Chapter 34: Jinling City (11)
The Qinhuai River stretched on endlessly, packed with boats one after another, flowing like an endless woven stream.
With the spring imperial examinations approaching, scholars from all over the land were heading to Jinling. The Empress Dowager’s birthday also fell in the first month, drawing officials from across the realm to the capital.
Despite the noise and crowds, the Qinhuai River’s pleasure boats, teeming with people and gossip, were ironically the most suitable place to discuss matters in secret.
Xiao Fu’s boat blended into the crowd and drew no attention.
Xie Laosan, reminded of the message the Empress Dowager had entrusted to him, was about to call for Xiao Fu. But then he saw the two of them—Xiao Fu and Lin Zikui—sitting shoulder to shoulder at the stern of the boat. Lin Zikui was watching the courtesan on a nearby boat play the pipa when he suddenly asked, “Xiao Lang, is my zither on board?”
He changed the way he addressed him smoothly. He was worried that if he didn’t get used to it now, he might slip up once they were ashore—better to start the habit early.
As soon as Xiao Fu heard it, his heart melted, as soft as a pool of water. Only Lin Zikui could stir such feelings in him. This Zikui… even the reason he gave for switching to calling him “Young Master” had left Xiao Fu completely baffled.
“The zither is on the boat. Don’t tell me you’re planning to duet with that courtesan?”
Lin Zikui shook his head. “I just thought—you like listening to music, so I wanted to play for you.”
His uncovered left eye turned toward Xiao Fu, dark and crystal clear. “I can play a little, though not as well as professional musicians. If you don’t like it, I’ll just play a short tune.”
“It’s fine. Whatever Zikui plays, I’ll love to hear it,” Xiao Fu replied, then called out, “Jinzun, go get the zither.”
“The zither.” Jinzun quickly brought it over. He rarely smiled, and with a stern expression carried the instrument in his arms. He was short in stature. Mo Liu had tried several times to strike up a conversation with this fellow “short man,” but hadn’t gotten anywhere.
Outside, Lin Zikui tuned the zither while Mo Liu sat inside, head buried as he munched on fruit.
The boat’s interior was lavish and exquisitely decorated. Lin Zikui’s poor vision meant he didn’t notice, but Mo Liu saw clearly—Miss Zhao Ling might not be from an official’s family, but the wealth she displayed was no less than that of Lord Xiao’s household.
He picked up a celadon vase used for flower arrangements. Its glaze was lustrous and serene, and the green hue was pleasing to the eye. At the bottom, the words “Made by Imperial Order of Emperor Xuanzheng” were engraved.
“Xuanzheng? Imperial Order… Then—then this is a gift from Emperor Xuanzheng himself?!” Mo Liu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
What kind of household could possess such an imperial gift?
Just as he was about to take a closer look, the short man carrying twin maces who always followed Zhao Ling entered the cabin.
Mo Liu immediately set the vase down, afraid of appearing disrespectful and embarrassing his young master.
“Want to eat with me?” Mo Liu scratched his head and asked, “This pear’s really sweet.”
“No,” Jinzun replied quietly and sat down. His sharp gaze swept across the passing boats outside the window like a leopard ready to strike.
Jinling was filled with hidden dangers. He had to ensure the safety of the Marquis and Young Master Lin.
At the stern, Lin Zikui finished tuning the zither and turned to ask, “Xiao Lang, what do you like to hear?”
“Anything is fine,” Xiao Fu replied. Truth was, the kind of songs he enjoyed weren’t fit for public ears. If Lin Zikui knew, he’d probably be shocked.
Lin Zikui thought for a moment. “How about ‘Plum Blossom Prelude’?”
“Very good.”
Lin Zikui gave a soft hum of agreement. His hands rested gently on the strings, and his fingertips began to pluck softly, producing a solemn and deep melody.
On both riverbanks, red plum blossoms bloomed. The bare spring willows reflected in the water, while scattered plum petals drifted downstream.
Amid the withered foliage, only the plum trees stood tall with unyielding spirit, blooming proudly against the cold. The music flowed steadily, riding the wind, as Xiao Fu’s gaze slowly moved from his fingers to his calm and graceful profile.
The plum was the purest of flowers, the zither the purest of sounds, and this man—he was the purest soul in the world.
The music drifted far. On a nearby boat, Grand Secretary Xu was sitting inside a secluded room, where incense burned and flowers were arranged. Despite the elegant setting, the atmosphere was tense.
