Zhao Chu… deeply attached to him?

Zhao Yu’s words startled Fang Linyuan, who was about to retort but suddenly recalled that Zhao Yu didn’t know Zhao Chu’s true identity.

That’s right, Her Highness the Princess Royal didn’t know Zhao Chu was a man. If she knew this, she surely wouldn’t think that way…

Thinking this, Fang Linyuan paused slightly and looked at Zhao Yu, his lips moving.

Seemingly sensing the hesitation in his expression, Zhao Yu tilted her head slightly and asked, “What is it, General?”

Fang Linyuan shook his head, gave a somewhat stiff smile, and shook his head again. “Nothing. Then I shall take my leave first, Your Highness the Royal Princess.”

After bidding farewell, Fang Linyuan mounted his horse and turned to leave the Sixteenth Guard Division.

Though his back showed no sign of disturbance and his expression was calm, only he knew how the sudden thought that had burst forth made his heart restless and tangled, stiffening his hand on the reins and causing him to snort twice in frustration.

Perhaps… it was not really a sudden thought after all.

He rode far away, but his mind was in turmoil, and that idea lingered stubbornly in his mind.

It was utterly absurd, yet it refused to leave.

Amid the chaotic sound of hooves, it darted back and forth, making Fang Linyuan toss and turn in thought…

Could a man also be deeply attached to another man?

*

When Fang Linyuan returned to the residence, a servant at the gate informed him that the Princess had seen the doctor today, confirmed to be fully recovered, and then had gone to the Jiyue Hall to pay respects; she hadn’t returned yet.

Fang Linyuan went straight to Jiyue Hall.

When he arrived, the hall was preparing dinner; steaming dishes were being placed on the table one by one, the aroma drifting through the courtyard.

The first thing Fang Linyuan saw was Zhao Chu.

He was sitting at the table, talking with his eldest sister-in-law. Though she was blind, she smiled faintly, her eyes quietly watching him, her expression calm yet serious.

Whatever he said seemed to please her, as she covered her mouth to laugh. Zhao Chu smiled along, his brows gently curved, and his gaze happened to meet Fang Linyuan’s.

Fang Linyuan’s heart skipped a beat, and for no reason recalled what Zhao Yu had said earlier.

“Deeply attached…” Those words seemed to have taken root unknowingly in his chest, the roots probing deep inside, tickling.

What was he thinking!

Fang Linyuan suddenly shook his head sharply.

Zhao Yu thought Zhao Chu was a woman—did that mean he also saw Zhao Chu as the opposite sex? It was just that Zhao Chu’s appearance was rather beautiful, and those peach-blossom-like eyes—who wouldn’t get a little affection for them?

Fang Linyuan quickly averted his gaze like fleeing, having forgotten that Zhao Chu’s peach-blossom eyes were famously cold as ice, and that this Fifth Princess was the world’s foremost heartless beauty.

He entered the hall and was immediately greeted with a formal salute by a maid.

Upon hearing him, Song Zhaojin’s eyes curved in a smile. She had the maid seat him and said, “I originally thought Her Highness should rest a few more days after recovering these past two days. But the princess is filial; as soon as the doctor said she was well enough to face the wind, she came straight to Jiyue Hall to see me.”

Fang Linyuan was greeted ans sat down beside Zhao Chu.

“Her Highness is always like this—she cares about you, and you care about her,” he said with a smile to Song Zhaojin.

The maid nearby laughed and said, “The madam worried the princess might have pockmarks, so she asked us to check. We said Her Highness is beautiful, with no trace of pockmarks at all. The madam wouldn’t believe it, saying we were just trying to comfort her.”

Song Zhaojin lightly scolded, “How could I say that? I still have a few boxes of ointment in the storehouse for removing marks. Her Highness just recovered from a serious illness; if needed, we should give it to her quickly.”

She pretended to raise her hand to strike, but the maid playfully blocked her with soft palms and looked up at Fang Linyuan, asking, “Marquis, do you think Her Highness needs our ointment?”

Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but glance at Zhao Chu following the maid’s words.

He saw Zhao Chu quietly turn his face toward him, his gaze calm and deep, a faint smile on his face, and his eyes seeming touched by springtime…

…deeply attached.

What deeply attached! Why hadn’t he thrown this ridiculous phrase far away yet!

Fang Linyuan’s ears reddened, and he replied absentmindedly, unlike his usual ease and laughter with them: “Certainly not necessary; eldest sister-in-law, please rest assured.”

Song Zhaojin nodded, but at that moment, Zhao Chu leaned in and softly asked him, “What’s wrong?”

