Chapter 31

By tradition, court officials were not permitted to stay overnight in the palace.

But now that the palace gates were locked, and Liu Yuanxun was imperial kin, Hong Fu arranged a side hall near the gates for him to rest in.

Before heading to the side hall, however, they had to make a detour to the Imperial Garden.

Hong Fu needed to remain by the emperor’s side to attend him, so Xiao Luzi was assigned to Liu Yuanxun and led the way ahead with a lantern in hand.

Qin’an Hall stood at the heart of the Imperial Garden, a place where palace folk came to pay their respects and offer incense. Nearby were several shrines housing statues of various Buddhas, including the Joyful Buddha, which taught the imperial princes about the rites of human relations.

Though Liu Yuanxun had never entered Joyful Hall, he was well-versed in the classics and had some knowledge of the statue.

Legend held that Pinayeka was a savage deity who wrought havoc upon the mortal world, but their sibling Fanayeka was compassionate and merciful, often performing acts of kindness. To atone for Pinayeka’s sins of slaughter, Fanayeka had wedded them.

Once yin and yang were joined in harmony, Pinayeka ceased their killing.

The Joyful Buddha was an incarnation of Pinayeka. It typically appeared in two forms: solitary or paired. The solitary form showed Pinayeka’s true visage, while the paired form depicted nude male and female figures locked in copulation.

It was said that the Joyful Buddha taught the path of “using desire to conquer desire,” symbolized by the union of compassion and wisdom. It represented a spiritual realm that confronted desire head-on and transcended it—a branch of Buddhist teaching tied to human passions.

Thus, before entering the hall, Liu Yuanxun composed himself with solemn resolve, approaching it in the spirit of scholarly study.

What he did not know was that the Joyful Buddha enshrined in the palace had been placed there specifically to instruct imperial scions in the arts of the bedchamber. Every statue within was of the paired variety. Not only were they completely nude with varied poses, but even their coupling parts were carved in exquisite, lifelike detail.

The moment Liu Yuanxun looked up, his eyes fell upon a statue of the Vajra Form gripping the Ming Concubine’s waist, hips raised high as they straddled her midsection…

Clatter! Liu Yuanxun’s hand jerked sharply, and the lantern slipped from his grasp to crash on the floor.

He didn’t dare glance again. Head bowed in frantic embarrassment, he fumbled on the ground for the lantern. The instant his fingers closed around it, he snatched it up and stumbled toward the door, breath coming in ragged gasps as if fleeing for his life.

Gu Lianzhao and Xiao Luzi were waiting just outside. Gu Lianzhao’s sharp ears caught the sound of hurried, panicked footsteps. Alarmed, he thought something had gone wrong with Liu Yuanxun and instinctively moved toward the side hall entrance to meet him.

Xiao Luzi heard nothing and only hurried after when he saw Gu Lianzhao rushing in. By the time Xiao Luzi reached the doorway, he witnessed Gu Lianzhao’s long arm shoot out to pull Prince Rui into his embrace.

Though Prince Rui’s robes were heavy, his frame carried an uncommon lightness. The moment he was drawn into Gu Lianzhao’s arms, his garment hem fluttered upward like the wings of a butterfly poised for flight—graceful and beautiful. Xiao Luzi stared, momentarily entranced.

Gu Lianzhao had no attention to spare for such details. Startled by Liu Yuanxun, he assumed some danger lurked within. The instant he pulled the prince close, his other hand deftly struck the scabbard at his waist. Surging internal force roared forth, making the scabbard hum. With a shing!, the Embroidered Spring Knife flashed from its sheath like lightning.

Gu Lianzhao twisted his wrist, fingers clamping precisely on the hilt. The blade gleamed coldly as it whipped before him, the sharp aura radiating from his body even keener than the edge itself.

Liu Yuanxun’s mind was filled with the image he had just seen. Caught utterly off guard by such vivid erotic carvings, he felt as mortified as if he had burst into someone’s bedchamber and witnessed them in the act.

The thought that everyone in the palace might learn he had visited Joyful Hall made him wish he could burrow into Gu Lianzhao’s robes, hide himself entirely, and flee this place of embarrassment.

He couldn’t even lift his head. Gu Lianzhao stood vigilant with drawn blade, while Xiao Luzi gaped in confusion. The three of them froze in place, silent.

After a moment with no further sounds, Gu Lianzhao tilted his head slightly and murmured near Liu Yuanxun’s ear, “Your Highness, what happened?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Liu Yuanxun whispered urgently, clutching at his collar. “Let’s go. I’m tired.”

Gu Lianzhao eyed him suspiciously before glancing toward the hall’s depths. When he vaguely made out the statues inside, a wild, absurd thought crossed his mind. Though he couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t resist commenting, “Was it the Buddha statues inside that… startled you?”

“Don’t say it!” Liu Yuanxun yanked harder at his lapels, his ears burning crimson. “Let’s go. I’m tired.” The last three words carried a pleading note.

