After the Cold and Aloof Husband's Mask Falls - Chapter 32

Inside the Relay Station

Zhu Hengyuan, a guard of the Embroidered Uniform, had just finished settling the Roulan Prince and Doctor Chen when he realized his commander had not yet entered. He peered out the door and saw her standing by a luxurious carriage in the courtyard, seemingly lost in thought.

Zhu Hengyuan started to jog toward her, but at that moment, the sky broke. A torrential downpour erupted; pea-sized raindrops slammed against his boots, causing him to instinctively recoil and pull his foot back.

In that same instant, Gu Wanlan moved. With a swift, practiced whirl, she flicked a piece of silver she had palmed toward the source of a hidden gaze!

The silver sliced through the heavy curtain of rain like a sharp arrow. Crack! Something fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

“Zhu Hengyuan! Second floor, third room to the left! Go!”

Zhu Hengyuan’s body moved faster than his mind. Before he could process what was happening, his blade was drawn. He kicked open the door to the designated room and roared, “Embroidered Uniform Guards! Everyone out!”

By then, Gu Wanlan had already reached the landing. Water dripped from the ends of her hair—she looked somewhat disheveled from the soaking, but her presence remained commanding. She started to wipe the rain from her face but paused, her hand hovering before she slowly lowered it.

She stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the interior. She arched an eyebrow in surprise.

Inside was a man dressed in white, wearing a veiled bamboo hat. Beside him stood a servant who glared at her with suppressed fury. “Even under the feet of the Son of Heaven, do you Embroidered Uniform Guards think you can act with such lawless impunity?”

Gu Wanlan ignored him, walking over to pick up her piece of silver. Beside it lay the shattered remains of a vase; it seemed someone had grabbed it to intercept her projectile. She glanced at the servant’s bleeding right hand, narrowed her eyes, and then turned her attention back to the silent, veiled man.

“Spying on an official of the court, and yet you still hide your head and tail like a coward?”

“My Master is ill!” the servant snapped. “He cannot be exposed to the wind!”

“Since the Young Master cannot bear the wind,” Gu Wanlan said nonchalantly, “we guards shall be considerate. Little Zhu, close the doors and windows.”

Zhu Hengyuan obeyed immediately, sealing the room. He then thoughtfully handed Gu Wanlan a handkerchief. She used it to cover her nose and mouth beneath her mask, stepping back several paces from the “ailing” man.

“Very well. Take it off.”

“You… you lot—” The servant was at a loss for words against such rogue-like behavior. The veiled man raised a hand to stop him, shaking his head gently. “It is no matter. We should cooperate with the officials.”

He removed the hat, revealing the pale, sickly face of an unremarkable Great Xia man.

Gu Wanlan felt a flicker of disappointment, but she didn’t let it show. “Fine. Put it back on.”

The man complied, coughing several times before speaking slowly. “I had no intention of spying. It is simply that the carriage you were inspecting belongs to me, so I watched with a bit more interest than usual.”

“Oh? You are the owner of that carriage?” Gu Wanlan sat in a nearby chair and poured herself a cup of cold tea. “In that case, I have truly wronged you, Young Master.”

“I dare not say so. My own conduct was perhaps indiscreet.”

Gu Wanlan stood up, tea cup in hand, and glanced around the room one last time. “Everything seems to be in order. Come, Little Zhu. We’re leaving.”

“Farewell, My Lord.”

Creak— The door closed behind them.

Once they were in the hallway, Zhu Hengyuan lowered his voice. “Do you find him suspicious? Is it a Roulan ambush?”

Gu Wanlan handed him the tea cup she was still playing with. “Want a drink?”

Zhu Hengyuan looked at the cup, confused. When he took it, his face changed. “It’s cold?”

Gu Wanlan smiled. “Indeed. A wealthy young master traveling south for his health, yet the tea in his room is stone cold.”

Zhu Hengyuan’s expression hardened. “I will set a watch on them immediately.”

Gu Wanlan nodded. “Be careful. The stable boy told me this man arrived with three to five servants. When we burst in so aggressively, the others never showed their faces to protect their master. They are plotting something.”

Later that Evening

Near dinner time, Doctor Chen brought good news. The rotting flesh had been removed from the Prince’s wound, and his fever had broken. He was expected to wake by morning.

Gu Wanlan patted the doctor’s shoulder. “Well done. Go get something to eat.”

“I am rather famished,” the doctor admitted. “Come, let us eat together.”

“You go ahead. I’ll eat later,” she said, waving off the other guards. “I’ll stand watch here.”

Once the room was silent, Gu Wanlan stood over the sleeping Prince. Her mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions. She didn’t understand everything yet—but perhaps she didn’t need to. Her face went cold as she reached out toward the unconscious man.

The Dining Hall

Downstairs, the common room was filled with the aroma of cooking. Doctor Chen followed his nose toward the kitchen. “What is that scent? Waiter, bring me a serving of whatever that is!”