Fang Linyuan shivered all over.

Zhao Chu’s breath was by his ear, and his soft silk robes flowed around him like river water, gentle yet strong, like the sirens luring fishermen to drown in the sea.

And Zhao Chu’s gaze… was clearly deep and concerned.

Zhao Chu was undistracted, but his own thoughts were a mess, tangled like in a whirlpool, unable to distinguish north from south—how strange indeed!

He swallowed and quietly found an excuse, “...When I left the Guard Command just now, I met Her Highness the Royal Princess.”

“What did she say to you?” Zhao Chu’s brows darkened slightly.

He seemed to think Zhao Yu was bothering him about those deserters, but Fang Linyuan’s heart was clearly in chaos.

She said you’re deeply attached… Fang Linyuan thought, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned his head to look at Zhao Chu.

He seemed to instinctively want to find an answer on Zhao Chu’s face… but it seemed he couldn’t quite look at Zhao Chu directly—just one glance, and it was as if he’d been struck by lightning.

The merfolk in the sea were like this too… It was said that if a fisherman were to look directly into their eyes, he would turn to stone.

Fang Linyuan felt as if he had already turned to stone.

Over on the other side, Changnian sat beside Song Zhaojin, his pair of bright black eyes blinking twice as he looked at them.

The moment Fang Linyuan averted Zhao Chu’s gaze, he met those curious eyes.

He was startled.

He didn’t even know why he felt guilty, but the moment he met Changnian’s eyes, he jerked aside abruptly, as if to distance himself from something.

Yet the more he tried to hide it, the more it made his thoughts appear strange and suspicious…

Fang Linyuan felt a burst of frustration in his heart.

Just then, the food was all served. Song Zhaojin gently invited them to begin eating. Fang Linyuan hurriedly picked up his chopsticks and buried himself in the meal.

He didn’t notice that Zhao Chu, beside him, had momentarily paused his gaze on him before slowly turning away.

He had sharply sensed Fang Linyuan’s avoidance.

*

After that day, as the case investigation went deeper and deeper, several high-ranking officials known for their integrity and spotless reputations were successively implicated. And the faction centered around Sang Zhixin—lower-born officials from Jiangnan—was also unraveled, exposing an astounding web of vested interests.

The exchange of benefits between them was extremely covert; on the surface, they seemed like noble gentlemen whose relationships were as bland as water, yet underneath, there was an entire hidden world.

Fang Linyuan, working in the Guard Division, had seen many of the case files.

It turned out that beyond the official hierarchy they held in public, they had established an entirely separate, strictly ranked network of vested interests.

They used poetry gatherings and scripture discussions as fronts for secret dealings. Gold and silver were hidden inside the ornamental rocks, bonsai, antique curios, and inkstones they exchanged. Sometimes, even a simple brush could be weighed in the hand to tell—this one had a hollow shaft stuffed with silver notes.

The Emperor was furious beyond words. It was said that Minister Sang, kneeling outside the palace, fainted from hunger without ever getting another audience with His Majesty.

A few days later, the first snow of the season fell on the capital, and the Empire of Daxuan ushered into the fifteenth day of the tenth lunar month—the XiaYuan Festival.

(NT: traditional Chinese festival with Taoist roots, dedicated to Shuǐ Guān Dà Dì, the ‘Water Emperor’.)

It was tradition in Daxuan to offer ancestral sacrifices on this day, and all civil and military officials were required to accompany the Emperor in the ritual visit to the ancestral temple.

Fang Linyuan led the Sixteenth Guard Garrison through a full day of intense work, and when night fell, the palace held a grand banquet as was customary.

Fang Linyuan was already somewhat tired. After offering greetings and formalities, and with the feast now underway, he sat idly eating, uninterested in socializing.

The music resounded with glory and peace, and the grand feast was a lively affair of clinking cups and flowing wine. Yet Zhao Chu, seated beside him, said nothing and silently peeled grapes—amid the noisy bustle, there was a rare sense of peace between the two of them.

At that moment, Zhao Chu leaned slightly toward him, placed a peeled grape in his hand, and whispered, “Look.”

Fang Linyuan followed his gaze toward the raised platform.

He saw Sang Zhixin, who had come to attend the feast, now raising his wine cup and walking toward the Emperor.

Fang Linyuan’s heart skipped slightly. He turned to Zhao Chu. “Does he have something he plans to say during tonight’s palace banquet?”

Zhao Chu didn’t answer. Instead, he tapped lightly with his fingertip on Fang Linyuan’s hand—the one holding the grape.

