Fang Linyuan followed Zhao Chu’s gaze and looked down at the book he had covered with his hand.

He jumped in shock on the spot.

He had only casually pulled out a book without thinking—but hadn’t expected that he’d grabbed that book.

Fang Linyuan didn’t even remember how that book ended up in his possession. He vaguely recalled that it might’ve been from a distant female cousin who had stayed over years ago. After finishing the book, afraid her elders would discover it, she had asked him to hide it for her…

“I… it’s not…”

For a moment, Fang Linyuan didn’t even know whether he should explain where the book had come from first, or why he was holed up in his study avoiding actual paperwork.

He looked uneasily at Zhao Chu, wishing he could shove both himself and that book into a drawer and disappear.

Zhao Chu’s expression clearly held curiosity.

But for some reason, Fang Linyuan also saw a trace of unexpected softness behind that probing look.

He must really have let lust cloud his mind (NT: idiom meaning be blinded by desire)—what was he thinking?

At that moment, Fang Linyuan felt both ashamed and guilty. Yet the instant he laid eyes on Zhao Chu again, he couldn’t help but feel stunned all over again by his beauty.

Yes… he was in a pitiful state—but at least his taste had never been wrong.

He stammered, unable to find his words, and watched as Zhao Chu lowered his gaze, opened the food box in front of him, and took out a plate of soft, fragrant pastries.

“I heard from the attendants at Fuguang Pavilion that you still haven’t had dinner,” Zhao Chu said calmly. “Have something first. If you upset your stomach from skipping meals, you’ll suffer for it.”

Forget upsetting my stomach—why don’t you cut open my chest and take a look? Even my heart’s ruined.

Fang Linyuan’s guilt nearly reached a breaking point.

He was the one harboring improper thoughts about Zhao Chu and avoiding him out of guilt, yet Zhao Chu not only didn’t suspect anything, he was still concerned for his health.

Just then, Zhao Chu reached out and tugged on Fang Linyuan’s sleeve, guiding him to the cushioned seat by the window.

Fang Linyuan’s bones had already gone soft—he let himself be led over, sat obediently down, and was even handed a piece of pastry by Zhao Chu.

Zhao Chu then sat opposite him, picked up the teapot, and began to pour tea.

As the sound of flowing water filled the room, moonlight spilled through the window, bathing Zhao Chu’s shoulders and hair. His lashes were lit up like translucent dragonfly wings.

Those delicate wings trembled lightly—fluttering right over Fang Linyuan’s heart.

If it was truly someone like this—someone he could never attain—then even if he could only guard the borderlands for the rest of his life out of unrequited love, it would be worth it.

But to become a ruler… one would inevitably have a harem. And he, being so one-sided in his feelings, had no right to expect Zhao Chu to give all that up for him…

Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but feel bitter.

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled when Zhao Chu handed him a cup of tea. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Absentmindedly reaching for it, Fang Linyuan’s fingers brushed against Zhao Chu’s—cold and smooth like jade.

He startled violently.

Snatching his hand back, he accidentally knocked over the teacup.

The cup tipped, and the scalding tea was about to spill across the back of his hand—when a cool hand quickly wrapped around his and flipped it over, blocking the hot liquid with its own skin.

That hand, pale and translucent, turned an instant shade of red.

Fang Linyuan panicked. He jumped up and pulled Zhao Chu’s hand toward him. “You’re burned! Does it hurt? I’ll call someone—”

But another hand came to rest lightly on his wrist.

He looked down—and saw Zhao Chu looking up at him, his bright and clear eyes quietly watching.

“You’re avoiding me,” Zhao Chu said.

“I…” Fang Linyuan was at a complete loss.

The bright moonlight reflected in those eyes, like spring water rippling softly.

Even injured, with the back of his hand red from the burn, Zhao Chu’s eyes were unwavering, filled with a subtle sense of grievance—like a puppy that had been left behind.

Fang Linyuan’s heart clenched tightly in pain. “I didn’t…” he said. “It’s not what you think, I…”

He swallowed with difficulty, then softened his tone like coaxing a child. “Let’s get a doctor to check your hand first, alright?”

