A Thousand-Mile Exile, An Encounter with an Old Friend - Chapter 7

“Xianpu,” Zhu Qinghou called out, using Li Zhen’s courtesy name.

Everyone assumed he was about to beg for mercy, and they were eager to see what kind of excuses he would make.

To their surprise, Zhu Qinghou merely offered a faint smile. He looked at Li Zhen and said, “You feed me.” He arched an eyebrow slightly, his expression nonchalant. He didn’t look like a man being coerced; instead, he looked as if he were waiting for Li Zhen to wait on him.

The onlookers were speechless.

Is our Prince seriously here to serve you?

Li Zhen remained expressionless. His slender fingers felt along the tray before he picked up the bowl of medicinal soup with one hand. His voice was equally cold. “Come here. I will feed you.”

Zhu Qinghou proactively leaned his head forward, resting it beneath Li Zhen’s palm. Li Zhen supported his head and gently brought the bowl to his lips, but then he paused, going no further.

Zhu Qinghou did not beg for mercy, and the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy.

A moment later.

Zhu Qinghou couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. Leaning into Li Zhen’s palm, he reclined lazily.

Li Zhen held the bowl, motionless. The veins on his wrist were faintly visible. Suddenly, he let go, no longer supporting Zhu Qinghou’s head. Instead, he used two fingers to pinch the other man’s cheeks, his thumb locking onto his jaw.

The rim of the bowl pressed against his lips, forcing its way toward his teeth.

It was a gesture full of threat.

Zhu Qinghou finally moved. Without pleading or showing weakness, he leaned forward slightly. Opening his mouth, he took the initiative to drink the medicinal soup right from Li Zhen’s fingertips.

Li Zhen’s hand gave an imperceptible tremor. It felt as if his mind had been struck by a heavy object a silent, dull pain that left his head momentarily blank.

In the next instant.

He used his fingertips to pry open Zhu Qinghou’s teeth, attempting to force him to spit it out.

Zhu Qinghou’s cheeks were gripped tightly, forcing his mouth open. Though he was in a state of utter disarray, his eyes held a faint glimmer of amusement. As the fingers probed inside, he took the opportunity to bite down on Li Zhen’s fingertip.

His lips and teeth brushed against the blood, leaving a warm, damp sensation.

Suddenly, Li Zhen froze. That light touch seemed to drain all the strength from his body. He withdrew his hand and took half a step back.

Zhu Qinghou looked up at him lazily, savoring the faint metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His lips moved soundlessly as he mouthed a single word: “Coward.”

After all these years, the man still hadn’t improved; he only knew how to try and scare him.

But in the end, who was the one actually frightened?

Zhu Qinghou’s smile was pleasant. He casually asked Li Zhen for the name of the Gu. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zhu Xueting’s expression of grief and indignation. Before he could wonder what was wrong with the boy, he heard Li Zhen’s voice by his ear:

“…Two Hearts as One.”

The name of this Gu was “Two Hearts as One.”

Zhu Qinghou was stunned for a moment. “Is that so?” He smiled. “That is actually a beautiful name.”

He wasn’t sure if it was just a hallucination, but after swallowing the medicine, he felt as if insects were crawling within his internal organs—lurking under his skin, hiding in his blood vessels, ready to burst out at any moment.

Did Gu truly exist in this world?

And was it really as Li Zhen described that the sub-Gu could not be far from the mother-Gu, or else the host would drop dead?

…It sounded rather entertaining.

Zhu Qinghou thought with total indifference.

After the “Two Hearts as One” was administered, regardless of whether the Gu was actually working, Li Zhen had clearly become much quieter. He stood there holding the empty bowl, lost in thought.

Nearby, Butler Cui and the others who had witnessed the scene were silent.

Is it an illusion? Why does it feel like His Highness has completely lost the upper hand?

Zhu Qinghou ignored them. He tilted his chin slightly, signaling for the pale-faced, red-eyed Zhu Xueting to go back and rest.

He then turned and walked forward, hooking his finger into the white silk ribbon covering Li Zhen’s eyes, and made a direct demand: “Xianpu, I want to see the tax records for Yongzhou for this season.”

Li Zhen lowered his head, “looking” at him through the white silk. His face was devoid of expression; the emotions from a moment ago had vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed. His voice returned to its usual calm. “I will tell them to you.”

He walked slowly into the inner palace. As he stepped over the threshold, he paused briefly and spoke to Butler Cui behind him. “Butler Cui, there is no need to follow us in.”

Butler Cui lowered his eyes, knowing that the Prince had long since seen through his little trick. Zhu Qinghou stopped in his tracks and said with a beaming, silent smile: “Butler Cui, does this count as you plotting against Xianpu?”