The pure sound of the zither reached his ears and made him turn slightly.
“‘Plum Blossom Prelude’… The one playing must be someone as noble as the flower itself.”
But this remark only seemed to irritate the burly man seated across from him, who slammed his palm down on the table.
“Xu Hui! My son has been missing for almost a month, and you still haven’t found him! And now you bring me to this refined nonsense of a place? You! What use are you to me?!”
“Prince Zhao,” Xu Hui turned his head and stared back at him, “have faith—His Highness is blessed and likely in Xiao Fu’s hands. Xiao Fu won’t hurt him. But my son… he’s still being tortured in the imperial prison. Back then, when the prince got impulsive and smuggled Western insect powder into the capital, I trusted you had a plan—to shift the blame onto Marquis Dingbei. The crown prince is still young, and Your Highness is in your prime. Many senior officials in court support you taking the throne. It should’ve been a done deal.”
Yet, the three hundred death warriors were lost. The young prince was captured. And Xiao Fu? Who knows where he’s enjoying himself.
“Grand Secretary Xu, His Majesty already suspects you. Your son is imprisoned, and even Minister Luo drowned himself, yet the emperor still won’t let him go. The ruler’s mind is hard to predict. My ninth brother—do you not know what he’s planning?” Prince Zhao pulled out a jar and pushed it toward Xu Hui, face stern. “Enough. Let’s go all in.”
“This… This is the mother insect for the gu?” Xu Hui’s expression flickered.
“Yes. I obtained this rare gu from a master. He said, bring it near the emperor, and then the mother insect—” Prince Zhao leaned in and whispered, “Tomorrow night, at the palace banquet. In front of all eyes, the emperor will collapse. No culprit, no trace. Not even the spirits will know.”
Emperor Wen Tai was still young. He had neither chosen an empress nor appointed a crown prince. If he left no edict, Prince Zhao—with his influence and army—could surround Jinling, storm the palace in mourning, and seize the throne.
On Xiao Fu’s boat, Lin Zikui was changing clothes in the cabin while Xiao Fu stood at the bow, unfolding the letter that Xie Laosan had brought.
“The Empress Dowager said that if I have time, I can attend the palace banquet these next few days. She said the emperor can remove the gu, and I’ll be honored for great service.” Xiao Fu casually flicked the letter. Xie Laosan said, “Looks like she wants you and the emperor to reconcile.”
“Mm.” Xiao Fu’s lips curved into a smile. He’d had a few drinks earlier—his cheeks were faintly flushed.
Xie Laosan shook his head. “That elder sister of yours isn’t a bad person—she just can’t control her son. But what can she do? Yuwen Duo is the emperor. If he dies, I’m afraid peace across the realm will turn to chaos.”
Xiao Fu spoke in a calm voice, “Even if he doesn’t die, there will still be chaos. Prince Zhao’s troops are approaching the city, and my grandfather is also leading his forces this way. At the earliest, they’ll reach the outskirts of Jinling by tomorrow night.”
How could Prince Zhao’s troops ever compare to the battle-hardened soldiers under Prince Yunnan?
Inside the cabin, Mo Liu peered through the screen and saw that his young master had finished changing clothes. He hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back.
The young master put on his fur cloak and walked out. Mo Liu quickly moved close and asked, “Young Master, did Miss Zhao ever tell you about his identity?”
“What about it? He’s from Yunnan and has several prominent relatives in Jinling. There are also members of his family serving as officials in Yunnan.”
Lin Zikui didn’t want anyone to think he was trying to climb the social ladder, so he hadn’t asked too many questions. As long as he knew that Zhao Ling came from a decent family, with both parents still alive, that was enough. He had wondered about how high Zhao Ling’s family stood, but never looked too deeply into it.
What he liked was Zhao Ling as a person, not his family background.
“Oh…” Mo Liu scratched his head, thinking about that imperial vase gifted by the late emperor, just casually placed on the floor—weren’t they afraid someone might accidentally kick it over? He couldn’t help but mutter, “Miss Zhao only has officials in the family? It can’t be that simple…”
Lin Zikui lowered his head and laughed softly, looking at him. “Mo Liu, what are you muttering about?”
“…Nothing. Young Master, wear more layers—it’s cold outside. You and Miss Zhao go walk around. I’ll stay here on the boat and wait for you.” Mo Liu hated the cold. It was his first time enjoying the Qinhuai River during the Lantern Festival night.
