This young general seemed really unable to tan.

Zhao Chu's gaze swept over Fang Linyuan's tightly fastened clothes, resembling a zongzi (NT: glutinous rice and varied filling wrapped in leaves and boiled), and the scene of his fair complexion from earlier still lingered in his eyes for a moment.

That body, tightly wrapped and tough, seemed to enclose bamboo-like bones, likely trained from years of spear practice. Unlike typical muscular warriors, he exuded a unique and vigorous strength.

Yet, he was very fair, like a layer of snow falling on a blade's edge. No wonder those barbarians called him "Jade Yama" (NT: Yama, or Yanjun is the King of Hell).

Zhao Chu's gaze paused momentarily, only returning to focus under Fang Linyuan's wary scrutiny.

For some reason, he felt somewhat uneasy, as if Fang Linyuan's guarded gaze held some valid reasoning.

He restrained his gaze, then revealed a faint smile, stepping forward to take the inner garment from the nearby maidservant. "Let me do it."

Fang Linyuan's eyes widened instantly.

Meanwhile, Zhao Chu calmly accepted the inner garment from the maid's hand under Fang Linyuan's watchful gaze, instructing the maid, "You may leave."

The maid covered her lips and smiled, quickly bowing to the two men before retreating. As she left, she didn't forget to take the others in the room with her.

Zhao Chu looked at Fang Linyuan.

He could only see Fang Linyuan's heartbroken gaze, staring at the departing figures with longing.

Ah, the young general had been betrayed by his subordinates, leaving him alone in the tiger's den.

A faint smile tugged at Zhao Chu's lips.

They've all run off again.

Fang Linyuan gritted his teeth as he watched them run out, their faces full of ambiguity. Even Jingzhe, that girl, didn't forget to drag Yanting along before leaving, seemingly still muttering that Yanting was a fool.

Just wait... just wait for the day when the truth comes out! He would settle the score with this group of traitors who betrayed their master!

Fang Linyuan ground his teeth in frustration. When he turned around, he saw Zhao Chu standing there silently, watching him with a smile that was not quite a smile, his expression gloomy and inscrutable.

He still held the inner garment in his hand.

"...Can I not wear it?" Fang Linyuan looked at it, asking weakly.

Zhao Chu remained silent but extended the inner garment forward.

That meant he couldn't avoid it.

Thinking of the persistent fox who never stopped until he got what he wanted, Fang Linyuan sighed and briskly grabbed the garment, turned his back, and swiftly changed out of his clothes.

Well, one piece of clothing wouldn't suffocate him.

"If you have something to say, I'm in a hurry to go to the palace," he said while changing.

However, at the moment he took off his robe, there was no sound behind him.

Even after he had changed his clothes, he didn't hear Zhao Chu speak. Fang Linyuan was about to turn around to see what the man was doing when he heard his voice behind him.

"This is..."

Very soft but somewhat hoarse, with no continuation for a while.

"Hmm?" Fang Linyuan turned around, only to see Zhao Chu's gaze fixed on his back. As he glanced down at his shoulder blades, he saw the old scar stretching across his back.

From his angle, he couldn't see it completely, only a corner, like a scorpion's tail.

Fang Linyuan paused.

Zhao Chu didn't bring it up, and he had almost forgotten about it.

He got this scar when he was sixteen, during his first solo command in battle. Ignoring warnings, he fought the Turkic cavalry up close outside the city. The enemy general's sabre was heavy and sharp, and when it slashed across his back, it felt like his spine had been cut in two.

Others said that taking such a blow would surely be fatal. But at that moment, all he remembered was the blood soaking his armour. In the sticky, hot blood, he turned and stabbed the enemy general's head.

As for how much it hurt, he didn't remember because on that day, his captured elder brother had committed suicide in front of the rolling yellow sands.

"You're talking about this?" Fang Linyuan lowered his eyes, then smiled lightly and said casually, "Yes, it was from a sabre."

He thought Zhao Chu had grown up in a sheltered environment, so it was natural for him to find such scars intriguing.

But he didn't know that such a long and terrifying scar on his muscular back could be jarring to the eyes.

Behind him, Zhao Chu still didn't speak.

Fang Linyuan thought he was always like this, inexplicably ignoring people. He didn't say much to him either, turned back, and briskly put on the clothes Zhao Chu gave him.

With his back to Zhao Chu, he couldn't see the tightening of the fingers clenched under his sleeve.

After changing into the inner garment, he turned around and picked up the ceremonial robe that Jingzhe and the others had already hung up for him.

At this moment, Zhao Chu spoke up, asking, "You're going to the palace now?"

With a hint of lingering bitterness, Fang Linyuan didn't turn around, just thought Zhao Chu had drunk too strong of a tea before leaving.

"Yes. Just now, my men sent a message, saying that Naren Temüjin

"Insulted the imperial envoy," Zhao Chu interrupted.

Approaching him, Zhao Chu stopped behind him. "I already know."

Hearing Zhao Chu's words, Fang Linyuan spared himself the trouble of explaining to him. "I'll go to the palace first. You wait until the appointed time, and the gatekeeper will arrange another carriage for you."

As he spoke, he reached for the robe on the rack. But as soon as he picked it up, a slender hand reached over and pressed the robe back onto the rack.

Turning around, he saw Zhao Chu standing quietly beside him.

"Don't go," he said.

"Why?" Fang Linyuan frowned at him.

"That useless guy couldn't stop the Turkic horse, lost Zhao Jin's men, and disgraced the emperor's face," Zhao Chu said. "What does that have to do with you?"

"How is it not my concern?" Fang Linyuan urged anxiously.

Zhao Chu, however, remained unmoved, only silently watching him, his hand still on Fang Linyuan's ceremonial robe.

