Chapter 40: Jinling City (17)
When it came to marriage, Lin Zikui had actually wanted to wait until after the Spring Imperial Examination.
Moreover, he felt that Xiao Zhaoling was hiding something from him—and there were still things he himself hadn’t confirmed about Xiao Fu. But at this point, there was absolutely no way he could go back on the engagement.
As they walked back onto the boat, Lin Zikui tentatively said, “Zhao Ling, how about we wait until the Spring Examination resumes before we get married? If we return to Fengtai County now, you’d be the wife of a graduate; but once the exam is held, you’ll be the wife of a jinshi. I… I promised you back then that I’d make you the wife of a jinshi.”
Xiao Fu turned his head to look at him and said, “Who knows when the Spring Exam will resume? What if it takes one year, two years? If we keep waiting and I get old, and by then you find me undesirable, what am I supposed to do?”
“…You won’t. I swear to the heavens.”
“In any case, I’m already at this age, and I still haven’t gotten married—” he coughed lightly, “—still not wed, still haven’t taken a spouse. I can’t wait anymore, Lin Lang. We’ve already done everything a couple does,” Xiao Fu bent down and gripped his hand. He knew Lin Zikui would marry him. “I want no one but you.”
Note: haven’t gotten married as in marrying a girl over since he’s talking from a man’s pov. so he changed to still not wed as in a girl marrying to a guy’s.
Xiao Zhaoling’s voice sounded more and more masculine—clear and bright when raised, low and magnetic when deep.
Lin Zikui’s head was still a mess.
After returning to the boat, Xiao Fu pulled out an almanac and flipped through it page by page, marking down all the dates favorable for marriage. “How about the fifth of the second lunar month?”
Lin Zikui, “That’s too soon. I haven’t even prepared anything.”
“Then the eighteenth of the second month?” Xiao Fu figured he would still be busy with palace affairs—Emperor Wen Tai’s death could be hidden for no more than ten days. Too many people knew; word would get out eventually.
Lin Zikui didn’t respond. Xiao Fu thought for a moment and said, “Then let’s go with the third month. Your birthday is on the sixth of the third month. Let’s marry on the fifteenth. You’ll be turning eighteen. I’ll return with you to Fengtai County that month and bring the betrothal gifts.”
“Betrothal gifts?” Lin Zikui asked.
“…Your silver note—that five hundred taels—and your ancestral property. Weren’t those the gifts you gave me? I’ll add a little more,” Xiao Fu was thinking of adding ten more property deeds, plus some gold and silver. “It’ll make up your dowry.”
Lin Zikui lowered his head. “There’s no need for you to contribute to the dowry.”
“I’ll still add a little something. Otherwise, how could my parents agree?”
“Mm…” Lin Zikui responded, but the thoughtful expression on his face showed he was deep in contemplation about something.
Xiao Fu saw it, but didn’t press him.
He returned to the palace. Lin Zikui remained by the banks of the Qinhuai River. There were no songs or performances. The chill of early spring lingered on the water, and the river was desolate and silent.
Xie Laosan came to change Lin Zikui’s medicine and wash his eye. “There’s actually nothing serious with the right eye anymore. We’ll continue adjusting the medicine gradually. Whether it can fully recover is hard to say, but it will definitely be better than before.”
“Thank you very much, Doctor,” Lin Zikui tilted his head back and let him do the treatment, allowing the gauze to be applied without any resistance at all.
At last, Xie Laosan said, “All right, you can open your right eye now.”
Lin Zikui slowly opened his eye. It had just been rinsed, and a layer of moisture still lingered. He blinked gently.
Xie Laosan looked down at him and thought to himself—no wonder that brat Zhao Ling was so obsessed. It wasn’t without reason.
Good looks, strong intellect, and a gentle temperament.
Lin Zikui seemed to have something he wanted to ask. He called out, “Doctor Xie…”
“Hmm? Is there something you want to ask?”
