A Thousand-Mile Exile, An Encounter with an Old Friend - Chapter 36

“Every year during the festivals, and on your birthdays, I would send people to Yongzhou with gifts,” Zhu Qinghou said softly.

Li Zhen stood where he was, his sharp brow casting a faint shadow. Beneath the white silk, the cold, stern outline of his eye sockets was barely visible.

Just as Zhu Qinghou began to wonder if someone had intercepted the items, causing Li Zhen to receive nothing at all, the other man suddenly spoke: “Are you referring to those cold, lifeless things?”

Zhu Qinghou breathed a sigh of relief at least the items had reached Li Zhen’s hands. But a moment later, he bristled. “What do you mean, ‘those cold, lifeless things’?”

Those were treasures he had meticulously selected, jewels of gold and emerald. Any one of them would have been enough to dazzle the decadent young masters of the capital.

Over the past four years, he had sent countless pieces of fine jade and precious pearls to Yongzhou, yet in Li Zhen’s mouth, they were reduced to nothing more than “cold things.”

Zhu Qinghou opened his mouth to argue, but then he abruptly remembered that Li Zhen could see nothing. The magnificent colors and intricate designs of the gems were only endless darkness to him; when he reached out, he could only feel a surface of ice-cold stone.

In that sense, Li Zhen wasn’t wrong.

He swallowed his words and stopped arguing.

Li Zhen said calmly, “The ‘care’ you speak of. was simply sending me those?”

For four years, he had sent a mountain of glittering, cold jade, but not a single letter. Not even a few words of greeting.

To the Zhu Qinghou of those days, those treasures—precious in the eyes of the world—were merely things he could obtain with a snap of his fingers. He had acquired them effortlessly and gifted them away just as casually.

At this thought, Li Zhen laughed, the curve of his lips cold and indifferent.

Watching that icy smile, Zhu Qinghou found himself at a loss for words. He was usually eloquent, yet during those years, every time he had picked up a brush to write Li Zhen a letter, he would hold it for a long time without being able to set down a single character.

Li Zhen’s blindness and his loss of the throne were a jagged rift between them that could never be bridged. Whenever he wanted to say something, he simply didn’t know where to start.

“…That’s all in the past,” Zhu Qinghou said, changing the subject somewhat awkwardly. “You should still be cautious with those pills. Safety first; do not be too impatient.”

Li Zhen took the medicine bottle from him, opened the cap right in front of him, poured out two pills, and swallowed them.

His movements were fluid, swift, and composed. Zhu Qinghou hadn’t expected that just as he finished his warning, Li Zhen would so blatantly disregard his words. He flared up in anger: “Xianpu!”

Zhu Qinghou reached out to grab Li Zhen’s arm, but looking up and seeing the man’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, he knew the pills were gone. He let out a heavy, cold sneer. “Fine, eat them then. I’ll just wait to see which comes first—your sight or your death.”

In all his life, he had never spoken such harsh words to anyone. The moment they left his lips, he felt he had lost his composure. He couldn’t help but wonder where his legendary tact had gone—why did he become such a defenseless, loose-tongled fool whenever he was in front of Li Zhen?

Zhu Qinghou instinctively let go of the man’s arm and observed his expression. If Li Zhen was truly angry, he wouldn’t be able to stay here tonight.

Li Zhen only gave him a deep “look,” capped the bottle calmly, and turned around. In a place where Zhu Qinghou couldn’t see, the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly.

He liked seeing Zhu Qinghou bristle because of him. Even if he couldn’t see it, he could distinguish the emotions through his voice—Zhu Qinghou was terrified that something would happen to him.

Regardless of the reason, as long as the man’s attention was on him, as long as half his heart was tethered here, that was enough.

The officials from the Mutual Market Commission had already set off for the trading grounds. It wouldn’t be long before they met the officials sent from Yongzhou. Regardless of how that encounter would play out, there was a more pressing matter at hand:

Li Zhen’s birthday was approaching.

Zhu Qinghou thought it over and over but couldn’t decide on a gift. Li Zhen lacked for nothing in the material sense; the one thing he truly lacked, Zhu Qinghou couldn’t give him yet.

Lost in thought, he walked into Li Zhen’s study as usual, only to hear an unfamiliar voice coming from within: “The daughter of the Xie family… it seems His Majesty intends to decree a marriage…”

From those few fragmented words, Zhu Qinghou quickly pieced together the whole picture. That old fox, Emperor Jingshun, intended to marry a daughter of the Xie clan to Li Zhen.

The Xie clan of Chenjun was a powerful aristocratic family on par with the Wei clan of Jingzhao. If Li Zhen could ally with them through marriage, it would be a massive boon to his power.

For Li Zhen, it was a good thing.

Standing outside the door, for some reason, Zhu Qinghou didn’t go in for a long time.

A guard watching the hall noticed him and was about to greet him, but the young man in purple suddenly turned and walked away without looking back.

Zhu Qinghou didn’t even call for a litter; he just walked aimlessly, repeating to himself in his head: This is a good thing. With the power of the Xie clan, I can return to the capital faster, clear my name faster. As for my past with Li Zhen…

With the arrival of a new Princess Consort, that chapter would naturally be closed, never to be mentioned again.

Between supreme power and a bit of inconsequential sentiment, anyone would know which to choose.

He stopped walking and realized he had subconsciously returned to his chambers. Uncle Cui was standing on the long stone steps, watching him with a calm, cold gaze that seemed to have seen through everything long ago.

