Captured by the Emperor After a Successful Faked Death - Chapter 6

The result of staying up late to read storybooks was that the next day, both of them appeared in the Buddha Hall with massive dark circles under their eyes.

Xie Chengyun was still immersed in the ruins of his shattered and reconstructed worldview and didn’t notice that Zhu Yunyin was acting strangely. As for Zhu Yunyin, he was still stewing in his own jealousy, having spent the night ordering people to seize and seal the bookstores selling these books.

Still feeling that wasn’t enough, he asked the guard, “Are there any others?”

The guard was taken aback by the question: “Does Your Majesty mean…?”

Zhu Yunyin said nothing, merely giving him a sidelong glance.

The guard assumed he still wanted to read more, thinking that even an Emperor is a mortal, after all. Since he himself was a “CP fan” of Xie Chengyun—though he preferred Xie Chengyun and Han Cizhi rather than Xie and the Marquis of Dingyuan—he thought, A temperamental physician and a sickly beauty; hiding in the mountains for years only to emerge to save you—that is truly delicious! I’m hungry for this! Delicious!

Eager to promote his own ship, but cautious, the guard reported a long list of names.

Zhu Yunyin felt as if he were going mad. How are there so many?

The guard, seemingly reading his thoughts, whispered, “After all, Prime Minister Xie achieved fame at a young age, and he is so peerlessly beautiful, like a fallen immortal.”

Zhu Yunyin stroked his head, his thoughts shifting, and he asked, “Then, are there any about me and the Father-in-court?”

The guard was shocked, fearing for his own life. He knelt immediately: “This servant does not know.”

Zhu Yunyin: “A crime of deceiving the Emperor is a capital offense. Think carefully before you speak.”

The guard hesitated for a moment before saying, “There are… some…”

Zhu Yunyin suppressed the joy in his heart, feigning indifference. “Then buy a copy and bring it back for me to see.”

The guard left, full of confusion, leaving behind a Zhu Yunyin whose heart was fluttering with spring-like romance.

Originally, Zhu Yunyin had wanted to chop down that Marriage Tree, but thinking of the storybooks featuring him and the Father-in-court, he wondered if that meant there were talismans out there that could tie the knot between them as well?

Thus, on a dark, windy night, Zhu Yunyin sneaked to the base of the Marriage Tree and flipped through them one by one. He didn’t find any tags with his and the Father-in-court’s names, but he did find a pile of them inscribed with the Father-in-court’s name alongside others.

Enraged, Zhu Yunyin took all those tags down and threw them into a fire to use as firewood. He then wrote his own name alongside his Father-in-court’s on new tags, hung them all over the tree, and departed in satisfaction.

For several days, the two of them wandered about with dark circles under their eyes, finally drawing attention.

A young monk approached them with his hands pressed together: “Patron, your complexions seem weary. Is it because you are unaccustomed to temple life?”

Xie Chengyun waved his hands repeatedly: “No, no. It’s just that I’ve been having nightmares lately and can’t sleep well.”

The young monk was relieved. “If you need anything, Patron, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Xie Chengyun nodded and asked, “Young Monk, where are you headed?”

The monk hesitated, but seeing Xie Chengyun’s dignified and graceful manner, he spoke: “It is somewhat difficult to say, but lately someone has been stealing the wooden tags from the Marriage Tree, and we are preparing to assign people to keep watch.”

Zhu Yunyin looked at his nose and then at his heart, maintaining an air of “this has nothing to do with me.”

Xie Chengyun was shocked: “How could someone steal tags from the Marriage Tree! As the saying goes, ‘Better to tear down a temple than destroy a marriage.’ How could anyone commit such a detestable act?”

He had completely forgotten that yesterday he himself had been planning how to go to the Marriage Tree to take down the tags bearing his name and that of Zhou Biji to burn them.

Xie Chengyun: Well done!!!

By the afternoon, Xie Chengyun took advantage of the little Emperor’s absence to sneak to the Marriage Tree to inspect the tags. If he hadn’t looked, it would have been fine, but one look gave him a fright why was the tree covered entirely in tags with his and the little Emperor’s names?!