Fang Linyuan was truly anxious.

His lips were tightly pressed, and his gaze towards Zhao Chu was unprecedentedly serious and sharp. "Do you know what treaty they want to sign in the peace talks? If he dares to gallop into the capital today, he will dare to demand the emperor to marry off a princess tomorrow. If he dares to be so arrogant after being defeated, will he not demand that I pay tribute and cede territory in the future?"

"The emperor will not allow himself to lose face like this," Zhao Chu insisted.

"Do you think Naren Temüjin wouldn't dare to be disrespectful in front of the throne?" Fang Linyuan said. "A defeated country being humiliated like this, if the courtiers and the people were to find out, how would His Majesty handle it?"

He didn't want to waste words with Zhao Chu anymore and reached out to take back his ceremonial robe.

But Zhao Chu not only didn't give in an inch, but also in the struggle, he grabbed Fang Linyuan's wrist and pulled him in front of him.

"So, you want to go in person to intimidate him?" Zhao Chu stared at him, asking.

The two were too close, and Zhao Chu's faintly cool, with a hint of osmanthus scent, breath fell on Fang Linyuan's face.

Fang Linyuan's back got numb, as if the thread he had just spoken was as cold as ice.

The spider silk of a demon could be lethal.

He quickly stepped back to avoid it, and Zhao Chu didn't insist, releasing his hand along with his movement.

When Fang Linyuan looked up again, he saw Zhao Chu gazing at him, his eyes deeply probing into his own.

"He is the monarch, and you are the subject. No one can surpass him and solve problems for him," he heard Zhao Chu saying so.

"Fang Linyuan, do you know what the crime of overstepping is? You should be clearer than I am."

*

This was the first time Zhao Chu had ever spoken so much nonsense to someone.

Even he didn't know why.

He had just come to Fuguang Pavilion to inform Fang Linyuan in advance of the news from the palace.

More than the information Fang Linyuan had received, the letter sent from the palace stated that after Naren Temüjin entered the palace, he refused to kneel and pay respects on the Golden Hall until the emperor relieved him of the ritual. After he withdrew, from He Hongfang to the Third Prince, everyone was reprimanded by the emperor, and even Sang Zhixin, who was waiting outside the hall, did not escape.

Zhao Chu originally came to remind Fang Linyuan to be careful at the banquet, but he didn't expect Fang Linyuan to rush to the palace as if he himself had been humiliated by the Turkic people.

According to Zhao Chu's personality, he should have felt some sarcasm.

But he didn't know why his mood was somewhat complicated.

Perhaps it was because of the scar on Fang Linyuan's back, which was so horrifying that just looking at the terrifying scar revealed how deep it had cut into his bones. Or perhaps it was the fiery seriousness in Fang Linyuan's eyes during their dispute, as if the contract of tribute and diplomacy was truly a matter of life and death to him.

Zhao Chu should have doubted him, after all, he was always cautious and never believed that there was such a thing as a clean heart in the world.

But he didn't. Instead, with a patience he had never had before, he explained the situation to Fang Linyuan.

However, when he saw Fang Linyuan's bewildered expression after he came to his senses, a look of understanding mixed with confusion on his face, he felt somewhat irritated.

Is suspicion between ruler and subject, slander between colleagues, something rare? Even the bricks used to pave the imperial city were built with calculation and mixed with blood and mud.

Who didn't live in this swamp of gold and jade, surviving amidst the marshes, disguising dirty and ugly souls under a surface of refinement, making each other their scapegoats.

But he felt dirty for the first time.

To him, all of this was as common as air, but when it fell into Fang Linyuan's eyes, it seemed to taint his vision.

Zhao Chu was a little annoyed.

"Thank you for the reminder," he heard Fang Linyuan say to him after a long time.

But Zhao Chu thought, the dog emperor had always been troublesome, and he should have died long ago.

He just grunted and turned away.

Fang Linyuan didn't stop him, and it wasn't until evening that the two met again in front of the carriage.

*

Zhao Chu noticed that Fang Linyuan seemed obviously absent-minded.

The Marquis's ceremonial robe flattered him greatly; the indigo blue wide-sleeved brocade robe made his complexion even paler.

But his expression was not lively, still as lifeless as when he left earlier.

Even when helping him onto the carriage, his mind seemed elsewhere, and he didn't glare at him as he usually did.

Just because he didn't want him to meddle in the emperor's affairs, was that it?

Sitting in the carriage, Zhao Chu furrowed his brows. The clattering of horses’ hooves and the clanking of wheels outside made the inside of the carriage even more silent, uncomfortably quiet.

How could a general be so fragile?

As he was impatiently tapping his hand on his knee, a small object slipped from his sleeve into his palm with the movement.

Hard and small, it was the osmanthus candy he carried with him for clearing his palate after drinking.

It was said that sweets would numb the nerves and make people foolishly happy.

Zhao Chu paused for a moment, then turned his head to look out the window.

However, his hand under his sleeve turned, and he stuffed the osmanthus candy into Fang Linyuan’s hand.

“Take it,” he said coldly, sparing no words.

Beside him, Fang Linyuan, who had been uncomfortable ever since he was brushed by the peony embroidered on the back of the inner garment, and was too lazy to speak, suddenly found something stuffed into his hand.

When he lowered his head, he saw that it was a piece of candy.

Fang Linyuan looked at Zhao Chu in confusion, but Zhao Chu still ignored him.

And the candy lay quietly in his hand, hard and cold.

What is this… a container for a secret message?

 

--

The author has something to say:

Zhao Chu: Eat candy, don't be sad.

Fang Linyuan: (Takes it) Ah... the mission is being issued so secretly... (sighs)

 

Translator : DarNan