Chapter 49: Fengtai County (7)
It was a short letter, one that could be read in just two glances, but Xiao Fu read it over and over again. Even after the lamp had been blown out at night, he still sat up to light it again and read.
It felt as if Lin Zikui was right there beside him, saying those words to him.
He lifted his head to glance at the quiet moonlight outside the window—”Though miles apart, we share this moment under the same moon.”
The next morning, Xiao Fu immediately prepared to leave the palace and return to Huainan. Before departing, he ordered someone to deliver the memorial and Young Lord Zhao, along with the letter assuring his father of their safety, to Hanyang.
“Keep a close watch on Prince Zhao’s every move. If he’s secretly recruiting troops or manufacturing firearms, send a pigeon message to Commander Chen immediately. Raising a tiger brings danger; harboring an enemy only invites trouble. When the time is right, the thorn that is Prince Zhao should be removed.”
Just as Xiao Fu was about to leave the palace, he suddenly heard a child’s voice shouting, “Royal Father! Royal Father!”
The voice was youthful and sweet—who else could it be but the Fourth Prince?
Xiao Fu looked over and saw Yuwen Yun running toward him with his little legs in the early morning light, a eunuch chasing behind, calling, “Prince Kang, Prince Kang! Please slow down!”
As soon as the eunuch saw Xiao Fu standing beneath the white jade steps of the palace hall, he dropped to his knees from a distance and slid forward on the ground. “Greetings, Your Grace! His Highness insisted on seeing you—I truly couldn’t stop him.”
Xiao Fu ignored the eunuch. He bent down and caught the little bundle in his arms. The Fourth Prince threw himself against him, panting, “Royal Father.”
Xiao Fu squatted down. “Yun’er, why are you up so early? Skipping your lessons? Not going to practice martial arts with Commander Chen? What are you doing here with Royal Father?”
“Royal Father, my Mother Consort is sick,” the little prince said with a gloomy face.
Xiao Fu replied, “Shall I have Imperial Physician Zhang go take a look at your Mother Consort?”
“Physician Zhang already came. Second Brother knew she was ill and sent him over. But she’s still sick. The maids won’t let me see her!”
“What kind of illness is it?” Xiao Fu looked up and asked the eunuch.
The young eunuch stammered, “Reporting to Your Grace, it’s tuberculosis. The maids stopped Prince Kang because… because it was the Empress Dowager’s order.”
Tuberculosis was contagious, and Prince Kang was only just over three years old. If he caught it, it would be disastrous.
Xiao Fu thought, he had just sent Third Master to Huainan. It wouldn’t be appropriate to summon him back now to treat the Consort. Besides, tuberculosis was rarely curable.
The Fourth Prince said, “I heard the palace maids say that Mother Consort started coughing after Imperial Father left. They said… they said Imperial Father wants to take her away. So I want to beg Imperial Father not to take her—let her stay with me.” He held tightly onto Xiao Fu’s large hand, his big eyes misty with tears. “I know Royal Father is going to the Imperial Mausoleum. Can you take me with you?”
Ah, that’s right—Xiao Fu had used the excuse of having dreamed of the late emperor the night before, who summoned him to the mausoleum, as a reason to leave the palace.
Xiao Fu softened his voice. “You can’t go to the mausoleum. You’re too young. The place is full of cold, yin energy. If you go, you’ll fall ill too.”
“Then falling ill is fine. I’ll ask Imperial Father to take me instead. Just not Mother Consort.”
“Yun’er, you’re so filial. Royal Father will help you plead with your Imperial Father, ask him not to take her. But as for whether he listens or not… that I cannot say.” Xiao Fu didn’t want to take the Fourth Prince to the mausoleum because he wasn’t going at all. Even passing by that place was ominous to him.
The little prince’s eyes filled with tears. The palace servants said Mother Consort was sick, that Imperial Father would take her away, and he would never see her again. Though young, he had some vague understanding of what “death” meant.
Royal Father had important matters to attend to. After patting his small head, he let go and left. The young eunuch gently tugged at him, “Your Highness, we should return to the palace now.”
In the blink of an eye, it was early May, and the pomegranate blossoms at the Xue residence had begun to bloom.
At the end of the month, Lin Zikui had two days off, but Xiao Zhaoling never came. Classes resumed.
His teacher seemed to know something and said to him, “Your ‘wife’ is constantly occupied. Don’t wait anymore. When it’s time to go to Jinling for the exam, you’ll see him then.”
As for the matter of his “wife” actually being a man, neither Prime Minister Xue nor Lin Zikui ever brought it up. It was a mutual understanding, unspoken.
Lin Zikui hesitated for a long time before asking, “Teacher, do you know why he returned to Jinling?”
Prime Minister Xue replied, “Of course—it’s to visit his family. He has many household affairs to tend to. You don’t even know who he really is. You’ve never met his parents, and yet you had the courage to marry him?”
“I don’t have parents either. Besides… I don’t dare visit his home or meet his parents or family.” Lin Zikui was afraid they’d throw him out the door.