“Alright.” Lin Zikui lowered his head and put on his gauze hat. The white veil faintly covered his face, revealing only glimpses of his elegant features.
When he stepped out, Xiao Fu saw his appearance and was quite surprised. “Zikui, why are you covering your face?”
“I’m showing one eye and covering the other,” he said as he had looked in the mirror and thought it didn’t look nice. “There will be a lot of children out on the streets tonight—I’m afraid I might scare them.”
“How could you think that way?” Xiao Fu lifted the gauze, revealing his refined face. He couldn’t help but smile and tucked the gauze behind Lin Zikui’s ear, gently saying, “There are plenty of ugly children running around—I’m more worried they might bump into you and scare you.”
“Zhao Ling.” Lin Zikui let out a helpless laugh. “Children are all adorable—how can there be any ugly ones? I’ve offended people in Jinling, so it’s better if I keep my face covered.”
Xiao Fu, “Xu Zhuojun has already been thrown into the imperial prison. What are you still afraid of?”
Lin Zikui was surprised. “Xu Zhuojun’s in prison? When did this happen?”
Xiao Fu, “Yes. I just heard about it. He plotted against imperial officials and had no regard for the law—he’s been locked up for days.”
Lin Zikui lowered his gaze, seemingly deep in thought, and sighed. “A thousand miles of ice doesn’t form overnight. The downfall of the Xu faction won’t happen in a day either. Xu Zhuojun being imprisoned… it’s only a matter of time before he gets out.”
To that, Xiao Fu only responded, “Don’t worry. He’s not getting out.”
He had already sent people into the prison. Tomorrow, Xu Zhuojun would have his eyes gouged out, his tongue pulled, and his ears cut off.
Only then would Grand Secretary Xu, in his fury, lose all rational strategy and judgment.
“Let’s hope so…” The boat reached the shore. Lin Zikui let the veil fall back over his face. “The Xu family still has many followers. I don’t want to attract attention. Xiao Lang, let’s disembark.”
With his face covered, Lin Zikui indeed didn’t stand out. Unfortunately, Xiao Fu was too eye-catching.
Everyone they passed—young or old, men and women—turned their heads to look. The unmarried young ladies, in particular, whispered among themselves, “That young man is so handsome. Which family is he from? Why haven’t we seen him before?”
Lin Zikui vaguely heard bits and pieces along the way and thought to himself, “They’ve never seen Zhao Ling dressed as a woman. Now that’s truly stunning.”
“No wonder Zhao Ling prefers to dress as a man. If he wore women’s clothing, the streets would probably be jammed with people.”
Only Jinzun followed behind them. Lin Zikui knew he was tagging along and thought since he was just a child, he’d buy him some sugar figurines after they came ashore. He bought one shaped like a cute little mouse and handed it over, saying, “It’s the Year of the Rat. If you eat this sugar figurine, all your wishes will come true.”
Jinzun stared at the sugar figurine with a stunned expression.
Xiao Fu’s face darkened, and he shot a sharp glare at him.
Jinzun glanced at the marquis, then turned away with the sugar figurine in hand.
Xiao Fu looked after his back, then turned his gaze back to Lin Zikui, bending slightly, his voice muffled by the veil above Lin Zikui’s head. “You bought him one but not me?”
Lin Zikui replied, “I’m buying one. I’m literally standing here waiting to get it.”
Xiao Fu, “Oh.”
Under the light of lanterns, a pot of sugar syrup boiled and melted.
Lin Zikui only had one working eye and couldn’t see clearly. He lifted the veil a little to watch the old man making the sugar figurines. The man used both hands to work on two at once. Lin Zikui bought a basket-shaped one for Xiao Fu and a plain round sugar biscuit for himself.
Xiao Fu took the sugar basket and gave it a lick. It was sticky but had no flavor.
He glanced at the one in Lin Zikui’s hand. “Why doesn’t yours have any pattern?”
“I prefer a solid piece.” Lin Zikui had always been frugal. On rare occasions, when he bought sugar figurines, he’d only get the cheapest ones for himself and Mo Liu—just plain round sugar biscuits with no designs. The two together only cost one coin.
He couldn’t see well in the dark and held onto Xiao Fu’s sleeve with his right hand, the sugar biscuit in his left. He licked it slowly. He ate so gradually that the sweetness lingered in his mouth for a long time.
Xiao Fu couldn’t taste much from his own figurine. It made crisp crunching sounds in his mouth, and soon, it was gone.