Liu Yuanxun had lived his first half-life pure and untainted as wind and moonlight, never so embarrassed. Now his ear roots flushed deep red, a faint pink tinting his cheeks—adding a touch of vitality compared to his earlier pallid sickness.

Having pieced it together, Gu Lianzhao nearly laughed. He held it back, but a smile still tugged at his lips.

In all his years, few things had stirred such innocent amusement in him. He lowered his gaze to the man in his arms, only for his eyes to linger on the earlobe peeking from beneath Liu Yuanxun’s dark hair.

Flushed with shame, that earlobe looked ready to drip blood, delicate veins faint and fragile. Gu Lianzhao’s teeth itched at the sight—he wanted to bite through it, to taste if the prince’s blood was sweet.

Only when Liu Yuanxun nearly twisted his collar askew did Gu Lianzhao reply, “In this position… how do you expect me to walk, Your Highness?”

Liu Yuanxun had no idea what position they were in. His mind was a muddled mess, his body burning up. In a rare tone of impatience, he snapped, “However you need to walk, just get us out of here fast.”

Gu Lianzhao arched a brow, subtly glancing at Xiao Luzi nearby. Then he sheathed the blade with a flick and scooped Liu Yuanxun up into a bridal carry.

The prince’s pristine white cloak arced gracefully through the air. Liu Yuanxun let out a soft exclamation and instinctively wrapped his arms around Gu Lianzhao’s neck.

When he had been ill, being carried about hadn’t fazed him. But now that he was mostly recovered—and Gu Lianzhao was a ger—this sudden suspension snapped him alert. He started to struggle down, only for Gu Lianzhao to murmur, “Don’t move, Your Highness. Xiao Luzi is watching. If you fall, Eunuch Hong won’t let me off easy.”

Hearing his name, Xiao Luzi snapped out of his daze and blurted, “No, no, this servant won’t breathe a word.”

Whether he spoke or not wasn’t up to him. If Eunuch Hong wanted to know, Xiao Luzi would eagerly rip out his own heart to show him.

But it was precisely Xiao Luzi’s words that made Liu Yuanxun realize Gu Lianzhao’s intent.

Eunuch Hong knew Liu Yuanxun wouldn’t consummate with someone he felt nothing for. If they were to put on a show, details mattered. With Xiao Luzi watching, it was as good as Eunuch Hong’s eyes upon them.

And yet… Gu Lianzhao was a ger…

No matter—he was still a patient…

But Gu Lianzhao was a ger…

No matter—for the greater good…

The two thoughts warred in Liu Yuanxun’s mind. After a few breaths, he gave up and buried his face in Gu Lianzhao’s chest, resolved to play dead all the way to the side hall.

Though the side hall lacked the comforts of the prince’s estate, it was still the palace. Even one near the gates was elegantly appointed.

Once the underfloor heating was lit, the room soon grew warm.

The eunuchs brought in basin after basin of hot water. But with Gu Lianzhao present, they dared not approach to serve closely and could only assist from afar—fetching basins, refilling hot water.

After a simple wash, the flush finally ebbed from Liu Yuanxun’s face. He exhaled slowly, regaining some composure.

Soon Xiao Luzi returned, leading maids from the Imperial Kitchen. They set out three hot dishes and six cold ones on the table—delicate, flavorful fare that honored the Late Emperor’s edict of frugality and abstinence from extravagance while upholding imperial dignity.

Ling Ting had always served the dishes at meals, so Gu Lianzhao had never done it himself but had watched plenty. Now, on his first try, his movements were deft and assured.

Liu Yuanxun sipped his tea and said, “It’s just us here. Sit down too, or the food will get cold.”

If this had been said to Ling Ting, he would have waved it off and refused. But to Gu Lianzhao, it was a command. He sat down readily.

The two sat side by side, sharing the meal in intimate companionship.

Liu Yuanxun had a small appetite. After a few bites, he set down his chopsticks and slowly poured himself tea, sipping it delicately.

While Gu Lianzhao ate, his eyes fixed solely on the food, devouring it neatly and efficiently. His handsome features made the sight pleasing to the eye—even something as mundane as eating.

Once Gu Lianzhao finished, Liu Yuanxun tilted his cup and used his chopsticks dipped in tea to sketch a simple ear shape on the table, followed by a question mark—asking if it was safe to speak here.

Gu Lianzhao shook his head slowly. Then he pinched two fingers together and pointed at the rafters.

Liu Yuanxun’s heart jolted. Someone was really up there? His face paled then flushed as he realized the emperor had sent someone to spy on him.

With no choice, he pinned his hopes on Gu Lianzhao, hoping he would catch on. Meeting Gu Lianzhao’s gaze, he blinked emphatically—but Gu Lianzhao seemed to misread it, turning his head away instead of listening.

“A’Qiao…” Liu Yuanxun had to use his name. “I have something to tell you.”