But Zhao Chu still just stared at him.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

Why…? If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll…

… I’ll end up not being able to do anything either.

His mind was completely blank—how could he possibly think of what he could do?

After a moment, Fang Linyuan admitted defeat. He conceded, "I wasn’t avoiding you, I just…"

Just what? Just hiding alone in the study, burying himself in Romance of the Western Chamber, neglecting sleep and meals?

Fang Linyuan couldn’t bring himself to say the rest.

Fortunately, Zhao Chu seemed like someone easy to appease.

He didn’t seem to press for the second half of Fang Linyuan’s sentence. As soon as he received affirmation, he obediently released Fang Linyuan’s hand.

"Good then," he simply said. "I’m fine. The tea had been sitting for a while, it wasn’t that hot."

Fang Linyuan let out a long breath of relief. But even so, he didn’t dare stay alone with Zhao Chu in the study any longer.

Zhao Chu was like a spirit, seducing him at every moment.

"Still, it’s safer to have a doctor take a look," Fang Linyuan said. "If not, then maybe Miss Juansu. Is she outside? I’ll go get her."

As he spoke, not waiting for Zhao Chu’s reply, he rose as if fleeing and hurried out of the study.

He didn’t look back, and thus did not see the glimmering foxfire dancing in Zhao Chu’s peach blossom eyes as he lifted his gaze.

His judgment had clearly faltered.

Otherwise, after spending day after day with Zhao Chu, how could he not have realized that this thousand-year-old fox spirit was anything but fragile and innocent?

*

Three days later, the palace’s Longevity Banquet was held with unprecedented grandeur.

Emperor Hongyou ’s fiftieth birthday coincided with the eighteen cities of Longxi being reclaimed by Daxuan, the Turkic khanate sending a princess to the capital for marriage, and a year of timely wind and rain. The national treasury was full, all borders were stable, and envoys from all nations came to pay tribute—it truly was a scene of prosperity.

Such a grand birthday was, of course, to be celebrated in splendid style.

Fang Linyuan still attended the banquet together with Zhao Chu.

Speaking of these past few days, Fang Linyuan had been living on a knife’s edge, walking with such caution that he was even more anxious than during the years when the Turks had been eyeing the borders for invasion.

His situation was indeed difficult.

He couldn’t let Zhao Chu feel like he was avoiding him, but he also had to bury his one-sided affection deep and secure—caught between two impossibilities, it was like being pushed onto a rope stretched over a cliff.

Thankfully, these three days had passed without incident.

Zhao Chu’s scalded hand hadn’t been a serious injury, and after returning from the office each day, Fang Linyuan still went to Zhao Chu’s to share a meal. He managed not to let Zhao Chu notice any avoidance.

And so, he endured until this day.

At the Hongyou Emperor’s Longevity Banquet, all civil and military officials and noble families turned out in full ceremonial dress. Fang Linyuan changed into his thick and trailing marquis’ court robes, while Zhao Chu wore a dazzling, ornate crown of Eastern pearls and a ceremonial gown with a long train of embroidered phoenixes.

The last time they had been dressed so formally was at their grand wedding.

At the time, he had been so stunned by the man beneath the bridal veil that he hadn’t even noticed what Zhao Chu looked like in full clothing. There was no need to mention how stunning Zhao Chu’s features were; in such majestic costume, he looked as if he were carved from pearls and jade, like a golden sculpture of a blooming peony.

But what Fang Linyuan admired even more was Zhao Chu’s extraordinary willpower.

The princess’s phoenix crown was especially gorgeous and extravagant—but also incomparably heavy.

They accompanied the emperor from early morning to offer sacrifices to Heaven and their ancestors. The lengthy and solemn rituals did not conclude until dusk. By then, even the officials dressed far more lightly were pale-faced and swaying on their feet. Yet Zhao Chu’s back remained straight, his steps steady, and even the jeweled crown atop his head did not sway in the slightest with his movements.

