Now that the words had been laid bare, many matters could be discussed openly. Lunch arrived just in time, so Liu Yuanxun planned to eat while they talked.
But Gu Lianzhao stood rigidly to one side, making no move to sit. Liu Yuanxun glanced up at him. “Sit down. Since you’ve decided to tell me the truth, let’s talk it over properly.”
Gu Lianzhao had no desire to sit.
Though the matter had resolved as smoothly as he’d anticipated, something still hung heavy in his heart.
He had heard all sorts of threats before, every one far more menacing than Liu Yuanxun’s airy “Don’t lie to me.”
Yet those simple four words had pricked his heart like a thorn from the moment he’d heard them, leaving him restless and irritated.
He even found himself wishing Liu Yuanxun would thunder with rage and storm off. Such blunt fury would have been far easier to bear than this gentle indulgence.
But sit he must.
Not only that, but he had to do so properly, with the humble air of someone admitting fault.
Gu Lianzhao nursed a bellyful of frustration while wearing a subdued, guilty expression. He picked up the silver chopsticks. “Your Highness, let me serve you your meal first.”
In the beginning, Gu Lianzhao would wolf down his own food and leave. Later, after a scolding from Eunuch Hong, he’d learned to wait until Liu Yuanxun finished before departing. Now, offering to serve him personally—this was a first.
Liu Yuanxun caught his wrist. “A’Qiao, there’s no need for that. This isn’t solely your fault. From your perspective, a bit of caution made perfect sense. Sit. I’ll eat on my own.”
With him saying as much, Gu Lianzhao could hardly refuse. He slowly sat, guided by Liu Yuanxun’s gentle pressure.
Liu Yuanxun had planned to chat over the meal, but broaching such weighty topics would surely spoil his appetite. He said nothing more and quietly tucked into his food.
Seeing this, Gu Lianzhao picked up his chopsticks as well.
He had endured two great calamities as a child. The first was a plague so dire it ended with the city being burned to the ground. The second came during their flight north amid the refugee chaos—a brutal famine.
Those disasters had taught him the bitter taste of true hunger. From then on, no matter how dire the situation, he always filled his belly first. If he stayed alive, he’d have the strength to act. If he died, at least he wouldn’t go as a starving ghost.
And so the earlier events hadn’t touched his appetite at all. He ate with his usual speed and thoroughness. By the time Liu Yuanxun set down his chopsticks, more than half the dishes on the table had been cleared.
Liu Yuanxun placed his chopsticks aside and poured himself a cup of tea. His gaze lingered on the rim of the blue-and-white porcelain cup, his voice steady. “A’Qiao, I have just one question for you.”
Gu Lianzhao looked up. “Please, speak.”
“If your Pure Yang Internal Energy can truly restore my health, what role do you intend to take from here on?”
Gu Lianzhao had mulled this question countless times in his mind. He didn’t have a perfect answer, but he had a rough idea.
Physician Wang claimed that consummation was useless, while a Pure Yang Physique held value. Eunuch Hong, on the other hand, insisted that consummation was not only effective but required repetition. Clearly, the two men weren’t talking about the same thing at all, which meant Liu Yuanxun’s illness was far more complicated than Physician Wang believed.
In that case, even if Pure Yang True Qi offered some benefit, it wouldn’t save Liu Yuanxun’s life. If he was doomed to an early grave anyway, the question was little more than empty words.
He already had his answer in his heart. Yet when Liu Yuanxun posed the question aloud, Gu Lianzhao faltered for a moment. A bewildering doubt welled up from deep within: If he truly could save Liu Yuanxun, should he? And after saving him, did he really want to keep serving as a male concubine in his household?
Liu Yuanxun noticed the rare flicker of uncertainty on his face and assumed he had never given the matter a thought. His heart softened. Gu Lianzhao hadn’t even considered his own future, putting all his effort into tending Liu Yuanxun’s health instead.
A moment later, after a long silence, Gu Lianzhao lowered his eyes gently. In a tone laced with his own uncertainty, he asked, “Your Highness once said I should treat the prince’s mansion as my own home. Does that still stand?”
Liu Yuanxun had spoken those words knowing his days were numbered. Whether Gu Lianzhao served as a concubine or a guard made little difference.
But this question clearly probed deeper: If Liu Yuanxun somehow survived, what position would Gu Lianzhao hold in the mansion going forward?
Continuing as a concubine in name only wasn’t fair to him.
Making it official, though—that was something Liu Yuanxun himself couldn’t stomach. He regarded Gu Lianzhao like a flower overgrown with thorns: something he admired and favored, nurturing it carefully to help it flourish, but never once entertaining thoughts of intimacy.
Yet letting him linger in the mansion without title or status? As a lone ger from outside the family, how could he possibly remain untouched and pure?
Liu Yuanxun had hoped to draw out Gu Lianzhao’s true feelings, but having the question turned back on him made him realize the answer lay in his own hands.
