A Thousand-Mile Exile, An Encounter with an Old Friend - Chapter 32

“Useless?” Zhu Qinghou, refusing to accept this, opened the medicine bottle again and peered inside. “How do you know it’s useless if you don’t even check it?”

After Li Zhen lost his sight years ago, every imperial physician in the palace had examined him. One by one, they had shaken their heads, admitting they were utterly powerless.

How could a mere vision-clearing pill from the frontier possibly work?

The corners of Li Zhen’s lips curled into a very shallow arc, tinged with a faint, mocking bitterness. He reminded him calmly, “I was poisoned.”

Without an antidote, no amount of restorative pills or tonics would make a difference.

Zhu Qinghou froze, looking as if he had been turned to ice. It took two heartbeats before he spoke up sheepishly: “The antidote… Li Jue should have it.”

In truth, he wasn’t certain if Li Jue actually possessed a cure. Even if he did, it wouldn’t be easy to obtain.

The hall fell into a dead silence. A single raindrop fell from the eaves, splashing against the long stone steps. The rain began to fall like a curtain, obscuring the daylight.

Li Zhen gathered his robes and sat upright, creating distance between himself and Zhu Qinghou a gap of less than three fingers wide.

Zhu Qinghou naturally noticed. He stared at the gap for a moment before leaning sideways and proactively closing the distance.

“Move away,” Li Zhen rebuked in a low voice. He was never one for foul language; even his scolding sounded refined and elegant.

He was resisting Zhu Qinghou’s touch.

Had it been anyone else, they would have retreated cautiously, absenting themselves from the Prince’s sight. But Zhu Qinghou was born with a death-defying temperament. He shamelessly leaned in anyway, resting his head against Li Zhen’s chest to listen to the steady, powerful beat of his heart.

He asked in a small voice, “Are you still angry with me?”

Perhaps knowing he was in the wrong, Zhu Qinghou’s voice was much softer—hazy and melodic, like a tiny hook catching at one’s ear.

He waited a few moments, and when he received no reaction, he prepared to look up. Suddenly, he felt a chill at the side of his neck; long, icy fingertips were tracing the thrumming pulse at his throat.

The owner of the hand that held his life in its grip leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Zhu Qinghou, I really want to…”

Want to what?

Kill him?

Before making threats, Li Zhen should check if he actually had the heart to go through with them. Zhu Qinghou mocked him silently in his mind.

The next moment.

A sharp pang shot through his chest—he couldn’t tell if it was pain or a strange itch. It felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck him from nowhere, sending ripples through his body. Zhu Qinghou’s limbs went weak, and he slumped into Li Zhen’s arms, gasping, “Xianpu… it hurts…”

He had a sensitive constitution and had been pampered since childhood. A single point of pain felt like three on his body, and by the time it left his lips, it sounded like ten. He sounded aggrieved, as if Li Zhen were being unreasonable and bullying him.

Li Zhen caught Zhu Qinghou’s thin shoulders, helping him up and holding him steady. He placed a palm against the young man’s face, tracing the well-defined features of his handsome face. It was part touch, part wordless control.

Zhu Qinghou shivered at the touch of those five icy fingers. Recalling why the other man had suddenly lashed out, he instinctively tried to explain: “That medicine…” He barely got two words out before abruptly changing his tune. “The antidote is in the Eastern Palace’s hands regardless. We’ll find a way—steal it, or take it by force.”

Li Zhen had already let go. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his hands, his movements as cold as his voice. “I have already investigated.”

Li Jue feared him so much; why would he ever leave an antidote behind?

Nothing worked. Every path was a dead end.

Zhu Qinghou was never one to dwell on misery. He toyed with the medicine bottle. “Just try it. Maybe you’ll get lucky and it’ll work?”

Standing guard outside, Baopu let out a silent, cold sneer. All medicine had its own side effects. Putting aside its uselessness, the drug hadn’t even been tested. How could His Highness possibly consume it?

Li Zhen lowered his head and took the bottle from Zhu Qinghou.

Zhu Qinghou was surprised, and just as he was about to remind him to test it first, Li Zhen snapped the lid shut. He said tonelessly, “Jiansu, return this medicine.”

Jiansu pushed open the door, respectfully took the bottle, and turned to leave.

Zhu Qinghou’s eyes widened as he tried to argue: “What if it works? How can you send it back without even checking?”

Li Zhen opened a scroll, his fingers moving over the characters as he identified them. He said flatly, “I don’t need it.”

He didn’t need Feng Chan’s gift, and he didn’t need Zhu Qinghou’s kindness.

Zhu Qinghou ground his teeth. For the first time in his life, he felt a sudden impulse—he wanted to bite Li Zhen. Bite him until he couldn’t be so stubborn anymore.

Someone had gone through the trouble of bringing the medicine; he should at least try it. Instead, Li Zhen sent it back exactly as it came. What was the point of that?

“Fine,” Zhu Qinghou said, his heart souring his tongue. “Then don’t ever hope to see me for the rest of your life.”

Li Zhen’s breathing hitched slightly, though his chest remained steady. He never showed his emotions on his face; the angrier he was, the calmer he appeared.

“Xiao Yu,” he whispered, using Zhu Qinghou’s nickname to silence him. His voice was warm yet low and dangerous. “The faction you cultivated on the outside… I can pull it up by the roots.”

Those people were low-ranking and insignificant, as fragile as weeds in the sea of officialdom. With Zhu Qinghou at their head, they had barely managed to form a thin web of influence.