Fang Linyuan, watching from the side, felt exhausted just on his behalf.

So, once they arrived at the banquet in the Chonghua Hall, Fang Linyuan turned slightly and said to Zhao Chu, “I see many of the ladies have gone to change. You should go get into something more comfortable too.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chu paused in thought for a moment, then gave a slight nod to Fang Linyuan.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his gaze lightly sweeping toward a direction not far away. “If anyone gives you trouble, just ignore them.”

Fang Linyuan followed his gaze.

That direction was precisely where the foreign delegations were seated. At the end of Zhao Chu’s line of sight, the Goryeo envoys, dressed in their robes and black gauze hats, were chatting and laughing.

And seated among them, Li Minshun was staring straight at Zhao Chu without the slightest attempt to hide it.

Greedy, covetous—like he was sizing up an exquisite object.

Fang Linyuan frowned and subtly shifted his body, stepping into the line of sight to block him.

“Go on,” he said to Zhao Chu.

*

Zhao Chu’s changing room was in a side hall not far from the Chonghua Hall.

When attending banquets, the servants were required to prepare at least three sets of alternate gowns for him. For such an important court banquet today, Juansu had specially prepared five.

Handing the gowns and hair ornaments to Zhao Chu, Juansu and the others stepped outside the hall to wait.

Zhao Chu changed quickly.

In less than a quarter of an hour, he had already changed into a full new set of robes and accessories and had touched up his makeup. The figure in the mirror moved with swift precision, expression cold—but in just moments, transformed into a look of dazzling elegance.

He didn’t spare the mirror another glance. Standing up, he pushed open the door and left the side hall.

Juansu immediately and efficiently ordered the accompanying palace maids to gather Zhao Chu’s crown and formal robes, telling them to deliver them to the subordinates of the marquis’s household. She then followed Zhao Chu toward the Chonghua Hall.

But unexpectedly, just as they stepped out of the side hall courtyard and turned a corner, they came face to face with a man.

Around them, trees and shrubs stood bare, their branches stripped for the winter, yet thick white snow lay atop them, creating a world of misty ice and frost.

Beyond the snow, the layered jade-green tiles and flying eaves of the palace buildings glittered with radiant light—and standing before them was Li Minshun in brocade robes.

He smiled, looking at Zhao Chu. “Your Highness the Princess. It’s been many years—are you still well?”

Zhao Chu’s brows drew together slightly as he looked at him.

This was a brainless beast—but one that could not yet be killed.

Four years ago, he had seen Li Minshun during Empress Dowager Dou’s mourning ceremony.

At the time, Zhao Chu had still been underage by Goryeo standards, but Li Minshun had already come of age and received his ceremonial crown.

Even then, Li Minshun had stared at him like this, unabashedly. Later, he had cornered him outside a rear hall and asked whether he wanted to become the Seventh Prince’s consort of Goryeo—the future queen of Goryeo.

At that time, Empress Dowager Dou’s coffin still lay in the hall just a wall away.

Zhao Chu had been brimming with murderous intent. If he hadn’t feared that this beast’s filthy blood would pollute Empress Dowager Dou’s passage to the afterlife, he would’ve skinned him alive, one slice at a time—forcing him to watch, screaming, as Zhao Chu crushed his bones into powder.

But now, Zhao Chu no longer thought of killing him that way.

Because to him now, there were far too many ways Li Minshun could die.

Zhao Chu shot him a cold glance, then lowered his eyes and said nothing, brushing past him and heading directly for the Chonghua Hall.

He hadn’t expected Li Minshun to suddenly raise an arm and block his way.

“What are you doing?” Juansu immediately stepped forward, positioning herself between Zhao Chu and Li Minshun.

Li Minshun looked at her.

Another pretty woman—though standing next to her master, she seemed somewhat plain. Still, she might barely pass as a concubine.

His gaze swept over Juansu once, then—meeting her increasingly furious expression—he turned and smiled at Zhao Chu.

He fancied this smile to be suave and gallant. After all, in all of Goryeo, no woman dared not praise him in this way.

