Chapter 26: Jinling City (8)
When Lin Zikui said those words, he truly felt no resentment or regret.
Miss Xiao might’ve been wonderful. Maybe he couldn’t marry her, maybe he didn’t have the fate to become Lord Xiao’s son-in-law—but Lin Zikui had met someone even better: Xiao Zhaoling.
The one he encountered at Xingzhi Temple was named Xiao Zhaoling.
The one who moved his heart was also Xiao Zhaoling.
The person who gave him peach blossom wine—it was Xiao Zhaoling.
Lin Zikui held onto the other’s broad back, the distance between them almost nonexistent. He could hear the sound of his own heartbeat pounding out of his throat. In that moment, in that sealed space, a surge of attachment and almost desperate love washed over him.
Xiao Fu wanted to kiss him, and so he did. He didn’t need to exert any force; he leaned in and lightly pecked him a few times. Lin Zikui had nowhere to hide—he could only accept it. And he did, his face flushing bright red, ears ringing with Xiao Fu’s whisper: “Then what about your engagement, Lin Lang?”
“That marriage contract… it’s with Madam Xiao. She already tore it up.” Lin Zikui was dizzy from those gentle kisses. He couldn’t see, yet it felt like fireworks were bursting before his eyes, flashing and crackling.
“I… it’s not important. I don’t even like Miss Xiao,” Lin Zikui added.
Xiao Zhaoling smiled with his eyes crinkling: “So you like me, don’t you?”
“Yes…” It was embarrassingly difficult to say it outright. Lin Zikui mulled over how to respond, and finally replied in a scholarly tone, “You understand my heart, I’m moved by your affection—this love, let Heaven be witness to it.”
“…You little bookworm.” Xiao Fu didn’t kiss him again—he could already feel Lin Zikui burning up. Xiao Fu didn’t want to frighten him by drawing a dagger in a place like this, not during their first time. So he simply pressed the tip of his nose against Lin Zikui’s and rubbed lightly. “Is it really that hard to say you like me? Why recite poetry out of nowhere?”
“Because I’m a scholar… what I meant was: I know of your feelings for me, and you know mine for you too. Heaven can vouch for it.”
Lin Zikui remembered he didn’t like hearing poetry or couplets. But in this moment, being so thoroughly teased, his whole body felt restless, and he completely forgot. There was even a flame burning low in his abdomen. He had once been drugged with an aphrodisiac, but this sensation was clearly something else entirely.
He also remembered Xiao Fu’s injuries. “Miss Zhaoling, shouldn’t we get out of here? I can’t see, and your leg is wounded. We need to find somewhere and get a physician. Where even are we? I have no idea,” he said, his voice growing anxious. “I’m worried the Xu faction might track us to Xingzhi Temple.”
“They won’t, do you know what kind of place Xingzhi Temple is? A place of quiet cultivation—no one would dare barge in and kidnap you. And don’t forget, I can fight. I have guards with me. We can protect you and your attendant just fine.” Then he asked Lin Zikui, “What’s the grudge between you and the Xu faction?”
The bitterness Lin Zikui had buried deep in his heart began to rise again the moment Xiao Fu brought it up.
Xiao Fu quickly noticed and shook his head. “Alright, alright, let’s not talk about this. Don’t dwell on it.”
“Either way… I’m going to leave Jinling soon. It’s not that big a deal, and it’s not like I can’t talk about it. They’re not going to chase me all the way to Fengtai County, are they?” Lin Zikui felt unbearably hot. Xiao Fu’s breath brushed against his face with every word, and when he turned his head slightly, his chin naturally rested against Xiao Fu’s neck.
Lin Zikui felt a bit embarrassed—but considering how things were between them now…
Forget it. Lin Zikui summoned what little shamelessness he had and began recounting the past: “Three years ago, I went to the capital for the imperial exams. I studied at the Yingtian Prefecture Academy and lived with Brother Tang.”
Xiao Fu listened intently. “Mhm.”
In his mind, he cursed: That damned Tang Mengyang, rotten to the core.
“The academy treated everyone equally—unless you were high nobility or a powerful official, you lived like everyone else. Several people shared a room, no exceptions. Some rooms had even more students. I… back then, I placed first in the provincial exams. I was the youngest top scorer in the history of the Ye Dynasty.”