Li Zhen had plenty of patience. He could find them one by one and eradicate them.

Zhu Qinghou immediately fell silent, following his survival instincts.

He stared at Li Zhen’s eyes, hidden behind the white silk. A cocktail of emotions swirled in his heart. He reached up and took hold of the ribbon at Li Zhen’s temple.

Li Zhen waited for him to speak.

But Zhu Qinghou said nothing. He simply wound the end of the ribbon around his finger and leaned gently into the Prince’s embrace.

Li Zhen remained still for a moment, then wrapped his arms around him, pulling the fox-fur cloak tighter around the young man.

“Back then… the person behind the poison was Li Jue, wasn’t it?”

Zhu Qinghou was startled. Li Zhen had known all along? Since when?

He pursed his lips. In a rare moment of hesitation, he offered no explanation.

Li Zhen didn’t seem to care about the silence, continuing to toy with the other man’s hair. “Were you protecting him, taking the fall for his crime, or…” He paused, his voice turning cold. “Were you his accomplice?”

Taking the fall, or being an accomplice.

Did it even matter now?

Zhu Qinghou let out a laugh a muffled sound that seemed to leak from his throat.

Throughout it all, Li Zhen just listened to him laugh.

When Zhu Qinghou finished, he asked, “Does it matter?”

Regardless of the truth, Li Zhen was blind. Instead of focusing on a cure, he was obsessing over the past, digging through the dirt to find who was right or wrong. What was the point of any of it?

Outside, the wind and rain turned the day dark. Branches swayed, casting shadows like ghosts. The light inside the hall dimmed, making everything look hazy and unreal.

After a long silence, Li Zhen said softly, “You are right.” He laughed, a sound so faint one might wonder if it was an illusion. “It truly doesn’t matter.”

The atmosphere felt bizarre. Zhu Qinghou wasn’t oblivious; his chest felt tight, and he didn’t feel like talking anymore.

But Li Zhen seemed to have opened a floodgate, speaking as if to himself: “Whatever he could give you, I can give you as well.”

He can see me. Can you? Zhu Qinghou grumbled in his head. He didn’t dare say it aloud, fearing that if Li Zhen lost control, the “Two Hearts as One” parasite would start acting up again.

Though he hadn’t spoken, Li Zhen seemed to hear him. His hand, which had been stroking the other man’s hair, froze. His voice took on a strangely tender, lingering tone: “I will see you.”

There were so many medicines in the world. He would try them one by one until he was cured.

And if that failed, he would simply make Li Jue blind, too.

Yingjing, The Eastern Palace. Thousands of miles away.

Li Jue sneezed loudly. His attendants immediately grew tense, swarming around him. The Manager of the Eastern Palace whispered anxiously, “Your Highness, the spring chill in April is biting. If you catch a cold, the Empress will be worried. It’s all because the servants were careless. I shall have them punished immediately.”

Li Jue, feeling restless, ignored him. Attendants were dragged away in the blink of an eye and replaced by a new batch.

Throughout the entire process, Li Jue never even looked up.

“Yongzhou…” His expression was icy, enough to make anyone shudder. “How is the situation there now?”

Xiao Shengjue had been sent back to the capital early. They had assumed he simply couldn’t handle the harsh cold of Yongzhou. Who would have thought.

The man was mad.

A perfectly fine man had gone there for less than two months and returned with his mind shattered, terrified into idiocy.

This was a blatant provocation to the Censorate and the Eastern Palace.

The incident happened under Prince Su’s nose. They had hoped to use it as leverage to impeach him, but a quick investigation revealed that Xiao Shengjue had been bold enough to engage in corruption and extortion in Yongzhou and he had done it in the name of the Eastern Palace.

Such stupidity left Li Jue fuming.

“The trading markets are nearing completion. The court is preparing to send the Commissioner of Mutual Markets to take over.” Because this involved Prince Su, the Manager had to be extremely cautious.

Li Jue looked grim, his handsome face set in a serious line. To build those markets, Xiao Shengjue had asked for massive amounts of silver from the Eastern Palace. To see all that money thrown in without even hearing a splash made his heart ache with frustration.

Li Jue gave several orders. He was determined to keep the markets in his grip, buy up the tea and silk the Wei needed, and sell them at a massive markup.

Most importantly, he could not allow Prince Su to benefit.

Having finished his orders, Li Jue gazed toward the direction of Yongzhou and sighed softly. Sensing his mood, the Manager lowered his voice: “That person has been gone for two months. In the hands of Prince Su, I fear…”

He feared there wasn’t even a body left to bury.

Li Jue understood the implication. He sat in a daze for a moment.

“We were brothers once, after all. When you send people to Yongzhou, arrange for his funeral matters as well.”

As the legitimate son of the Empress, Li Jue had always followed the rules and acted with restraint. To secretly send someone to bury a criminal slave of the lowest class—he felt he was being quite deep and loyal.

The Manager looked at the faint expression on Li Jue’s face and felt a sudden chill.

Zhu Qinghou.

The Crown Prince’s own cousin. He had done countless things for the Eastern Palace over the years. To Li Jue, he was blood; to the heir apparent, he was a loyal subject.

Even back then.

He had taken the fall for such a massive crime for the sake of His Highness.

And now, His Highness simply gave a light command to bury him, granting him a simple after-death arrangement.

Well, the man is dead anyway, the Manager sighed to himself.

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