“Your Highness the Princess, what I promised you four years ago still holds true today,” Li Minshu said to Zhao Chu.

He dared to bring up what happened four years ago?

Zhao Chu’s gaze turned a few degrees colder.

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied in a mild voice.

But Li Minshu continued to stare at him intently. “I’m not joking with you. Your Highness the Princess, the chance to become queen isn’t something just anyone gets. And yet I’ve offered it to you—twice.”

“Our Highness is already married. Show some respect,” Juansu rebuked sharply.

“Yes,” Li Minshu gave a light laugh and fixed his eyes on Zhao Chu. “Surely Your Highness isn’t content being married off to a commoner? Our Goryeo might not be a vast empire, but even so, the difference between a minister’s wife and the queen of a nation—surely Your Highness can still tell the difference.”

Zhao Chu had run out of patience.

He couldn’t even be bothered to waste more words on Li Minshu. His eyes lowered, and he didn’t spare the man a single glance.

“Step aside,” he said.

Li Minshu seemed caught off guard by his bluntness. …What did you say?” he asked.

“I told you to get the hell out of here.”

This time, Zhao Chu lifted his eyes and said it calmly, his tone detached and even.

Li Minshu’s eyes widened, and he involuntarily took a step back.

His silent, ethereal dream woman… actually spoke such vulgar words?

But after that brief moment of shock, he quickly understood the look in Zhao Chu’s eyes. It wasn’t vulgarity. In those eyes, there was undisguised disgust and revulsion—along with a haughty, contemptuous disdain from high above.

The noble and exalted Li Minshu had never suffered such humiliation—especially not in front of a woman.

He flew into a rage almost instantly.

“I only looked at you because you’ve got a pretty face—did you really think you were worthy of me speaking to you nicely?” he spat angrily. “So what if you’re a princess? Everyone knows the Emperor of Da Xuan despises this daughter of his. The miserable spawn of a jealous consort, and a woman who’s already been married once—if I’m willing to take you, a second-hand bride, that’s already mercy on my part! What do you think you are?!”

Under Zhao Chu’s indifferent gaze, he ranted furiously.

“With that vixen face, seducing men left and right—still pretending to be some ice-pure jade—ah!”

The next instant, he was sent stumbling by a brutal kick.

But before he could fall, someone grabbed the back of his collar and hauled him up like a chicken, spun him around, and seized him by the front of his robe.

He came face to face with Fang Linyuan’s expression—cold as ice—and the fist clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white, suspended just inches in front of his face.

“What did you say about her? Say it again.”

*

Fang Linyuan’s reason was nearly consumed by roaring fury.

After Zhao Chu had left, he’d seen Li Minshu follow closely behind and had grown concerned. He’d trailed them from a distance, and near the wooded path by the side hall, hidden under the trees, he heard Li Minshu spit his foul words at Zhao Chu.

This creature, filthy in both desire and soul—craving what he couldn’t have—had turned to such vile slander once rejected.

What right did he have to insult Zhao Chu like that?

Fang Linyuan’s fist trembled in the air, brimming with barely restrained strength. If it landed, Li Minshu would lose at least three teeth.

Li Minshu was nearly off the ground from the grip on his collar, forced to tiptoe as he trembled uncontrollably.

“You… you dare!” he still tried to bluster.

Fang Linyuan said nothing, but his fist dropped with the force of a hammer, whistling through the air.

Li Minshu squeezed his eyes shut in terror.

But the next moment, the wind stopped.

The expected pain never arrived. Shaking, he slowly opened his eyes—and saw the fist halted just two inches from his face.

A hand—smooth and fair as jade—was holding Fang Linyuan’s wrist.

It was Zhao Chu. He had stepped forward and placed a hand on Fang Linyuan’s arm.

He actually didn’t use much strength.

But Zhao Chu’s breath was right beside him. Without the barrier of fabric, his palm rested directly on Fang Linyuan’s wrist, gently holding it.

Fang Linyuan turned his head and saw Zhao Chu giving a slight shake of his head.

