Chapter 27
That night, after Yao Chang’an had gone to bed, Ji Qingzhou called Guo Zi over.
Ever since Xiao Shan was taken into the Office of Judicial Review, Guo Zi had been on edge. In just two short days, his face had visibly thinned, and he looked completely worn out.
“How old are you this year?” Ji Qingzhou handed him a cup of tea and asked.
“Fourteen.” Guo Zi lifted the teacup and took a mechanical sip, then nervously looked at Ji Qingzhou. “Ji Gonggong, have you figured out a way to save Brother Xiao Shan? Is there anything I can do to help?”
With a slight smile, Ji Qingzhou reached out and gently pinched Guo Zi’s arm. Feeling this bit of closeness, Guo Zi’s tension eased a little.
“I heard them say saving Brother Xiao Shan is nearly impossible. I guess I really underestimated it,” Guo Zi said, eyes red. “I didn’t think it would be this hard… Ji Gonggong, what should I do?”
Ji Qingzhou placed a hand on Guo Zi’s shoulder and asked in a warm voice, “If I told you there’s a way to save him, would you believe me?”
“Really?” Guo Zi looked at Ji Qingzhou, feeling the warmth of his palm on his shoulder. After a moment, he firmly nodded and said, “I believe you. I know it’s hard, but if you say you can do it, I believe you.”
“Good.” Ji Qingzhou’s smile faded, and he spoke seriously: “From this point on, I need you to answer every single question I ask with complete honesty. If you hold anything back, Xiao Shan may end up being beaten to death.”
Guo Zi immediately nodded vigorously and even raised a hand toward the sky to swear, but Ji Qingzhou stopped him.
He trusted that Guo Zi wouldn’t lie at a time like this.
More than an hour later, after asking everything he needed, Ji Qingzhou finally dismissed Guo Zi.
Before letting him go, he reminded him not to breathe a word about what had happened tonight to anyone.
Guo Zi dared not be careless. He memorized Ji Qingzhou’s words one by one, then quietly left the small courtyard.
After Guo Zi left, Tu Dayou entered Ji Qingzhou’s room. He stepped up to the desk, glanced at Ji Qingzhou’s notes on the paper, and frowned. “Are you confident?”
“I don’t know. I just have to try,” Ji Qingzhou replied. “Xiao Shan hid his relationship with that person very well—even Guo Zi, who’s close to him, didn’t notice a thing. So we can only try and see. Whether we’ll find that person or not is still uncertain.”
“This thing has caused such a stir—there’s no way that person hasn’t heard about it, right?” Tu Dayou said. “What if they deliberately went into hiding? How are we supposed to find them?”
Ji Qingzhou replied, “Then we’ll have to bet—bet that the person Xiao Shan is willing to risk his life to protect doesn’t care for him that little. As long as there’s even a sliver of feeling, they’ll eventually slip up.”
Tu Dayou looked at Ji Qingzhou. The young man sat under the lamplight, carefully reviewing the notes he had compiled. His expression was completely focused. Tu Dayou stared at him for a while before suddenly asking, “So you’ve made your decision?”
“What?” Ji Qingzhou looked up, not quite following at first. After a pause, he realized what Tu Dayou meant and gave a small nod.
Tu Dayou was referring to the suggestion from earlier… Ji Qingzhou choosing to help Xiao Shan clear his name meant he wasn’t going to stand on the same side as Tu Dayou anymore. That realization made Tu Dayou feel more than a little disappointed.
“Why choose the harder path?” Tu Dayou asked. “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you—it’s that I know your path won’t work,” Ji Qingzhou said. “You think I’m choosing the more difficult way, but in fact, I’m choosing the right one.”
Tu Dayou couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve always had your own ideas.”
“Brother Dayou,” Ji Qingzhou said without looking up, eyes still fixed on the papers in his hand, “you trusted me during the palace banquet—so you should trust me now too. This Great Yu Dynasty will one day have only one ruler… I don’t know who’s behind you, but I can tell you for certain, it’s not the one I’m talking about.”
“You’re too confident,” Tu Dayou replied.
“If you still trust me, you should start planning how to step away,” Ji Qingzhou said calmly.
Tu Dayou fell silent for a moment, then got up and walked toward the door. But once he reached it, he suddenly paused and asked, “You chose Wang Ye—was it because you’ve already had physical relations with him?”
Ji Qingzhou was stunned. He had never imagined those words would come from Tu Dayou’s mouth. All this time, he had been trying his hardest to forget that incident. And he had thought he’d finally succeeded—even in front of Li Zhan, he could now remain calm and composed, unaffected by what had happened.
