Fang Linyuan’s ears suddenly flushed red.

…What was there to think about! Since yesterday until now, the two of them had only failed to see each other while sleeping—what was there to miss?

Yet under Zhao Chu’s gaze, his fingers twitched slightly, as if belatedly sensing a strange thrill.

With only the two of them facing each other, no one else around, the attraction from Zhao Chu spread like flowing water in the narrow space, from body to soul.

He seemed to want to draw closer to Zhao Chu; the impulse came from instinct.

Then, in the next moment, Zhao Chu’s breath enveloped him from all directions.

He was pressed again into Zhao Chu’s embrace.

A faint, almost inaudible sigh came from above—Zhao Chu, holding him gently yet restrained, letting out a quiet breath.

Fang Linyuan’s body softened with that sigh, even his hands uncontrollably wanting to climb up Zhao Chu’s back.

He gently grasped the fabric of Zhao Chu’s clothing at his waist.

This subtle movement caused Zhao Chu to lower his head to look at him.

Those eyes were deep, with a slight chill falling with his glance.

Fang Linyuan’s shoulders tensed, but luckily, by lowering his head, he could hide into the hollow of Zhao Chu’s shoulder.

…This posture was admittedly a little lacking in dignity.

But having been caught off guard and seized the advantage with such a light touch, Fang Linyuan had no time to care about such details. As for the matter of husband and wife…

That could wait a couple of days.

His evasive move drew a soft smile from Zhao Chu, then a gentle hand fell on the back of Fang Linyuan’s head, stroking his hair like petting a cat, one stroke after another.

Being held by Zhao Chu, immersed in the breath invading from all directions, was indeed a drowsily pleasant feeling.

“…You still haven’t said what’s going on in the palace.”

With his eyes faintly closed, Fang Linyuan’s voice murmured from Zhao Chu’s embrace.

Zhao Chu’s hand in his hair paused slightly.

Then Fang Linyuan felt him lower his head a bit, speaking softly.

“It’s a big matter.” he said. “Before you hear it, promise me, okay? For the next few days, follow my arrangements; don’t concern yourself with anything else.”

Fang Linyuan was nearly falling asleep under the enticing, coaxing tone.

At this moment, under Zhao Chu’s beguiling voice, Fang Linyuan nodded drowsily a few times and said, “I promise you, go ahead.”

*

What Zhao Chu said next instantly jolted Fang Linyuan awake.

“The Third Prince?” he suddenly climbed out of Zhao Chu’s embrace. “How could the Third Prince suddenly raise troops in rebellion?!”

Zhao Chu’s brow flickered slightly, his hand wrapped around Fang Linyuan’s shoulder gently patting him.

“It’s only a rumor that came in like that.” he said. “He neither holds military power nor has a chance of success. Even if he raised the banner, no one would dare to respond.”

Fang Linyuan barely breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s good…” he said, loosening the strength in his arms that were supporting his body. “How did such a ridiculous rumor spread? It even reached His Majesty’s ears.”

Zhao Chu holding him made a soft ‘hum’, then gently withdrew one of Fang Linyuan’s supporting hands, pulling him back into his embrace.

While holding him, he smoothly clasped that hand in his palm, lightly pinching and playing with it.

“He did move some troops, borrowed ones, used to escort some important evidence.” Zhao Chu said. “He’s traveling by water and will reach the capital in a few days. When that happens, whether it’s treason or not, the emperor will see it with his own eyes.”

Fang Linyuan’s hand was pinched until it went numb, even ticklish in a tempting way.

But his attention was caught by the matter at hand, so he didn’t pull his hand away and instead asked, “What evidence is so urgent that it has to be sent back to the capital? Why escort it with troops?”

Zhao Chu lowered his eyes slightly, speaking casually, as if all his attention was on separating Fang Linyuan’s fingers one by one, then fitting his own hand firmly inside, holding tightly.

“It’s nothing important.” Zhao Chu said lightly. “Just evidence that can bring down the Empress, along with the Ninth Prince.”

*

That very night, Zhao Jin did indeed, by a mixture of threats and bribes, obtain five hundred sailors and six large ships from the Suzhou garrison commander.

All were sturdy, battle-ready vessels, virtually impregnable.

“His Majesty’s bloodline has fallen outside the capital. This prince must escort it back immediately. If even the slightest mishap occurs on the journey, can your worthless life possibly atone for it?!”

As the Suzhou commander hesitated, Zhao Jin angrily rebuked him.

The officials traveling south were awakened in the middle of the night, confused and unaware of the situation; all they knew was that after getting drunk today, the Third Prince had gone to the Suzhou military camp in the middle of night demanding ships and soldiers.

