The Salted Fish’s Political Marriage - Chapter 3

The warm air inside the embroidered canopy made for a balmy spring night.

Mu Yanzhou raised his hand, reaching toward the phoenix hairpin in Song Mingzhi’s hair.

Song Mingzhi’s gaze sharpened instantly. The instincts of a secret guard drove him to use his finger as a blade, striking the other man’s hand with a crisp smack.

The phoenix hairpin fell to the ground with a soft chime, and Song Mingzhi’s light gold hair cascaded over the edge of the couch like a waterfall.

Mu Yanzhou: “Hiss.”

The world fell suddenly silent.

Song Mingzhi: “!!!”

Secret guards are forbidden from offending the royal family. Song Mingzhi had never imagined that one day he would commit such a grave, principled error.

As he thought about how he had struck the future Son of Heaven, he felt his soul wither. He had already begun mentally planning his own burial site.

With no time to overthink, Song Mingzhi hurriedly rose to apologize to the Prince of Qi.

However, before he could even bow, a sound reached his ears. Was that admiration?

“The folk customs of the Western Regions are truly fierce.”

You have to be kidding me.

Song Mingzhi, currently offering a humble apology, asked, “?”

An ominous premonition suddenly welled up in his heart.

Song Mingzhi lifted his gaze inch by inch.

This entire evening, the Prince of Qi’s eyes had been clear and his complexion normal. He showed no signs of discomfort, looking nothing like a man who had just recovered from a major illness.

Could the original owner’s words have been true?

The mistake had already been made, and if Song Mingzhi was going to die, he wanted to die knowing the truth. He took a deep breath, steeling his heart, and abandoned all caution. “Your Highness’s body,” he began.

Song Mingzhi had originally intended to probe indirectly.

He never expected that Mu Yanzhou would have no reservations at all.

Mu Yanzhou casually picked up a pillow, leaned back against the couch, and said offhandedly, “I was just faking illness. It is nothing.”

Song Mingzhi murmured, “Faking illness.”

Without realizing it, he gripped the bead curtain in front of the couch so hard that it snapped.

Mu Yanzhou sat up straight and remained silent.

Song Mingzhi lowered his eyelids gently.

As things stood, although the Great Chu Dynasty was deeply plagued by corruption, it still maintained a veneer of peace.

Logically speaking, the Prince of Qi should have gone to Pingzhou to take up the post of Governor, but he had failed to do so due to illness. This delay meant he would not gain a new opportunity until three years later, by which time he would finally hold real power and enter the political arena. Yet, by then, the world would already be in turmoil, leaving nothing but a chaotic mess.

It was widely recognized by later generations that had His Highness been in the court during those three years, the situation would certainly have been different.

Song Mingzhi had originally assumed that life, aging, sickness, and death were all a matter of fate. But he never dreamed that this illness had been faked.

Under the mandarin duck quilt, jade beads rolled across the floor.

The clatter shattered the silence of the room.

Song Mingzhi slowly gritted his teeth, clenching his fists.

The Prince of Qi would never fake an illness without reason; there must be a method to his madness.

Since the topic was already out in the open, Song Mingzhi decided to get to the bottom of it. “Why did Your Highness choose to fake an illness?”

Mu Yanzhou blinked. “Pingzhou is far away over mountains and rivers; the journey alone would take months of travel. Besides,” he sat up, picked up a wine cup, and added as if it were obvious, “how could such a desolate place compare to the prosperity of the capital?”

Song Mingzhi refused to believe this.

He stepped forward, pressing Mu Yanzhou. “Your Highness is a Prince of the Blood; you cannot keep faking illness forever. What plans do you have for the future?”

Mu Yanzhou pondered for a moment and replied earnestly, “As for the future, just holding some empty title and being an idle prince seems fine to me.”

Song Mingzhi asked, “Huh?”

If His Highness becomes an idle prince, what will become of the empire?

In the hundred years before the founding of the Chu Dynasty, the political power of the world changed seven times. Without the Prince of Qi, Great Chu would inevitably follow in their footsteps, becoming yet another short-lived dynasty in history.

When the nest is overturned, how can the eggs remain intact?

In times of chaos, the fires of war would rage.

Forget being some wealthy idler; when that time came, there would be nowhere even to flee.

The effects of the aphrodisiac grew stronger.

Under the weight of one blow after another, Song Mingzhi threw history to the back of his mind and asked purely out of instinct. “Aside from that, does Your Highness have no other plans?”

Mu Yanzhou slowly frowned, lost in thought.

A few breaths later, he suddenly drew out his tone, pretending to be serious as he replied, “Oh, there is one more thing.”

There is?

Song Mingzhi’s eyes instantly brightened.

I knew it. The Prince of Qi’s ambition surely goes beyond this.

Mu Yanzhou cleared his throat and said solemnly, “Aside from that, there is also spending the rest of my life with my beloved consort.”

Song Mingzhi asked, “What?”

Song Mingzhi stumbled and sat down at the table.

Dizzy and lightheaded, his world had finally, completely collapsed.

In the middle of the night, the dew was heavy.

Song Mingzhi sat alone at the table, silent and motionless.

Mu Yanzhou did not disturb him further, turning instead to call out toward the door, “Someone, come clean the inner chamber.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The night wind blew into the room, dispersing the lingering atmosphere of passion.

The attendants bowed and entered the bridal chamber, sweeping up the fallen beads from the floor.

Song Mingzhi bit his lower lip and slowly closed his eyes.

The Prince of Qi was the only son of the late Empress Xianping. Although the old Emperor was a notorious tyrant who indulged in wine and women and ignored state affairs, he had always cared deeply for the son of his late wife.