“There’s one thing,” Lin Zikui didn’t know whether he should ask it or not, but after hesitating, he finally voiced it. “You’re Zhao Ling’s senior brother so he’s your junior brother?”
Junior brother.
That phrasing was quite tactful.
Xie Laosan didn’t dare to answer directly. He didn’t want to meddle in Xiao Fu’s affairs—if he let something slip and scared Lin Zikui away, what if Xiao Zhaoling went crazy?
Just a few days ago, he’d gone berserk and tried to kill Emperor Wen Tai—all because Lin Zikui had an exam to take.
If Lin Zikui ran away, what would happen next… Xie Laosan didn’t even dare imagine it.
So he answered in a similarly vague tone: “He was the last disciple taken in by my master. But he was poisoned as a child and lost his sense of taste, so the medical path wasn’t really suitable for him. My master then found him another teacher to train in martial arts instead. His martial skills are quite good. Among the younger generation in the martial world, he’s considered one of the top talents.”
Lin Zikui looked at him with his one black eye, staring in a daze as he listened.
“He… has no sense of taste?”
“You didn’t know?” Xie Laosan only then realized he had let it slip.
“I thought… he was just picky, didn’t like to eat, so I kept trying to buy tasty food for him.” Lin Zikui’s voice lowered, his expression stunned, as if he suddenly understood why Xiao Zhaoling always only took a bite or two of anything. Why that day when he kissed him, he had smiled so happily and said he finally knew what sweetness tasted like. Lin Zikui had never even considered the possibility until now.
“…Then don’t go telling anyone I was the one who told you,” Xie Laosan said hurriedly.
“Mm, I understand.”
Xie Laosan said, “That Zhao Ling… his temperament, well, he’s kind of a handful…”
Lin Zikui interjected, “I don’t think he’s difficult.”
“Uh… alright, not difficult.” Xie Laosan conceded. Truly, this half-blind fellow could even say something like that with a straight face.
He continued, “He really is good to you.”
Lin Zikui nodded. Xiao Zhaoling’s kindness was ever-present—so much so that Lin Zikui didn’t dare ask him directly. Instead, he came here to Xie Laosan, hoping to find out something by roundabout means.
He feared that if he asked, something between them would change.
Lin Zikui couldn’t help sighing, unsure of what to do.
Xie Laosan packed up his medicine chest and, before leaving, said, “Young Master Lin, if you’re thinking of hiding from him, then you’d best never let him find you in this lifetime. Change your name, vanish completely. Because if he does find you, there’ll be no escaping. Best just forget I said anything.”
“…Thank you for the warning, sir.”
After Master Xie closed the door and left, Lin Zikui sat quietly at the edge of the couch, unmoving, until Mo Liu entered and said, “Young Master, why is the examination hall shut down? I saw the notice!”
“Mm. It’s closed. That’s a good thing,” Lin Zikui sat up straight. “The Spring Imperial Exam has been delayed. Since Prime Minister Xue resigned and returned home after observing the monastery, I plan to take a trip to Huainan to learn from him.”
Mo Liu lit up with excitement. “We’re going back to Fengtai County? When do we leave?!”
“In the next few days… Once Zhao Ling returns, I’ll tell him I’m going back home first.”
Mo Liu nodded eagerly and began rummaging through the chests and drawers. “Remember how we came to Jinling with barely a coin to our name, tightening our belts just to get by? Now our luggage’s doubled—most of it gifts from Miss Xiao. Clothes, tiny windmills, a chess set, hair ornaments, jade pins, ancient guqin music scores—we can’t even take it all…”
Yes, there was far too much.
Lin Zikui said softly, “Leave it. No need to bring them. We’ll come back to Jinling eventually.”
Mo Liu gave a thoughtful “Oh,” and said, “That makes sense. I’ll pack up the books then—” He was about to do so when Lin Zikui suddenly remembered something and stood up to stop him. “Wait, Mo Liu, let me do it. I don’t really have… anything else to do anyway.”