The accompanying officials were not united in purpose. A few scattered officials loyal to the Third Prince pleaded in vain. The Yuan Sang faction officials who forcibly joined the group silently watched the commotion. As for Yuan Honglang, the leader, he had barely uttered two words of counsel before somehow angering the Third Prince, who pressed a precious sword to his neck, silencing him completely.

Later, it was a clerk close to the Third Prince who privately spoke gently to the Suzhou commander.

“The Third Prince has said it is to escort His Majesty’s bloodline back to the capital. It is only reasonable for you to dispatch some troops for the escort,” the clerk said.

“But… whether this bloodline is genuine or not, sir, neither you nor I can be sure,” the commander hesitated.

“You are confused, General,” the clerk replied. “If the bloodline is real, then neither you nor I can afford any mishap. But even if it is false, it was the Third Prince who solemnly vouched for it. Even if His Majesty were to blame someone, he would not punish you, General.”

The commander thought it over and indeed found reason in those words.

Only then did he reluctantly allocate ships and sailors for the Third Prince’s use.

Zhao Jin didn’t even glance at him. Once he had the men and ships, he led the troops along with the entire Jiang family—old and young—onto the ships, setting off northward along the canal in a grand procession.

Left behind were the officials and the commander, exchanging stunned looks as they hastened to relay the news to the emperor.

Suzhou was thrown into chaos.

And Emperor Hongyou, who received an urgent report, was not much better.

The message returned to the capital was urgent but vague, making the situation seem even more pressing:

[The Third Prince forcibly seized troops and ships in Suzhou and is heading for the capital; the cause is unknown.]

Hongyou Emperor nearly coughed up blood in rage at this single line.

Private troop mobilization, marching toward the capital!

What was the difference between this and rebellion? But if it was rebellion, without any sign or reason—was Zhao Jin mad?

The emperor immediately issued an order, commanding the governors and commanders along the route to dispatch troops to intercept him, making sure to stop Zhao Jin before he reached the capital.

To guard against any mishap, the emperor summoned Empress Jiang to the inner palace, ordering her to quickly send the envoys out of the capital within two days to prevent scandal from spreading.

A short while later, the emperor thought of something else and secretly dispatched a team of imperial guards to head south immediately to investigate the reasons behind Zhao Jin’s sudden rebellion.

After all this, Emperor Hongyou was already exhausted. Yet he still didn’t stop, not even taking a sip of tea.

One after another, eunuchs carrying imperial edicts hurried out, while the emperor paced back and forth like a trapped beast in the study.

From the capital to Suzhou, even at full gallop, it took a whole day.

Too slow… This agonizing waiting was utterly tormenting. Moreover, Emperor Hongyou was a man prone to heavy thoughts and worries.

Hands behind his back, his mind couldn’t help but fret. If the imperial guards failed to investigate the cause in time, he would lose the initiative and lose control of what would happen next. If Zhao Jin was not stopped by officials and soldiers along the way and broke into the capital, wouldn’t his own offspring become a public laughingstock?

He barely had any sons to begin with and could not bear such turmoil…

The emperor ate almost nothing all day.

It wasn’t until midnight that a sudden urgent report came from the palace gates, brought by Yuan Honglang’s men racing from the south.

They had ridden so hard that three to five horses had died on the way before finally delivering the report to the capital.

At that time, Emperor Hongyou had just gone to bed.

In a panic, he didn’t even change his nightclothes, quickly put on his shoes and cloak to meet the messenger.

The messenger handed the report into his trembling hands. The emperor opened it and saw only a few sparse lines that already made cold sweat break out on his forehead.

[Last night, the Third Prince privately met with the former Imperial Medical Court judge Liao Cai, and after receiving a private gift from him, proceeded to the barracks and mobilized troops toward the capital.

Your humble servant is incompetent, does not know what Liao Cai gave, nor was able to dissuade the Third Prince. I pray this letter is of use to Your Majesty. Humbly bowing from afar, wishing Your Majesty safety.]

The emperor’s hands holding the letter trembled uncontrollably.

“Liao Cai… Liao Cai is dead!”

He almost lost his reason in anger, shouting at Huang Wei beside him.

The eunuchs and palace maids knelt all over the study floor; even Huang Wei himself was trembling on the ground, saying, “This… the imperial guards’ work never fails!”

“Immediately summon Lin Zizhuo to the palace! His negligence has left me such a huge mess!”

Huang Wei kowtowed and hurriedly retreated, crawling away.

Emperor Hongyou clenched the letter tightly; under the flickering lamplight, his eyes were bloodshot.

No wonder… no wonder his good son had grown wings and dared to lead troops into the capital to confront him!

Having met with Liao Cai, he must have learned about the incident with Consort Qing back then…

No wonder this usually reckless and foolish but clever child really dared to rebel with soldiers!

But could the past be blamed on him? Whether that child lived or died, as the supreme ruler, couldn’t he make that decision? The child’s arrival was ill-timed; he took painful action, but it was because he pitied and loved Consort Qing that he hid it from her somewhat.

