A Thousand-Mile Exile, An Encounter with an Old Friend - Chapter 27

“Don’t need it?”

Zhu Qinghou casually let go of the jade tally. The charm dropped back against his chest with a soft clink on its chain. “As you wish. It’s not a big deal anyway.”

Since Li Zhen didn’t care, why should he bother recounting the hardships and obstacles of those years? It would only be asking for a snub.

Li Zhen tilted his head slightly, showing only his profile. The thin white silk hung against his long, elegant neck, casting a narrow shadow on his pristine white collar. He looked cold, detached, and almost inhumanly aloof.

Zhu Qinghou was long used to this silent, stone-like attitude. He slid down the armrest of the chair and stood up. Beside him, in a place he couldn’t see, Li Zhen’s fingertips twitched, as if reaching out to catch something that was no longer there.

Zhu Qinghou didn’t dwell on the past. He walked over to a low couch by the window and leaned back lazily. “I know my ‘dear cousin’s’ mind better than anyone. More than guarding against you, he wants” He made a slicing motion across his throat, then remembered the other man couldn’t see and added: “He wants to kill you.”

If Li Zhen were so easy to kill, Li Jue wouldn’t be losing sleep every night, feeling like there was a thorn in his back. However, with Li Jue’s current status as Crown Prince, even if he couldn’t touch Li Zhen directly, he would find ways to suppress and balance him.

Zhu Qinghou’s repeated warnings were meant to ensure Li Zhen was prepared, so he wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

Hearing this, Li Zhen remained expressionless. It was as if even if Li Jue became the Crown Prince, wielding absolute power in Yejing, it meant nothing to him. He was always this calm and indifferent, as if nothing could enter his sight a gentleness laced with a hint of arrogant disdain.

This was exactly what Li Jue hated most about him.

Li Jue felt fear and hatred; Zhu Qinghou, on the other hand, rather liked it. He looked down and tapped his chest. As the weather grew warmer, the “Child” parasite within him had remained quiet. He wondered what Li Zhen had done.

The image of the white porcelain medicine bottle on Li Zhen’s desk flashed through his mind. Zhu Qinghou narrowed his eyes, guessing it was likely the medicine used to suppress the parasite.

The scouts Li Zhen sent to the border had all returned, but there was still no word from Feng Chan. He wondered how the man was faring.

Zhu Qinghou asked whatever came to mind: “Have you had any news of Feng Chan?”

Li Zhen’s hand, which had been tracing the map, paused. He kept his head lowered. After a long silence, he said, “I do not know.”

Do not know?

Zhu Qinghou was suspicious. He rambled on for a bit before asking point-blank: “Is Feng Chan still alive?”

The man was doing him a favor, after all; he couldn’t just not ask.

Li Zhen, who had been responding until now, fell silent for a heartbeat. He wasn’t fooled by this small verbal trick. He lifted his gaze, as if staring at Zhu Qinghou through the white silk.

“You are very eager to know?”

“Naturally,” Zhu Qinghou admitted openly.

The study fell into a hush, leaving only the soft rattle of the window frames in the wind. Zhu Qinghou didn’t sense the brief, awkward tension and continued: “After all, he went to find medicine for your eyes. There’s strength in numbers; it’s only right to show some concern for his well-being.”

Feng Chan had agreed to his request because the Zhu family had helped the Feng family significantly during their glory days. Since Feng Chan was showing gratitude, Zhu Qinghou couldn’t just arrogantly use the man and ignore whether he lived or died.

Li Zhen remained silent, thinking to himself: Zhu Qinghou isn’t even pretending anymore. He was making no effort to hide his acquaintance or his deep bond with Feng Chan.

The hall was so quiet that even the bird-scaring bells beneath the eaves stopped chiming.

Li Zhen said flatly, “I do not need it.”

He had spent years searching for famous doctors and miraculous prescriptions to no avail. How could a mere Feng Chan find anything?

That phrase again.

Zhu Qinghou was starting to find Li Zhen quite annoying. Don’t need it, don’t need it—he doesn’t need anything. If he were so capable on his own, why didn’t he just ascend to heaven? He could take Li Jue and that man named Xiao with him.

He let out a huff but didn’t argue with the blind man. Instead, he began a new calculation. Since Xiao Shengjue had come to Yongzhou, he certainly couldn’t be allowed to leave in one piece. Ideally, he should be led into making a massive mistake and falling flat on his face.

“Ouch!”

Xiao Shengjue tripped on flat ground, nearly landing on all fours. He scrambled up, pretending nothing had happened and maintaining his elegant poise.

He swept a sharp gaze over the servants nearby, making them all lower their heads. Only then did he ask, “The person I asked you to find—have you found them?”

“Reporting to the Young Master… this subordinate only found that after the Zhu family criminals entered Yongzhou, they were sent to the local government for labor. As for their subsequent whereabouts…” The man trembled. “This subordinate could not find a trace.”

This implied that the person who bought Zhu Liujun was of no ordinary background and had wiped away all evidence. A shadow of gloom crossed Xiao Shengjue’s handsome face. No matter; as long as that person wasn’t associated with the Prince of Su’s manor, he was confident he could reclaim her. She was just a girl; he didn’t believe he couldn’t get her back.