Zhu Qinghou felt drained, having no energy left to bicker. He simply gave a faint greeting and walked toward the hall. If Li Zhen wanted to marry, he would marry. It had nothing to do with him.

However, Uncle Cui did something rare: he called out to him. “Zhu Qinghou.” He used his full name, and once Zhu Qinghou turned back, he said in a low voice: “Find a way to beg His Highness to remove the parasite. Keeping that thing is good for no one.”

Zhu Qinghou stood still, stunned for a moment, before letting out a soft laugh. “You are his elder. If you speak to him, he will surely listen to you.”

Uncle Cui’s words weren’t without merit. If a Princess Consort entered the household while the “Two Hearts as One” parasite remained, wouldn’t that be a mess?

After a pause, Zhu Qinghou added: “Thank you for the reminder.” With that, he turned and continued into the hall.

Uncle Cui watched his thin yet upright silhouette and let out a silent sigh. For over a decade, Li Zhen and Zhu Qinghou had been childhood friends. He had watched the Prince grow up, but he had watched Zhu Qinghou grow up as well.

Yet hearts were fickle. For the sake of his family’s glory, Zhu Qinghou had actually poisoned the Prince at his own birthday banquet. That one act was something Uncle Cui could never ignore, let alone forgive.

If he, an outsider, felt this way, the Prince—the victim—would only care more.

Once the Princess Consort arrives, let all these grudges and debts be scattered to the wind, he thought.

Inside the hall, Zhu Qinghou lay on the canopy bed, staring blankly at the cold sword hanging above. Since he had grown used to sleeping here, he no longer found the weapon frightening.

As he stared, the thought of Li Zhen’s marriage bubbled up again.

The Xie clan of Chenjun. the Emperor’s marriage decree.

Those two phrases circled in his mind, making it impossible to sleep.

Setting aside those messy thoughts, Zhu Qinghou began to think deeply: Why would Emperor Jingshun choose to decree a marriage now? On the surface, it was because Li Zhen would be twenty-five after his birthday an age where he should be married. But in reality…

Connecting this to the recent news of the Crown Prince being scolded by the Emperor, Zhu Qinghou caught a glimpse of the truth. Emperor Jingshun was naturally suspicious; he would never allow the Eastern Palace to become so powerful that it threatened his own throne. To create a counterweight and balance the situation, he intended to pull Li Zhen back onto the stage.

As for why he chose Li Zhen over the other princes…

Zhu Qinghou’s eyes narrowed. It was likely that the movement regarding the three-dynasty trade markets was too significant and had caught the Emperor’s eye.

So, would Li Zhen agree to the marriage? Zhu Qinghou suddenly realized how ridiculous the thought was. When the Emperor decrees a marriage, there is no such thing as “agreeing” or “refusing.”

If he refused, the Xie clan would become enemies instead of allies, and Emperor Jingshun would certainly be displeased.

After a bout of chaotic thinking, Zhu Qinghou pulled the quilt over his head and went to sleep—a habit he had developed in the Decree Prison. Whenever he faced a problem he couldn’t solve, he would simply sleep.

Perhaps things would change when he woke up.

However, more often than not, no such turn of events occurred. Usually, there was only one outcome: he would be forced, either passively or actively, to accept reality.

In the study.

Li Zhen sat quietly across from a man named Cui Yu, the head of the Cui family of Qinghe. Cui Yu had traveled a great distance to bring this news, his words clearly urging Li Zhen to proactively accept the marriage.

To an outsider, this marriage was logical, beneficial, and entirely without drawbacks.

“I have troubled my uncle for making this trip,” Li Zhen said warmly. “You should stay here for a few more days before returning.”

Cui Yu saw Li Zhen’s non-committal attitude and didn’t know what to say to this nephew of his. It was a pity his mother had passed away years ago, leaving him blind and alone to guard the border in a desolate land.

If he married a daughter of the Xie clan, not only would he gain their support, but he would also have someone close to him. He wouldn’t have to sleep alone with a cold pillow.

Cui Yu let out a soft sigh and gave a veiled warning: “A fall in the pit is a gain in your wit. Your Highness must be careful.”

Two months ago, they had learned that that man had been exiled to Yongzhou and sent to the Prince Su estate on his first night. They had thought it would allow the Prince to vent his anger and resolve the knot in his heart. Who would have thought…

The Prince had fallen for him all over again.

Recalling the past, Cui Yu could only shake his head in private. Back then, the Prince had gone to the birthday banquet at the Zhu estate, drank a single cup of wine, and was blind by the next morning. The Emperor had immediately arrested the culprit. Consort Cui had fainted and woken up repeatedly, declaring that the truth must be found regardless of the cost—that even if the man named Zhu were executed, the Prince must have justice.

At that time, many of the nobles in the capital had raced in their carriages to plead for mercy for Zhu Qinghou, clogging the streets until they were impassable.

None of that mattered. The most important thing was what happened next.

Just as Cui Yu reached the Qianqiu Gate, he saw the Prince’s carriage speed in ahead of him. By the time he hurried to Consort Cui’s palace, a figure was already kneeling beneath the massive palace gates.

He remembered that scene to this day.

The young man, barely twenty, had his back ramrod straight. His usually impeccable clothes were somewhat disheveled, and the hem of his snow-white robes was splattered with mud, stained and filthy.

His eyes were already covered with a thin strip of white silk, hiding his gaze and his expression.

Just like all the other nobles in the capital.

He had come to plead for mercy for Zhu Qinghou.

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