Chapter 52: Jinling City (21)
Before long, Lin Zikui had become Prince Shuo’s “beloved virtuous nephew.” Lin Zikui answered all of Prince Shuo’s questions honestly—where he lived, which was in a neighborhood near the Gongyuan, that he was living with his “wife,” and that the residence belonged to her.
“So you’re already married,” Prince Shuo muttered, “Then when your teacher arrives, he should stay here at my residence too. Since he’ll be giving you lessons, you should come to the Prince Shuo Residence. In fact, why not just bring your wife to stay here as well?”
All this talk, and what he really wanted was for his son Can’er to benefit from Lin Zikui’s teacher.
Yuwen Can was Prince Shuo’s only son. He had been intelligent as a child, but after suffering a high fever, his mind never fully recovered. He wasn’t quite mentally disabled, but no matter what they tried, he simply could not develop into a proper scholar.
This was the source of Prince Shuo’s deep anxiety. Especially now—Prime Minister Xue had written in the letter that his student had been personally recognized by the late emperor as someone fit to assist the throne. That left Prince Shuo full of doubt and suspicion. Was that true? When had Prime Minister Xue last met his father, the emperor who had now taken refuge in religion? And who was this Lin Zikui, that he had earned the appreciation of someone like that?
Duke Chang, seeing how warm and enthusiastic Prince Shuo was acting, frowned slightly. He couldn’t help but feel something was off.
Prince Shuo was always known to be approachable, yes—but this level of special treatment, just because Lin Zikui was Prime Minister Xue’s student? That was unlike him.
“Lin… What was his full name again?” Duke Chang couldn’t recall it for the moment. Young Master Yan, sitting beside him, helpfully reminded, “Uncle, it’s Lin Zikui.”
Duke Chang said, “Ah, Lin Zikui. What’s his background?”
Young Master Yan leaned back with ease. “Oh, he’s got quite the background.”
Duke Chang shot him a look. “Are you playing riddles with me, boy?”
Meanwhile, Lin Zikui had been forcibly kept behind by Prince Shuo to drink and make merry. Despite being treated with such high regard by someone of noble status, he didn’t let it go to his head. He only sipped lightly and politely declined more after a few rounds.
Prince Shuo could pour drinks, but he had nothing else to talk about—there was no overlap with Lin Zikui, a scholar, in terms of topics. The banquet was full of cultural blunders from the prince. Whenever Lin Zikui brought up a classical reference, the prince would mistake it for the name of a girl in an opera. The others around the table were laughing at him, but Lin Zikui didn’t join in. After all, this level of cultural literacy was about the same as his “wife”—he couldn’t even recite a single poem from the Book of Songs. There was nothing funny about that.
As the wine cups clinked and time grew late, Jinzun came in once to call for his young master.
He always spoke plainly. His message was: it’s time to go.
Lin Zikui had already tried to leave several times, but Prince Shuo had subtly blocked him each time. Now, upon seeing Jinzun, he called out loudly, “So you’re the guard, eh? Such a small guard. Go fetch your young master’s wife. Tell her Prince Shuo invites her to join us!”
Jinzun furrowed his brows, clearly on the verge of losing his temper.
Lin Zikui panicked slightly. How could his Xiao Lang possibly show himself like this? He quickly said, “Your Highness, my… my wife, he… he’s ill and not fit to meet guests. Yes, he’s unwell, so I really must return early to take care of him.”
“She’s sick?” Prince Shuo replied. “Then I’ll have the court physician from my residence visit your home. I guarantee the medicine will work wonders.”
At that moment, Xiao Fu was still in the palace. He had just finished his duties when Xie Laosan arrived and shook his head. “Fourth Highness is ill. His mother is gone now. By the time I returned, she was already past saving—far beyond help. There was nothing I could do.”
Xiao Fu asked, “Yun’er is sick? Is it serious?”
Laosan replied, “He caught the illness from his mother. He’s still young and grieving too hard. I’ve prescribed medicine—it’s not too serious.”
“As long as he’s alright.”
By now, the sun had set behind the western hills. The palace walls glowed red. Xiao Fu was hurrying to leave the palace and return to the estate when a eunuch from Qiyang Palace arrived at the imperial study to summon him. “Prince Kang has taken ill. Your Grace, please come see him.”
Xiao Fu frowned and glanced up at the sky—it was already the end of you hour (around 6–7 PM). He called over Yuanqing, now promoted to Commander-in-Chief, and instructed him in a low voice, “Go back to the estate and inform them that Zikui should eat first. Don’t let him wait for me. I’ll return in no more than three quarters of an hour.”