He immediately understood—Zhao Chu was telling him that if he really hit someone here, it would leave a mark, and things wouldn’t end well at a birthday banquet.

Fang Linyuan clenched his teeth and withdrew his fist. Zhao Chu also let go of the hand holding his wrist.

Li Minshu visibly let out a breath of relief.

But just as his feet touched the ground again, Fang Linyuan suddenly stepped forward and landed a heavy punch squarely into his abdomen.

Li Minshu instantly retched, unable to even cry out in pain.

When he looked up again, he saw Fang Linyuan expressionless, eyes lowered as he stared down at him, then tossed him aside like trash.

“Get lost.”

This was the same General Fang who just two days earlier, on the streets of Shangjing, had looked at him with a gentle smile even amid provocation. But now, under the night sky, his expression was as cold as a demon god.

He flexed his wrist with calm indifference, joints cracking as he loosened the hand that had delivered the punch.

And beside him, the stunningly beautiful woman—cold, aloof, as icy as ever—was now smiling faintly. Yet the smile was like a ghost behind a tiger, its fangs dripping poison.

“After you return, you’d best be clear on what can and cannot be said,” she said.

“If you really want to tear off the last shred of courtesy, then I wouldn’t mind telling the entire court and the foreign envoys that you publicly called His Majesty’s child a miserable spawn. Let’s see how His Majesty feels about that.”

*

Li Minshu run away in disgrace.

Of course, he didn’t dare say another word. Even if Fang Linyuan hitting him earned a reprimand, if he truly angered the Emperor of Daxuan at his birthday banquet…

Daxuan wouldn’t even need to send troops. Just withdrawing the alliance treaty would be enough for Goryeo to be torn apart by the steppe tribes within days.

Once he was gone, only three people remained. Zhao Chu tilted his head slightly, and Juansu quickly gave a bow and walked away at a brisk pace.

Only Zhao Chu and Fang Linyuan were left facing each other.

Fang Linyuan hadn’t even calmed his breath yet.

Striking a foreign envoy had been impulsive. But if given the chance again…

If Zhao Chu hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve broken Li Minshu’s front teeth.

He lowered his gaze, exhaling deeply, trying to quell the raging anger inside while a flicker of delayed anxiety crept in.

Would Zhao Chu find his behavior odd?

After all… if there were no personal feelings involved, he really shouldn’t have reacted so strongly…

But just then, his lowered eyes caught sight of Zhao Chu’s gold-threaded brocade hem trailing beside him.

Before he could even look up, he was pulled into Zhao Chu’s cool, scent-laced embrace.

“All right,” Zhao Chu’s voice sounded in his ear, soft and soothing.

It was a faint, ethereal fragrance, but it swept through him with wild, overwhelming force.

Love and panic surged in his heart all at once.

Fang Linyuan immediately tried to pull away from Zhao Chu. But Zhao Chu’s arms held him tightly. He struggled twice, but couldn’t break free.

When he finally looked up again, he was already stumbling over his words.

“I’m not…” His heart was pounding.

“It’s just that I… you’re a very good person, and I couldn’t stand hearing him insult you like that…”

But the rest of his words disappeared in his throat.

In the moonlight, he met Zhao Chu’s eyes—dark and deep as a bottomless pool.

“I’m not a good person,” Zhao Chu said. “I’ve never been one. From the very first day you met me, you should’ve known that.”

Fang Linyuan stared blankly at him, only managing to speak after a long moment. “But you… you treat me so well…”

The next second, he saw Zhao Chu raise a hand to block the moonlight falling into his eyes.

Under his gently rippling gaze, his cool fingertips lightly brushed aside a stray lock of Fang Linyuan’s hair.

Moonlight on snow. Gold and jade like stacked mountains.

“Is it really so hard to guess why?” Zhao Chu asked him.

 

--

Author’s Note:

Zhao Chu: It’s an open-book exam. No way you’d get it wrong, right?

Fang Linyuan: (heart pounding) (mind blank) (staring dazedly at Zhao Chu, forgetting to pick up his pen)

 

 

Translator : DarNan