Surrounded by lanterns and a sea of people on the street, Lin Zikui paused now and then. Noticing that Xiao Fu’s sugar figurine was already gone, he was surprised—it had been the biggest one, too.
“You finished it that fast? Do you want another? I can go buy one more.”
Xiao Fu looked at the sugar in Lin Zikui’s hand, which was still more than half left, and mused, “Zikui, does yours taste better than mine?”
“I don’t think so. They’re all the same. Mine’s just a bit thicker. There are other snacks too,” Lin Zikui tried to look closely but couldn’t really make out what else there was. Then something came to mind. “Do you want some fruit? I’ll get you some fruit.”
Xiao Fu shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t really like eating…” He often said things like this, but he had never told Lin Zikui the real reason—he had no sense of taste.
Lin Zikui knew he wasn’t fond of eating, but always assumed it was just because he was picky.
After all, who didn’t enjoy food? Everyone had their favorites.
For instance, Xiao Fu—Lin Zikui knew he liked alcohol.
He had already made him drink a few cups just now.
Xiao Fu asked, “Is the fruit good?”
“Mm, it’s good.” Lin Zikui nodded. Fruit was expensive in Jinling. He usually wouldn’t splurge on it, but now he said, “I’ll buy more for you to try.”
Xiao Fu replied, “I think your sugar looks tastier.”
Lin Zikui tugged on his hand. “Then shall I take you to buy some?”
“No need to waste another coin.” The gauzy veil of his hat fluttered in the wind, occasionally revealing a glimpse of Lin Zikui’s cheek, which under the lantern light looked rosy against his pale skin. Xiao Fu turned his head and stared at him, completely absorbed.
Through the thin veil, Lin Zikui met his gaze and shook his head. “It’s not a waste. I’ve got lots of coins. I can afford to buy whatever you want.”
“I don’t want that anymore.” Xiao Fu raised his hand and slowly lifted the white gauze.
“You… you still want mine?” Lin Zikui half-lifted the sugar, which glistened under the lanterns. He looked at Xiao Fu a little embarrassed. “But I already ate some of it…” It had his saliva on it.
He pulled his hand back. “I’ll go buy you a new one.”
“It’s fine.” Xiao Fu caught his wrist with one hand, lowered his head, and took a small lick from the sugar cake.
As always, there was no taste. But somehow, it felt like there was a little something this time.
Lin Zikui, “I told you, it’s the same…”
“Almost, but yours tastes a little better.” Xiao Fu straightened up slightly, his gaze landing on Lin Zikui’s lips, which were the same glossy, translucent color as the sugar—tempting and alluring.
People bustled around them in the crowd. Xiao Fu leaned in and gently let the gauze veil fall.
The white veil seemed to block out the entire world. The noise and distractions faded away, receding into the distance.
In that moment, Lin Zikui seemed to realize what he was about to do. His heart began to race. “Miss Zhao Ling…”
Xiao Fu’s voice came low and gentle. “Say ‘Xiao Lang.’”
Lin Zikui lifted his eyes. His gaze met Xiao Fu’s face, which was getting closer and closer. He couldn’t look away. “Xiao Lang…”
Xiao Fu softly responded with an “mm,” and then lowered his head to gently brush his lips against Lin Zikui’s. Lin Zikui couldn’t help but close his eyes. His cheeks burned, flushing red.
“We’re in the street,” he said in a trembling voice.
“I know. We’re in the street,” Xiao Fu murmured, then lightly licked his lips. It was as if he tasted something there, and went in again, slower this time, more deliberate. His warm, soft tongue was too gentle. Lin Zikui didn’t know what to do. His lips trembled and closed tightly. He opened his eyes, only to shut them quickly again. His whole body felt uncontrollably hot. The white veil was caught in the wind. Lin Zikui quickly pulled it down to cover them again.
But Xiao Fu didn’t stop. Lin Zikui pressed his lips together and tried to shy away in fear someone might see, but Xiao Fu persisted. He held his shoulder firmly, unrelenting. “Zikui, your lips… that’s sugar, isn’t it?”
“Mm… it is sugar. Same as the sugar basket you ate… so… I’ll give you this sugar cake instead.”
Xiao Fu stared closely at his fluttering lashes, his eyes bright. “Then I think I finally know… what sugar tastes like.”
Ciacia/N: no you don’t….stop giving out weird idea about kissing, it tastes like saliva nothing sweet like all of these scams!!!!.. Promise, i haven’t been scammed into this before….sweats
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