Besides, Zhu Liujun was likely suffering under that person’s hand. He had to save her quickly.

Zhu Liujun was propping her chin on her hand, bored out of her mind watching her brother draw turtles. One stroke, two strokes a messy, crude turtle slowly appeared on the paper.

Zhu Qinghou had been drawing turtles for several days and felt he was getting better at it; his brush control was much steadier. He happily tossed the brush aside and held up the paper full of turtles for her to see.

Zhu Liujun looked at them as if facing a formidable enemy. She chose her words carefully for a long time before saying, “Xiao Yu… the turtles… are very round.”

Zhu Qinghou glanced at her. Such dry praise was quite boring. He tossed the paper aside and said nonchalantly, “Xiao Shengjue is here.”

Hearing the name, Zhu Liujun didn’t react immediately. It took several heartbeats before she finally conjured the man’s image in her mind.

“Why is he here?”

Zhu Qinghou explained briefly, watching her expression. He was worried the girl might still be infatuated and would forget all the grievances she had suffered the moment she saw him.

Zhu Liujun fell into a rare silence. “Xiao Yu, he arrived at just the right time.” She lifted her head, her eyes bright. “Those ‘scholarly’ families rely on their reputations to slander our family. We can use that very thing to deal with them.”

Reputation was the foundation of the scholarly elite; likewise, they were bound by it. The Censorate officials used the name of “rectifying discipline” to impeach others all day long. Conversely, if they stepped out of line, their “clean name” would vanish, and their careers would be ruined.

“Brother,” Zhu Liujun said, “I have a way to provoke him into making a mistake.” She reached up to touch her face, a hint of ruthless determination flashing in her soft, round eyes.

Zhu Qinghou looked at her and knew exactly what she was planning. He waved his hand. “I have my own plan. Just watch.”

He wouldn’t let that man Xiao anywhere near his sister. A fellow like that, he could handle himself.

By the end of April, at the Prince of Su’s study.

As the trade market beyond the border began to take shape, the discussions between the two factions shifted from construction to the allocation of ownership. On the surface, the market belonged to the court, but the actual distribution of profits depended on who controlled the pass.

The two sides argued heatedly. When they reached the topic of a certain strategic pass, the usually quiet Prince of Su acted uncharacteristically firm. He seemed determined to keep that pass under his absolute control.

Xiao Shengjue couldn’t understand why the normally indifferent Prince cared so much about that pass. It made him uneasy. That pass hadn’t been part of his plan, and he didn’t have enough silver on hand for its renovation. Furthermore, the renovation was urgent; if he delayed, the Prince would seize the upper hand. He couldn’t wait for Yejing to send more money.

To fight for it, or not to fight? He was paralyzed by indecision.

Zhu Qinghou sat behind the map, wanting to see Xiao Shengjue’s expression. Xiao was cautious; and it was precisely because of his caution that he wouldn’t dare gamble on what might happen if he let Li Zhen have the pass. Therefore, he would definitely fight for it.

“Since the official has no objections, this Prince shall—”

Li Zhen’s voice was calm, but halfway through his sentence, Xiao Shengjue suddenly stood up. He stood in the center of the room and said respectfully, “In this official’s opinion, that pass should also be managed by the court. Your Highness need not trouble yourself with its affairs.”

They had already planned that once the market was complete, the court would send an overseer. The Eastern Palace would then find a way to control that official. That way, the construction, operation, and everything in between would be under their control. Even if the Prince wanted to use the trade market to stage a comeback, he would have to ask them for permission first.

Initially, they wanted to wait for the Prince to do the work before “picking the peach” (reaping the rewards). Who could have guessed the Prince’s manor was this broke?

After Xiao Shengjue finished, the Prince tapped the desk lightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. The atmosphere in the study grew heavy, like a string being pulled tighter and tighter, on the verge of snapping.

“Renovating the pass requires silver. This Prince intends to send the funds today,” the Prince said flatly. His calm, matter-of-fact tone made Xiao Shengjue break into a cold sweat.

The Prince cared so much about the pass that he had even prepared the silver in advance. Then, several Yongzhou officials began to chime in, their arguments chipping away at Xiao Shengjue’s logic. Without time to think, he blurted out: “Rest assured, Your Highness. This official shall have the silver delivered today.”

Behind the map, Zhu Qinghou’s eyes crinkled.

It wasn’t a sophisticated tactic; it was simply playing on the Crown Prince faction’s desperate desire to prevent Li Zhen from rising. They feared him so much that they would crush even the slightest spark of a comeback.

Even at this stage, Xiao Shengjue was still safe. As long as he didn’t seek his own destruction, no one could touch him.

However…

Zhu Qinghou gently flicked the bell in his hair, his eyes full of mischief. The stage was set; now it was just a matter of how Xiao Shengjue would react.

That night.

Xiao Shengjue stood in his room, anxious. Looking at the banknotes before him, he made his decision and whispered an order: “Deliver these quickly. Do not let anyone find out.”

These notes were “contributions” from those wanting to align themselves with the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince was the future ruler; plenty of people were eager to flatter him. With just a hint of news, countless people would rush to send silver. These notes from the Eastern Palace would be treated as a loan to be repaid later.

He called out twice. Finally, there was a sound from outside.

Squeak—

The doors opened.

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