A Thousand-Mile Exile, An Encounter with an Old Friend - Chapter 18

“Xiao Yu…”

Zhu Liujun flew into the study like a little bird. Halfway through her greeting, her voice suddenly dropped. She looked at Li Zhen standing beside Zhu Qinghou, her expression flickering with hesitation and deep-seated worry.

She timidly bowed to Li Zhen. “Prince of Su.”

Zhu Liujun was uneasy. Seeing Xiao Yu by the Prince’s side, she feared the Prince intended to keep him close simply to devise better ways to torment him.

Zhu Qinghou straightened his back, letting go of Li Zhen’s sleeve. He beckoned to Zhu Liujun and asked casually, “How have you been lately? If you lack anything, just tell the Prince of Su.”

His tone was easy and composed, as if the Prince’s manor were his own home and the Prince himself were a servant he could order around at will.

Zhu Liujun: “…”

Xiao Yu, isn’t this a bit too arrogant?

She stole a glance at the Prince, terrified he would lose his temper and have them both hung up and tortured.

However, Li Zhen merely said in a flat voice, “Speak. What do you need?”

There was no emotion in his voice it was cold and calm—but there was no hint of malice either.

Zhu Liujun let out half a sigh of relief. In the past, she would have taken an inch and asked for a mile, but now she only whispered one thing: “Thank you, Prince. I only wish to see Xiao Yu more often.”

After speaking, she felt anxious again. The Prince hated Xiao Yu so much; surely he wouldn’t grant such a request.

Zhu Qinghou began twirling the white silk band around Li Zhen’s eyes, speaking up before the Prince could. “If you want to see me, just come,” he said with a hint of a smile. “His Highness hasn’t forbidden your visits.”

When he had staged his “escape” previously, he hadn’t taken Zhu Liujun—partly because it wasn’t a real escape, and partly because he didn’t want her to face the consequences of his actions. This was a play, and one actor was enough.

Li Zhen gently tightened the white silk, giving it a slight tug to pull it out of Zhu Qinghou’s grasp. “As you wish.”

Did that mean she could visit Xiao Yu whenever she wanted?

Zhu Liujun signaled frantically to Zhu Qinghou with her eyes, trying to confirm if the Prince had really agreed that easily.

Zhu Qinghou arched an eyebrow and laughed. “Well? Aren’t you going to thank His Highness?”

Zhu Qinghou usually called him by his courtesy name, but today he had addressed him as “Prince of Su” several times, his voice rising slightly at the end with a unique sense of playfulness.

When others called him “Prince,” it was filled with dread. He was the only exception.

Li Zhen lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. Outside the hall, the spring breeze stirred the curtains, casting gentle, flickering shadows. For a moment, a sense of tranquility settled over the room.

Zhu Liujun chirped, “Thank you, Prince of Su!”

As expected of Xiao Yu, she thought. He even managed to win over the Prince.

Knowing there would be plenty of chances to meet later, Zhu Qinghou didn’t keep her long. After a few brief words of advice, he sent her on her way.

The moment she stepped out of the study, Zhu Liujun let out a massive sigh of relief and skipped away. The way the Prince sat there so silently was truly terrifying! Thank goodness Xiao Yu was there.

Zhu Qinghou watched her yellow-and-green figure disappear through the window. He withdrew his gaze and lazily picked up a bundle of bamboo slips to flip through them.

But Li Zhen’s low voice sounded beside him: “You cannot touch that.”

Before, he wasn’t allowed to look; now, he wasn’t even allowed to touch.

He let me into the inner sanctum of the study, yet he draws the line at a few scrolls?

Zhu Qinghou snapped the scrolls shut with a loud thwack, intentionally letting Li Zhen hear his frustration. “If you won’t let me read, I’ll just have to find something else to do.”

Faced with this provocation, Li Zhen remained as steady as a mountain, continuing to handle his affairs.

Bored to tears, Zhu Qinghou reached out and grabbed a lock of Li Zhen’s ink-black hair. He began to slowly weave it into a small braid. In the blink of an eye, he had finished three or four.

These messy little braids hanging by Li Zhen’s temples looked absurdly out of place, but Zhu Qinghou didn’t care. He looked around, felt something was missing, and took some small ornaments from his own hair to fasten onto the braids.

They jingled and chimed with every slight movement.

Li Zhen, who was being “decorated”: “…”

Li Zhen still didn’t move. He continued to feel the texture of the scrolls in his hands, treating Zhu Qinghou as if he were invisible.

How dare he ignore me.

Zhu Qinghou sneered inwardly. His mischievous streak took over, and he began braiding with renewed vigor, hoping to make Li Zhen go out and embarrass himself with a head full of messy plaits.

He had never styled anyone’s hair before, except for the rough braids he did for Zhu Liujun during their exile. His technique was clumsy; the braids were crooked, tangled, and unsightly.

As he worked, Zhu Qinghou muttered, “I already know ten characters. I don’t need you to teach me anymore.” He had always been direct with Li Zhen. After two sentences, he finally showed his hand: “I want something else.”

For example, the freedom to browse the scrolls in this study. Or—

To be the master of Yongzhou.

If he couldn’t even control a small place like Yongzhou, how could he ever hope to clear the Zhu family’s name?

Li Zhen finally stopped. Behind the thin white silk, he “looked” at Zhu Qinghou. “You want to see them that badly?”