But Tu Dayou had effortlessly ripped the scab right off that old wound…
Ji Qingzhou wanted to explain. He wanted to tell Tu Dayou that Li Zhan, for all his unfathomable depths, was not a tyrant without principles. That he had even cared enough to consider the lives of a group of eunuchs… Ji Qingzhou wanted Tu Dayou to understand that choosing Li Zhan wasn’t an impulsive, blind decision—it was the result of careful deliberation and weighing of all outcomes.
But clearly, Tu Dayou disapproved of his choice. He even brought up what had happened in Fengxian Pavilion to stab at him!
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up…” Tu Dayou quickly calmed down and said, “I’ll come with you to investigate tomorrow.”
“No need,” Ji Qingzhou replied.
Tu Dayou froze, his face showing a touch of disappointment.
But Ji Qingzhou explained, “You have too much visibility in the palace. Everywhere you go, people recognize you. It’ll just alarm the target and make things harder. Help me find two gray robes instead—and help rearrange the duty roster. I won’t be reporting for shifts these next few days.”
“Mm.” Tu Dayou nodded, then added, “Guo Zi is young and inexperienced. How about I find someone more reliable and unfamiliar to accompany you, so no one causes trouble?”
Ji Qingzhou replied, “Don’t worry, I’ve already found someone. Should be dependable enough.”
As he spoke, Ji Qingzhou smiled at Tu Dayou, showing he wasn’t holding a grudge over their earlier disagreement. He knew Tu Dayou cared about Xiao Shan—and also about him—so his emotional outburst made sense. Once he’d had time to reflect, Ji Qingzhou wasn’t going to let a single argument ruin things between them.
Seeing that, Tu Dayou finally nodded and returned to his own residence.
The next morning, Ji Qingzhou changed into the grey robe that Tu Dayou had found for him.
Qin Zheng, on the other hand, held the dull-colored robe with a look of disgust.
“This is hideous. I’m not wearing it,” Qin Zheng said.
“It’s a bit ugly, I’ll give you that,” Ji Qingzhou said. “But you, Young Master Qin, are as graceful as a jade tree in the wind, unparalleled in beauty. No matter what you wear, it can’t possibly look bad. Try it and see for yourself.”
Even though Qin Zheng knew Ji Qingzhou was just flattering him, his mood visibly improved. Begrudgingly, he changed into the robe.
“But I’ve been following Wang Ye around these days. Even if I change my clothes, a lot of people might still recognize me,” Qin Zheng said. “And besides, with my looks, even if I wrapped myself in a rag, people would still stare.”
Ji Qingzhou nodded. “That’s why I’m going to have to trouble you to keep your head down while walking—don’t let anyone catch a glimpse of that breathtaking face of yours. You might just cause someone to walk into a wall.”
Qin Zheng followed behind Ji Qingzhou and noticed that, indeed, all the eunuchs they passed walked with their heads lowered. He’d never really paid attention to that detail before. In all his time in the palace, Ji Qingzhou was actually the only eunuch he could name—but in his heart, he had never really grouped Ji Qingzhou in with the others.
“Wang Ye always says I’m arrogant. Looks like he’s right,” Qin Zheng remarked.
“You belong to Wang Ye. Whether you’re arrogant or not doesn’t really matter,” Ji Qingzhou replied. “What matters is that Wang Ye isn’t blind to what’s important.”
Qin Zheng leaned in and whispered, “Wang Ye isn’t just aware of people—he also has someone in his heart. Do you know who it is?”
Ji Qingzhou shot him a glare, clearly uninterested in gossiping about the Regent.
The two of them, along with Guo Zi, spent the whole morning busy. First, they went to Xiao Shan’s quarters while no one was around. Aside from a few paintings done in a wild, unrestrained style, they found no other clues.
After that, they joined the eunuchs from the kitchen responsible for transporting food supplies and followed them out to the side gate for several deliveries. Along the way, Ji Qingzhou wore Xiao Shan’s jade token around his neck, deliberately leaving it visible outside his robe, but no one seemed to take notice of it.
“Brother Xiao Shan comes here to pick up items every other day. I’ve done this task with him a few times, and the people we saw today were about the same,” Guo Zi said.
Ji Qingzhou nodded. “Let’s take a look at the kitchen.”
Everyone nodded and headed to the imperial kitchen together.
But the imperial chefs were all eunuchs as well, and with no guards stationed nearby, they still came up empty-handed.
Just before they left, Ji Qingzhou kept glancing back inside the kitchen, as if he’d discovered something.
“Did you spot something suspicious?” Qin Zheng asked in a low voice.
“No. I was just thinking the fried meatballs today looked pretty good,” Ji Qingzhou replied, swallowing a bit of saliva.
Qin Zheng: …
In that moment, the image of the clever and resourceful Young Master Ji he’d built up in his mind came crashing down.