He had just remembered that Xiao Zhaoling had left a few indecent books in his possession. There was no way he could let Mo Liu see those.
Meanwhile, Xiao Fu had returned to the palace, only to receive some news.
Liang Gonggong reported, “Royal Father, Prince Zhao turned back as soon as he heard that Prince Yunnan was bringing thirty thousand troops. But he did send a letter to the late Emperor, asking that the Emperor write back.”
Emperor Wen Tai was already dead. Xiao Fu opened the letter and, as expected, it asked Yuwen Duo to help him locate his young son.
The letter also read: “My son is in the hands of Marquis Dingbei. His fate is uncertain. The Marquis intends to use him to blackmail me. I have brought troops in hopes of rescuing him. I have now withdrawn to Tongmu Pass. As soon as His Majesty rescues my son, I will immediately return to my domain. I give you my word.”
Prince Zhao wanted the throne, but in his heart, his son was just as important.
After reading, Xiao Fu began rummaging through the stack of memorials in the imperial study, pulling out a bunch of memorials with Yuwen Duo’s handwriting.
“Liang Hong, go fetch a few Hanlin scholars.”
Liang Gonggong responded at once and left. Xiao Fu sat down, picked up a brush, called for a young eunuch to grind the ink, and wrote:
“Prince Zhao, your son—I’ve made note of it. Withdraw to your domain within three days. If you don’t, you die.”
The Hanlin scholars soon arrived. Xiao Fu tossed the documents at them and said, “Copy these.”
The elderly scholars of the Hanlin Academy trembled with fear. One of them refused to write, so Xiao Fu had him dragged out and ordered back to the Hanlin Academy.
The rest, though scared stiff, had no choice but to write. One of them couldn’t recognize a character and asked, “Your Highness, what character is this?”
“You can’t read? It’s ‘fief.’”
His handwriting was so messy, the Hanlin scholar didn’t recognize it at first.
Once they finished, Xiao Fu handed the results to Liang Hong. “Liang Gonggong, which one most resembles Yuwen Duo’s handwriting?”
The Regent’s decisiveness in handling affairs deeply shocked Liang Hong. If Xiao Fu wanted the throne, wouldn’t it be his for the taking?
Liang Hong selected one and hesitated. “Royal Father… but this doesn’t really sound like something the late Emperor would say.” Yuwen Duo would never so bluntly threaten Prince Zhao with death.
“Then let it not sound like him,” Xiao Fu said indifferently. “Let him guess. That paranoid bastard—if he can’t figure it out, he won’t be able to sleep. If he dares to march into Jinling, it’ll be rebellion. Just the excuse we need to kill him. If he doesn’t dare come, then let him crawl back to his little territory.”
Liang Hong, “But what if Prince Zhao… raises an army in his domain?”
Xiao Fu’s voice turned cold: “If he dares rebel, I’ll kill his son and offer his blood to the heavens.”
At this moment, Prince Zhao was like an ant on a hot pan—burning with anxiety.
The palace was like an impenetrable fortress—not even a mosquito could get in.
The spies that Prince Zhao had planted in the palace had been rooted out and executed just the night before. Xiao Fu would rather mistakenly kill an innocent than let a guilty one slip through—now, a heavy stench of blood lingered throughout the imperial palace.
As of now, there was still no word from Prince Zhao. With the city gates sealed shut and dark clouds looming over the capital, he was filled with anxiety and had begun to consider a few possible scenarios:
First, Xu Hui had succeeded—Emperor Wen Tai was dead.
Second, the plan had failed, and Xu Hui had confessed everything.
Third, Xu Hui had turned traitor, and this was an elaborate ruse—an empty city trick designed to lure him inside, only to close the gates and trap him like a dog.
Now, neither retreat nor advance was an option. On top of that, he feared his son might have been captured by Marquis Dingbei and subjected to torture and interrogation.