“Naturally,” Zhu Qinghou admitted righteously. “Let me see. I’m not going to hurt you.” At the word “hurt,” his voice faltered for a split second before he quickly changed the subject. “Xianpu, are you truly content staying in Yongzhou forever? Don’t you want to return to Yejing and take back what is rightfully yours?”

Zhu Qinghou spoke persuasively, trying to appeal to Li Zhen’s reason and emotion alike.

The curtains swayed, and the light hit the screen. The hall fell silent.

Li Zhen suddenly gave a soft laugh a sound that startled Zhu Qinghou. “And how,” Li Zhen whispered, “would I take it back?”

Is he actually interested?

Zhu Qinghou let go of Li Zhen’s hair and tapped the desk excitedly. “By turning Yejing upside down and making those people lose sleep every night,” he whispered enticingly. “Yejing, the Jin Dynasty—it should all be yours.”

Yours, and mine.

But mostly mine, Zhu Qinghou thought.

Li Zhen sat perfectly upright, like a slender, hardy pine. Even though they were both in armchairs, he sat nearly half a head taller than Zhu Qinghou. He maintained his dignified, elegant posture, unmoving.

“Mine?” the young blind Prince repeated softly.

Zhu Qinghou’s heart skipped a beat. A strange sense of unease washed over him, though he couldn’t pinpoint its source. He only wanted to convince Li Zhen quickly.

“It is yours,” Zhu Qinghou said firmly. “I will help you.”

Six simple words spoken by a powerless prisoner should have carried no weight.

But these words came from Zhu Qinghou.

He had a habit of making his words a reality.

Years ago.

The Zhu clan held immense power. The entire family supported the eldest prince, Li Jue, and spared no effort in suppressing the other princes.

Now, the last survivor of that clan sat before him and said, I will help you.

Was it not a joke?

Li Zhen’s lips curved slightly a ghost of a smile. “And if you lie to me again…” He trailed off.

The study became impossibly quiet. Even the wind seemed to stop. The curtains hung still, blocking out the light and leaving the room in a heavy, suffocating atmosphere.

“If I lie to you again,” Zhu Qinghou’s voice was lazy, as if he didn’t care about his fate—there was even a hint of anticipation in his tone”then you can do whatever you want with me.”

…What did that even mean?

He could do whatever he wanted right now.

A sudden gust of wind blew, causing a jing-aling sound. The gold and silver bells on Li Zhen’s braids chimed softly.

Li Zhen pressed his hand against the bells to silence them. Just as Zhu Qinghou thought he was about to agree.

Li Zhen said coldly, “The people sent to Yejing for the imperial audience have returned.”

Boom.

It felt as though Zhu Qinghou had been struck in the head. His heart began to race like a drum.

For a long time, he had avoided one specific question.

Did Li Zhen keep him alive out of old affection, or because he hadn’t yet confirmed the location of the hidden silver?

Now that he was forced to face it, Zhu Qinghou appeared remarkably calm. The guiltier he felt, the more composed he became. “Oh?” He chuckled softly. “Did they bring back any local specialties from Yejing?”

The most authentic “specialties” of Yejing were gold, white jade, and the intoxicating air of power and prestige.

Li Zhen’s fingers, which were holding the ends of his hair, paused. A bell let out a tiny clink.

Zhu Qinghou watched him, waiting for Li Zhen to mention the silver at the Department of State Affairs. He expected a confrontation, or perhaps the use of the Gu-worm to punish him.

It didn’t matter. He had nothing to fear.

Li Zhen simply said, “I had them bring you some Lion-King Chongyang cakes from the Immortal Terrace.”

The wind died down. The window was still. The room was silent.

The sound of a bead hitting the floor echoed.

One of the ornaments on Zhu Qinghou’s purple robe had fallen. He had unfastened several to put in Li Zhen’s hair, leaving the rest loose.

He didn’t reach for the fallen bead. His eyes remained fixed on Li Zhen. “…Where is it?” His tone regained its usual cheer. “Why didn’t you bring it to me earlier?”

From Yejing to Yongzhou, the distance was nearly three thousand miles. Even with the fastest horses traveling through the night, the food would have spoiled long ago.

“You have to wait,” Li Zhen said, tilting his head slightly as he called out an order. “Have someone prepare the Lion-King Chongyang cakes.”

Prepare?

Zhu Qinghou caught the word. Freshly made? Had Li Zhen brought a chef from the Immortal Terrace here?

The Immortal Terrace was the premier restaurant in Yejing, world-famous for its delicacies, beautiful women, and fine wine. What kind of method had Li Zhen used to persuade their chef to come to this wasteland?

Zhu Qinghou was curious, but only slightly.

Fifteen minutes later, the cakes were served, steaming hot. The “Lion Kings” on top were vividly molded, their beast-like eyes looking as if they might actually spin.

They looked just as hilariously familiar as he remembered.

Zhu Qinghou had been frightened by a lion when he was a child. The first time he saw these cakes, he had nearly jumped out of his skin. In his frustration, he had bitten the “lion’s” head off. Others thought he loved them and kept serving him more. Eventually, he realized the dough lions weren’t scary at all in fact, they were quite delicious.

It had been a long time since he’d tasted them. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he picked one up and began to nibble on it.

The aroma of the dough and the rising steam filled the hall, creating a hazy, relaxing atmosphere.

Li Zhen sat quietly, listening to the sound of Zhu Qinghou eating. Beneath the white silk, his dark, sightless eyes seemed to be staring directly at him.

“Xiao Yu,”

“The silver at the Department of State Affairs in Yejing. were you telling the truth?”

Zhu Qinghou froze mid-bite.

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