Gu Lianzhao was standing outside the Imperial Prison when he unexpectedly ran into Liu Xun.
Both he and Liu Xun knew full well what was going on with Liu Yuanxun. The only difference was that Liu Xun had no idea how much inside information Gu Lianzhao had uncovered. From Liu Xun’s perspective, then, he would undoubtedly side with Hong Fu and try to persuade Gu Lianzhao to return to the mansion.
As Liu Xun approached, Gu Lianzhao felt a surge of emotions he couldn’t quite identify—hope, perhaps, or resistance.
He knew perfectly well that if Liu Xun gave a direct order, he would have no choice but to obey and head back to Prince Rui’s Mansion. But he didn’t want to go. He didn’t even want to hear that name from someone else’s lips, let alone allow a third party to insert themselves between him and Liu Yuanxun.
Liu Xun halted three paces away, frowning at him with a look that suggested words hovering on the tip of his tongue. After a long silence, however, he said nothing and turned to walk in another direction.
Once Liu Xun had gone, Gu Lianzhao remained rooted to the spot for quite some time. It wasn’t until an Embroidered Uniform Guard emerged from the prison gates that he stirred. The guard froze upon spotting him, clearly surprised to find the very person he was looking for waiting right outside.
The guard hurried over and clasped his fists in salute. “This subordinate pays respects to the Ninth Lord.”
Gu Lianzhao turned to him, his gaze devoid of any emotion. “What is it?”
His voice sounded normal to his own ears, but the guard, who had been bowing his head, instinctively glanced up at his face.
What he saw there brought clear surprise to his features. He quickly composed himself, however, and reported swiftly, “Ninth Lord, Xiao Jinye in the cell says he wishes to see you.”
“I understand,” Gu Lianzhao replied evenly. Though his tone remained steady, his heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.
……
Ever since learning that even the Bone-Drop Kinship Test could be falsified, Xiao Jinye had suffered a tremendous blow. He had fallen gravely ill, and compared to the last time Gu Lianzhao had seen him, he looked far more gaunt and haggard.
When Gu Lianzhao arrived at the cell, Xiao Jinye was sitting with his back to him, staring up at the pitch-black wall. Hearing footsteps behind him, he rasped, “Is that Lord Gu?”
Gu Lianzhao affirmed it with a word.
Xiao Jinye turned slowly, peering at him through the gloom. In a low voice, he said, “I want to see the Prince.”
“Very well,” Gu Lianzhao agreed without hesitation. He struck the copper gong on one side of the cell, summoning the guard from the outer chamber. “Go to Prince Rui’s Mansion and deliver the message that Lord Xiao wishes an audience with Prince Rui.”
The guard acknowledged the order and departed, plunging the prison back into silence.
“Lord Gu,” Xiao Jinye said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. After a lengthy internal struggle, he finally asked, “Have you been to my residence?”
Gu Lianzhao replied, “I have.”
“Oh.” Xiao Jinye murmured in acknowledgment, then pressed on. “What… what is the place like?”
Gu Lianzhao summed it up coolly. “Derelict and desolate. Not a soul in sight.”
“Oh.” Xiao Jinye responded again, hesitation plain on his face.
Gu Lianzhao knew exactly what he wanted to ask and why he was holding back. Xiao Jinye yearned for news of his family but dreaded hearing it. Ignorance might preserve a sliver of hope; the truth would shatter it, leaving only despair.
But his family was dead. The sheer volume of blood, the density of the splatter—it left almost no chance of survivors.
Gu Lianzhao watched Xiao Jinye coldly, waiting for the man to either speak up or lapse back into silence.
Instead of inquiring further about his kin, however, Xiao Jinye shifted his focus. “Might I ask what relation you bear to the Prince?”
Gu Lianzhao paused. He nearly said, “None at all,” but the words stuck in his throat. To deny it outright felt wrong, as if he were severing something vital.
How could there be no relation? Was there any bond tighter than theirs in this world? Their lives were intertwined; to claim otherwise would be pure self-deception.
Yet what relation could there truly be? Marriage was a sham, friendship an illusion. If he dissected it, perhaps the only real thing between them was raw, physical desire.
Seeing Gu Lianzhao fall silent, Xiao Jinye took it as confirmation.
If there were truly no connection, the answer would have come easily. But if there had been progress of some kind, the silence wouldn’t have stretched so long.
During their last meeting, Xiao Jinye had already sensed Gu Lianzhao’s feelings toward Liu Yuanxun. Though it had surprised him, it was none of his business, so he had let it drop. He was asking now only to gauge how far Gu Lianzhao would go for Liu Yuanxun.
The road to Jiangnan would be far more perilous than they had anticipated. One misstep, and it could all unravel into certain defeat. Every person involved, every move they made, had to be rock-solid if they hoped to topple that colossal foe from its foundation.
Just as Xiao Jinye resigned himself to no answer, Gu Lianzhao spoke up. “He is my husband.”