Wasn’t it to spare her the heartbreak over that unborn child?

It was she… she who disobeyed the imperial edict, she who didn’t take her medicine properly…

And now her son even dared to come looking for trouble with him!

But this kid was truly young, his thoughts too simple. A mere handful of troops—could that really be enough to challenge his father, the emperor?

How naive!

Emperor Hongyou took a deep breath. A single thin piece of paper was like a thin, sharp blade cutting through the decades of father-son affection between him and this child.

His pupils trembled uncontrollably.

No… it wasn’t just the father-son bond. Right now, he shouldn’t even be thinking about something like familial affection.

The most pressing matter at hand—the absolute priority—was making sure this incident never became public.

If word spread throughout the court and the empire that he had murdered a concubine and poisoned his own offspring, how could he possibly keep his seat on the dragon throne?

He had ruled for many years and was praised by the world as a benevolent and virtuous ruler. He could not allow that reputation to be destroyed by this affair, could not let imperial authority be shaken, and even more so, could not let this stain his legacy in the official histories, dragging his name through the mud…

Compared to that, what were kinship or charges of treason worth?

Emperor Hongyou took a deep breath. After a moment, he crushed the letter in his hand into a ball and tore it to shreds.

“Someone come,” he said.

“Go to the Marquis of Anping’s manor. Summon General Fang Linyuan to the palace.”

*

But he could not summon Fang Linyuan.

Because Fang Linyuan had fallen seriously ill—gravely so.

The eunuch who delivered the summons even brought an imperial physician along. They reported it was a sudden, acute illness, like a mountain collapsing or a snowstorm burying him—a scorching high fever. It seemed he had shared a bed with the princess before she had fully recovered from smallpox and had been infected.

The eunuch and physician returned empty-handed. The Emperor had no other options and in the end had to summon the Director of the Eastern Depot, Shi Shen, into the palace. What orders he gave him remained unknown.

As for the gravely ill General Fang, he could only remain in the Huaiju Pavilion to recuperate.

This was the first time Fang Linyuan had slept in Zhao Chu’s bed.

The bedding lacked his’ softness—stiff and firm, like the bedrolls used in the army.

Since it was publicly claimed he had smallpox, no one was allowed in except for a few close attendants like Juansu, and Zhao Chu himself, who now sat at the bedside.

Zhao Chu raised his hand and gently placed it on Fang Linyuan’s forehead.

It was burning hot, so scalding it was alarming.

“It’s fine.” Perhaps because Zhao Chu looked too cold, Fang Linyuan managed a smile from the bed, speaking to reassure him.

“This is just a way to dodge the storm, right? Miss Juansu said herself, with her medicine, there’d be nothing more than a high fever—no other symptoms. I’ll be fine in three days.”

This was indeed a plan he and Zhao Chu had devised together.

Zhao Chu didn’t detail all his schemes and calculations, but he had clearly told Fang Linyuan that regardless of the deeper truth, in a few days, there would inevitably be a major confrontation between Emperor Hongyou and the Third Prince.

Whatever the outcome, for Fang Linyuan—a court official—to get caught up in matters concerning the imperial heirs was tantamount to gambling with his life.

So from the start, Zhao Chu’s plan was for Fang Linyuan to stay in his manor and ride out the storm.

But making the act real was Fang Linyuan’s insistence.

At first, he truly wanted to make himself sick out in the snow. If Zhao Chu hadn’t dragged him back, he probably would have really brought on a severe fever.

“When he summons you, he’ll be in too much of a hurry to verify whether you’re truly sick.” Zhao Chu had pulled him back while shutting the door against the biting wind and bundling Fang Linyuan tightly in warm robes.

“There are ways to fool them.”

“It’s just a fever—if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it thoroughly and not take unnecessary risks.” Fang Linyuan still insisted.

They argued back and forth for a while, until Fang Linyuan reached out and tugged on Zhao Chu’s sleeve. “I’ve never lied to the Emperor before,” he said. “If I’ve claimed to be ill, then I need to really be ill—that way I’ll have peace of mind.”

At that, his bright, black eyes looked up at Zhao Chu. “Otherwise, I fear I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”

Only then did Zhao Chu relent under his gaze, albeit reluctantly. “There’s medicine that can do it,” he sighed. “But just this once. Never again.”

Only then did Fang Linyuan settle in to truly fall ill.

It was only a fever, after all. When the dizziness and heat became overwhelming, it was easier to sleep anyway. Sleeping through the chaos for a few days was certainly better than sitting on pins and needles.

But there was one thing Fang Linyuan hadn’t fully thought through.

And that was Zhao Chu, who sat by the bedside into the dead of night, frowning the entire time.

