Chapter 207: The Next Life

Chapter 207: The Next Life

Inside, Imperial Consort Zhuang was clearly furious, coughing and gasping as she called out, "Dan Qiong! Dan Qiong!"

Dan Qiong, frantic with worry, bent down and pulled at Zhi Jie, motioning for him to enter with her and apologize and admit fault.

But Zhi Jie's knees seemed rooted to the ground; no matter how she pulled, he did not budge an inch.

Helpless, Dan Qiong could only hurry through the palace gates alone.

For a moment, only Zhi Jie and Qi Hongzhuang remained in the courtyard, where the pine breeze drifted gently.

Qi Hongzhuang sighed softly and crouched down. "With all this stir, he should have been invited here himself. Unfortunately, I know nothing of opera, and I don't like watching it either."

"Such matters, you should have worked out privately with You Que. Why come to me, his wife, first?" Qi Hongzhuang's tone was flat, as if she were stating a foregone conclusion. "Coming specifically to tell me this—you're hoping I'll pass it on to the Emperor, aren't you?"

Hearing her say this, the coughing from within the palace went from heavy to light and gradually died down.

Zhi Jie wiped the ritual water from his face and nodded mildly and respectfully. "In the end, I can't hide anything from my mistress's sharp eyes."

Qi Hongzhuang said offhandedly, "It's because he taught me well."

The moment the words left her mouth, she saw Zhi Jie turn his face to one side and break into a smile.

Qi Hongzhuang: "..." She had forgotten. This one, too, had been taught by Le Wuya.

To be honest, Qi Hongzhuang was still somewhat surprised by this whole affair.

Neither Imperial Consort Zhuang—who devoted herself solely to Daoist cultivation and paid no heed to worldly affairs—nor Zhi Jie—gentle, obedient, and quiet—seemed like the type to do such a thing.

It seemed that appearances truly could be deceiving.

Qi Hongzhuang steadied herself and asked, "When did you find out about me and him?"

"At first, I didn't know," Zhi Jie replied. "But I chose many auspicious dates and cast over twenty divinations, and all of them said my master's Eight Characters lacked the wealth star—meaning he was destined to remain unmarried."

Qi Hongzhuang: "..."

"Later, when my master and mistress remained childless for years and he never took a concubine to carry on the family line, I thought—since my master sought no sons or grandsons, perhaps he might be open to being with a man as well."

Qi Hongzhuang: "..." You really dare to think such things.

Zhi Jie continued, "A year ago, my master returned from outside, stricken with a high fever. I happened to meet him and walked him home. I saw that although my master and mistress shared the same chamber, there were two beds—a small couch by the window with a complete set of bedding bearing my master's scent, while the main bed carried only the faint fragrance of flowers. I privately guessed that my master and mistress had long been sleeping apart."

Qi Hongzhuang: "And how did you discover that I'm the Emperor's woman?"

"I often watch my master, and occasionally I noticed my mistress behaving oddly. On the first and fifteenth of every month, you would without fail submit a greeting memorial to the palace. Even orthodox members of the imperial clan never paid their respects so devoutly."

"I am renowned throughout the land for filial piety, honored by the Emperor with the title 'Filial and Virtuous.' What's wrong with serving His Majesty with utmost devotion?"

Zhi Jie pondered for a long while, as if searching for words that would not seem disrespectful or offensive: "...However, Father... hmm..."

Qi Hongzhuang, seeing him struggle, filled in the two words for him: "Doesn't deserve it."

Zhi Jie lowered his head and said meekly, "My mistress is right."

Qi Hongzhuang sighed, glanced around, and said, "Why didn't you just come to me alone about such a matter? Why drag Imperial Consort Zhuang into this?"

Zhi Jie: "My mother is my mother; she should know. She is thirty-four this year, still in good health. If she were older and heard such news, I'm afraid she couldn't bear it."

Qi Hongzhuang: "..." You're really filial.

Once she steadied herself, she asked the question she cared about most: "You know his body is in bad shape now, don't you?"

At the mention of Le Wuya, Zhi Jie's expression froze slightly. "I know."

"He is deeply feared by the Emperor, hampered at every turn, stepping into traps with every move—you know that too?"

"I know."

"Then why would you ask me to tell the Emperor of your unnatural feelings for him?"

This time, Zhi Jie fell silent.

His fists, resting on his knees, clenched tightly within his wide sleeves.

"My master's body and mind are both broken, and the winds in the court grow ever fiercer. He is like a candle in the wind. I am still young, my roots not yet firmly planted. I want to give my master a talisman of protection. And I have nothing else to offer but myself."

With that, Zhi Jie placed his hand solemnly over his left chest. "Mistress, to speak honestly—if not for this, I would not wish to be the lesser one."

"..."

After a long, speechless pause, Qi Hongzhuang said, "How do you know it won't be a death warrant instead? From what I know, the Emperor greatly fears—no, utterly abhors same-sex love. When the Fourth Prince, who favored painting and calligraphy, was merely gifted a few burly young men to sketch for figure studies, the Emperor summoned him for a stern reprimand and ordered him to send them away at once, lest any filthy business arise. If he cannot even tolerate such a thing, what do you think he will do when he learns of your heart?"

The Qingxi Palace fell into utter silence.

Qi Hongzhuang noticed that when she mentioned this, Zhi Jie's gaze flickered almost imperceptibly toward the palace.

"My mistress still does not understand my meaning." Zhi Jie withdrew his gaze and said quietly, "I will be his talisman of protection."

