“I suppose I have been in love with you since a previous life.”

 

Fang Duo, in the end, did not allow the emperor’s sole designated heir to come formally to the door, only at that family banquet later that night, he buried his head and drank several more cups of wine.

By the third round of drinks, Fang Linyuan saw Zhao Chu at his side lift his hand and tap the rim of the empty wine cup before him.

The attendant nearby stepped forward to pour him a cup. Fang Linyuan hastily tugged at him and said: “Aren’t you unable to touch alcohol?”

But Zhao Chu only tilted his head slightly, smiling faintly as he cast a glance in the direction of his father.

Fang Linyuan turned his head to look, and indeed saw his father’s cheeks already flushed with drink; Li Zhe tried to dissuade him, but was instead pulled into drinking another two cups.

Fang Linyuan was long accustomed to this, so he told Zhao Chu: “It’s nothing, my father is like this—his face just shows the drink.”

But Zhao Chu shook his head, leaned forward slightly, and whispered: “Since I came today, I ought to give Father a proper explanation.”

The roots of Fang Linyuan’s ears burned hot. “What father!”

Zhao Chu chuckled softly. One hand lifted the wine cup, the other, hidden beneath the cover of the table, gently squeezed Fang Linyuan’s hand.

*

Fang Duo raised his eyes, and what he saw was Zhao Chu standing beside his son, holding the cup in one hand.

“Your Highness the Fifth—”

Fang Duo was about to rise, but Zhao Chu pressed his shoulder, holding him in place.

“I am here to offer a toast to the General,” Zhao Chu said. “The Mother Empress especially instructed me that since I was to come today, I must pay respects to all the elders, and also apologize to them.”

Fang Duo hesitated for a moment where he sat, then finally let out a sigh.

“I understand Her Majesty’s meaning,” he said. “As a minister, I understand the rites between ruler and subject. That Her Majesty would be mindful of me as a father—I too must naturally be grateful for such grace.”

Saying so, he lifted his gaze toward where Fang Linyuan was seated.

Changnian had just been placed in his arms by a servant. He held the child awkwardly but carefully, his eyes gleaming with curious light, while Changnian laughed happily in his embrace.

Fang Duo withdrew his gaze and looked sternly at Zhao Chu.

“As ministers, we would never defy the will of our sovereign. But I am not only a subject—I am also Linyuan’s father. Matters of marriage are no small affair. If this child is to be joined with you… I fear he may not be able to shoulder so great a burden.”

Zhao Chu merely smiled gently and said: “That, General, you need not worry about. He does everything well—he is intelligent, sincere, and pure and transparent. In all the world… there will never be anyone better than him.”

“Your Highness, you are still young,” Fang Duo reminded him.

But Zhao Chu shook his head. “Even so, there will not be another.”

Fang Duo was left speechless.

Then Zhao Chu raised the cup in his hand, turning his back slightly in salute, and said:

“I know well the General’s concerns, and I understand your fatherly heart. But as you are now in the prime of life, and with your eldest son already establishing merits in service, you are certainly able to safeguard Linyuan’s well-being. Today, I also wish to swear here: in this lifetime, there will be only Linyuan, and no one else. If ever I should violate this vow, then may I offer up the armies of Daxuan, tens of thousands strong, together with the head on my shoulders, to the General as compensation.”

With that, he raised his head and drained the clear wine in his cup.

*

Fang Duo never expected Zhao Chu to be so easily overcome by drink.

Just one cup, and back at the banquet table, the man’s spirit seemed gone—sitting blankly without a word.

This startled his wife, who feared the wine must have been tainted and caused the imperial heir to lose his wits, and she worriedly wanted to summon a physician at once.

Fang Linyuan hurried to stop her.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Zhao Chu cannot drink—just one sip of wine does this to him.”

At the head of the table, Fang Duo overheard this, and was utterly exasperated. Turning his eyes away, he waved his hand and said: “Enough, enough, take him down to rest.”

The one seated there was the imperial heir known always for his aloof coldness, proud and untouchable. For a moment, none of the surrounding servants dared move, no one dared step forward to help Zhao Chu up.

At his side, Fang Linze nudged Fang Linyuan.