After sending off the eunuch and physician, Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’m fine. It’s not like I’m really sick.”

Zhao Chu said nothing. He simply sat there, wringing out a damp cloth and gently wiping Fang Linyuan’s forehead and hands.

When one’s whole body was feverish, this truly felt much more comfortable.

But Fang Linyuan simply couldn’t ignore the cold expression on Zhao Chu’s face.

After a moment of silence, he reached out from under the brocade quilt and tugged at Zhao Chu’s robe. “Don’t be upset,” he said. “If you stay like this, I won’t be able to sleep.”

Zhao Chu’s expression finally showed a trace of helplessness.

He carefully wiped Fang Linyuan’s hand clean, then placed the cloth back in the silver basin and leaned forward slightly.

“Why do you have such trouble falling asleep?” he asked softly, brushing the hair sticking to Fang Linyuan’s temple aside as he spoke.

Fang Linyuan chuckled a couple of times.

Then Zhao Chu gave a soft sigh and slowly said, “I’m not upset. I just…”

He paused briefly, as if the next words were hard to speak.

Fang Linyuan quietly held his hand.

Zhao Chu’s gaze fell on their interlaced fingers, and after a moment, the faintest of smiles appeared on his face.

“I just think I’m useless,” Zhao Chu said, “dragging you into suffering like this.”

These words, coming from him, felt a bit out of place.

After all, before this, he had never known what suffering was. He was like a madman who didn’t feel heat or cold. As long as he still had breath in him, he would sink his fangs into others until the blood flew.

All he ever knew was what it meant winning or losing.

But now, he was treating him like a cloud that could scatter at any moment—handling him with extreme care, not even daring to let the wind brush too close.

Zhao Chu lowered his eyes. Though his tone was light, the guilt was all tucked beneath his lashes.

Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but give his hand a gentle squeeze. The motion was a little clumsy, but full of sincerity.

“How could you call that useless?” he said.

“Even if you don’t tell me, I still know what ‘the birds are gone, the bow is put away’ means. Zhao Chu, the reason I can lie here today without thinking about anything and make it through this mess is because you’re here.”

Zhao Chu’s eyes lifted slightly, a look of surprise flickering in his gaze.

Fang Linyuan smiled again, even giving him a cheeky wink.

“His Majesty’s wariness and suspicion of me—I’m not blind to it,” Fang Linyuan said. “Compared to having to obey imperial edicts while constantly being careful not to show any edge… just lying here, warm, and getting a decent nap? You’ve no idea how comfortable that is.”

He spoke so breezily, as if being suspected meant nothing to him.

But Zhao Chu’s expression darkened slightly again. “He’s blind and deaf—he never should’ve been the one sitting on that throne,” he said.

Fang Linyuan was startled, immediately tugging on his hand.

“What are you saying!” he said. “You can’t just speak like that!”

Zhao Chu paused.

He didn’t care about loyalty or filial piety to the emperor. It was only under Fang Linyuan’s nervous gaze that he reluctantly shut his mouth.

In his feverish haze, Fang Linyuan felt like he’d forcibly smoothed down the fur of a fierce tiger.

He instinctively tried to smooth it a bit more, like calming a beast. “His circumstances are different from ours—his concerns must be, too,” he pursued.

A flash of disdain passed through Zhao Chu’s eyes. He clearly didn’t agree with that man’s so-called “concerns.”

Every time Emperor Hongyou was brought up, the atmosphere between the two of them would instantly freeze over.

Fang Linyuan was flushed with heat, his whole body sluggish. Even thinking a few extra thoughts made him feel drowsy. So he simply abandoned the topic and tugged at Zhao Chu’s sleeve. “My hands are hot again…”

Sure enough, that worked.

Zhao Chu, cold-faced just moments before, instantly lowered his gaze. His long, jade-like hand reached for the silver basin and lifted a cloth with a soft splash of water.

Fang Linyuan watched as Zhao Chu carefully wiped his cheeks, neck, and hands again.

The feel of the soft brocade cloth against his fevered skin was wonderfully soothing. Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but narrow his eyes, and in his increasingly blurry vision, only Zhao Chu’s figure remained.

He wasn’t wearing makeup now. His sharp, radiant features were his natural appearance.

His long hair draped down, and his lips, cold and thin like the edge of a blade, looked heartless in their sharpness.

Yet when they had kissed the back of his hand, they were as soft as snow melting against his skin.

Fang Linyuan stared at those lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing involuntarily.

Zhao Chu noticed the movement right away. He leaned over and asked softly, “Thirsty?”

Fang Linyuan, dazed and muddle-headed, nodded—then shook his head.

Was he thirsty?

Probably…

But it was the kind of thirst water couldn’t quench.

 

--

Author's Note:

Zhao Chu: Obediently fetching water for the wife.jpg

 

Translator : DarNan