The Whole Family is Reborn, But I Transmigrated into a Book - Chapter 58

“Since you enjoy the scenery here, why don’t we take a walk? There is little point in heading back just to deal with those people anyway,” Gu Qingzhao said. He had always loathed those hollow social obligations.

“Then I shall trouble Your Highness the Fourth Prince to accompany me in admiring the view,” Shen Xizhi replied. Even though the Prince before her had a mild temperament, she remained mindful of her etiquette, being within the palace walls.

Gu Qingzhao cared little for how she addressed him; he simply didn’t want her to run into trouble over a slip of the tongue. “It is no trouble at all. Let us go,” he said with a smile, genuinely happy to have a moment alone with her. He had been fretting over how to see her again, only for her to appear right before his eyes. It must be fate, he thought, his mood lifting.

“White snow and red plum blossoms—such a breathtaking sight can likely only be found within the palace,” Shen Xizhi murmured. She rarely ventured out to admire the snow, especially in recent years as her health declined. In the dead of winter, she was usually confined indoors. She knew she might leave this world early. What is the point of a broken body like mine remaining in this world?

“It is indeed lovely,” Gu Qingzhao replied, walking beside her. “I left the palace as a youth and haven’t visited much since. This is the first time I’ve truly settled my mind to appreciate the snow like this.”

Shen Xizhi hadn’t expected him to share such personal thoughts. She dared not speak out of turn in the palace, so she answered cautiously. “Your Highness prayed for the people’s well-being; I am certain His Majesty is proud of you. It is only by the Emperor’s grace that I have the honor of admiring the snow with you today.”

She was a clever woman who knew how to speak without leaving an opening for criticism. Even if someone were eavesdropping, her words would cause no trouble.

“Miss Shen, this is our third meeting. There is no need for such formality,” Gu Qingzhao said, making no effort to hide his admiration. “Back on the mountain, I already felt you were a woman of extraordinary character.”

However, Shen Xizhi did not want his admiration. To an ambitious woman, a Prince’s favor would be a ladder to power. But Shen Xizhi only wanted to live one day at a time until her end came peacefully. She wanted no entanglement with the royal family. Though Gu Qingzhao’s gaze was clear and devoid of malice, she remained on guard.

“I thank Your Highness, but I am merely an ordinary person. I am unworthy of such concern,” she stated, making her stance clear.

Gu Qingzhao, though sheltered, was not dense. He understood her subtle rejection—she was closing the door on both friendship and anything more. He pressed his lips together; this was not the answer he wanted.

Shen Xizhi did not intend to linger. She pulled her cotton cloak tighter and bid him farewell. “The plum blossoms are at their peak, but my health does not permit me to stay out for long. I can only accompany Your Highness this far. I shall take my leave.”

Her words were veiled, but the meaning was clear. Gu Qingzhao did not stop her. He knew he couldn’t keep her there. Standing alone under the red plums, he watched her silhouette fade into the white distance, lost in thought.

“Fourth Brother! What are you staring at? It’s getting freezing out here; I’m nearly a block of ice!”

The Seventh Prince appeared behind him. Gu Qingzhao retracted his gaze and turned. “You have a weak constitution; why are you out here alone without an attendant?”

“I just wanted some air. Those servants are so naggy, it drives me mad,” Old Seven grumbled. “But why are you here, Fourth Brother? You used to hate these gatherings. Every year, you’d vanish the moment Father left.” He sighed. “This year you stayed, but Fifth Brother and his wife slipped away early.”

Because Gu Qingjia and Liu Qingyue had left, the Seventh Prince had found the party dull and decided to wander, eventually stumbling upon Gu Qingzhao.

“You are being reckless,” Gu Qingzhao scolded. “You’ve only just recovered. Come back inside and get warm before you catch a chill.” Old Seven didn’t argue and followed him back. With Fourth Brother around, he wouldn’t be bored. Little did Gu Qingzhao know that Old Seven had become quite the chatterbox—his constant talking was enough to make anyone’s head spin. No wonder the Fifth Prince had made a run for it.