Qi Hongzhuang was taken aback, and then it all clicked into place.

The Fourth Prince and those men he used for painting were merely master and servants. A scolding, a shrug of resignation, and sending them away was the end of it.

But Zhi Jie... he intended to use his future, his entire life, even his very life as leverage, to secure You Que's safe landing after the reckoning.

Qi Hongzhuang could not help but remind him: "His body—you tend to it daily, so you know well. He has not long to live. Two years at least, three at most. This exchange of yours is hardly worth it."

Zhi Jie: "Two years is more than enough."

"...I had thought I would have to wait for the next life."

Qi Hongzhuang understood his heart now, and her own resolve steadied.

She rose to her feet and said calmly, "What happened today—from my lips to your ears. I will not speak of it to anyone... including him."

Zhi Jie was stunned. He hurriedly shuffled forward on his knees, two steps, his eyes asking: ...Why?

This was the strongest surge of emotion he had shown since Qi Hongzhuang had entered the Qingxi Palace.

"You are his beloved student. How could he not know your heart?" Qi Hongzhuang said. "If he learned that you would rather destroy yourself to save him, he would sigh that he is indeed the most pitiable person in the world—and then take his own life that very night."

After a long silence, until his eyes grew red-rimmed, Zhi Jie said softly, "Cutting one's throat is unsightly. He would burn charcoal."

Qi Hongzhuang thought—yes, that was something he would do.

She asked, "Since you knew this would happen, why come to me at all?"

"To gamble. If my master can see past it, then all the better."

Qi Hongzhuang, seeing how candid he was, matched his honesty: "Wait until the next life. ... In this life, he's been tangled up in too many ties and cut too many bonds; a good end is hard to come by. Since the end's near, let him have fewer worries."

Zhi Jie went quiet again for a long while.

When he spoke again, he was back to his usual polite, mild-mannered self.

He stood up calmly, stumbled a couple of steps, then bent down and lifted two bolts of tribute silk and a collar from a bundle at his side.

"The weather's turned cold, so I made a mink collar for my teacher. Ma'am, please give it to him in your name," Zhi Jie said. "I also found two fine bolts of tribute silk for you. I hope you'll accept them."

Qi Hongzhuang: "..." Having a young one around isn't so bad after all.

...

Having made a deal with Zhi Jie not to mention the matter, Qi Hongzhuang didn't tell Le Wuya anything specific.

She swallowed a sip of tea and said, "In short, he's not right in the head."

Le Wuya wanted to stick up for Xiaoliu a bit.

The boy was so young, so impressive—what was wrong with wanting to be emperor?

That's what you call ambition!

How's that a screw loose?

But seeing that Qi Hongzhuang seemed unwilling to discuss it further, Le Wuya, held back by his rank, didn't press the matter. He could only glare off to the side, sulking.

Qi Hongzhuang watched his profile, and in her usually icy, frosty eyes, it seemed a spring breeze had quietly swept through.

Back at Qingxi Palace, she'd only been comforting Zhi Jie.

The so-called "next life" was a vague, distant thing—just a faint hope for unfinished wishes.

But maybe this next life had actually come.

...

After seeing Qi Hongzhuang off, Le Wuya barely enjoyed two days of peace before he was summoned to the Surveillance Bureau for a chat.

Upon seeing him, Zheng Miao cut straight to the chase: "I hear you've been raising hell in Tongzhou again?"

Le Wuya remained unruffled: "Lord Zheng, I'm completely innocent."

Zheng Miao: "I haven't even asked anything yet—why are you crying foul?"

Le Wuya looked at him with puppy-dog eyes: "My lord, if you called me here, it can't be good news, right?"

Then his eyes lit up: "Could it be you're finally letting me have Captain Wang? This humble official thanks you, my lord! May you live to be a hundred!"

Zheng Miao: "..."

After three exchanges, Zheng Miao felt he'd lost three days of his life from sheer aggravation.

Le Wuya jumped to his feet: "Wang Cheng! Captain Wang, pack your stuff—you're coming with me!"

Their bickering carried all the way out the door.

The constables were used to this by now, and one bold young constable even grinned at Wang Cheng cheekily: "Prefect Wenren still has a thing for Brother Wang, huh?"

Wang Cheng: "..."

He shot a cold glare and shoved his sword into the young constable's arms.

When the prefect summoned him, he had to go—he couldn't play dead.

He pushed open the door and walked in, only to find Zheng Miao throttling Le Wuya.

The two had tumbled into a chair, locked in a scuffle.

Wang Cheng calmly observed the chaos for half a moment, then stepped fully inside, quickly shut the door, and rolled up his sleeves: "Lord Zheng, do you need any help?"

"That's what I love about him!" Le Wuya exclaimed, delighted rather than angry. "See! He'd even hand you a shovel while you're burying a body!"

Zheng Miao's face darkened: "You want him—are you planning to have him help you kill someone?"

"It's a metaphor, a metaphor—do you understand?"

"I don't think it was a metaphor."

Once he confirmed the two lords were merely horsing around, Wang Cheng said no more and stood quietly by.

...Two kids.

The twenty-five-year-old Wang Cheng thought with such maturity.

After the commotion subsided, Zheng Miao straightened his rumpled collar: "Someone has filed a complaint accusing you of embezzling bolts of cloth from the treasury for personal gain. Is this true?"

Le Wuya lounged messily in his seat and took a hot sip of tea: "As I said, I'm completely innocent."