After leaving the kitchen, Ji Qingzhou pressed a hand to his growling stomach, visibly distracted. The ordeal in Yan Court from the past two days had left him queasy and without much appetite, but now, likely from exhaustion, his hunger hit him hard enough to make him feel light-headed.
“Watch out…” Qin Zheng reached out and pulled him aside, just in time to avoid a eunuch carrying a wooden bucket behind him.
Ji Qingzhou turned around and saw several eunuchs carrying wooden buckets. Inside were kitchen scraps.
He watched as the eunuchs set the buckets onto a wooden cart, then worked together to push the cart away.
“Where are they taking that?” Ji Qingzhou asked.
“They used to have people come pick up the scraps to feed livestock,” Guozi explained. “But now the kitchen master raises some chickens and ducks just outside the north corner gate, so they take the kitchen waste there instead. Saves them the trouble of preparing separate feed.”
Hearing this, Ji Qingzhou suddenly remembered the rabbits he’d seen the other day and asked, “Is it the same courtyard where they keep the rabbits?”
“Not just rabbits… there are plenty of other animals raised nearby too,” Guo Zi said. “But the place is small, so they can’t raise many. Most of the food consumed in the palace actually comes from estates on the outskirts of the capital.”
“Does Xiao Shan go there often?” Ji Qingzhou asked.
“Brother Xiao Shan loves rabbits. He often goes over to feed them,” Guo Zi replied.
Ji Qingzhou nodded thoughtfully and said, “Let’s go take a look there this afternoon.”
Guo Zi immediately agreed. Ji Qingzhou’s stomach had been growling non-stop, so he didn’t say much more and left with Qin Zheng.
Naturally, someone as pampered as Qin Zheng wouldn’t consider going to that little courtyard just for a shared meal. He hurried back to Yinghui Pavilion.
Inside Yinghui Pavilion, the young emperor was throwing a bit of a tantrum because he hadn’t seen Ji Qingzhou all day—he didn’t even want to eat properly.
“Your Majesty really ought to learn from Young Master Ji about not being picky with food,” Qin Zheng said, glancing at the fried meatballs on the table. “Earlier today at the imperial kitchen, Young Master Ji saw those freshly fried meatballs and practically couldn’t walk away—he almost ran into a wall just from the temptation.”
Li Zhan looked up at Qin Zheng when he heard this, as if wanting to ask something, but ended up staying silent.
Just then, the young emperor spoke up of his own accord. “Why hasn’t Ji Gonggong been dining with us these past few days?”
Not long ago, Ji Qingzhou had been taste-testing dishes for the young emperor and Li Zhan, but ever since their return to the palace, Li Zhan had moved into Yinghui Pavilion. The attendants in Yinghui Pavilion had all been hand-picked by Li Zhan himself, and Qin Zheng had thoroughly investigated them, so everyone there was trustworthy. Because of that, Ji Qingzhou’s help in tasting food was no longer necessary.
Besides, Ji Qingzhou was now the Chief Eunuch. Tasks like taste-testing food were no longer part of his duties.
“How’s the investigation going?” Li Zhan asked.
“No leads yet,” Qin Zheng replied. “But Young Master Ji looked so pale from hunger after noon—it was like his stomach was putting on a full opera performance, grumbling non-stop. Who knows how poor the eunuchs’ meals are in this palace, to leave someone that hungry!”
Today, Qin Zheng seemed to have learned some empathy. Taking the opportunity, he spoke up on behalf of Ji Qingzhou and the other eunuchs, appealing for fairness in front of both the young emperor and Li Zhan. Hearing that, Li Zhan couldn’t help but recall how the youth used to sneak food whenever he had the chance. Maybe he really had never been full. Li Zhan silently wondered—was the eunuchs’ food allowance truly being withheld to this degree?
“Have the steward from the Inner Attendant Department summoned this afternoon, his Majesty can certainly afford to feed the palace attendants properly.” Li Zhan said.
Qin Zheng tilted his head back and took a big gulp of tea. “No matter how good the palace meals are, they’ll never beat the food here at Yinghui Pavilion. If you ask me, just transfer Young Master Ji’s food rations to Yinghui Pavilion. The place is spacious anyway—might as well let him move in too. His current courtyard may be quiet, but it’s too far. Running back and forth every day—his legs are probably wearing thin.”
Li Zhan looked up at him, his expression rather complicated.
“Did I say something wrong?” Qin Zheng asked. “All the eunuchs serving in Yinghui Pavilion live in the side rooms nearby. There’s no reason why Young Master Ji, a chief eunuch, shouldn’t have a proper place to stay. If not… my bed is pretty big—I could share half of it with him.”
The young emperor burst out laughing. “My bed is big too. I can also share half of it with Ji Gonggong.”
Li Zhan: …
That afternoon, sunlight streamed over the red palace walls and shone into the long alley north of the side gate.
