Not long after, Ling Ting returned as well. He glanced at Gu Lianzhao, a trace of hesitation appearing on his face. It was clear he had something to say, but only where no one else could overhear.
Gu Lianzhao tactfully withdrew.
The moment he was gone, Ling Ting spoke up. “Eunuch Hong has already returned to the palace, but before he left, he mentioned Lord Gu and passed along two messages.”
“The first concerns Lord Gu’s assignment. Eunuch Hong said he couldn’t make the decision himself. He has to wait until you recover, Master, before going to the palace in person to request it from His Majesty. As for the second…”
Ling Ting drew in a soft breath—one so light that Liu Yuanxun didn’t notice. “According to Eunuch Hong, His Majesty is quite displeased that you and your consort haven’t consummated the marriage yet. The reason he ordered you two to spend every day together is to help you get familiar with each other quickly, nurture some feelings, and make the happy event happen sooner.”
Liu Yuanxun frowned faintly. “Managing my marriage is one thing, but now he wants to meddle in our bedroom affairs too?”
Wasn’t forcing him toward death enough? Did they have to make him father a child first, to leave behind a bloodline? But he couldn’t say any of that to Ling Ting. He simply waved a hand, brushing the matter aside. “I understand. It’s getting late—have the meal served.”
Ling Ting assented and promptly left the room.
Gu Lianzhao was standing in the courtyard. When he heard the door open, he turned to look at Ling Ting. Their eyes met.
Ling Ting smiled amiably. “Does Lord Gu have any food allergies or dislikes?”
Gu Lianzhao replied flatly, “None. Anything is fine.”
With nothing more to say between them, and the necessary question asked, Ling Ting departed.
Gu Lianzhao lingered in the courtyard for a moment longer before pushing the door open and heading back inside.
By the time he entered, Liu Yuanxun was seated at the table, propping his chin on one hand with his brows slightly furrowed. Seeing Gu Lianzhao arrive, Liu Yuanxun straightened his sleeves a bit awkwardly and said politely, “Please, sit.”
Gu Lianzhao took the seat as instructed but said nothing.
“Lord Gu…” Liu Yuanxun hesitated over how to begin, only for Gu Lianzhao to speak first. “If it doesn’t bother Your Highness, please keep calling me Gu Jiu.”
“Gu Jiu.” Liu Yuanxun readily agreed, switching to the new form of address. The words that followed came more easily. “You’ve heard His Majesty’s oral decree. Now that we’ve laid our cards on the table, there’s no need to keep certain things from you.”
Gu Lianzhao raised an eyebrow. “Please go ahead.”
Liu Yuanxun cradled the cup of hot tea on the table and took a light sip. He spoke slowly, all the while carefully observing Gu Lianzhao’s expression. “His Majesty is eager for us to consummate the marriage. Delaying once or twice is easy enough, but putting it off indefinitely is bound to anger him eventually. It doesn’t matter to me, but if you want to stay on in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, you can’t afford to earn His Majesty’s displeasure.”
The words sounded perfectly reasonable, yet they carried the unmistakable implication that consummation was agreeable. Gu Lianzhao’s brow twitched twice, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he probed cautiously, “What do you mean?”
Seeing Gu Lianzhao’s calm demeanor, Liu Yuanxun relaxed further. “I have a certain medicine here. Apply it to the Virginity Mark, and within eight days, it’ll be gone. If you’re amenable, we could keep it as a last resort.”
So it was medicine after all…
The faint tension in Gu Lianzhao’s chest eased, and he agreed readily. “Very well, let’s do as you say.”
Gu Lianzhao’s quick acceptance took Liu Yuanxun by surprise. After a brief moment’s thought, an idea occurred to him. “Does the Gu Family… treat you poorly?”
The Tianyong Dynasty had open customs. Widows remarrying was commonplace. While a ger’s status was lower than a woman’s, if he remained intact—and especially as the son of an official—he could still find a match of somewhat reduced standing. But without Lord Gu’s support, even if the Emperor permitted him to leave the prince’s residence, the absence of a Virginity Mark would make remarriage exceedingly difficult.
Gu Lianzhao’s swift agreement suggested he hadn’t even considered his future prospects.
Gu Lianzhao hated people prying into his private affairs, but Liu Yuanxun’s position demanded respect. Moreover, he still needed to get by under this man’s roof. Laying out the truth might even bring some advantages.
After weighing it all in his mind, Gu Lianzhao spoke evenly. “My birth mother was merely a maidservant in a merchant’s household. During Lord Gu’s southern inspection tour, she was selected to attend him personally. But Lord Gu claimed his household rules were strict and his principal wife intolerant of such things. After a few nights of intimacy, my mother was discarded. When she later discovered she was pregnant, she had no choice but to give birth to me. Five years after that, a plague struck the town. I survived and spent several years drifting before the Gu Family finally acknowledged me. Given my lowly status as a ger with such an irregular background, the way they treat me… is hardly unjustifiable.”
“Unjustifiable” was just empty words. In truth, he wished the entire family had been dragged to hell eight hundred generations ago.
The moment the imperial decree of marriage had landed in his hands, a plan had taken shape.
He couldn’t topple the Gu Family alone, but if he killed the Seventh Prince and deliberately left clues behind, the Gu Family would be charged with regicide and exterminated to nine degrees of kinship.
With his skills, he could vanish into the jianghu like a stone sinking into the sea—as long as he was cautious, he might still have a chance at survival. If not for his reluctance to abandon the official position he’d fought for, and if Liu Yuanxun hadn’t proven kinder than expected, he might have acted as early as the second day.