Butler Cui remained expressionless, staring at him quietly. Finding no amusement there, Zhu Qinghou turned serious, not caring if Li Zhen could hear him. “Since this Gu is called ‘Two Hearts as One,’ if the sub-Gu dies, is the mother-Gu truly unaffected?”

Since this involved the Prince’s safety, a ripple of emotion finally appeared on Butler Cui’s face. Zhu Qinghou loved nothing more than teasing these blockheaded, stoic characters. He said with a smile, “From now on, I’ll be counting on you to keep me alive.”

Butler Cui: “…”

He stood there, pondering Zhu Qinghou’s words. If Zhu Qinghou died and the mother-Gu was affected, it would endanger the Prince…

He didn’t dare think further. He realized this man was truly a beautiful disaster, sent specifically to ruin their Prince.

When Zhu Qinghou spoke to Butler Cui, he hadn’t made any effort to hide it from Li Zhen. Li Zhen clearly heard him but showed no reaction, as if he didn’t care that Zhu Qinghou was using his name to intimidate others.

“The taxes in Yongzhou have been increased by thirty percent this season…”

Li Zhen’s voice was straightforward, carrying a clinical, icy calm, like cold jade from a winter spring.

Zhu Qinghou listened with his chin in his hand. Once Li Zhen finished, he said, “Increased by thirty percent? The people at the Ministry of Revenue are that ruthless?” He caught the key point. “Was the imperial decree sent as a public edict, or was it passed down through the ranks?”

Both were intelligent men; Li Zhen immediately understood his meaning. “The political order was first sent to the Provincial Governor and the Regional Inspector, and then they relayed it to me.”

Zhu Qinghou laughed. “You think they wouldn’t dare forge a political order?”

He had gained fame at seventeen and entered officialdom because of it, rising directly to the Department of State Affairs. He had served as a Secretary for five years and was about to be promoted to Vice President of the Department of State Affairs last October—a position of immense prestige and power. Combined with a father who was a Chancellor, second only to the Emperor, he knew the inner workings of the bureaucracy perfectly.

Ultimately, it was all about people dying for wealth and birds dying for food.

Li Zhen remained silent.

As Zhu Qinghou watched his lowered head and contemplative expression, he caught a glimpse of a strange peacefulness. It reminded him of Li Zhen as a youth, sitting by the window of the Imperial School, posture perfectly straight, focused on his books.

“Xianpu,” Zhu Qinghou felt the urge to tease him again. “The Gu is crawling in my heart.” He pretended to be in pain, clutching his chest and leaning over, his voice a weak whisper.

Li Zhen followed the sound and moved closer, tentatively touching his chest. He showed a rare moment of tension. “Is it hurting here?”

Zhu Qinghou took the opportunity to collapse into his arms, resting his head on Li Zhen’s lap. Facing upward, he covered his face with his hand and laughed breathlessly.

“Two Hearts as One.” What a name. It completely exposed Li Zhen’s weakness—he still harbored feelings for their past.

It was clearly just a fleeting, youthful romance.

Back then, he was young and reckless. Seeing that Li Zhen was the most favored among the princes, possessed a divine appearance, and had a mother who was the favorite concubine with a prominent family, he assumed Li Zhen would be the future heir. Because of all that, he had chosen him.

Sensing the violent rise and fall of the young man’s chest in his arms, Li Zhen was momentarily flustered. But once he realized the laughter was being suppressed, the emotion on his face vanished, and he became expressionless once more.

He didn’t tell Zhu Qinghou to get up. Maintaining the posture, he began to stroke the long, dark hair scattered across his lap, which felt as soft as cool silk. “Xiao Yu… does your heart hurt?”

Zhu Qinghou was about to mock him for believing the lie, but his chest suddenly seized with sharp pain. It felt as if something were swarming inside him. The pain caused him to curl into a ball in Li Zhen’s arms, and he couldn’t help but plead, “…It hurts, it hurts so much, Xianpu…” He grabbed Li Zhen’s belt, pulling so hard that the ceremonial sword clashed against the jade pendant on his neck with a rhythmic chime. He whispered through the pain, “Xianpu… have mercy.”

The pang of pain vanished instantly. Zhu Qinghou’s slender spine was still trembling slightly. A wave of shock crashed through his mind: Gu really existed in this world.

And it was this kind—a type that controlled the heart and could make one wish for life or death.

…Interesting. Li Zhen was much more interesting now than he used to be.

Li Zhen kept his head lowered. He could feel that the hair of the youth in his arms was damp with sweat, the cold perspiration soaking into his own robes. The warmth traveled through the fabric to his skin. His movements were gentle as he repeatedly stroked Zhu Qinghou’s cold face. “Didn’t you say it hurt?”