Fang Linyuan turned and saw his elder brother say: “Go on then, take him to rest a night in your courtyard.”

Fang Linyuan nodded and was about to rise, when his brother tugged at his sleeve again.

Turning back, he saw Fang Linze’s expression solemn as he reminded him: “Make sure you do not take advantage of him at a time like this.”

Fang Linyuan froze, and only then realized what his brother was implying.

…Who’s taking advantage of whom!

His ears burned hot, but he could only pretend not to have heard, as he lifted Zhao Chu up and, surrounded by attendants, left the banquet.

As they departed, he still heard his father muttering behind them: “Still taking life itself as a pledge… making vows so firm—most likely just so he can drink himself senseless and stay the night in Linyuan’s quarters!”

*

Though drunk, Zhao Chu was still able to walk steadily, silent all the way, and his demeanor was remarkably well-behaved.

So Fang Linyuan did not allow others to follow, but supported Zhao Chu himself, the two making their way toward his Fuguang Pavilion.

Halfway along, Zhao Chu tilted his head slightly, turning to look at him.

That gaze was quiet, yet so intent, that Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but laugh, asking him:
“What is it?”

“Linyuan.” Zhao Chu said.

“Mm.” Fang Linyuan waited for him to continue.

“Fang Linyuan.” Zhao Chu, as though he only recognized his name, repeated it again.

Fang Linyuan couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “What is it you’re looking for me for?”

Zhao Chu made no sound again, only looking at him, gaze deep and steady.

Fang Linyuan laughed, and as they walked, he teased Zhao Chu to make him speak.

“What did you just say to my father?” he asked. “When I came out just now, I even heard him muttering about life and death or something.”

Zhao Chu replied: “Fang Linyuan, my life is yours.”

Fang Linyuan couldn’t hold back his laughter, tilting his head to ask: “No way—you actually said that to my father?”

Surely not? Zhao Chu wasn’t the type of person who couldn’t tell the weight of words.

Besides, judging by his father’s reaction, if he had heard those words, he’d probably have leapt up on the spot.

Zhao Chu, after a long silence, shook his head and said: “No, I didn’t say that.”

“Then what did you say?” Fang Linyuan pressed.

Zhao Chu mused again for a while, then slowly answered. “I staked everything I have with your father,” he said.

“Why?” Fang Linyuan asked.

“To trade for you.” Zhao Chu answered.

This time, Fang Linyuan was struck speechless.

Zhao Chu’s tone carried nothing particularly dramatic—calm, unhurried, straightforward, like he was simply recounting a story.

Yet those few plain words lodged directly in Fang Linyuan’s heart, spreading through his limbs together with the moonlight pouring gently over the world.

After a long time, Fang Linyuan let out a soft laugh and replied: “That’s good,” he said. “Luckily you didn’t talk nonsense to my father.”

Just a joke—but drunk as he was, Zhao Chu seemed stubborn to the extreme, insisting in rebuttal: “I wasn’t talking nonsense. Every word was from my heart.”

Forget it, forget it—who would argue seriously with a drunk at a time like this?

So Fang Linyuan could only laugh and answer him: “All right, all right, I know.”

But Zhao Chu, as if still dissatisfied, went on: “I still have many other words I haven’t said. I keep them well hidden, never letting elders or outsiders know.”

That did make Fang Linyuan curious.

“Really?” he pressed. “What words?”

Zhao Chu seemed to hesitate, as if weighing whether he should tell Fang Linyuan.

But Fang Linyuan, tickled unbearably by curiosity, tugged at him, saying: “It’s fine—telling me won’t matter.”

Zhao Chu, following the motion, turned his head. For an instant, their gazes met, rippling like waves spreading across still water. (NT: idiom used to describe subtle emotional disturbance)

Zhao Chu looked at him, and his mouth, as if disobedient, opened softly.

“I love you,” he said.

Fang Linyuan was caught off guard, stunned by the sudden confession.

“You…”

Just as he couldn’t find words, Zhao Chu’s expression before him remained calm, his gaze unwavering.

“Perhaps I began loving you in a previous life,” he said. “Or perhaps, in any life, so long as it is me, I will always fall in love with you.”

 

Translator : DarNan