Chapter 64: Jinling City (33)
Lin Zikui still didn’t know how to face him. He had never imagined that Xiao Zhaoling would actually use a child to coerce him.
Yun’er snuggled into Lin Zikui’s arms, whining playfully, “Master, let him play with us, please? Brother said, he listens to no one—but he listens to you.”
Lin Zikui shifted his gaze and looked at Yuwen Yun. “Did your brother tell you to say that? Tell me, Yun’er, what else did he teach you?”
The boy was still young. Xiao Fu had told him to lie and keep his identity a secret, and he already felt guilty about it. So when Lin Zikui asked, Yun’er immediately started to stammer. “Brother said in the carriage… if I can make you happy, then I’d get to… play with you more often.”
Lin Zikui said, “It’s so late for you to be out of the palace. Won’t your nanny be worried?”
Yuwen Yun shook his head. “I told her I was with Royal Father, so she won’t…” Mid-sentence, he suddenly realized he’d said too much. He instantly slapped a tiny hand over his mouth and peeked nervously at his royal father.
But Royal Father didn’t say a word. He only stepped a bit closer, without any sign of anger or scolding. He simply stood there—straight-backed and motionless—as if too cautious to sit down. Towering before them, the Royal Father was like a mountain, while Lin Zikui, seated, felt like water within reach.
Yuwen Yun looked at Lin Zikui. “Master… you knew?”
Lin Zikui nodded, his expression calm and gentle when facing the child. “Yes. Master knows your name is Yuwen Yun. It’s not Yun Yun. Your brother—” He paused, then continued, “—he taught you to lie for your own safety. But lying itself is still wrong, isn’t it?”
Yuwen Yun nodded too, unable to stop himself from chewing his fingers. “Yes… Yun’er didn’t want to lie either. But Master guessed it anyway—Master’s so smart!”
Lin Zikui gave a small, subtle smile. He still didn’t look at Xiao Fu. His gaze remained on the child as he stroked his soft, fine hair and said, “But Master has only met you three times. So it’s understandable that you hid your identity and lied to Master. You’re a royalty. It’s dangerous to reveal your identity to strangers. Your… royal father wasn’t wrong to teach you that.”
Standing off to the side, Xiao Fu: “…”
How could he not hear it? There was a hidden message in those words—clearly meant for him.
It’s not like he’s afraid of me, Xiao Fu thought to himself. My reputation isn’t that terrible. I’m certainly better than Yuwen Duo, right? So why does he look at me like I’m some wild beast?
Xiao Fu couldn’t help but speak up. “Well… I think it’s fair that I kept it from you too.”
Lin Zikui said nothing. He simply picked up the child. After a few months apart, the boy had grown taller and heavier. Lin Zikui hadn’t eaten—he’d barely touched food in the morning, afraid that the long exam would make him need the restroom mid-session. He’d basically gone the whole day without eating, so lifting the boy took some effort.
“Let’s go to the courtyard and fly your kite.”
Yuwen Yun wrapped his arms around Lin Zikui’s neck. “Yay! Let’s fly the kite! Royal Father, come too!”
Xiao Fu was quick to snatch the kite up from the ground. “I’ll carry the boy—Zikui, you take the kite.”
“No need. He’s only four—I can still manage.”
—He hadn’t looked at him, but he had responded to Xiao Fu’s words. That was enough to ease Xiao Fu’s nerves. He quietly dismissed all the servants in the courtyard, then took the kite string, let the wind catch it, and slowly released the swallow-shaped kite into the sky before handing the line over to Yuwen Yun.
Yuwen Yun looked up, both hands tugging the string, and Lin Zikui guided him, “Let it out little by little. Whichever way the wind goes, we follow it.”
The swallow kite danced in the sky like scissors snipping across the clouds. Lin Zikui asked, “Did Yun’er make the kite yourself?”
Yuwen Yun’s eyes remained fixed on the kite above. He replied softly, “I made it with Mother Consort. We didn’t get a chance to fly it before… before Imperial Father passed away. Kites weren’t allowed in the palace after that. Mother said we could fly it come spring… but later, she got sick.”
Lin Zikui looked at him, letting out a quiet sigh in his heart. Before the kite ever flew, this child had already lost his mother.
His arms were starting to ache, but he kept holding the boy. In this moment, all his attention was focused on Yuwen Yun. He didn’t have the energy to care about Xiao Zhaoling, and for now, he managed to forget him entirely—even though Xiao Fu kept edging closer and trying to insert himself, asking, “Yun’er, ask Master if we can make an autumn kite together tonight.”
Yuwen Yun was such an obedient child. Whatever Xiao Fu told him to say, he would repeat word for word.
Lin Zikui replied, “Tonight, I need to read.”
Yuwen Yun repeated dutifully, “Royal Father, Master needs to read.”
Xiao Fu asked again, “Then ask what he’s reading?”
Yuwen Yun asked, “Master, what are you reading?”
“Classics and teachings of the sages.” Lin Zikui was getting a little tired. He shifted Yuwen Yun in his arms, bouncing him up slightly and switching arms.