If he was in pain, Li Zhen would feel for him. If he wasn’t in pain but lied about it, Li Zhen would make it real.

What kind of logic was that?

Zhu Qinghou wanted to laugh. He pulled his lips back in a weak smile, leaning limply in Li Zhen’s embrace. Staring at the other man’s chest, his thoughts drifted, instinctively searching for a way to break the Gu.

If the mother-Gu dies, the sub-Gu dies with it.

Then, if he were to cut the mother-Gu out while it was still alive and carry it with him, wouldn’t he be fine?

“Xiao Yu, what are you thinking?” Li Zhen seemed able to see through his thoughts. He gently brushed away the messy, damp hair, gathering a handful of the tresses in his palm. His tone was so calm it was almost eerie. “Are you thinking about how to cut the mother-Gu out?”

Zhu Qinghou felt a shiver of dread. This sensation of being seen through was both terrifying and stimulating. He proactively wrapped his arms around Li Zhen’s arm, sitting up slightly and hooking the hanging white silk ribbon. “You even managed to find ‘Two Hearts as One.’ The medicine for your eyes…” He pressed further, “When will you find it?”

If Li Zhen regained his sight, the people in the capital would likely lose sleep. The political landscape of the court would undergo a massive upheaval.

The weaker one is, the more one needs to muddy the waters to find an opportunity.

Li Zhen did not speak. He held the youth in his arms as if he were holding a drift of snow. “Didn’t you say that you didn’t want me to look at anyone else?”

“That was then,” Zhu Qinghou replied. Fearing Li Zhen would bring up more old stories until his ears grew calloused, he casually defended himself. “I was young and foolish back then. Now, I only wish for your well-being.”

His voice grew softer. “Even if you were to see a goddess or a celestial maiden, I wouldn’t blame you.”

A fine “I wouldn’t blame you”—as if it were Li Zhen’s fault in the first place.

Li Zhen was long accustomed to his talent for twisting the truth and didn’t find it surprising. He murmured under his breath, “The thought of you seeing someone else makes my heart ache as well.” He sounded as if he were asking for Zhu Qinghou’s advice. “Xiao Yu, help me think of a way. How can I stop the aching?”

Zhu Qinghou flinched. He turned and wrapped his arms around Li Zhen’s neck, sitting on his lap. “If I lost my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.” His voice trembled slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was from fear or sorrow. “You must get well quickly and look at me.”

He felt a bit annoyed. First, Li Zhen used the Gu to scare him, and now he was using his eyes to scare him. Was scaring him really that much fun?

Fine. If he wanted to see him afraid, he would show him fear.

A very soft chuckle came from above.

Zhu Qinghou was about to continue speaking when his head felt a slight weight. Li Zhen’s palm came down, gently stroking his soft, dark hair.

“Xiao Yu,” Li Zhen spoke as if he were petting a favorite animal, his voice deep and icy. “Do you finally know how to be afraid?”

Craving life and fearing death, seeking benefit and avoiding harm—these were human instincts.

“I…” Zhu Qinghou searched for the sweet words of a lover. After a moment, the words flowed out naturally. “As long as I am by your side, I am not afraid.”

Li Zhen remained silent for a moment. It seemed Zhu Qinghou was born with a silver tongue, capable of making the most insincere words sound incredibly moving. He didn’t want to hear any more. He gently pushed the man off his lap, stood up, and walked slowly toward the writing desk in the hall.

Zhu Qinghou tumbled back into a chair. His heart was racing. For a moment there, he had felt that Li Zhen wasn’t just trying to scare him.

However, even if he were to become blind, he didn’t believe he would lose his edge entirely.

Then, remembering Li Zhen’s retreat earlier, Zhu Qinghou felt like laughing again. If Li Zhen wanted to play games with him, it remained to be seen who would come out on top.

He reclined casually, his cunning eyes darting around as he brainstormed ten thousand ways to subdue Li Zhen.

Seeing Li Zhen put on his fox-fur cloak as if preparing to go out, he asked casually, “What do you plan to do? Force Shang Qingyun to show you the imperial decree?”

Li Zhen stopped. In a border fortress surrounded by fierce officials, the quickest and most effective method wasn’t complex schemes or diplomacy—it was military suppression and bloodshed.

Zhu Qinghou could actually see a trace of ruthless killing intent in Li Zhen’s elegant and dignified features. He sat up, leaning his head on his hand, and smiled. “A vassal king has no authority to appoint officials. Even if you get rid of one Shang Qingyun, there will be a continuous stream of court officials.”

One after another, they would be transferred here to oppose the vassal king and limit his power. Since that was the case, why not just make the situation even bigger?

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