Ji Qingzhou sat at the edge of a flowerbed in that alley, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth of the sun. In his hand, he toyed with Xiao Shan’s jade pendant.
Ji Qingzhou had asked Guo Zi about it—Xiao Shan couldn’t draw and only knew a limited number of characters. So those paintings in his room had likely been gifts from someone else. The jade pendant too was probably a gift. Xiao Shan wasn’t the type to pretend to be refined, and it didn’t make sense for him to buy a jade pendant to give to a lover.
So who had given it to him?
How had Xiao Shan met that person, and how did they meet in secret?
“This is the flowerbed where he asked you to bury the jade pendant?” Qin Zheng’s voice sounded above Ji Qingzhou’s head.
Ji Qingzhou half-opened his beautiful eyes and looked up at Qin Zheng, whose figure was bathed in sunlight, making his features appear blurred and hazy.
“Do you think… maybe one day, Xiao Shan sat here sunbathing, and a patrol guard just happened to walk by… they locked eyes, and it was love at first sight…” Ji Qingzhou murmured, half lost in his imagination.
Qin Zheng raised a brow. “The way you’re looking at me right now—are you falling for me too?”
“My heart doesn’t stir,” Ji Qingzhou said calmly. “That medicine works very well—it severs all feelings and desires. Even if a goddess stood in front of me and made advances, I wouldn’t feel a single thing.”
“Then why do you think Xiao Shan fell for him?” Qin Zheng asked.
“That, I don’t know,” Ji Qingzhou sighed, then asked, “Have you ever had a secret rendezvous with someone?”
With a grin, Qin Zheng sat down beside him and replied, “I’ve had plenty of secret meetings. Want me to tell you all about them in detail?”
“Tell me this,” Ji Qingzhou said, “under what circumstances would a eunuch who’s taken the drug to suppress all desire willingly give himself to another man? And besides… that thing… doing it doesn’t even feel good…”
It actually hurt—a lot!
“Sounds like you speak from experience!” Qin Zheng looked curious. “Tell me, you and Wang Ye… was there something between you two?”
“I’ve got it!” Ji Qingzhou suddenly cut him off. “That guard must’ve drugged him!”
Ji Qingzhou remembered—on that night in Fengxian Pavilion, he had also been drugged. Though the effects on him were much weaker than on the Regent, it wasn’t that he had no reaction at all. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given up struggling so easily!
That meant, while the eunuchs’ medication did suppress passion and desire, if stimulated by other drugs, it could still provoke lust.
“Looks like you don’t know much about what goes on between men,” Qin Zheng said leisurely. “Next time, when there’s a chance, big brother here can give you a proper lesson.”
“Heh,” Ji Qingzhou gave a dry laugh. “I’ll pass. I’m not interested in men.”
“Then are you interested in women?” Qin Zheng asked.
“Um…” Ji Qingzhou thought for a moment and found himself at a loss for an answer.
In his previous life, he had been single since birth. He had never dated, never fallen for a boy or a girl. Even during adolescence, when most people experienced their first fluttering of the heart, Ji Qingzhou had felt almost nothing. He’d even suspected he might be asexual.
Now that he’d become a eunuch, there was even less reason to think about such things.
“Desire and emotion are complicated,” Qin Zheng said, his tone finally turning serious. “It’s not something that can be cut off with just one dose of medicine. That drug may disable certain bodily functions in a man, but that doesn’t mean it can truly erase desire. How do you know Xiao Shan wasn’t willing?”
Ji Qingzhou found himself stumped—he really didn’t know.
Judging Xiao Shan’s feelings based on his own clearly wasn’t fair.
“If Xiao Shan had been drugged and forced, then why would he risk his life to protect that person?” Qin Zheng pressed.
“Maybe it’s…” Stockholm Syndrome? Ji Qingzhou muttered, “He was drugged and taken advantage of for so long that he ended up falling in love with the one who hurt him?”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?” Qin Zheng laughed. “Why can’t it just be that he fell in love with him, like any normal person would?”
Ji Qingzhou realized then that he had been too narrow in his assumptions. He had to admit—when it came to matters of love, Qin Zheng was clearly more perceptive than he was.
“It’s alright,” Qin Zheng said, putting on the air of someone who’d been through it all. “When I was your age, I didn’t understand any of this either. But once you’ve tasted that sweetness, you’ll understand.”
Ji Qingzhou mentally shook his head, thinking: It’s not that I haven’t tasted it… but I never want to taste it again!
Author’s Note:
Qin Zheng: Love is like a glass of wine—no one drinks it without getting drunk~
Love the drama and palace machinations? Buy Ciacia a coffee on Kofi to keep the intrigue brewing.
Tired of cliffhangers? The Zhouzhou Tier unlocks up to 5 chapters early, letting you peek behind the golden screens before the rest of the court.