Night had fallen, but there were still many matters awaiting Xiao Fu’s attention.
When he was still outside the palace, Empress Dowager Xiao had been grief-stricken and issued an imperial decree ordering Consort Xu to be buried with Emperor Wen Tai—bestowing upon her a three-foot white silk to hang herself. Her son, Yuwen Xuan, was thrown into the Cold Palace and sentenced to three years of confinement, forbidden to leave!
The decree had already been issued. Xiao Fu asked casually, “And the Second Prince?”
Liang Gonggong sneaked a glance at Xiao Fu’s expression and replied, “Perhaps… he’s already been moved to the Cold Palace.”
“And Consort Xu? Is she dead?”
“She should be, yes.”
Xiao Fu thought for a moment. “Liang Hong, go check on her. If she’s not dead yet, secretly send her to Ningguta. Find someone to watch over her.”
Liang Gonggong was shocked.
Ningguta had always been a place of exile for criminals—yet the Prince Regent wanted to spare Consort Xu’s life?
Liang Gonggong had served by the Emperor’s side for many years and often said that serving the ruler was like walking on thin ice beside a tiger. Still, he had steadily risen to become the chief steward. No one was better at reading the mood than him. Now, judging from the Prince Regent’s words… could it be he intended to make the Second Prince the new emperor?
Sure enough, Xiao Fu asked again, “In the Cold Palace, is there anyone attending the Second Prince?”
“Only a single eunuch from the Cold Palace, responsible for sweeping. Shall I send two palace maids and a nursemaid to serve him?”
“No need,” Xiao Fu said without looking up. “Let him endure the hardship.”
By the latter half of the night, Xiao Fu still hadn’t slept. He sat at his desk going through the backlog of memorials. The more he read, the more irritable he became. This role of Emperor—it truly wasn’t something ordinary people could handle.
The young eunuch standing at the front had already begun nodding off, sneaking yawns one after another.
By the fourth watch, around 3 a.m., Xiao Fu left the palace. He instructed Liang Hong, “Tomorrow afternoon at the Shen hour (3–5 p.m.), I’ll return to the palace. Take the Crown Prince, the Third Prince, and the Fourth Prince to the mounted archery field. I want to test their martial skills.”
The carriage took him back to the Qinhuai River. As soon as he stepped onto the boat, Jinzun, awakened by the noise, emerged in his underclothes. He pushed open the door and looked up at the moonlight pouring down. “Marquis, why are you back at this hour?”
“What do you think?” Xiao Fu removed his cloak, letting the chill of the river breeze brush past him. “How late did Young Master Lin play chess with you tonight?”
“You told me not to let him keep playing. I stopped at the third quarter of the Hai hour (around 10:45 p.m.), well before midnight. After that, he stayed under the covers reading with a lamp.”
“Didn’t he have the attendant read to him? Reading under the covers?” Xiao Fu sounded intrigued. “What was he reading? The Book of Songs again?”
“No, it was a storybook.”
“A storybook?” Xiao Fu paused mid-step and turned around. “What kind of storybook—words, or pictures?”
“Well…” Jinzun struggled to explain. He more or less understood what it was, but this wasn’t his area of expertise. “Young Master Lin put it back after reading. I saw it. It was drawn by that man Wuge captured earlier—the one who draws books. Two people, like… like this.”
He gestured animatedly with both hands, trying to demonstrate. Xiao Fu raised a hand to stop him. “Alright, stop it. I know what it is.”
That Lin Zikui…
The flower lanterns hanging under the eaves swayed gently, casting flickering reflections on the river’s surface. Xiao Fu shook his head, then chuckled softly before asking, “How long did he read it?”
Jinzun answered honestly, “He read it under the covers for less than a quarter of an hour. Then he put it back, peeked at it a few more times… and muttered something like—‘this is an insult to scholars’—before burying himself under the covers.”
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thanks for the update xoxo