’ll return to Yejing,” Li Zhen said.

“Huh?” Zhu Qinghou was startled, belatedly remembering. “The old man’s birthday?” he asked again. “You’re taking me back to the capital to offer congratulations?”

When the Zhu family was sent into exile, the Emperor explicitly decreed that they were forbidden from ever returning to the capital.

Others might alter their appearance and slip back, but as the son of an infamous traitor, with such a striking face, he would likely be seized the moment he set foot in Yejing.

Did Li Zhen mean for him to disguise himself and return under a false name?

Li Zhen said calmly, "No need for disguises."

Return to Yejing openly?

He would likely be arrested by the Chief Justice the moment he stepped through the Qianqiu Gate.

Zhu Qinghou couldn't believe Li Zhen was even more reckless than himself. For a moment, he set his meal aside, pointing to the brand between his eyebrows—It's so obvious. Doesn't it need *any* disguise?

From start to finish, Li Zhen simply looked at him with a gentle gaze, his voice calm. "We're going to Yejing, and we probably won't be coming back."

Either die in Yejing, or stay in Yejing.

Either way, they wouldn't return to Yongzhou.

Zhu Qinghou, clever as he was, grasped Li Zhen's meaning. He took a sip of clear tea, his eyes curving into a smile. "Alright."

Since they were preparing to return to the capital, the most crucial thing was silver. In a place as turbulent as Yejing, without silver, every move would be a struggle.

After the meal, Zhu Qinghou took Yongzhou's account books and lazily reclined on the low couch to review them. Several scrolls of documents were stacked together, forming a small hill.

He was quite interested in finances and didn't find it tedious at all. By the candlelight, he read the complex entries with great enthusiasm.

A small table on the couch held a candle, its faint, warm glow enveloping the young man in purple, making his robes shimmer and his features just as they were in the past.

Compared to his youth, Zhu Qinghou was now more tall and slender, his demeanor like polished purple jade tempered by frost and snow—warm, refined, and languid.

Zhu Qinghou raised an eyebrow, smiling as he looked up and met Li Zhen's gaze. He waved the scroll in his hand. "So you're this wealthy?"

Over the years in Yongzhou, raising cattle and sheep, Li Zhen had actually amassed quite a fortune. Coupled with the profits from the tea-horse trade at the market, he had made a killing. Calculating it all, even Zhu Qinghou found the number hard to believe.

Li Zhen's expression remained placid, accurately pulling one particular scroll from the pile and handing it to Zhu Qinghou.

Zhu Qinghou took it and his smile froze. It was indeed a massive expenditure. Looking at the details, it was all spent on raising troops.

His eyes widened slightly, surprised that Li Zhen had raised so many cavalry in Yongzhou.

"Xian Pu,"

Li Zhen lowered his gaze to meet a pair of sparkling eyes. His heart stirred, his gaze deepening as he waited for Zhu Qinghou's next words.

Zhu Qinghou's eyes gleamed, like a cat about to cause mischief. "Let's just fight our way back to Yejing!"

Li Zhen: "..."

He pressed his cool fingertip to Zhu Qinghou's brow, right on the brand. It had long since scabbed over and grown new flesh, its color starkly different from the surrounding skin—a vivid red dot.

"Alright," Li Zhen said softly.

Zhu Qinghou was practically bouncing with excitement, his tail ready to soar. "Really?"

"Really," Li Zhen replied calmly, his expression serious.

"Then we'll charge in through the Qianqiu Gate, first go to Qianqing Palace to see the old man, then storm the Eastern Palace to deal with Li Jue, and finally kick Lin Hanyi out of the Secretariat." From the biggest to the smallest, methodically handling them all, leaving no one out.

Zhu Qinghou described it all with fervor, while Li Zhen listened quietly, nodding in agreement from time to time.

"Finished?"

"Finished."

"Then it's time to sleep," Li Zhen whispered.