Xie Chengyun was horrified. Are you all that unpicky? We are a generation apart! A generation!!! And Zhu Yunyin is the Emperor! The Emperor!!!

You are all shipping the Emperor and the Prime Minister, and hanging it all over the tree—is this really allowed? Will you not be beheaded for this? Aaaaah!

Fortunately, the little Emperor wasn’t there to see the tree covered in these tags, or Xie Chengyun feared for his life. Setting up a “match” for a harem-novel protagonist—what in the world were they thinking?

But by the middle of the night, the more Xie Chengyun thought about it, the more uneasy he grew. He crawled out of bed, covered his face with a random cloth, put on black clothes, and spent the entire night plucking off the tags.

I thought I came here to recover from an illness; why am I here doing manual labor? The more Xie Chengyun thought, the more incredible it seemed. Could he and Zhu Yunyin’s ship be so demonic that it wouldn’t be struck by lightning?

Early the next morning, Zhu Yunyin went over as usual to admire the tags he had hung. He had hired the best craftsmen outside to carve them, wishing for a “hundred-year harmony,” and had even had them brushed with fine tung oil. They had looked so beautiful on the tree, and yet, after one night, they were ALL! GONE!

Zhu Yunyin couldn’t believe it. There were so many tags; how could they all be gone?

Yes, there had been quite a few. Xie Chengyun had spent the entire night plucking them off, only finishing just before dawn. Dizzy and exhausted, he had collapsed and fallen fast asleep.

Zhu Yunyin still stood under the Marriage Tree, eyes wide. A thief! A shameless thief! They must just be jealous that he has a Father-in-court! But it matters not; he still had the ones he hadn’t hung yet.

The little Emperor returned to his room and dragged a large wooden chest out from under his bed. He had meant to wait for the tags on the tree to fade before replacing them, but they were coming in handy now. He put on a veil, and with great devotion, hung them all over the tree once more. He didn’t forget to check if there were any “leftover” tags—any tags with his Father-in-court’s name alongside someone else’s.

Very good, not a single one. After hanging them, Zhu Yunyin bowed to the tree, wishing that he and the Father-in-court could be inseparable and united for a hundred years.

Having finished his devotions, he went off with peace of mind to tend the fire and cook for his Father-in-court. That was right while at Fayuan Temple, it was Zhu Yunyin who cooked for Xie Chengyun. He lived up to his status as the Long Aotian protagonist; he was quick to learn everything, and his cooking was exquisite.

Seeing that he was still asleep, Zhu Yunyin remembered that the Father-in-court had been having nightmares lately, so he didn’t wake him. As a result, Xie Chengyun didn’t wake up until noon.

After freshening up, the little Emperor placed the meal on the table: succulent mandarin fish and crystal-clear rice. Because of his labor the night before, just as Xie Chengyun was about to eat his third bowl, the little Emperor blocked him.

“Father-in-court, the ancients say to eat with moderation.”

Xie Chengyun rubbed his round belly and finally set his chopsticks down.

Zhu Yunyin went to wash the dishes, and Xie Chengyun wandered off to walk, intending to see if there were any beautiful maidens to observe and to listen for gossip. But no sooner had he arrived at the Marriage Tree than it was covered in tags again.

Xie Chengyun thought he was hallucinating, but then thought, Yes, this tree is so efficacious, there must be many people hanging tags. But the more he looked, the more uneasy he grew. Finally, he couldn’t help himself. Muttering three prayers for forgiveness, he picked up a wooden tag; inscribed upon it, clear as day, were the names: —Zhu Yunyin, Xie Chengyun.

Damn it! Xie Chengyun dropped the tag and went to check others. Sure enough, every single tag on the tree was inscribed with his and Zhu Yunyin’s names. Grass! Xie Chengyun swore, a rare burst of profanity. Does this stupid tree refresh itself? Why is it covered again today?

