After the Corrupt Official Was Coveted by the New Emperor - Chapter 6

Fan Qing led a life of leisure, holding only a minor, idle post in the Ministry of Revenue. Ordinarily, he would not have been qualified to accompany the imperial delegation to Jiangnan. However, having the Marquis of Ning’an as a father had its perks; after a few pleas, he managed to squeeze into the traveling party.

But why trade a life of comfort for the exhaustion of travel? Fan Qing looked at the woman in plain white clothes before him. He simply wanted to confirm one thing.

“I did not know it was the Imperial Noble Consort last time. I hope you will forgive my previous offense.”

Too similar, Fan Qing thought to himself, his mind buzzing as he observed the figure of the person before him. It really is far too similar.

After returning home that day, Fan Qing had spent several restless nights unable to figure out why she seemed so familiar. Eventually, his gaze happened to fall upon a hanging scroll gifted by a friend. He sat up abruptly in bed, finally realizing why the woman’s silhouette felt so recognizable.

Later, when he heard rumors of an Imperial Noble Consort suddenly appearing in the palace, he found himself unable to enter the inner court to verify his suspicions. Fortunately, this trip to Jiangnan provided the perfect opportunity.

Ji Rong watched him quietly, not daring to speak. This “unlucky kid” had heard his female voice before; if he opened his mouth, he might give himself away. With so many people around, exposure would be a social death sentence. For the first time, Ji Rong felt truly grateful for the veiled hat on his head.

He glanced past Fan Qing and saw that the one person capable of restraining the boy had finally arrived. Just as Fan Qing’s lips moved to say something else, a fist collided with his head. This was immediately followed by the angry roar of his father, the Marquis of Ning’an: “What do you think you’re doing!”

The Marquis then turned to Ji Rong and said, “This boy is insensible; he has disturbed your Ladyship’s peace.”

With that, he dragged away the protesting Fan Qing, who was still clutching his head in pain. Ji Rong didn’t say a word. Once they were gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. However, the relief only lasted a moment before he felt a sticky gaze fixed on his back, dark, damp, and persistent.

He shifted his steps and turned around. High up in a stationary carriage, a slender hand with distinct knuckles lifted the curtain, revealing Qi Zhaoxuan’s pale, bloodless face. Half-hidden in the shadows, his silhouette was barely visible. His eyes were dark and brooding as he looked down from his elevated position. Noticing Ji Rong’s gaze, Qi Zhaoxuan slowly allowed a mirthless expression to cross his face, his features shifting unpredictably.

“Dad, stop dragging me! Why did you hit me?”

“I hit you because you deserved it! That is His Majesty’s consort. If you offend the Imperial Noble Consort, how could you possibly take the blame? You’re usually so undisciplined. Do you have a death wish?”

“No, Dad,” Fan Qing argued, “don’t you think that Consort’s figure looks familiar?”

The Marquis of Ning’an snorted coldly. “Familiar how?”

“Don’t you think, don’t you think she looks a lot like Ji Rong?” Perhaps sensing he was losing the argument, Fan Qing’s voice grew smaller.

The Marquis was speechless. “I think you’ve lost your mind.”

Ji Rong had keen hearing; the father and son’s receding argument reached his ears. As he looked toward Qi Zhaoxuan, he saw the Emperor beckon with his hand, signaling him to come over.

The sound of the flowing stream lingered in his ears, and the mottled shadows of leaves flickered across his face. Droplets of water from the stream still clung to his fingers until a handkerchief gently patted them dry. Ji Rong lowered his eyes, gazing at the stream as he calculated his next move.

In Jiangnan, there was Prince Duan, the younger brother of the late Emperor. Relying on the late Emperor’s protection, he had committed countless acts of corruption and greed. Ji Rong had long wanted to find a way to deal with Prince Duan, but the late Emperor had died before he could strike.

Now, Ji Rong pondered for a moment. Given Qi Zhaoxuan’s nature, he would never allow such a massive tumor to continue its tyranny in Jiangnan. The fundamental purpose of this trip was already clear. He just didn’t know how much evidence Qi Zhaoxuan already held.

Regardless, Ji Rong arched an eyebrow; it had nothing to do with him anymore. Since he was currently just an “Imperial Noble Consort,” how to handle the matter was the Emperor’s problem. He didn’t need to worry about it. Besides, he had wanted to visit Jiangnan for a long time. In the past, various matters had always held him back, but this trip was the perfect chance to enjoy himself.

No need to ask, no need to worry. As a “Consort,” all he had to do was have fun. Ji Rong thought about it; he was essentially living his retirement life ahead of schedule.

A light breeze blew by. Ji Rong sniffed; having stayed in Qianqing Palace for so long, even he smelled like the incense Qi Zhaoxuan frequently used. Seeing Ji Rong keeping his head down and pretending not to notice him, Qi Zhaoxuan summoned Li Youde to invite him into the carriage.

“My Lord,” Li Youde looked troubled.

Ji Rong didn’t intend to defy Qi Zhaoxuan. There were many familiar faces among the traveling party, and there was no guarantee that another “idiot” like Fan Qing wouldn’t show up if he stayed outside. Thus, he returned to the carriage.

Inside, the curtains were drawn, and a single candle burned silently, illuminating only a small portion of the interior. Qi Zhaoxuan looked up at the sound. His calm eyes concealed all emotion, appearing like a bottomless abyss. As soon as Ji Rong entered, he took off his veiled hat. Seeing warm tea on the table, he drank it in one gulp.

