Drunk on Madness - Chapter 24

That afternoon, after finishing lunch, Zhou Mingxuan prepared to go into town to gather some news. By now, Li Xiang knew she could no longer keep the matter hidden, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak the truth outright.

Ever since learning of the Prince of Yan’s death, she hadn’t dared to go into town for updates. Any necessities she needed were bought for her by Sister Zhu.

The sunlight was warm, the breeze gentle, and the marketplace bustled with activity, lively and vibrant.

They strolled slowly through the market. Zhou Mingxuan’s foot had only recently healed, so Li Xiang didn’t want him walking too much. Passing by a corner, Li Xiang spotted a small teahouse.

Two red paper lanterns swayed gently above the teahouse’s entrance. Zhou Mingxuan and Li Xiang walked in side by side.

They found a seat by the window, where they could see the bustling crowd outside. The teahouse owner, a kind-faced middle-aged woman, hurried over with a warm smile as soon as she noticed customers. “What would you two like to drink?”

Li Xiang replied casually, “A pot of Biluochun, please. And two plates of snacks, whatever you recommend.”

Soon, the waiter brought the tea and snacks. Li Xiang poured tea for both of them and had just taken a bite of pastry when faint murmurs from the next table caught their attention, specifically, the mention of “Meridian Gate.” Zhou Mingxuan immediately perked up.

He set down his teacup, ears unconsciously straining to listen.

“There’s been quite a stir in the imperial city lately. I heard thousands died at the Meridian Gate that day,” one of the neighboring guests whispered, his tone a mix of awe and sorrow.

“But wasn’t the Prince of Yan assassinated earlier this year? Why would the Emperor have his household servants executed at the Meridian Gate?” another guest asked curiously, keeping his voice equally low to avoid disturbing others.

“Root and branch, they say even the Prince’s uncrowned heir and adopted son were among them,” the first guest continued, his voice heavy with lament.

In another corner of the teahouse, a guest grew agitated, his voice trembling with anger as he vented his grievances against the Emperor.

“That tyrant is truly blind!” he slammed the table, his voice thick with indignation and grief. “Wasn’t the Prince of Yan’s death orchestrated by him in the first place?”

The surrounding patrons looked on in shock. Some among them had likely heard of the Prince of Yan’s heroic deeds, and now, learning that even his family and servants had been dragged to their deaths, their hearts churned with mixed emotions.

“Exactly. The Prince was a pillar of our nation, how could he meet such an end?” someone murmured in agreement, their voice filled with regret and outrage.

“The Prince’s achievements overshadowed the Emperor’s, and he held military power. How could the current Emperor ever rest easy?” another patron pointed out.

The guest who had slammed the table continued, “If this is how he treats his most loyal subjects, the empire will surely descend into chaos!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the teahouse fell into dead silence. Everyone knew that while his words held truth, they were also dangerously treasonous.

The teahouse owner stepped in to mediate. She approached the table quietly and gently urged, “Sir, please calm down. There are many ears here, it’s best not to speak of such things. We wouldn’t want unnecessary trouble.”

Only then did the guest gradually regain his composure. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

The teacup in his hand rotated gently, steam curling upward, blurring the light in Zhou Mingxuan’s eyes. The people around him continued to laugh and chatter loudly.

He struggled to conceal his sorrow, not allowing even a hint of vulnerability to show. Taking a deep breath, he buried those complex emotions deep within his heart.

On the way back, the two of them walked in silence, Zhou Mingxuan drifting like a lost soul until they returned to Wutong Village.

The night was deep, the sound of the evening breeze and the distant barking of village dogs breaking the stillness.

Zhou Mingxuan, usually a composed and elegant man, now appeared somewhat disheveled. His steps were unsteady, his gaze unfocused, clearly drunk. Step by step, he trudged toward that familiar figure.

Li Xiang was lost in the news she had received earlier that day, unable to calm herself. She now knew the true heir was alive and had been by her side all along. The ones executed at the Meridian Gate were most likely Su Mo and Gu Ci.

Ever since Su Mo was captured, she had known this day would come. A suffocating pain surged through her, her chest weighed down as if by a boulder, making it hard to breathe.

