After their conversation ended, Liu Yuanxun prepared to leave.
He had arrived with company, but the person who had accompanied him now followed his instructions and was escorting Xiao Jinye deeper into the prison.
Liu Yuanxun had intended to wait a little longer, but he had lingered too much. The cloth over his nose and mouth was thoroughly soaked with the stench of blood. Every breath filled his nostrils with a smell that made his head throb.
He rose to his feet and gazed back along the path he had taken. The candles lining both sides had burned nearly to their bases, yet they still cast a faint glow. Since he had traversed the route once already, retracing his steps would be no great difficulty.
He set off along the same narrow path. The proximity to the light sources on either side meant that even a single wick could stretch a man’s shadow into a monstrous form. Several such shadows formed an octagonal cage around him, and with the occasional low, guttural groans drifting from the depths of the Imperial Prison, this dim illumination proved more chilling than utter darkness.
He walked briskly, but the candles burned even faster. Whoever had lit them must have started from the exit and worked inward, for those around the Interrogation Room still flickered, while the ones nearer the door had gone out.
Liu Yuanxun feared blood, but he feared the dark even more. Seeing the stretch of path ahead swallowed by blackness, he turned on his heel and doubled back.
This glance over his shoulder nearly scared the soul from his body.
A tall, slender figure trailed him, no more than two paces distant. The feeble candlelight sketched a hazy outline of the man’s features. Liu Yuanxun’s heart pounded wildly. It took him a long moment to steady himself before he rasped out, “So it’s you, A’Qiao.”
Gu Lianzhao said nothing, simply standing there in silence. Liu Yuanxun often read by lamplight, and over time, his eyesight had deteriorated, especially in low light where faces blurred together.
He could not make out Gu Lianzhao’s expression. Besides, having made his decision, he knew he should not treat the man as he once had. Yet forward lay darkness, and behind stood Gu Lianzhao blocking the way. For a moment, he was at a loss.
He had no time to hesitate. The candles here burned quickly and were already nearly spent. While he stood frozen, the shadows crept steadily toward him.
Liu Yuanxun wasted no more time and advanced toward Gu Lianzhao. The passage was so narrow it allowed only one person at a time. To pass, Gu Lianzhao would have to step aside.
Standing before him, Liu Yuanxun murmured, “A’Qiao, let me through.”
Gu Lianzhao did not budge, like a boulder deliberately placed to bar the path and seal off Liu Yuanxun’s retreat.
Liu Yuanxun glanced at the candle beside him. Seeing the flame flicker toward extinction, he could hold back no longer. He reached out to shove Gu Lianzhao’s chest, attempting to force him aside. But he lacked the strength, and Gu Lianzhao was immovable. Forget pushing Gu Lianzhao—even the dog Gu Lianzhao kept would prove too sturdy for him.
Unable to push past, he was stuck.
In the past, given their relationship, he would have shot the man a glare and grumbled a bit. But that inexplicable misunderstanding left him unable to act as he once would.
Gu Lianzhao stood squarely in the middle, leaving narrow gaps on either side, about a handspan wide. Liu Yuanxun thought that with some effort, he might squeeze through one.
The maneuver would be undignified and awkward. Fortunately, Gu Lianzhao yielded half a step, allowing him to slip past.
Liu Yuanxun let out a breath of relief. Without looking back, he hurried toward the Interrogation Room, making use of the last faint light.
Silence reigned behind him. It seemed Gu Lianzhao had not followed. Yet recalling how the man had trailed him unnoticed earlier, Liu Yuanxun could not be sure.
The return proved smooth. Upon reaching the Interrogation Room, the Embroidered Uniform Guard who had escorted him in reappeared.
Liu Yuanxun relaxed. Before he could speak, the guard saluted him, then saluted the figure behind him—and bolted without a word.
Liu Yuanxun stood rooted to the spot, refusing to turn for a long while.
Behind him, Gu Lianzhao merely stood in silence, having uttered not a word since their encounter.
Gu Lianzhao gazed at that slender back, his emotions too tangled to name.