This was a fact known to all in later generations.

Unlike the emperors of previous generations who relied on palace coups to seize the throne, the Prince of Qi’s path, from being named Crown Prince to ascending the throne, had been legitimate and unobstructed. He was not only deeply trusted by the Emperor but also highly supported by the court officials.

Song Mingzhi could find no reason why he would need to hide his light under a bushel.

Reborn into this life, what exactly had gone wrong?

Wait. Reborn into this life?

Song Mingzhi suddenly opened his eyes and muttered, “I understand now.”

Nothing in this world is unique.

Since I could be reborn and inexplicably return to a hundred years ago, could it be that some other wandering soul has taken over the body of the Prince of Qi?

Song Mingzhi stood up abruptly and looked at the desk.

Aside from the tea set, there was also a set of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

The attendants in the room could not help but peek over.

Mu Yanzhou also leaned in curiously. “What are you doing?”

Song Mingzhi stood by the table.

He spread out a sheet of paper, shoved the brush into Mu Yanzhou’s hand, and said coldly, “Write.”

In his previous life, Song Mingzhi had seen the Prince of Qi’s handwriting in the palace.

As long as the person in front of him wrote, he could distinguish whether he was dealing with a human or a ghost.

“I can write, sure,” Mu Yanzhou said, appearing confused but still cooperating. “What should I write?”

The scene before Song Mingzhi was swaying and blurring.

He used his finger to trace on the desk: “My Central Plains name, Song Mingzhi.”

When Song Mingzhi was seven, there was great chaos in Chongjing.

Having become an orphan and living on the streets, he was only given this name after being brought into the secret guard camp. The two characters “Mingzhi” were taken by the then-commander of the secret guards from a plaque inscribed by Mu Yanzhou for a bookstore.

Song Mingzhi would absolutely not misidentify that handwriting.

Before the mandarin duck curtain, the candle shadows flickered red.

The lamplight shimmered, illuminating the wine in the cup and the Double Happiness character on the window.

In a state between dream and wakefulness, Song Mingzhi leaned in close and watched as Mu Yanzhou lifted the brush and applied ink. In an instant, three large characters appeared on the paper.

They were elegant, like silkworm heads and swallow tails, graceful and fluid.

It was exactly the same as the one in that bookstore.

Mu Yanzhou set down the brush and asked with satisfaction, “How is that, my beloved consort?”

Song Mingzhi remained silent.

This was more agonizing than being killed.

With a heart turned to ash, he said, “I need to be alone for a while.”

Drowsiness surged over him like a tide, and Song Mingzhi closed his eyes heavily. He vaguely saw the attendants finish cleaning up the beads and leave the bridal chamber along with the Prince of Qi.

The Prince’s mansion was full of eyes and ears. Tonight’s events, he imagined, would soon spread throughout the city of Chongjing and reach the ears of the Emperor himself.

In his clouded mind, Song Mingzhi had only one thought:

His words and actions had severely offended royal dignity; he would surely be punished harshly.

On the path to the afterlife, Lord Du perhaps would not be lonely after all.

One stick of incense later.

Prince of Qi’s mansion, Hui Ming Hall.

Mu Yanzhou leaned back on the couch, idly playing with an incense burner.

An attendant held his breath, kneeling before the couch. “Your Highness, what should be done with Young Master Zhi?”

The team escorting the young master to the capital had already sent a secret letter stating that he had been determined to escape the marriage. He had prepared sleeping incense, planning to flee after arriving at the relay station and the officials withdrew. His Highness had also intended to go with the flow and let him leave Chongjing, or perhaps keep him in the back residence as a display piece, the two of them living separate, peaceful lives.

But today, not only did the young master not escape, his words and actions were laced with strangeness.

His dialogue suggested he knew something, and it even more pointedly seemed like he was probing the relationship between His Highness and Lord Du, and whether he was truly the lecherous, gay man rumors described.

No matter how you looked at it, it seemed like someone had bought him off after he arrived in Chongjing and placed him by His Highness’s side as a spy.

It was just that his speech was a bit too blunt, as if he had the word “spy” written on his face.

The attendant did not know what His Highness intended to do.

Thinking of this, the attendant could not help but look up and ask, “Shall we kill him, or do something else?”

Mu Yanzhou slowly set down the incense burner.

After a moment, he nonchalantly picked up a silk handkerchief to wipe his fingertips.

With a smile, he drawled lazily, “Keep him for now.”

Keep him?

The attendant could not help but shudder.

He paused, instantly realizing that if you kill one such spy, another one will simply be sent. Rather than risking the consequences of killing him, it is better to keep this one, who cannot hide his own thoughts, by His Highness’s side.

If he wants to probe, let him. We shall simply put on a show for him.

“As you command, Your Highness.”

Mu Yanzhou rose and headed into the depths of Hui Ming Hall.

The attendant was about to withdraw when he saw him pause, saying lazily, “Tomorrow morning, have the Zhuohua Courtyard cleaned up for the Consort to reside in. Also, send some gold and jade to his courtyard.”

The Prince of Qi’s mansion was built in the previous dynasty and had been occupied by several princes.

And the Zhuohua Courtyard, built by the water in the center of the back residence, was the very place built by the mansion’s first owner specifically for his favorite concubine.

His Highness the Prince meant…

Mu Yanzhou narrowed his eyes slightly.

Finally, he playfully rubbed his finger against the Double Happiness character on the window.

He whispered, “Song Mingzhi.”

A moment later, his eyes were suddenly filled with laughter. “To the outside world, just say that I fell for him at first sight, and I just happen to like that kind of personality.”

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