Xie Chengyun had been holding the tag for a long time, his face twisted. A young monk nearby who was in charge of the tree looked at him with increasing suspicion. Xie Chengyun noticed his gaze, hurriedly put the tag down, and signaled that he was a good person—he was not interested in these tags, he wasn’t, he didn’t have any tags.

Just then, Zhu Yunyin finished the dishes and came out looking for him. Xie Chengyun was frightened out of his wits he couldn’t let the little Emperor see this! He hurriedly hurried over, grabbed the little Emperor’s hand, and dragged him somewhere else.

This suited Zhu Yunyin perfectly; he didn’t dare let his Father-in-court see the tags on the tree. He had written those names himself, and he feared the Father-in-court might discover them and question him.

The two of them, each harboring their own secrets, arrived at the Scripture Library. Seeing the walls lined with scriptures and the scent of floating incense, even the turbulent waves in their hearts settled down, as if they were receiving a cleansing.

Master Wuyuan approached them with his hands pressed together and bowed. Xie Chengyun returned the gesture, but since the library was no place for conversation, they followed Master Wuyuan outside.

The Master motioned for them to sit and poured tea. “Distinguished guests have come from afar, and I have only coarse tea to offer. I hope you will not mind.”

Xie Chengyun shook his head and picked up his teacup. This was no coarse tea; it was the finest Maojian snow tea. It tasted sweet upon entering the mouth and carried the fragrance of mountains and rivers.

Seeing Zhu Yunyin drink the tea, Master Wuyuan said: “I have something to say to this Patron, and I hope the young Patron will excuse us.”

Zhu Yunyin tugged on Xie Chengyun’s sleeve, and Xie Chengyun looked at him and said slowly: “Go, I will be back in a moment.”

Seeing the little Emperor look back with every step, Xie Chengyun felt a rare twinge of guilt, but he was truly curious about what Master Wuyuan had to say. In The First Emperor Through the Ages, Master Wuyuan was a famous high monk. It was hard enough for an ordinary person to see him once, let alone speak with him.

Master Wuyuan pressed his hands together: “Patron, have you been suffering from distress lately? You also seem physically unwell. You have had many nightmares and wake up in a fright in the middle of the night.”

The monk was divine. Xie Chengyun nodded repeatedly.

“As a newcomer, your soul is unstable. Thus, you dream of events from your past life, and given your physical weakness, you are prone to nighttime visitations. Hiding your name here to live in seclusion, listening to scriptures and quieting your mind, will keep you safe.”

If people find out this shell has been swapped, they’ll burn me as a demon, Xie Chengyun thought, his smile not reaching his eyes. “What are you talking about, Master? I don’t understand.”

Seeing Xie Chengyun playing dumb, the monk said no more, only continuing: “The young Patron outside is protected by the Mandate of Heaven; his future is boundless.”

Isn’t that the truth? He was the male lead, after all. He believed it even if the monk said he could poke a hole in the sky.

“However…” At the transition, Xie Chengyun pricked up his ears: “This child is destined to be a ‘Heavenly Solitary Star’ of destruction. If you wish to survive, Patron, you must stay away from him. From here on, he will either reign for a thousand generations and leave his name in history, or he will be a murderous tyrant, causing the people to live in misery.”

Zhu Yunyin stood outside the door, expressionless. He knew these words were meant for him.

Once the prophecy was spoken, Xie Chengyun felt a chill run down his back. Forgetting all etiquette, he grabbed the monk’s robes and said: “I beg the Master to enlighten me!”

The monk pressed his hands together and recited: “The Buddha says, ‘It cannot be spoken, it cannot be spoken. To speak is to be wrong.'”

Xie Chengyun held onto him, still wanting to say something, but several martial monks arrived and “politely” escorted him out. Zhu Yunyin had already left. Xie Chengyun stood at the entrance, feeling anxious and uneasy.

Less than two hours later, Master Wuyuan passed away in meditation. For one hundred days, the Fayuan Temple chanted scriptures to pray for the Master. Listening to the sound of the chants, Xie Chengyun fell asleep, and indeed, never had a nightmare again.