Xiao Fu reached out. “Yun’er, let Royal Father hold you for a bit.” Without waiting for permission, he took the boy from Lin Zikui’s arms. “Let me do it—you rest.” Lin Zikui looked up at him briefly.
Xiao Fu carried the boy with ease, holding him in one arm while letting him continue flying the kite. He even had the leisure to turn and smile at Lin Zikui. “Lately I’ve been fond of reading those same sage teachings. There’s much I don’t understand. Would Lin Lang be willing to explain them to me?”
Lin Zikui lowered his head. “The Regent is surrounded by Grand Scholars. I’m of no importance.”
Xiao Fu’s brows furrowed slightly, unintentionally. “We’ve bowed before the ancestors together. We made vows of life and death together. And now you say you’re of no importance?”
Before Lin Zikui could reply, Xiao Fu continued, “Yes, I hid the truth from you—that was wrong. But it was also understandable. If you had known from the start who I was, how would we have met, come to know each other, and fall in love? How would we have shared those sweet, intimate moments…”
Lin Zikui, mindful of Yun’er’s presence, looked up and cut him off. “The child’s here. Don’t say any more.”
“He’s only a few years old—what could he possibly understand? Even if he hears, so what?”
Yuwen Yun held the kite string in one hand and covered his ear with the other. “Yun’er can’t hear anything!”
Xiao Fu stared at him intently and said, “Besides, you still have the palace exam to take. How can you face it with a calm mind?”
Xiao Fu had many reasons—Lin Zikui knew them all. He had reasons; he had no other choice. But this sudden shift in identity had caught him completely off guard. Now… how was he supposed to face Xiao Fu? With what attitude? As a scholar in service to the throne? With the decorum of ruler and subject? Or as a husband and wife?
How could he face the identity of the “Huiyuan”? Lin Zikui could already guess the result of the palace exam.
That night, Xiao Fu had said he would win the “triple crown.” His mind was a mess now. It wasn’t because he was particularly capable—he had begged the Prime Minister to be his mentor, leaned on Xiao Zhaoling’s connections to secure the top spot in the metropolitan exam. Even surviving the deadly palace exam had all been because of the Regent.
Lin Zikui had read countless books. When Brother Huang was wronged and killed, he had felt useless—not from lack of talent, but because he wasn’t born into a powerful family, wasn’t a noble. He couldn’t save Huang. But when he was blind, he never once thought of himself as useless. He only resented the bureaucracy and corruption, determined that one day he would bring down the aristocratic clans and give all scholars a fair playing field.
Now, he suddenly realized: he too had become dependent on the very system of privilege he once despised. Without even realizing it, he had taken the shortcut that noble sons traveled.
That morning had been the palace exam. By noon, he learned Xiao Fu’s identity. Now the sun was setting.
Yuwen Yun’s kite had gotten tangled in a tree. Xiao Fu climbed up and retrieved it.
Day turned to dusk, and the sky dimmed. Xiao Fu rolled up the kite. “Master must be hungry. Yun’er, let’s stop playing and go call him to eat.”
Lin Zikui remained silent during dinner. Xiao Fu noticed and kept serving him food, over and over. Xiao Fu didn’t enjoy eating much himself—he preferred watching Lin Zikui eat. He knew what Lin Zikui liked: he usually ate two bowls, loved soup before and after meals—especially beef bone soup—didn’t care for fatty meats, preferred tender sprouts in his vegetables, but wasn’t picky. He always ate the things he liked first, then finished everything else. Xiao Fu remembered it all.
Lin Zikui likely hadn’t noticed, but not a single dish on the table tonight was one he disliked.
But he had no appetite today. Yun’er ended up eating the most. Yun’er was a thoughtful child and insisted on accompanying Lin Zikui to study. Xiao Fu wouldn’t allow it. “Master has to enter the palace tomorrow to receive an imperial decree. He needs to rest early tonight.”
Yuwen Yun clapped his hands joyfully. “Master’s going into the palace? That’s wonderful! Then I’ll get to see Master every day!”
Still worried, Xiao Fu had Yun’er sleep in the next room. With the child around, if Lin Zikui got angry, he likely wouldn’t start a fight in front of him.
Fighting wasn’t in Lin Zikui’s nature anyway. But perhaps… a good fight would have cleared the air.
Still, Xiao Fu just wanted the whole matter to settle quietly. In his eyes, Lin Lang was soft-hearted—he only needed some coaxing.
Lin Zikui washed up, changed clothes, and went to bed. There was no way to stop Xiao Fu from coming in. If he locked the door, Xiao Fu would climb in through the window. After all, the estate, the room, the bed—everything he used belonged to Xiao Zhaoling.
How could he sleep? His thoughts were a tangled mess, and he couldn’t make sense of anything.
Xiao Fu came in through the window carrying a lantern and lit the peony-patterned lanterns around the room. “Has Lin Lang fallen asleep? Look—it’s the peony lantern you gave me.”