Meanwhile, Gu Qingjia and Liu Qingyue were already on their way home. Liu Qingyue leaned against him, sighing softly. “I prefer being at home. Socializing is exhausting—you never know what people are really thinking or what their subtext is. One wrong word and you’re in trouble.”

Having grown up in a hospital in her past life, she had always been isolated. “If you don’t like it, we shall attend fewer of these banquets in the future,” Gu Qingjia whispered, stroking her hair.

“How can we avoid them entirely? I’ll just have to adapt,” she said optimistically. She leaned closer to his ear. “I finally understand now. Despite the silk robes and fine food, our lives sometimes aren’t as free as those of a common wealthy family.”

“As long as you know,” Gu Qingjia replied. “We aren’t home yet; watch your words.”

Liu Qingyue immediately covered her mouth with both hands, leaving only her large, bright eyes visible. “I won’t say another word.”

“Why so timid now? I recall you being quite the bold speaker before,” he teased.

Liu Qingyue felt a pang of guilt. When she first arrived in this world, she thought her knowledge of the “plot” made her invincible. In reality, she had been a lamb among wolves. If she hadn’t met Gu Qingjia, her “grave grass would be three feet high” by now. “Don’t bring that up. I was naive then; I know better now.”

“I thought you were quite cute like that,” Gu Qingjia coaxed. “Just tell those things to me, and not to others.”

As they spoke, the carriage slowed. “Master, there are assassins,” Yue Qing whispered from outside.

Gu Qingjia’s eyes sharpened. “Identify the source if possible. Try to leave a survivor.”

This wasn’t his first assassination attempt. He suspected the same person who had targeted the Third and Fourth Princes was behind this. Only Old Six and Old Seven had remained untouched. While Old Seven had become more cheerful lately, Old Six remained as snide and ambitious as ever. Though he had no proof, Gu Qingjia had his suspicions.

“No matter what happens, protect yourself first,” Gu Qingjia told his wife. “I have martial arts training; they cannot easily hurt me, but they can hurt you.”

The assassins struck quickly. Gu Qingjia gripped his sword but didn’t exit the carriage yet, trusting Yue Qing and his men. His guards were veterans of countless battles and were not easily overwhelmed by this “disorganized mob.” Most of the attackers were killed, but one was taken alive.

“Master, the threat is neutralized. We have one prisoner,” Yue Qing reported. He suspected the enemy was trying to wear them down with repeated skirmishes.

“We talk once we are back,” Gu Qingjia ordered. He wouldn’t feel safe until they were inside the manor.

Once home, Liu Qingyue changed into comfortable clothes while Shuang Hua, now her personal maid, prepared snacks.

“Your Highness must not have eaten much at the palace,” Shuang Hua said. Though she was a top-tier secret guard, she was incredibly attentive.

“Shuang Hua, you are a lifesaver! I would have gone to bed hungry without you,” Liu Qingyue cheered.

Gu Qingjia watched Shuang Hua for a moment. “Are you unhappy serving the Princess? You are among the best of the secret guards, but I hope you can lead a more normal life.”

“Master, I am not unhappy,” Shuang Hua replied firmly. “You saved my life. To protect the one you cherish is where my purpose lies.”

Gu Qingjia sighed; their loyalty was unshakable. He headed to his study while Liu Qingyue enjoyed her snacks, finally feeling the peace of home.

However, peace was not universal. Across the city, the Third Prince, Gu Qingyi, was relentlessly pestering Wei Shangzi.

“A-Zi, those other women were just ‘acting.’ My heart is only yours,” he insisted. “I thought you cared for me too, and that our story would be a romantic legend, not a scandal.”

Wei Shangzi shook her head. “Your Highness, we are not a match. I cannot accept sharing a husband with other women.”

“If you don’t want me to, then I simply won’t marry anyone else,” he argued, not seeing the issue.

But Wei Shangzi didn’t believe him. The gap between them wasn’t just about other women—it was the insurmountable wall of their status and their differing worlds.