“Yes.” Yuanqing left the palace while Xiao Fu went to check on Yuwen Yun. The child was burning with fever. When he opened his eyes and saw Xiao Fu, he murmured in a daze, “Imperial Father has returned… Did you go plead with my Royal Father? He shouldn’t have…”
Xiao Fu replied, “Your father appeared to me in a dream. He said he couldn’t bear to leave your mother consort behind, so he took her with him—to live a better life in the heavens.”
That one sentence of comfort made the bewildered child’s eyes brim with tears. He began to sob softly, “Third Brother told Yun’er the same thing… Mother Consort didn’t abandon Yun’er. She became a star in the sky… always, always watching over Yun’er…”
“Yes, your mother consort became a star.” Xiao Fu carried him out into the courtyard. A few faint stars had already appeared in the evening sky. He pointed casually, “That one is her.”
The Fourth Prince lay quietly in his arms, gazing at the stars. Xiao Fu, looking down at the small, grief-stricken face, couldn’t help but think of Lin Zikui’s past. His parents had passed away much later—by then Lin Zikui had already grown up, which meant he had felt that sorrow all the more deeply. How heartbreaking it must’ve been for him.
Xiao Fu had once visited their graves. He remembered clearly that Lin Zikui’s father’s death anniversary fell at the end of the fifth month—it was coming up in just a few days.
With that thought, Xiao Fu suddenly turned around and carried the little prince back inside.
Yuwen Yun protested, “Royal Father… the star… Mother Consort…”
“How about letting the nanny accompany you to see the stars?”
“I want Royal Father… want Royal Father…” The young prince was pitiful and endearing, but Xiao Fu’s patience with children only went so far. “Royal Father has urgent matters to handle. Yun’er, be good.”
“Is… is it about national affairs?” Yuwen Yun asked.
Xiao Fu answered, “More important than national affairs.”
Yuwen Yun wasn’t a thoughtless child. His tiny hand slowly released its grip on Xiao Fu’s robe. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he silently watched his Royal Father leave without looking back. A moment later, the nanny entered carrying a bowl of medicine. “Your Highness, it’s time for your medicine.”
Meanwhile, Yuanqing had arrived at the estate before Xiao Fu. He only found Mo Liu there.
“Attendant, where is Young Master Lin?”
Mo Liu, still sulking over not being allowed to go to Prince Shuo’s residence, lay sprawled across the desk with a pout. “Young Master went to the Prince Shuo Residence with Jinzun. Just because I’m an attendant doesn’t mean I don’t have a name, you know.”
Yuanqing asked suspiciously, “They went to Prince Shuo’s? What for?” Prince Shuo and Duke Chang were neighbors, and their two residences had always been close.
Mo Liu, “To deliver a letter for the Prime Minister.”
“How long ago did they leave?” Yuanqing asked.
Mo Liu said, “Just before you hour started. Why isn’t he back yet?”
Without another word, Yuanqing turned to leave. “Attendant, I’m going to fetch them from Prince Shuo Residence. If master returns, tell him.”
“Master?” Mo Liu perked up. “Wait—which Master?”
At the Prince Shuo Residence.
Half the guests at the banquet had already left. Duke Chang was not a heavy drinker—once he was full, he departed. Since the two mansions were adjacent, with even a shared wall, it only took a short carriage ride to get back.
As Duke Chang exited the Prince Shuo Residence, he commented, “That Lin Zikui fellow keeps a low profile. Ask him to compose a poem, and he just claims to be unlearned and refuses to show anything.”
Young Master Yan, “Uncle, you think he’s deliberately hiding his talent?”
“Hiding it is no issue. The boy has a good temperament—modest and well-mannered. But he lacks polish. Doesn’t even know how to flatter. Then again, being overly smooth isn’t necessary either. A clear heart and upright conduct are just as fine.”
Just as Duke Chang stepped out of the Prince Shuo Residence, he saw someone approaching.
“Is that Chen Yuanqing?” The duke lifted the curtain of his carriage to get a better look. Sure enough, it was him. He seemed to be in a hurry and had even pulled out his token to enter the Prince Shuo’s gates directly.
“Commander Chen,” Duke Chang called out.
Yuanqing turned abruptly. “Your Grace?!”
The duke had just come out of the Prince Shuo’s place?
Yuanqing immediately sensed trouble. He respectfully bowed.
Duke Chang waved his hand. “That’s not necessary. That kid Zhao Ling—he returned to Jinling after the mourning rites. Why hasn’t he come home to see his mother yet?”
Yuanqing replied, “There were… urgent matters at the palace that needed handling.”
Duke Chang said, “Tell him to come home for the family banquet tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Duke Chang added, “Hey—what are you doing coming to the Prince Shuo Residence so late?” As far as he knew, Commander Chen had no private dealings with Prince Shuo.
Yuanqing scrambled for an excuse. “I… came to fetch a friend.”