“What?” Xiao Jinye’s head snapped up in shock, certain he had misheard.
“He is my husband,” Gu Lianzhao repeated calmly, meeting Xiao Jinye’s stunned gaze. “We’ve been married for nearly two months.”
In truth, he should have said, “I am his consort.” But he recalled Liu Yuanxun’s own words back at the Meng Mansion. Liu Yuanxun had said that the inner residence held only him, so there was no difference between taking a consort and taking a wife.
It was strange, really. When he’d first heard it, the statement hadn’t stirred him much. Yet now, days later, it came back to him with crystal clarity—the precise look on Liu Yuanxun’s face, the very inflection of his voice.
Grand Secretary Meng had insisted he was merely a consort, and Liu Yuanxun had noticeably bristled, emphasizing his words to stress that no one else would enter the inner residence. Taking or marrying—it amounted to the same thing.
That was Liu Yuanxun’s way: planting subtle traces in the smallest details, undetectable at first, only revealing their warmth and regard upon later reflection.
Who could have imagined that such a gentle soul might one day harbor true murderous intent…
By now, amid the anger and hurt, the emotion Gu Lianzhao felt most keenly was bewilderment. It was like stepping from the height of summer straight into midwinter. Beyond the sharp sting of cold on his skin lay a deeper unreality, a dreamlike haze.
He kept imagining that he’d wake from a single night’s sleep to find it all undone—that the killing intent in Liu Yuanxun’s eyes had been nothing more than a nightmare.
But he knew it wasn’t.
Even knowing that, the bewilderment persisted, an uncertainty of how to face it, how to respond.
From the moment Xiao Jinye had called for him, Gu Lianzhao had realized this audience was really for Liu Yuanxun. Which meant he would see Liu Yuanxun himself soon enough.
Thus, amid the bewilderment mingled expectation, resistance, urgency, and the impulse to flee—emotions so tangled they threatened to tear him in two. One version of him stood firm on the ground, conversing calmly with Xiao Jinye; the other hovered in the air nearby, gripped by near-panic as he awaited Liu Yuanxun’s arrival.
Xiao Jinye, oblivious to the turmoil beneath the surface, recovered and murmured thoughtfully, “No wonder the Prince places such trust in Lord Gu.”
Trust?
Gu Lianzhao’s expression remained impassive as the word sent a chill through him.
Truth be told, he didn’t have to stand vigil here. He could leave anytime. Xiao Jinye wanted to see Liu Yuanxun, not him, and there was little for them to discuss regardless. If Gu Lianzhao truly wished to avoid Liu Yuanxun, he could depart without issue.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard had no shortage of capable men; he could assign any of them, or simply have Xiao Jinye brought to the Interrogation Room for questioning. That would sidestep the encounter entirely. Yet his feet felt rooted to the spot, immovable.
He no longer recognized himself. Liu Yuanxun had reshaped him into this.
Time dragged on. Xiao Jinye pondered his own concerns in silence, while Gu Lianzhao drowned in his.
Footsteps finally approached. An Embroidered Uniform Guard came up to Gu Lianzhao and reported, “Ninth Lord, Prince Rui’s sedan has arrived at the gates of the Commandery Office.”
Gu Lianzhao’s hands, hanging at his sides, trembled faintly. His breathing grew shallow as he issued orders. “Send men to escort him. And have Xiao Jinye brought to the Interrogation Room.”
The guard hesitated. “And you, Ninth Lord…?”
When palace attendants had first whisked Gu Lianzhao away, everyone had assumed Lord Gu had committed some offense. Only after Prince Rui personally returned him to them did they learn he had become the consort of Prince Rui’s Mansion.
The guard had naturally assumed that with the Prince’s arrival, the Attendant Consort would greet him personally. But this phrasing suggested otherwise—Lord Gu had no intention of showing his face.
On second thought, though, Lord Gu had spent three straight days resting in the Guard barracks. Surely it was a lovers’ quarrel. The very idea of Lord Gu caught up in such a thing felt absurd.
The messenger guard, who hadn’t dared meet Gu Lianzhao’s eyes before, now ventured a furtive glance. What he saw left him startled: Lord Gu looked so worn down…
Who knew Lord Gu could wear such an expression? the guard marveled inwardly before bowing respectfully and hurrying off to relay the instructions.
……
After recovering from his illness, Liu Yuanxun had resumed his duties at the Taichang Temple.
With the new year approaching, the desk overflowed with memorials both major and minor. The important ones had been handled by the two vice ministers in his stead; the rest simply piled up, awaiting his return.
The Embroidered Uniform Guard delivering the message first tried Prince Rui’s Mansion, then headed to the Taichang Temple based on directions from the gatekeeper.
Liu Yuanxun took the news in stride without much surprise.
Xiao Jinye wouldn’t divulge critical details without progress on the case, but neither would he let Liu Yuanxun set off for Jiangnan blindly.