Fang Linyuan paused faintly.

Since that day, he always felt somewhat awkward around Zhao Chu, mostly due to his own impure thoughts.

However, the Guard Command had kept him busy—leaving early and returning late every day—and after several days, the awkwardness had more or less dissipated.

Now, under Zhao Chu’s gaze, he seemed to want to make amends and stuffed the grape into his mouth all at once.

A burst of sweetness filled his senses.

He couldn’t help but smile at Zhao Chu. He was about to say something when he suddenly remembered what Zhao Chu had pointed out earlier—and quickly turned his head back.

On the high platform, Emperor Hongyou was chatting and laughing with Saihan.

Come to think of it, tonight’s palace banquet truly had an undercurrent of tension and drama.

Though the feast was lively on the surface, the recent major scandal in the court gave the entire affair a faint chill of fear—everyone seemed on edge. Even Emperor Hongyou himself wore few smiles tonight.

Only the Imperial Consort Yu from the Turkic lands—now newly promoted to Noble Consort Yu—was able to elicit even a trace of the Emperor’s favor.

Since entering the palace, her favor had never waned. She was in the spotlight, unmatched by any. Just half a month ago, her pregnancy had been discovered, and she had been granted an exceptional promotion by the Emperor.

Now, throughout the entire palace, everyone was avoiding her sharp edge. And sitting beside her, Empress Jiang Hongluan’s expression grew increasingly stiff each time she looked at her. It was said that the two had long been at odds, and now even her usual gentle smile could no longer be maintained.

The Empress, after all, had once been deeply favored herself since entering the palace. Now, into this once harmonious and well-matched imperial couple, a stunning foreign beauty had suddenly been inserted—it was hard not to look twice.

Fang Linyuan’s eyes, however, were entirely on Sang Zhixin.

He and Sang Zhixin had barely interacted, yet this Vice Minister’s reputation was well-known to all. For someone to navigate the court so dexterously for so many years, he naturally had his own strengths. But now that the game was lost and the situation deadlocked—what would he do?

A vague thrill stirred in Fang Linyuan, like the feeling of reading a military strategy manual. He watched as Sang Zhixin knelt upright before the high platform and called out loudly, “Long live the Emperor.”

Emperor Hongyou stopped laughing mid-conversation, and the entire grand hall went so still that a pin could be heard dropping.

After a moment, the faint smile on his face faded slightly. With a half-smile, half-not, he said, “Beloved Minister, rise. If it’s just a toast you’ve come to offer, then that will do.
I’ve already had a few drinks today—beyond my limit—I truly can’t take another from you.”

This was an extremely ungracious response. Even Fang Linyuan felt a jolt in his heart—thinking Sang Zhixin’s situation had reached a point of no return.

But then Sang Zhixin stood up, spine perfectly straight.

He had risen young and talented, serving for many years now as a close minister to the Emperor, yet was only just past fifty.

His posture remained upright and imposing, though after days of tribulation, streaks of silver were now threaded through his once-black hair, making him look visibly worn.

“If His Majesty cannot drink,” Sang Zhixin said, “then this minister shall not offer wine to the throne.”

“But today is the XiaoYuan Festival, a day to honor our ancestors—Taizu and Taizong above. I, your humble servant, still wish to toast His Majesty: may your empire last ten thousand years, with heirs to succeed for generations.”

Saying this, he raised his cup high. “I ask that Your Majesty accept this humble subject’s blessing.”

Emperor Hongyou gazed at him for a moment, then gave a cold chuckle.

“My dear minister has been in office for many years,” he said, “surely he understands better than I do— this ‘ten-thousand-year empire’ of mine… is not something that comes from blessings or prayers.”

From his elevated position, he lowered his gaze and looked down at Sang Zhixin. After a pause, he continued slowly, his words full of implication: “First and foremost, we must clean out the termites in this court, don’t you agree?”

He went on: “Otherwise—if wind and ants corrode the foundation— then no matter how vast the mountains and rivers, how many more years can they sustain such a swarm of parasites?”

As he said this, he suddenly flung his wine cup onto the table.

Clang!
The sound startled even Fang Linyuan.

 

--

Author’s Note:

Fang Linyuan: (Excitedly skipping past palace intrigue to watch the programme “The Daxuan Dynasty”)

Zhao Chu: (Watching Fang Linyuan) He ate the grape I peeled… He looked at the person I pointed out… Is he… not avoiding me anymore…?

(Some people, themselves, are an entire palace drama.)

 

Translator : DarNan