That was certainly impressive, but he didn’t sound boastful in the slightest.
Xiao Fu praised him, “How is Lin Lang so smart?”
Lin Zikui answered shyly, “I’m only good at studying. I’m useless at everything else. Everyone says I’m slow when it comes to anything outside of books.”
“No you’re not. My Lin Lang knows how to make tea eggs, cook chicken soup, buy wine for me, sew clothes, and even burn charcoal—there’s nothing you can’t do… You have so many strengths.”
These trivial things somehow became virtues in Zhaoling’s eyes.
It made Lin Zikui feel utterly mortified.
Xiao Fu chuckled. “Alright, alright, go on. You and that damn… Brother Tang—you shared a room. Then what?”
“It was just me, him, and one other gentleman—surname Huang. The three of us. Since I was the top scorer, the academy gave me that benefit. Mr. Huang came from a wealthy merchant family and had donated a large sum to the school. Brother Tang was a renowned scholar from Jiangnan, very talented.”
Xiao Fu gave a tight-lipped smile. He didn’t expect that as soon as they talked about the past, Lin Zikui would actually praise that Tang Mengyang!
“That damned cut-sleeve didn’t do anything to you, did he? You were only fourteen.”
“No, no,” Lin Zikui quickly denied it. “You only told me about him being a cut-sleeve recently. I never thought about it before. I was already fourteen—what could he have possibly wanted from me? We just lived together and were closer than others, always quizzing each other on schoolwork. One time, Brother Tang took me to present a calling card at Grand Secretary Xu’s residence—but of course, we couldn’t get in.”
Xiao Fu interrupted, “Weren’t you trying to become Prime Minister Xue’s student?”
“Mhm… that came later,” Lin Zikui said slowly. “I used to admire Grand Secretary Xu a lot. But a few days later, Brother Tang took me to the capital’s guildhall for a poetry competition. I was too young then—I didn’t realize I shouldn’t have stood out so much.”
Maybe it was because he mentioned the most painful memory. In the darkness, Xiao Fu vaguely saw a change in his expression—his lips were turned down, pressed tight together, holding back emotion. His body was tense, even trembling slightly.
“Lin Lang… seeking the limelight wasn’t your fault. You’re talented, filled with knowledge and wisdom far beyond your years. Naturally, the world was bound to see that brilliance. Do you understand? You are a national treasure, a precious asset to the state. If this country had a wise ruler, they would surely treat you as a gem. This was never your fault—it was the fault of a thousand years of rotten bureaucracy!” Xiao Fu didn’t even need Lin Zikui to explain—he already had a rough idea of what had happened.
Lin Zikui sniffled, reminding himself not to lose composure in front of Miss Zhaoling. He deliberately held himself together and said, “When I was very young, I studied Standards for Being a Good Pupil and Child. It said, ‘Those with great talent attract great attention. True admiration comes not from boasting, but from one’s virtue.’ I thought, even if I’m young, even if I’m short, I passed the Huainan provincial exams as the top scholar. Why should people look down on me because of my age or height? So I joined poetry contests, and only later did I realize the person I had been fiercely competing with was Xu Zhuojun—the son of Grand Secretary Xu. His knowledge wasn’t bad, but in the final round, a seven-step impromptu poem, he lost—to me, a fourteen-year-old kid. And then my friend Huang… he said something unkind about Xu.”
Lin Zikui couldn’t bring himself to say more.
But he remembered it all vividly.
He remembered Brother Huang’s tone and manner—waving his fan cheerfully, brimming with pride as he said, “Brother Lin, I didn’t expect you to be this amazing! So this great talent of Jinling, Xu Zhuojun, is just so-so! And he’s Grand Secretary Xu’s son, yet he lost to a child like you in poetry! Look at him now—can’t take the loss, haha! He’s probably going home to complain to his father!”
Tang Mengyang’s expression had looked off then. He tugged at Brother Huang, signaling him to stop talking.
But Brother Huang had been naïve. He just shook his head and said, “Hey, we’re right under the emperor’s nose. Grand Secretary Xu is known for appreciating talent. Today, our Brother Lin made a name for himself. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll become an adopted son of the Xu Residence!”
Back then, Lin Zikui hadn’t understood the implications. He said Brother Huang was exaggerating, but in his heart, he thought: Could I really be adopted by Grand Secretary Xu?