From the moment he had stood before Xiao Jinye’s cell, he had wavered: whether to see Liu Yuanxun at all.
Rather than probe whether he truly wished to see the man, he sought a reason detached from mere feeling—one practical enough to justify a decision.
Yet even when Liu Yuanxun arrived at the Embroidered Uniform Guard Commandant Office, he had found no such rationale.
The Interrogation Room led in two directions: one to the exit, the other to the Imperial Prison.
He had positioned himself at the prison end, back against the gate, listening quietly to Liu Yuanxun’s voice. It sounded just as it always had—gentle and even, like clear spring water flowing in the warmth of early summer.
When their talk concluded and the gate swung open, he who had lurked in the shadows beheld Liu Yuanxun once more.
Liu Yuanxun wore a pale cloud-white robe beneath a cloak of muted reed-gray. Perhaps rushing straight from the Taichang Temple, his long hair was neatly bound in a jade coronet, lending his refined demeanor an air of unapproachable nobility.
The instant he laid eyes on Liu Yuanxun, every emotion and thought faded away. His vision, his heart—they held room for this man alone.
Liu Yuanxun departed. Gu Lianzhao had no wish to follow, yet his legs moved of their own accord, trailing silently in his wake.
His steps were light and soundless, but inside, his feelings roiled. Longing, grievance, pain, anger… They swirled together, each seizing dominance only to yield to the thickest, heaviest of all.
Longing.
He missed him.
When apart, he could bury the ache in some hidden corner of himself. But the moment they met, it burst forth like floodwaters from a broken dam, overwhelming him in an instant.
These days of separation had left no mark on Liu Yuanxun. In those eyes, upon sighting him, there was only startled alarm—nothing more.
From that first glimpse, time grew hazy, his mind sluggish. He scarcely registered Liu Yuanxun’s words or actions as the man drew near. Instinctively, he yielded to the pressure and stepped aside.
Then, soft-footed, he followed Liu Yuanxun back to the Interrogation Room.
Now Liu Yuanxun stood before him, back turned, just one step away—yet that step remained uncrossed.
The cold, murderous glint in Liu Yuanxun’s eyes jolted him alert, sending him stumbling back a pace in near-panic. Suddenly, he dreaded the man turning to face him, dreaded seeing that gaze again.
Silence stretched between them until Liu Yuanxun, unable to bear the reek of blood any longer, moved first.
He lifted a candlestick from the wall, cradling it in one hand while sheltering the flame with the other, brushing past Gu Lianzhao.
In the next breath, a hand gently caught his sleeve. The grip was feather-light; the slightest pull would shake it free.
It was Gu Lianzhao.
Liu Yuanxun felt a pang of pity.
Yet he never indulged softness where it did not belong. To yield now would only drag Gu Lianzhao into deeper peril, offering no true benefit.
His steps faltered for an instant, just as Gu Lianzhao seemed poised to speak—then he strode away without mercy.
The smooth silk slipped from Gu Lianzhao’s fingertips like water one could not grasp. He stood frozen, staring at Liu Yuanxun’s retreating form. Only after a long while, as if burned, did he jerk back his hand, still hanging rigid in the air.
…
Liu Xun had heard of Liu Yuanxun’s arrival and waited outside the Imperial Prison.
Seeing him emerge alone, Liu Xun glanced at the empty space behind before cupping his hands in salute. “Greetings, Your Highness Prince Rui.”
Liu Yuanxun returned the gesture. “Lord Liu.”
“Have you met with Xiao Jinye already?” When Liu Yuanxun nodded, Liu Xun continued, “Are you heading back to the estate now?”
“There are still matters to attend at the Taichang Temple; I won’t return just yet. What did you wish to say, Lord Liu?”
Liu Xun hesitated. “I do have words for Your Highness, but this is your household affair. I’m afraid you might think me…”
“Since it’s my household affair, there’s no need for Lord Liu to involve yourself.” Liu Yuanxun cut him off with a faint smile. “A’Qiao is my Attendant Consort—that won’t change. His presence here represents my own dignity, and that too remains unaltered. Knowing these two facts suffices.”