“Apologies, sir,” the waiter replied. “That isn’t our chef’s work. A guest has borrowed the kitchen to cook for themselves.”

Xiao Sun also came downstairs, looking surprised. “Someone here knows how to cook Northwest cuisine?”

“Northwest?” Doctor Chen asked.

“It’s the method for preparing mutton used around Changping Pass,” Xiao Sun noted.

Curiosity got the better of the doctor, and he scurried into the kitchen. Xiao Sun followed. Inside, a plain-looking young man was focused on chopping vegetables. He appeared ordinary, save for a pair of exceptionally striking eyes.

“Hey, young man! Can I buy a portion of that from you?” Doctor Chen asked.

The man looked up, pointed at the doctor, and then pointed at his own throat. He was a mute.

The waiter rushed in to explain. “Sirs, this is a ‘Mute Servant’ traveling with the Haoyang Merchant Guild.”

“The Haoyang Guild?” Doctor Chen’s eyes widened. He reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the mutton. “Ah, then I am indeed not worthy of competing for food with his master.”

As they returned to the hall, Xiao Sun mused, “I thought Great Xia valued agriculture over trade. What makes this Haoyang Guild so special?”

“Special? Why, the Haoyang Guild is—” Doctor Chen stopped himself as he remembered he was talking to a Roulan. He rolled his eyes. “None of your Roulan business.”

Suddenly, a scream erupted from the second floor. A guard leaned over the railing, face pale with terror. “Doctor Chen! Doctor Chen! Come quickly! The Prince… the Prince has stopped breathing!”

“What?!” Doctor Chen’s face went white. He stumbled, but the Mute Servant from the kitchen caught him. Xiao Sun didn’t wait; he leaped straight to the second floor in a single bound.

Confusion broke out as guests peered out of their rooms. “Who died?” “The Roulan Prince!”

In the corner of the hall, Zhu Hengyuan set down his tea and smirked. He drew his blade with a resonant shing and slammed it into a table, shattering it. “Embroidered Uniform Guards conducting business! Everyone back to your rooms!”

The Second Floor

Doctor Chen fell to his knees by the bed. “The Prince is gone. Prepare for the funeral.”

“Move!” Xiao Sun roared, shoving the doctor aside. He grabbed the Prince’s wrist. How? How could he be dead?!

He turned to Gu Wanlan, his eyes like those of a cornered beast. “Feiyan! You owe Roulan an explanation!”

“Doctor Chen already said it,” Gu Wanlan replied coolly. “His wounds were too severe. As for why he was wounded, that is a Roulan problem.”

“It was your incompetence that delayed his treatment!”

“If we’re assigning blame, Xiao Sun, it’s yours. If you had reached the capital a day earlier, perhaps he wouldn’t have lingered so long.”

“FEIYAN!!” Xiao Sun swung a fist at her, but a wall of guards instantly blocked him. Gu Wanlan stood her ground, hands behind her back, watching him with a mocking smile.

Xiao Sun forced himself to breathe. He was outnumbered. “Fine. I will take the body back to Roulan immediately.”

“No,” Gu Wanlan countered. “Dead or alive, I am bringing him back to the Western Capital. And you are coming with us.” She signaled her men. “Take him to his room to cool off. We depart tomorrow as planned.”

“Get your hands off me!” Xiao Sun snarled, shaking off the guards. His heterochromatic eyes glowed eerily in the lamplight. “Feiyan, I hope you can remain this arrogant forever.”

Back in his room, Xiao Sun locked the door. His rage vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness. An older man emerged from the shadows. “Prince, did things not go well?”

The man was the servant who had been with the “ailing” Young Master earlier—but his youthful clumsiness was gone, replaced by the aura of a seasoned elder.

“They say he’s dead,” Xiao Sun muttered. “Old Wei, how exactly did you strike him?”

Old Wei chuckled. “What do you think of this Feiyan, Prince?”

“Dangerous. A rival who must be removed.”

“Then I shall kill her tonight,” Old Wei said, licking a scab on his hand. “I haven’t met an opponent who could wound me in a long time.”

“No. She is still useful,” Xiao Sun replied. “I need to pin the death of the ‘Fake Prince’ on Great Xia to reignite the war.”

“But if the fake is already dead, how can we use him?”

Xiao Sun began to laugh—a low, quiet sound that grew into a full, triumphant roar. “Old Wei, do you believe in fate?”

Old Wei frowned. “Prince?”

Xiao Sun didn’t need an answer. He had been searching for Gu Wanlan ever since she “resurrected” at the Duke’s Manor. He knew her secret—the secret of the dead returning to life.

“My fated one has guided me…” Xiao Sun smirked, his expression almost tender in the candlelight. Then, his face snapped back to a cold mask. He extinguished the candle with a flick of his fingers.

“The fake Prince isn’t dead. The mission continues tonight.