For any scholar in the country, that was a dream beyond reach.
Becoming a son of the Xu Residence meant a smooth official career.
But in the end, Brother Huang suffered a terrible fate.
Lin Zikui’s eyes blurred with mist, stinging with pain, as he said, “Brother Huang just happened to recite two lines of poetry on the street the next day, and someone falsely accused him of disrespecting the late emperor—said he’d composed a treasonous poem! But I was right beside him. I know he only recited a couple of romantic verses! They arrested him and threw him into Shuntian Prefecture. I visited him—Brother Tang gave me silver to bribe our way in and brought him food. There was a chicken leg in the meal, and even in prison, he was so happy, saying he finally had something tasty…”
That chicken leg became Brother Huang’s last meal before execution.
Clenching his teeth, Lin Zikui felt Xiao Fu wrap his arms tighter around him, soothing his back: “Zikui… don’t say more, it’s okay now. Don’t cry, alright?”
Things like this had existed since ancient times. Xiao Fu didn’t know much about the imperial examination system—it had nothing to do with him. He never had to take any. But even he had heard whispers about the suppression of scholars.
Now hearing it firsthand from Lin Zikui, the rage filled every inch of Xiao Fu’s already limited patience.
His Brother Huang had been killed. And that young, innocent, brilliant Lin Lang… what had he suffered? Xiao Fu didn’t want to hear more. He couldn’t bear to let him go on.
After a moment, Xiao Fu tilted his head slightly and asked, “Xu Zhuojun. What if I kill him for you?”
Lin Zikui thought he was joking, trying to comfort him. How could one defy heaven’s justice so easily? Those who suffer rarely get revenge. So he just nodded faintly. “Alright. You kill him.”
Xiao Fu’s tone was casual, as if discussing dinner. “What kind of death would you prefer?”
“I want him imprisoned in the Celestial Prison. Even if the emperor commits a crime, he should be judged like any commoner. Xu Zhuojun, as the son of Grand Secretary Xu, should have his crimes publicly announced, be executed at the Meridian Gate—be condemned by heaven and earth, despised by the world, and serve as a warning for future generations…”
Lin Zikui’s hatred ran deep, but he struggled to voice it aloud.
People like him couldn’t even hate in peace. Even justice had to be whispered.
Xiao Fu said, “Sounds like beheading at the Meridian Gate is letting him off too easily.”
Lin Zikui gave a bitter smile. “I know it’s impossible. I’m just saying it to you. I wouldn’t dare say this to anyone else. All these years, I haven’t dared utter a single word.” And yet somehow, he had told Xiao Zhaoling.
Perhaps it was because of the warmth he radiated… Lin Zikui just needed to pour it out.
Xiao Fu felt the weight of that trust. He knew Zikui had been holding it in for so long. It must have been excruciating.
“Lin Lang, you can tell me anything,” Xiao Fu said. “Is there anyone else you want to kill? I’ll do it with you.”
His almost childlike tone made Lin Zikui chuckle. “No one else. I have no personal enemies. I just want the guilty to be punished.”
“Alright then. Xu Zhuojun turned out like this because his father backed him. That’s why the magistrate at Shuntian Prefecture became their lapdog.”
Xiao Fu thought: then I’ll turn Xu Zhuojun into a living corpse, sew him together with his father, then behead them both at the Meridian Gate.
He had already stirred Emperor Wen Tai’s suspicions toward Grand Secretary Xu. Originally, this was something Yuwen Duo could’ve handled. But alas… Yuwen Duo would only live until the first day of spring.
They had to wait until after the Lantern Festival—Xiao Fu wanted to take Lin Zikui on a boat ride through Jinling, to tour the Qinhuai River. Lin Zikui’s eye injury wasn’t too severe. Third Master had said he could open at least one eye by then.
If national mourning were declared, the festival would be canceled. All of Jinling would be draped in white, filled with funeral songs—how awful!
A proper festival should be festive: firecrackers, fireworks, river lanterns, sugar hawthorns, and lantern riddles! That’s how to make Lin Lang smile!
In a rare display of mercy, Xiao Fu decided to let Yuwen Duo live one more day—just enough to finish the firecrackers.
No more than that, though. The Spring Exams were coming.
Author’s Note:
Yuwen Duo: Thank you, dear Uncle. How gracious of you!
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