“That wasn’t what I meant to say.” Following Hong Fu’s advice, Liu Xun lowered his voice. “Gu Jiu has been lying in the barracks for three days. He finally ate something, only to vomit it all up. The Embroidered Uniform Guard has plenty of medicines for wounds, but none versed in treating chills and fever. Moreover, there’s no brazier in the barracks. With the biting cold, and him being from the prince’s estate, I’m worried he might take a turn for the worse.”
The moment Liu Yuanxun heard that Gu Lianzhao was ill, his feet refused to move.
He frowned. “Why not summon a physician?”
Liu Xun chuckled. “Does Your Highness not know Gu Jiu’s temperament? He refuses to see one. Even if we tied him and dragged him to an apothecary, it would do no good.”
Liu Yuanxun recalled Gu Lianzhao’s appearance just moments ago, which seemed little changed from his days at the estate. Yet he knew Liu Xun would not lie to his face, so the illness must be real.
With a sigh, Liu Yuanxun said, “If he refuses a physician, it means he can endure it himself. The estate has no suitable doctor either—bringing him back would serve no purpose.”
“Lord Liu.” Liu Yuanxun pressed down on his arm. “You needn’t see me out; my estate’s people are waiting ahead.”
Liu Xun had not expected such a response and stood speechless, watching Liu Yuanxun exit the Commandery Office gates.
Liu Yuanxun had indeed wavered.
But on second thought, a heartbroken soul must weather a stretch of hardship. To soften now would only prolong the suffering without benefit.
A man like Gu Lianzhao would not let a mere illness claim him over some fleeting displeasure.
With that, his last qualms vanished. He did not lift the carriage curtain for a final glance but went straight back to the Taichang Temple.
…
Liu Yuanxun had visited the Imperial Prison on the twenty-third of the twelfth month; his birthday fell on the twenty-fifth.
The day before, Hong Fu arrived bearing a robe tailored in the palace, casually inquiring, “Where is the Attendant Consort?”
Hong Fu commanded the Embroidered Uniform Guard—how could he not know Gu Lianzhao’s whereabouts? Without raising his head, Liu Yuanxun replied flatly, “The prison demands much of him; he’s not at the estate.”
Hong Fu grinned ingratiatingly and sidled closer to knead his legs. “Little Master, have you forgotten the palace customs?”
Liu Yuanxun finally looked up. “What customs?”
“You’ve really forgotten?” Hong Fu feigned surprise. “If you weren’t married yet, that would be one thing. But once you’re wed, whenever you enter the palace, you’ll have to bring Lord Gu along, right?”
Liu Yuanxun was aware of this custom. “Don’t you only need to bring your principal wife?”
While crouching low to knead his legs, Hong Fu replied, “That’s the rule in principle, but you don’t have a principal wife yet. Besides, this marriage was personally decreed by His Majesty. If you enter the palace without Lord Gu, others might think you object to the Emperor’s arrangement.”
This wasn’t something Hong Fu had invented; the palace truly had such a custom.
Liu Yuanxun hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Fair enough. But aside from that, I have something else to say to you.”
Hong Fu hurriedly responded, “Please, go ahead.”
Liu Yuanxun set aside the book in his hand and personally helped Hong Fu to his feet. Gazing seriously at the eunuch’s flattered face, he said, “Gu Lianzhao has lost more than enough since getting dragged into all this. He’s finally back on track—don’t interfere with him anymore.”
The intensity in Liu Yuanxun’s eyes gave Hong Fu pause. It took him a long while to muster a response. “You… have you developed feelings for him?”
Feelings? What kind of feelings?
Liu Yuanxun blinked in momentary confusion before grasping Hong Fu’s implication. He started to deny it but then reconsidered: with this connection in place, Hong Fu might treat Gu Lianzhao better out of consideration for his own sake. So he let it stand. “Isn’t this precisely what Imperial Brother and you wanted to see?”
Before Hong Fu could reply, he pressed on. “Eunuch Hong, I seldom ask anything of you. But whatever you and Imperial Brother have planned, please stop involving Gu Lianzhao. He’s suffered enough already.”