Qi Zhaoxuan said with an unreadable tone, “The Imperial Preceptor and the Young Marquis truly share a deep and meaningful bond.”

Ji Rong: “?”

Is he having another episode?

Ji Rong couldn’t be bothered with Qi Zhaoxuan’s intermittent fits. He ignored him, partially lifting the curtain to hide his face behind it while feeling the cool mountain breeze. Qi Zhaoxuan toyed with his cup, his mysterious gaze fixed on Ji Rong, scanning him from top to bottom. Sunlight filtered onto Ji Rong, occasionally revealing parts of his face. His eyelashes flickered like small fans, and as the light hit his eyes, they shimmered with a golden, watery luster. His reddened lips were still damp from the tea, and the corners of his eyes tilted up slightly, like a little fox curling its tail while enjoying the sun.

Qi Zhaoxuan licked his lips, unable to look away.

The day they arrived in Jiangnan was sunny and cloudless, with a gentle breeze. Qi Zhaoxuan had come under the guise of an imperial summer retreat, using the full Emperor’s procession. Consequently, Prince Duan had been waiting at the city gates early on.

The rumor of the Emperor’s extreme favor for the Imperial Noble Consort had become deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds during the journey. The two were seen as inseparable, constantly together. The Emperor wouldn’t even let anyone see the Consort’s face, making her wear a veiled hat all day; only the Emperor himself was permitted to see her. This spoke volumes of her status. The only downside was that no one knew the Consort’s name or family background, nor her character or virtue. However, since the Emperor liked her, the ministers couldn’t say much for the time being.

The climate in Jiangnan was much more humid. Ji Rong hopped down from the carriage and followed Qi Zhaoxuan into the temporary palace. Prince Duan followed them inside. Ji Rong took one look at him and chuckled inwardly. It had been a year or two since he last saw Prince Duan, and the man had grown visibly portly. He had several layers of a double chin, and his thin summer clothes only emphasized his bulk.

Ji Rong wasn’t sure what evidence Qi Zhaoxuan had against him, but seeing Prince Duan’s guilty expression, he knew it wasn’t a small matter.

It was around 3:00 PM. Shortly after Ji Rong had settled into a chair to rest, a maid brought in a set of ivory-white clothes. He glanced at the outfit and looked away, complaining internally about how annoying and high-maintenance Qi Zhaoxuan was. He remained lying in the chair without moving until he heard Qi Zhaoxuan’s steady footsteps behind him.

The next moment, a deep voice sounded from behind: “Hasn’t the Imperial Preceptor always wanted to visit Jiangnan? Why haven’t you changed your clothes yet?”

Don’t argue with a crazy person, don’t argue with a crazy person, don’t argue with a crazy person.

Ji Rong repeated the mantra three times in his head. Once he successfully suppressed his emotions, he flashed a “charming” smile at Qi Zhaoxuan, snatched the clothes from the maid, and began to change.

Qi Zhaoxuan stood to the side, his gaze unabashed. With his back turned, Ji Rong wore only a thin, silk-like inner garment beneath the skirt. His slender shoulder blades protruded slightly, and following the smooth lines downward led to a waist so narrow it could be held in one hand. The curve of his hips flared out gracefully, making the line of his posterior look particularly delicate and alluring.

Qi Zhaoxuan’s fingers twitched. He began to raise his arm to touch that back, but before he could, Ji Rong, having grown accustomed to dressing in women’s clothing, quickly finished changing and turned around. Qi Zhaoxuan’s hand froze in mid-air for a second before he pulled it back.

The white skirt was perfectly tailored. With the veiled hat back on, his handsome and elegant face was obscured. A simple black brocade belt accentuated his slim waist, and a pouch hung at his side. There were no other jewels or ornaments, which instead made him look more refined and ethereal.

Ji Rong caught a glimpse of the hand that had tried to move toward him. Seeing the look of regret on Qi Zhaoxuan’s face, he let out a cold snort.

Prince Duan had not yet left. Seeing them emerge, he stepped forward eagerly. “It has been a long journey. I have prepared a banquet to welcome Your Majesty.”

“No need,” Qi Zhaoxuan interrupted coldly before he could finish. “I have come to Jiangnan with my beloved Consort for leisure and to escape the heat. There is no need for such formalities. Keep everything simple.”

Prince Duan smiled awkwardly and fell silent.

Qi Zhaoxuan had changed into black casual robes. He turned and took Ji Rong’s hand. His brow appeared more prominent in the sunlight as he spoke in a gentle tone: “Let us go, my dear Consort.”

The words “my dear Consort” gave Ji Rong goosebumps. Qi Zhaoxuan didn’t say where they were going; he simply ushered him into a carriage. On the small table inside sat a plate of pastries, the faint scent of osmanthus floating in the air.

“This is the osmanthus cake from the famous Ronglian Shop in Jiangnan. Doesn’t the Imperial Preceptor love osmanthus cake the most? Why not try some?”

“How did you know I like osmanthus cake?” Ji Rong asked, realizing the detail.

Qi Zhaoxuan didn’t answer him. Ji Rong didn’t get an answer, but he didn’t press the issue. He caught the scent and picked up a piece of cake, bringing it to his mouth.

How did he know?

Watching the tender tip of a tongue peeping through those rosy lips, Qi Zhaoxuan’s gaze darkened, and the veins on the back of his hand pulsed. Naturally, he knew because of the countless days and years spent secretly watching him, discovering every little detail bit by bit.

Imperial Preceptor, Qi Zhaoxuan pressed his tongue against his cheek and let out a private, silent laugh.