After all, their precious son had married him and was now being called “wife.”
At Prime Minister Xue’s estate, Lin Zikui wasn’t just learning traditional Confucian texts. He was being taught real statecraft—governance, strategies, the power factions in court, and how to deal with corrupt officials while preserving his own position.
“Before your wings have fully grown, you must keep your light hidden, even play along with others if necessary.”
This was a truth Lin Zikui had nearly paid for with his life.
He now fully understood—being sharp and showing off one’s brilliance was not always a good thing.
“I will remember your teachings, Teacher. Until I am promoted to a third-rank official, I will remain low-key and discreet. I estimate it’ll take at least ten years.” A third-rank official was already considered high-ranking and eligible for the emperor’s trust and favor.
His brother Tang was a fourth-rank grand academician who often advised the late emperor directly. But recently, Lin Zikui hadn’t heard much news about him.
Prime Minister Xue looked at him through the Ai Dai and said, “I doubt it’ll take ten years. Your promotion will come quickly.”
Lin Zikui was startled for a moment, then said immediately, “Teacher, please don’t help me. I won’t use your name in Jinling to pull strings either.”
“I wouldn’t help you even if you begged, what help can I give with promotions? I don’t have anyone in the palace.”
“Yes—yes, I was overthinking!” Lin Zikui’s cheeks flushed a light red. He guessed that his teacher was subtly praising his knowledge, suggesting he would rise quickly in rank in the future.
On the fifth day, the entire Xue family went to the bustling Tiefo Temple nearby to offer incense. Lin Zikui went along too. The vast Xue residence was mostly filled with womenfolk; the male members were either in-lawed husbands or two who remained in Jinling as officials.
As someone with a wife, Lin Zikui stayed at the very back, maintaining a slight distance, avoiding too much contact with the Xue women.
Xiao Fu’s carriage arrived outside the Xue residence, and upon asking the gate guard, he learned:
“The whole household has gone to Tiefo Temple to offer incense? Will they return after the vegetarian meal?”
“The Old Madam wants to stay and listen to a sermon. She’ll likely stay a few days. And you are… Young Master Lin’s elder brother?”
Although Xiao Fu’s beauty was androgynous, it was still clear he was a man. The guard naturally didn’t connect him with the “wife” that Young Master Lin always mentioned.
Xiao Fu didn’t answer, just gave thanks and tipped some silver before instructing the coachman, “To Tiefo Temple.”
Lin Zikui offered his prayers, but he didn’t ask for anything.
After all, he had already prayed for success in the civil service exams at the Taoist temple of Xingzhi Temple—he couldn’t very well ask again at a Buddhist temple, could he?
Wait.
Suddenly, Lin Zikui remembered that there was indeed something he wanted to ask for.
He knelt before the Buddha Shakyamuni, and in his heart, he thought of Zhao Ling:
“I don’t know when my wife will return. If only the imperial exams could resume sooner, I could go to Jinling to visit him. May the Buddha bless me to see him again soon.”
After offering incense, he went to request a protective charm with ash from the inner altar.
A young lady from the Xue family saw him and asked softly, “Young Master Lin is here to ask for a charm too?”
“It’s for my wife,” Lin Zikui replied.
The young lady smiled, “If it’s for your wife, I think the pink lotus design is nice. The pomegranate red one is also lovely.”
Lin Zikui smiled slightly. “Let’s go with pomegranate red, then. Thank you, Miss Xue.” He bid her a polite farewell, and she reminded him, “It’s past midday—the dining hall will close soon. You and your attendant, and your bodyguard haven’t eaten yet, right?”
After thanking her again, Lin Zikui left. The young lady watched his departing figure and said,
“My mother always told me to choose my own husband. But no matter how I pick—those with good looks lack talent, those with talent lack looks. Even when both are present, their character often disappoints. And now, the one who’s perfect in every way already has a wife.”
Because Lin Zikui mentioned “his wife” at every turn, the entire Xue household already knew. Prime Minister Xue’s student, Young Master Lin, was married—and he loved his wife dearly.
Tiefo Temple was vibrant with worshippers, no smaller than Xingzhi Temple. With the fifth day being an auspicious time for prayer, the place was crowded. Xiao Fu had to spend some effort searching, so he blew his whistle.
The sound wasn’t sharp and was soon buried in the bustling sea of incense-burning worshippers.
Most people didn’t notice—except Jinzun, who had been following Lin Zikui to the dining hall.
Jinzun stopped in his tracks, ears perked up, and looked in a specific direction.
Lin Zikui turned back and called, “Jinzun? Why did you stop? Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Young Master Lin…” Jinzun recalled the Marquis’s order not to leave his side for even a moment, so he reached out and grabbed Lin Zikui’s wrist. “Come with me.”
Mo Liu shouted, “Hey! We’re not going to the dining hall? Young Master’s already hungry!”