The crux wasn’t Gu Lianzhao’s attitude toward him. No matter what answer Gu Lianzhao gave, Liu Yuanxun could offer nothing beyond cold utility.
He could never formalize their bond, never grant a status with real meaning. Had he been an ordinary man with years ahead, he would have found a way to send Gu Lianzhao off cleanly and honorably.
Besides, Pure Yang Internal Energy could only regulate his qi and blood. The true killer lurking in his body was the Gu Poison. Even with Gu Lianzhao’s Pure Yang Internal Energy, he wouldn’t last past the coming winter.
The matter of the Gu Poison touched on his Consort Mother’s reputation—a secret he would carry to his grave. He could never reveal it to anyone, not even Gu Lianzhao.
In posing the question, he had trapped himself.
The leftovers on the table had gone cold, and the steamed perch began to give off a faint fishy odor.
Seeing Liu Yuanxun fall silent, Gu Lianzhao understood. He gave a silent, scornful laugh in his heart, despising his own moment of weakness while inwardly relieved he hadn’t let that gentleness sway him.
Had he thrown himself headlong into Liu Yuanxun’s tender web and blurted, “If Your Highness recovers, of course I’d gladly stay by your side as your concubine,” Liu Yuanxun would have refused him with gentle regret: “But I don’t want you as my concubine.”
Then, under the pretense of goodwill, he would use Gu Lianzhao up and send him from Prince Rui’s Mansion with every honor.
That would be true baseness, richly deserved.
Gu Lianzhao kept his eyes downcast. His long, straight lashes cast shadows, veiling his dull gaze and the venomous hatred seething in his heart.
The living had endless choices and possibilities. Just as he had gradually supplanted Ling Ting, so too would another Pure Yang Physique eventually take his place.
Better for him to die.
In death, he would lie obediently in his coffin—his sole spouse in life and beyond, the only one to touch his waist, kiss his skin.
Death would make it all eternal. That beautiful shell would never age with time. He would remain forever pristine, soft, and gentle in Gu Lianzhao’s memory.
Each harbored his own thoughts, plunging them into silence.
A moment later.
“A’Qiao…”
“Your Highness.”
They spoke at the same time. Liu Yuanxun yielded. “You first.”
Gu Lianzhao gazed at him steadily, letting the stifling question slide past. In a soft voice, he asked, “Beyond dual cultivation, I can’t imagine what connection Pure Yang Internal Energy could have to bedroom matters. Do you have any ideas?”
Liu Yuanxun had no solid leads. Any guesses would be shots in the dark, and too many could cloud his judgment.
But if he couldn’t break through head-on, he could work backward from the outcome.
Between him and his Imperial Brother, aside from his Consort Mother and the Gu Poison, there were no tangled webs of profit and scheme. If his Imperial Brother meant to act, those two matters were the likely keys.
His Consort Mother lived secluded in the palace, with no connection to Gu Lianzhao. That left only the Gu Poison.
He had swallowed that incurable poison precisely to guard against his Imperial Brother going back on their deal midway. If “consummation” somehow tied into the poison, then perhaps Gu Lianzhao was the antidote his Imperial Brother had found for him.
Stepping back ten thousand steps—even if his Imperial Brother had no such intent and some other scheme in mind—anything short of detoxification held no interest for him.
Time was short. He had no patience for these shadowy maneuvers.
Consummation was out of the question. He wouldn’t ruin a ger’s purity on his deathbed. As for anything else, if his Imperial Brother was set on it, so long as it didn’t endanger his Consort Mother, Liu Yuanxun would play along. Whatever his Imperial Brother wished.
Softly, Liu Yuanxun said, “Let’s leave it at that.”
Gu Lianzhao’s head snapped up in shock. “You truly have no desire to learn the Emperor’s real purpose?”
“It’s not important.” Liu Yuanxun gazed out the window, his voice distant, tinged with a weary detachment from worldly affairs. “If my Imperial Brother spoke plainly, I’d do whatever I could to help. But since he’s gone roundabout, he must have foreseen my refusal. And if he’s already guessed I’d say no, there’s no need to bring it up again.”
Liu Yuanxun might not care, but Gu Lianzhao did.
If consummation truly concerned Liu Yuanxun’s life, then once he died, the lies Gu Lianzhao had told Eunuch Hong would all come to light.
Before he could dwell on it further, Liu Yuanxun spoke again. “Rest easy. Since you’re caught up in this, I’ll take full responsibility to the end. Whatever my Imperial Brother is planning, I won’t let you come to harm.”
Gu Lianzhao froze.
Those words he’d spouted so insincerely while playacting echoed in his ears once more. They were his own, yet they rang utterly foreign now.
“No one’s ever been this good to me…”
“I’ll always remember how well you treat me…”
But that very morning, he’d betrayed him, pledging his loyalty to Eunuch Hong instead.