Tears welled in her eyes but refused to fall. Her face was as pale as paper, her lips trembling as she tried to speak, but only a faint whimper escaped.

Zhou Mingxuan’s staggering steps halted a few paces away from her. He inhaled the cold night air, trying to sober himself, but the alcohol still clouded his control.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” His voice was low and hoarse, laced with accusation and pain. His gaze bore into Li Xiang, as if searching for answers in her eyes.

Li Xiang took a slight step back, her slightly reddened eyes filled with unease. “Yes,” she replied, attempting to steady her voice, though it still trembled.

Zhou Mingxuan didn’t respond, only took another step forward, his expression a storm of emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Just to coax me into healing my leg first, so we could suffer together?”

“My father is gone, the manor seized, what use is a healed leg now?” Before he could finish, his fist slammed violently against his own thigh.

Li Xiang rushed forward to shield his leg, but Zhou Mingxuan’s fist landed heavily on her face instead.

A sharp pain exploded across her cheek, the impact leaving it swollen and throbbing. She clutched her face, tears pooling in her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

She looked at Zhou Mingxuan, disappointment and heartbreak in her gaze. “You hit me,” she choked out, tears finally spilling over.

Zhou Mingxuan stared at her injured face, his head bowing sharply as his hands clenched into fists, nails digging deep into his palms.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, his voice thick with guilt and regret.

He had lost his power, his family, plunging from the heights of privilege into the abyss in a single night. Loneliness and despair cut through him like an icy wind, piercing straight to his core.

He knew he shouldn’t blame her for keeping the truth from him, but the pain inside him had nowhere else to go. Powerless, he could only resent her for making him live, live in such agony.

After that day, the two of them no longer spoke. During the day, Zhou Mingxuan continued going into town to gather news about the manor, only to return each night dead drunk.

One late night, Zhou Mingxuan staggered back, pounding heavily on the outer gate. The moonlight cast a weary and disheveled silhouette of him, his hand clutching a half-empty jar of liquor.

Just then, the neighbor’s door suddenly swung open, and Aunt Zhu poked her head out, her face etched with displeasure. Though usually warm-hearted and caring toward Li Xiang and the others, her tone was now laced with reproach.

“You foolish boy, drinking again? Look at the state you’re in, where’s the dignity of a scholar?” Aunt Zhu shook her head, her eyes brimming with disappointment.

Zhou Mingxuan glanced up at her but said nothing. He knew he was in a sorry state, but the pain and confusion inside him were too overwhelming to escape.

“Do you even know how much Xiangxiang has sacrificed for you? She loves you so much, yet you don’t cherish her. The day you drove her away, was that supposed to make you feel better?” Aunt Zhu’s voice cracked slightly, clearly distressed by his behavior.

At her words, Zhou Mingxuan’s face turned even paler. The loss of his status and family had nearly broken him. The thought of Li Xiang leaving him was unbearable.

“I… I know I was wrong,” Zhou Mingxuan finally spoke, his voice hoarse and trembling.

“If you know you were wrong, then change! Xiangxiang is a good girl, she deserves your love and care. Instead of living properly, you keep wallowing in self-pity. I really don’t know what she sees in you.” Aunt Zhu’s tone was exasperated, as if scolding an unrepentant child.

Zhou Mingxuan nodded. He had to pull himself together and win back Li Xiang’s heart. Setting down the liquor jar, he took a deep breath.

Hearing the knocking, Li Xiang got up from bed to open the door for Zhou Mingxuan. Though he still reeked of alcohol, she didn’t scold him.

After thoughtfully adjusting the water temperature for him, she was about to help him undress when he stopped her. “My legs are much better now. I can manage on my own.”

Relieved, Li Xiang didn’t insist.

She sat dazedly at the table in the room, staring at his shadow lost in thought. Suddenly, a realization struck her, and her face flushed crimson.

Back when she had helped him bathe, she hadn’t noticed the angle of the light, the folding screen had projected their shadows clearly. If that was the case, then when she bathed, Zhou Mingxuan must have seen her too.