As anticipated, Liu Yuanxun had already imagined a tale of woe from Gu Lianzhao’s account, his gaze now filled with pity and gentleness.
But such tenderness no longer moved Gu Lianzhao.
In his darkest days, he’d lived like a dog, willing to do anything to survive. Back then, a single steamed bun from someone would have had him kowtowing in genuine gratitude.
But no such kindness had ever come.
He hadn’t met a single good soul in his life, so now his heart was like cold ashes, incapable of stirring even the slightest emotion.
Pity only disgusted him.
There was no need for the Seventh Prince to know any of that, though. If the prince wanted to play the good Samaritan, it meant more benefits for him. Why refuse?
…
Breakfast had been prepared. Ling Ting had been gone only a quarter of an hour when he returned carrying the food boxes.
The meal was light yet nourishing, with a wide variety of dishes. Clearly, four or five people had spent the morning meticulously preparing it.
A tableful of seven or eight small side dishes and two mains: the greens were vibrant and crisp, the eggs tender and fresh, the soft glutinous porridge wafting an enticing rice fragrance. Even the pink-tinged meat peeking from the crystal buns looked utterly appetizing. The presentation alone was enough to whet the appetite.
Gu Lianzhao kept a calm expression, but his stomach let out a loud gurgle, as if he hadn’t eaten in eighty lifetimes. His face flushed red—not from shyness, but pure embarrassment at his traitorous gut.
“Try it.” At seventeen or eighteen, boys were still growing, so Liu Yuanxun didn’t laugh. Instead, he personally picked up a crystal bun and placed it in Gu Lianzhao’s bowl.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Gu Lianzhao ate it with his head down. Whether from hunger or the exceptional quality of the prince’s kitchens, he found the meat exquisitely tender and succulent. He could have devoured the entire plate in one go.
As if reading his mind, Liu Yuanxun slid the plate of buns closer. “My health doesn’t permit meat or rich foods. Eat as much as you like.”
Hearing that he avoided meaty dishes, Gu Lianzhao paused just as he was about to reach for his chopsticks.
He hadn’t eaten properly in some time, so yesterday’s lavish spread had left a deep impression: all big fish and meats, flavorful and restorative. At the time, he’d thought how fortunate he was that the Seventh Prince hadn’t joined him.
But if the prince avoided meaty foods, did that mean yesterday’s feast had been prepared especially for him? His heart softened for a fleeting moment, but the next second, Gu Lianzhao shoved the thought aside, refusing to dwell on it.
In life, one must guard against self-indulgent sentimentality. A single meal signified nothing.
Power and the pleasures of the table were the two things Gu Lianzhao craved most. With Liu Yuanxun’s encouragement, he didn’t hold back, polishing off a whole steamer of crystal buns in short order.
“There’s also porridge—yours has lean meat added.” Liu Yuanxun propped his chin on one hand, smiling as he pushed over the bowl. He looked to be in high spirits.
This time, Gu Lianzhao remembered his place. He glanced up at Liu Yuanxun. “You should eat too, Your Highness.”
Liu Yuanxun nodded with a faint smile and picked up his spoon to scoop a bit of the soft, plain porridge.
Too many medicinal tonics had damaged his stomach; his appetite had always been poor, and he felt little enthusiasm for meals. As long as he didn’t starve, that was enough.
Gu Lianzhao’s voracious eating was a sight he’d never witnessed before.
He ate quickly and cleanly, those usually cool, detached eyes now alight with warmth. Each time his chopsticks snagged a bun, his gaze immediately locked onto the next—like a wolf eyeing prey, intense and a touch ferocious.
Even Liu Yuanxun, who avoided meaty foods, found himself curious about the flavor of today’s crystal buns.
Maybe next time. For now…
Liu Yuanxun’s gaze flicked unnoticed to the rapidly emptying bowl of porridge. He began to doubt whether this spread would even satisfy Gu Lianzhao’s hunger.
The dishes that usually went back to the kitchen barely touched were today reduced to scraps.
Liu Yuanxun not only finished most of his porridge but, spurred by Gu Lianzhao’s example, even sampled two bites of vegetables. If Ling Ting hadn’t intervened, he might have gone for a piece of the meat aspic as well.
“Master, meaty foods can chill the body and harm your health. If you’re craving it, I can have the kitchens prepare a fresh portion just for you.”
“Never mind,” Liu Yuanxun set down his chopsticks. “I’m full now. Even if it made it to my mouth, it might not go down.”
Liu Yuanxun disliked crowds, and he kept few servants around him. Ling Ting handled nearly everything, great and small. Naturally, clearing the table after the meal fell to him as well.
Once Ling Ting had gone, only Liu Yuanxun and Gu Lianzhao remained in the room.
Gu Lianzhao reminded him, “Your Highness, about that medicine you mentioned…”
“I’ll give you the medicine in a few days.” Liu Yuanxun wanted to hold out a bit longer. He had an audience with the Emperor coming up soon. If a show of compliance could end this marriage, Gu Lianzhao wouldn’t have been pushed to the point of erasing his Virginity Mark.
“By the way,” Liu Yuanxun glanced at the sky outside the window. The sun was nearing its zenith. “Noon has just passed, and I need to visit the Taichang Temple. If you find the residence stifling, why not come along with me? It’ll be a chance to get some fresh air. What do you say?”
Concubines rarely went out, but Gu Lianzhao had a wild streak from his upbringing. Liu Yuanxun’s suggestion struck exactly the right chord, and Gu Lianzhao nodded at once.