What kind of “friend” would require the commander of the imperial guards to show up personally? Duke Chang knew this wasn’t something he ought to concern himself with, so he lazily waved his hand and ordered the carriage to move on. Young Master Yan, however, was still peeking out from behind the curtain. He more or less knew who Commander Chen had come to retrieve.
Prince Shuo nearly sobered up from the fright.
You could joke around with Duke Chang—but never with Xiao Fu.
Sure enough, the moment Commander Chen arrived, and the steward whispered a few words in his ear, Prince Shuo immediately rose to his feet. “Virtuous nephew, you enjoy your food. I need to step out for a moment.”
He stumbled out in a rush, nearly tripping over himself. “Commander Chen! Commander Chen is here! Please, come in!”
Yuanqing shook his head. “Your Highness, I’ve already eaten. I’m here to pick someone up.”
Prince Shuo blinked in surprise. “Y-You’re here to pick up who?”
“Lin Zikui, Young Master Lin. Is he currently inside, Your Highness? Has he been inconvenienced in any way?”
Prince Shuo: “……”
He was instantly sober. “H-He’s… your friend? No, no! Of course not, I didn’t cause him any trouble!”
“Your Highness jests. It’s good to hear he hasn’t been troubled. I serve under someone, and I’ve been instructed to take Young Master Lin back. I must also ask Your Highness to keep this matter strictly confidential—including from Young Master Lin himself.”
The night breeze blew past, sending a chill through Prince Shuo’s entire body.
The commander of the imperial guards had just said with his own mouth that he served under someone. What did that even mean?
Prime Minister Xue hadn’t taken students in years—he’d only ever mentored two princes in the past, both of whom had been Emperor’s most favored sons.
This Lin Zikui—could he be… a secret illegitimate son that the late Emperor had while down in southern Huainan?!
Jinzun had already heard Yuanqing’s voice and knew he was here. He bent down to support Lin Zikui, who could barely stand. “Young Master, we can go now.”
Lin Zikui had no tolerance for alcohol—three drinks and he’d be done. Two was already pushing it.
A wave of dizziness enveloped him. He couldn’t quite hear what Prince Shuo was saying anymore, just vaguely felt his tone becoming increasingly warm and enthusiastic. The prince kept looking him over, as if trying to confirm something, and even said, “Virtuous nephew, you must come again and visit! Your teacher said in his letter that I should take special care of you. I felt an instant connection with you—like you were my own little brother!”
Leaning against Jinzun, Lin Zikui murmured, “Your Highness flatters me too much… a humble commoner like me doesn’t deserve such praise…”
“You’re handsome, capable, and virtuous! Ah, but why are you so tipsy after just two cups? Right, wasn’t your little wife ill? I’ll call the court physician—right away!”
Far away in Huainan, Prime Minister Xue, who hadn’t even departed yet, was muttering to himself, “The letter should have arrived by now. With that simple-minded and overly imaginative Prince Shuo… when the day comes that I’m no longer around, Huai Fu will still have someone in court to look after him…”
The court physician had just arrived at Prince Shuo’s residence when Yuanqing politely turned him away. “Your Highness, please return. There’s no need for the physician. We already have someone from the Imperial Physician.”
Lin Zikui leaned against the side wall of the carriage. “Is that you, Yuanqing? You’re here too… I haven’t seen you in so long. I’ve missed you. I even asked my wife about you—he said you’ve been busy with assignments here in Jinling.”
Yuanqing was seated at the front of the carriage. He glanced back to see Lin Zikui lifting the curtain, looking at him like some small, curious creature.
His heart jolted. He quickly averted his eyes.
“Yes… it was the master who told me to come get you.”
“Your master… is he coming back tonight?”
Yuanqing hesitated. “He said… he’d be back within three quarters of an hour.”
“Three quarters, then? Alright. I’ll count.” That feeling returned again—the sense that Xiao Fu was always cloaked in mist, elusive and untouchable. Lin Zikui reached out, but his hand could never quite pass through the fog. He couldn’t grasp anything solid.
Halfway through their return, before reaching the estate, Xiao Fu suddenly rode up at full speed. He dismounted before the horse had even come to a full stop, landing softly on the ground.
Yuanqing halted the carriage. Xiao Fu boarded.
The curtain lifted, revealing Jinzun sitting silently with his hands tucked away. Lin Zikui was curled up inside, murmuring as he counted aloud: “Six hundred… six hundred and one… six hundred and two…”
Moonlight poured into the carriage, turning his hair silver.
“I’ve counted to half a quarter hour.” Lin Zikui lifted his eyelids. His dark eyes reflected Xiao Fu’s face. Then, as if a breeze from the east suddenly stirred the air, a dimple bloomed on his cheek: “Xiao Lang has come back.”
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