After finishing his bath, Zhou Mingxuan poured out the water himself. When Li Xiang tried to help, he refused. She sensed a change in his attitude but couldn’t tell if it was for better or worse.

Zhou Mingxuan blew out the lamp, and the two lay side by side in bed.

He reached out and gently took Li Xiang’s hand, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Xiangxiang, you once asked me to promise that no matter what happens, I wouldn’t give up. If I make that promise now, can you promise me something in return?”

Li Xiang gazed at his refined, handsome face, as if understanding what he was about to say. “I promise to live well. You-” Before she could finish, she suddenly covered his mouth. Zhou Mingxuan looked startled.

Her eyes darkened slightly as she pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. Someone’s here.”

With that, she threw on her outer robe and slipped a hairpin into her sleeve.

Seeing her seriousness, Zhou Mingxuan listened carefully, there were faint footsteps outside the door. Immediately, he flung back the bedsheet and drew his sword.

The door hinges let out a piercing creak as two shadowy figures slipped silently into the house. Moonlight pierced through the clouds, faintly outlining their blurred yet menacing silhouettes.

A heart-stopping struggle unfolded in the dimly lit room. Tables and chairs were overturned, the sound of shattering porcelain mingling with screams.

Zhou Mingxuan had been prepared, sword in hand, standing behind the door to catch the intruders off guard. Before long, the unwelcome guests were at a disadvantage, their struggles and resistance proving feeble.

Li Xiang, hiding nearby, lit the candlestick in her hand. The flickering light revealed two kneeling criminals, a gaunt middle-aged man and a slightly plump young man.

Zhou Mingxuan bound their hands and feet, and soon the two confessed to their crimes.

It turned out they were notorious local ruffians, secretly engaging in petty theft and taking advantage of others. Passing by one day, they had been struck by Li Xiang’s beauty and conceived wicked intentions. After scouting the place several times, they discovered the household consisted only of Li Xiang and Zhou Mingxuan, and Zhou appeared to have a limp. The two conspired to strike under cover of darkness.

Little did they know the pair had been prepared, and Zhou Mingxuan was a skilled fighter who subdued them effortlessly.

Understanding the situation, Zhou Mingxuan frowned at the two in the hall. If they were ordinary criminals, reporting them to the authorities at dawn would suffice. But Zhou’s identity was special, alerting the authorities risked exposing their whereabouts, leading to uncontrollable consequences.

Zhou considered killing them to silence them. When he shared this thought with Li Xiang, she hesitated. She wasn’t a saint, but she didn’t want to kill.

The villagers were mostly simple and honest. Letting these two off lightly would only invite future harm to others.

After a long silence, Li Xiang said, “Why not confiscate their tools so they can’t harm anyone again? Killing them would mean finding a place to bury them.”

Zhou Mingxuan was slightly taken aback, then amused by her odd reasoning. A faint smile played on his lips as he replied, “You’re right.”

And so, Zhou Mingxuan castrated them and broke one of their arms before letting them go.

…

At Songshan Academy, in the Cold Autumn Courtyard.

Dawn had just broken, painting the tranquil morning sky with a faint blue-purple hue. Gu Ci and Su Mo looked at the small courtyard where they had lived for the past year, reflecting on their experiences as if it had all been a dream.

After escaping the Meridian Gate, they had reunited with the Prince of Yan, only to learn that the crown prince was missing. After settling Su Daniang, they retraced their escape route but found no trace of him.

Deep in the forest, they discovered three decomposing corpses, signs of a struggle, and torn clothing. Gu Ci dared not dwell on what horrors his beloved might have endured.

The search lasted half a year until a letter arrived from the border two days prior, urging their return. Su Daniang, traumatized by the bloodshed at the Meridian Gate and weakened by the change in environment, along with prolonged grief and anxiety, had fallen gravely ill.

Unable to bear seeing Su Daniang’s health deteriorate further, the prince wrote to persuade them to return while he sent others to search for the crown prince.

Gu Ci patted Su Mo’s shoulder, and the two mounted their steeds, riding toward the border under the morning glow.