When Gu Lianzhao turned back, Liu Yuanxun continued, “I originally promised you that without true affection, I wouldn’t touch you. But the Imperial Brother said that after you and I… perform the rites of husband and wife…”

Here, the memory of the Buddha statue flashed again. Liu Yuanxun blinked rapidly, forcing it down as he struggled for calm. “The Imperial Brother said he would only relinquish power after you and I have done so. I want to ask… I want to ask if you’re willing?”

What had happened near Qin’an Hall left an indelible mark on Liu Yuanxun—and no small amusement for Gu Lianzhao.

It was the first time he had seen someone so purely innocent. After that incident, hearing these words now struck him as endearingly naive, almost laughable.

In another life, another circumstance, if some young lordling tried to seduce a ger with such lines, the ger might swoon inwardly but still kick him out of bed with a scowl.

But swap in Prince Rui—worldly-naive and purely good to the point of heart-twitching allure—and the feeling was entirely different.

Gu Lianzhao lowered his eyes with a faint smile and murmured, “The marriage is done. I’m already yours, Your Highness. If you’re willing, then so am I.”

He knew his own advantages all too well. Not yet eighteen years old, yet with just a subtle droop of his eyelids, he could reveal an innate charm. This allure intertwined and clashed with the wildness that seeped from his very bones, forming a unique magnetism that effortlessly drew others in.

Though Liu Yuanxun had no particular lust for beauty, even he couldn’t help being captivated. His gaze lingered on the young man for a moment.

Under the flickering candlelight, Gu Lianzhao’s exquisitely beautiful face shed its daytime sharpness, revealing the soft compliance and gentle grace unique to a ger. As the two sat facing each other by the candle’s glow, they truly resembled a husband and wife sharing an intimate late-night chat.

Night had fallen, so it was time for a bath.

Everything else was manageable, but having someone attend him during his bath felt far too intimate for Liu Yuanxun’s comfort. With a hidden listener spying in secret, however, he had no choice but to bring Gu Lianzhao along to the side room for bathing. There, he instructed Gu Lianzhao to turn around and face away.

Liu Yuanxun rarely bathed alone, always wary of passing out from the steam’s heat, so he washed with unusual haste. He merely splashed some water over himself before emerging from the bath barrel.

Gu Lianzhao, standing with his back turned, heard only the sound of water. He caught a glimpse of a pale, slender wrist before seeing a long towel draped over the screen being pulled away.

Once Liu Yuanxun had dressed, he spoke from behind Gu Lianzhao. “I’ll wait for you in the outer room.”

Perhaps it was the hazy veil of night that lent the atmosphere an unexpected intimacy; that single word—”wait”—carried a thread of tenderness, softening the hearts of both listener and speaker for an instant.

Gu Lianzhao murmured a soft acknowledgment. Only as the sound left his lips did he realize his voice had gone hoarse.

Though it was all just an act, they had rehearsed this performance for far too long. So long that, despite their relationship being little closer than strangers’, their bodies had already grown intimately familiar with each other.

At the very least, Gu Lianzhao was familiar with Liu Yuanxun.

He knew the slender, fragile line of his waist; the faint, elusive scent of cold plum blossoms on his skin; the chill of his body temperature and the softness of his flesh…

Through a single layer of nightclothes, he had nearly explored every inch of Liu Yuanxun.

And tonight…

Gu Lianzhao changed the water and stepped into the bath barrel. He scooped up a handful and poured it over his chest. His hand trailed slowly across the scar-riddled expanse of his torso to his right arm, pausing at the spot where his virginity mark had once been.

Something stirred restlessly in his heart, beating faster and faster, harder and harder to suppress. It felt like lust, or greed—or perhaps the urge to destroy.

His body was covered in scars, his origins lowly. He was someone who had clawed his way up from the mud. That man on the bed, though, had skin as smooth and fine as silk, a temperament as pure and lofty as the moon in the sky. He was pristine, untouched by hardship or suffering, as if born without a single flaw or regret.

Wasn’t this just like the Joyful Buddha in the hall? Only when good merged with evil could the wicked cease their wickedness.

The sudden thought was impulsive and mad. Under normal circumstances, Gu Lianzhao would never let himself dwell on it.

But things were different now.

Liu Yuanxun wouldn’t live much longer. He was going to die.

What harm was there in touching such a man—just once? In tempting him—just once? A person on the verge of death, a man with no future… what could it hurt?

Perhaps brushing against a bit of his purity might cleanse the bloodstains from his own body, earning him some good fortune in his next life.

After all, Liu Yuanxun understood nothing. Tricking him, coaxing him—it would be child’s play.

The more he thought, the more restless his heart grew.

Gu Lianzhao drew a deep breath and submerged himself entirely in the bath barrel. He held on until he was nearly suffocating before bursting back to the surface. He snatched up his robe, wrapped it around his body, and strode out of the side room.