“Come with me,” Jinzun repeated stubbornly. Lin Zikui, being pulled along, had no choice but to comply with a sigh. “Fine, fine. Where are you taking me?”
Tiefo Temple was bustling. Jinzun pointed through the crowd. “Over there.”
“What?” Lin Zikui adjusted his single-lens Ai Dai on the bridge of his nose and looked in the direction. Under a centuries-old tree in the distance, camellia blossoms were in full bloom—and someone dressed in red stood out vividly among them.
Lin Zikui took off his Ai Dai and rubbed his eyes.
When he put it back on, he saw Zhao Ling waving at him: “What are you standing there for? Aren’t you coming over?”
He was dressed in men’s clothing. Lin Zikui thought, If I run over shouting “wife,” won’t I attract attention?
So he walked straight over, taking large, brisk steps.
Mo Liu wanted to follow but was stopped by Jinzun, who grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?! Young Master! Young Master, hey!”
Jinzun didn’t answer—he simply shook his head at him.
Lin Zikui moved through the crowd and came to stand before Xiao Fu. His eyelashes fluttered, and a thin mist formed over his single Ai Dai lens. As he got closer, Xiao Fu removed the lens with both hands, wiped it clean with his sleeve, and gently placed it back on Lin Zikui’s face. Xiao Fu leaned down slightly and turned his head to study him. The Ai Dai gave Lin Zikui a different air entirely.
If not for the fact that this place was full of people coming and going, Xiao Fu might not have been able to resist kissing him right then and there.
But all Xiao Fu could do was gently tug at Lin Zikui’s palm. Lin Zikui looked around nervously, glancing left and right, clearly afraid someone might see them. This was his first time being in a relationship with a man—it made him feel like a guilty thief.
Seeing how anxious he was, Xiao Fu loosened his grip after scratching his palm a few times and said,
“Lin Lang, this Ai Dai really suits you.”
Lin Zikui’s fingers, still tucked in his sleeve, curled slightly. They still held the warmth from Zhao Ling’s touch. He nodded, “I think it suits me too. I can see clearly with it now. How did you know I was at Tiefo Temple?”
“I asked the Xue residence’s gate guard. I didn’t want to just sit there waiting, so I came myself.”
Lin Zikui tilted his head up to look at him, “Then… have you finished your business in Jinling?”
“Not yet. I made some time to come back.”
Lin Zikui’s eyes widened: “Then… are you going to leave again?”
Xiao Fu didn’t answer that. Instead, he asked: “How’s your left eye?”
“Much better. Master Xie said I should be able to remove the bandage next month. Once I get another Ai Dai lens, I should be able to see properly again.”
“Is that so? Then I have news too. When I was in Jinling, I heard that the court is about to release an official notice—there will be an imperial exam in August. In a few days, you’ll be able to return with me.”
“Really?!” Even though Lin Zikui only had vision in one eye, reading and writing were no longer an issue. Hearing this, his face lit up with joy: “That’s wonderful! I’ll go to Jinling with you. But… what about Teacher…”
“He’ll come with us too,” Xiao Fu said.
He attended court every day and handled palace affairs. If Prime Minister Xue didn’t accompany Lin Zikui to teach him, Lin Zikui would surely spend his days lost in wandering thoughts.
Lin Zikui: “But Teacher is getting older… the journey to Jinling is long, I’m afraid it’ll be too tiring for him.”
“He can handle it. He’s only sixty-five—he said so himself.”
“Really…” Lin Zikui looked doubtful.
“Really.” Xiao Fu took hold of his sleeve and led him into a quieter corner. Once they were hidden from sight, he held his hand again and casually asked, “Lin Lang, has the Gu worm been itching lately?”
He was referring to the worm Lin Zikui had swallowed earlier. It would flare up from time to time, causing an unbearable itching sensation.
Lin Zikui nodded honestly, “It happened once.”
“Where?”
Lin Zikui hesitated, unsure if he should say it—it was a bit embarrassing. Seeing this, Xiao Fu raised a brow, “Can’t say?”
“I can… it was the back hole. It’s looser than before. It passed after about the time it takes two sticks of incense to burn.”
“The back hole? You mean here?” Xiao Fu looked around and, seeing no one nearby except birds in the trees, reached out and touched him there. Lin Zikui was so startled he nearly jumped in the air, smacking Xiao Fu’s hand away in panic.
Even after getting hit, Xiao Fu only laughed. He adjusted the Ai Dai lens that had slipped down Lin Zikui’s nose and lowered his voice to ask, “Was it in the front or the back? Did it hurt?” If he’d known this earlier, he wouldn’t have bothered with that whole mess about Prince Zhao rebelling—he would’ve returned sooner just to massage it for him.
Just imagining it gave Xiao Fu a strange thrill.
“The back…” Lin Zikui frowned and abruptly turned away, refusing to say more. “Master Xie said it won’t flare up again. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Author’s Note:
Xiao Fu: What’s a little rebellion compared to my Lin Lang’s itchy little back hole?
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