Lin Zikui shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Peony lantern—he remembered that night clearly. He and Zhaoling had strolled through the Qinhuai River during the lantern festival. Zhaoling had openly mocked Minister Pang’s son, calling him a pig-headed fool.
He remembered how sweet the sugar cakes were that night. Zhaoling had kissed him through the soft veil of the headscarf.
It was all so vivid. He could still recall the exact feeling of his heart skipping a beat.
“Lin Lang’s asleep, huh…” Xiao Fu could hear his uneven breathing—obviously faking. He lowered his voice. “Then I won’t bother you.” He put down the lantern, and the rustling of clothes followed. He took off his outer robe, leaving only his inner garments. Seeing that Lin Zikui was sleeping right on the edge of the bed, clearly not planning to let him share it, Xiao Fu simply stepped in and lay down on the empty inner side of the bed.
But Lin Zikui’s little scheme didn’t stop there. He had wrapped himself tightly in the quilt—so tightly that he looked like a radish buried in the earth. You’d have to yank hard to get him out.
Xiao Fu muttered to himself, “No blanket? Why is it so cold tonight? Oh—right. It’s White Dew season.”
“Ah, so cold.”
Lin Zikui’s eyelids twitched.
Xiao Fu: “Ah-choo!”
Lin Zikui wanted to tell him: White Dew fell on the sixth day of the eighth lunar month—today wasn’t White Dew. He knew Xiao Fu was shivering, but wasn’t sure if it was real. Probably fake. Still, he couldn’t be sure.
If he was really cold, why not call for someone to bring an extra quilt? Wasn’t there one on the soft divan? And if he really was cold, why wear such thin clothes? He was a seasoned warrior—someone who had survived countless battles. How could he be cold in just early autumn?
Lin Zikui couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing him “delicately” muttering over and over about how cold it was, he finally spoke up: “There’s a clean quilt on the soft divan.”
Xiao Fu saw that he had finally broken character, and the corners of his lips curved into a smile. “I want to sleep with my little husband. You once said that when it’s cold, two people should warm each other. I’m already this cold—let me check if your hands and feet are cold too.”
With full confidence and no shame, he reached over and started unraveling Lin Zikui’s tightly wrapped “radish blanket,” unwinding it layer by layer. Lin Zikui tumbled straight into his arms. He suddenly opened his eyes wide and found himself staring into Xiao Fu’s eyes, glowing bright under the moonlight.
Xiao Fu caught his curled-up fingers and pressed them against his own chest. “Let me see… ah, so cold.”
—He really was cold.
But the weather wasn’t cold yet.
Xiao Fu was a little surprised. Lin Zikui’s body felt unusually chilled. In contrast, he himself was still warm. Lin Zikui could tell the moment Xiao Fu touched him—he was lying again. And yet, why did he always fall for it? Every single time.
“Is my little husband still angry?” Xiao Fu wrapped his legs around Lin Zikui’s, rubbing his feet against his. It turned out even the tops of his feet and his toes were freezing cold—bone-chillingly cold. And it was only August! They already needed a warming brazier? Xie Laosan had never said anything about Lin Zikui having a cold-related condition. Nothing unusual had ever shown before. But today, everything was off.
Xiao Fu knew exactly where that strangeness had come from.
He had already figured it out just by listening to how uneven and erratic Lin Zikui’s breathing was.
Lin Zikui had no way to push him off. He could only stare at him and ask, “If I am angry… will you punish me?”
“I’m no longer the regent prince. What’s there to punish you for?”
Hearing that, Lin Zikui abruptly sat up straight. “What did you just say?!”
“You wanted Xiao Zhaoling, not the Prince Regent, right?”
Xiao Fu sat up too. His black hair fell loosely over his shoulders, his collar gaping open to reveal his pale collarbones and firm chest. He said, “Before I left the palace, I wrote to the Empress Dowager, asking her to take over state affairs in my place. Now that you’ve passed the palace exam, and I’ve cleared out the corrupt officials who rigged the examination system, the task is done. With your success and fame secured, I can finally step down. You know being Regent is no good—I always had to attend court. How could I take care of my little husband? It made him think I didn’t want to come home anymore, even think I’d fallen out of love. Sigh.” Xiao Fu wiped at his tears.
Lin Zikui was absolutely furious. He shoved him hard. “You—you’re out of your mind! Xiao Zhaoling, go back to the palace right now and retrieve that letter of yours!”
A single thread tugged could unravel everything. Without the authority and deterrence of the Prince Regent, the fragile peace across the realm would collapse in an instant.
Lin Zikui understood all too well. Internal unrest and external threats could plunge the nation into chaos in the blink of an eye, leaving the people homeless and wandering.
Xiao Fu’s clothes had gotten even more disheveled from the push, and he made no effort to fix them. Leaning on his elbow, he gently nudged Lin Zikui and said, “Then… are you still mad? You’re not going to divorce me, right? You still want me, don’t you? If you say you want me, I’ll go back—just for a little while.”
Ciacia/N: i guess i am immature afterall, cause else how to explain this belly full of fire!!!
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