After Being Mistakenly Taken for a Fellow Traveler by Emperor Long Aotian - Chapter 114

Steward Qiu continued to sit there, listening to Rong Fen talk about his life with a sympathetic expression. However, Rong Fen suddenly did not want to speak anymore.

“I really hate snow,” he murmured. “When it snows, the whole world is icy, and no flowers bloom.”

Outside, the snow continued to fall. At that moment, Rong Fen remembered Zhou Xun.

Why did he think of Zhou Xun at this moment? Rong Fen wondered.

Snow is cold, and Zhou Xun was always cold too. When he was in the palace, he never smiled. He always sat in his room reading, like a cold statue—not a hysterical statue anymore. In fact, what Rong Fen couldn’t understand was that when he saw Zhou Xun’s heart-dead appearance later, he even missed his hysterical outbursts. Back then, Zhou Xun would go crazy and yell as soon as he saw him. At least then… he would still speak a few words to him.

Actually, Zhou Xun had smiled at him before. When he first entered the palace, as Zhou Cai’s younger brother seeking refuge, that winter was exceptionally early, and the peach blossoms bloomed in February. He remembered the palace, filled with peach groves. He walked in the peach grove, and Zhou Xun followed him—Zhou Xun always had this annoying habit of not daring to walk shoulder to shoulder with him, only following behind. So, he walked ahead, talking to Zhou Xun about trivial things. He mentioned that the peaches from the trees in the grove were not as tasty as the tribute peaches and that when the tribute peaches arrived, he would send two baskets to Zhou Xun…

What trivial words they were. He was a prince, and Zhou Xun a scholar, walking in a resplendent peach grove, yet talking about “I’ll send you some peaches when they ripen”?

What kind of conversation was that? Zhou Xun was Zhou Cai’s brother.

When he was with Zhou Cai, he never spoke such words. After meeting Zhou Cai through poetry, he knew that Zhou Cai, as the eldest son of the Zhou family, carried the family’s hopes, competing and striving against others despite his gentle nature, hence feeling oppressed and miserable. Rong Fen immediately resonated with him, saying, “Friend, I’m the same! I feel oppressed and miserable too. You write such good poetry; we are naturally kindred spirits in literature!” To cater to Zhou Cai’s sensitive nature and maintain their “literary friendship,” he and Zhou Cai always recited poems and painted together. Seeing peach blossoms, they would talk about the fleeting beauty of spring; seeing the Yellow River, they would lament the hardships of life.

But with Zhou Xun? Zhou Xun, being Zhou Cai’s brother, should also recite some poetry, right? He couldn’t let Zhou Xun think he was just a glutton who only cared about peaches.

But when he turned around, he saw Zhou Xun smiling. The Zhou Xun who, after entering the palace, always appeared cautious and serious, making Rong Fen feel bored, actually smiled. He smiled so happily, as if receiving a basket of peaches was the most amusing and delightful thing.

At that moment, Rong Fen couldn’t help but think, Zhou Xun, wouldn’t it make more sense to show this expression when I say I’ll give you baskets of jewels? Why is receiving a basket of peaches so amusing to you? Is your sense of humor that low?

Are peaches really that good? Are they better than the wealth of the palace? Better than when I decided to make you a legitimate consort?

Why did Zhou Xun smile over a basket of peaches, but when I tried to give him so much more later, he never smiled again?

But the last time at the Imperial Hospital, when he was harboring the intention to expose the emperor’s impostor, he saw Zhou Xun smiling again. Zhou Xun stood on the water, holding an umbrella, walking beside Rong Xuan. Their umbrellas kept colliding, splashing water on each other. Rong Xuan stopped and lifted his eyelid with his finger, and Zhou Xun laughed, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Was it really that funny?

Rong Fen didn’t understand Zhou Xun, and the failure of the subsequent rebellion confirmed that the emperor was indeed Rong Xuan. Everything he had planned was just his own madness. Yet even the emperor didn’t know that when Rong Fen was dragged back to the palace, clutching his kicked chest, he was still thinking about one thing.

Was it really that funny?

After being expelled from the palace for the first time, he heard many rumors about Zhou Xun and Rong Xuan. The palace servants said that Rong Xuan loved Zhou Xun so openly. Rong Fen sneered at the thought. Love? How could that be? Zhou Xun must be faking smiles to please the emperor for revenge. It was a simple fact. Rong Fen convinced himself of this because he didn’t dare think about what else he might do if he didn’t.

But that day in the rain… Even though they both had umbrellas, they were still wet. What was the point of the umbrellas then? When Zhou Xun was in the palace, even when Rong Fen treated him coldly, he never let Zhou Xun get wet. But Rong Xuan couldn’t even do this, yet Zhou Xun still laughed so happily.

Zhou Cai loved poetry and painting, and though Zhou Xun rarely wrote in front of him, he knew Zhou Xun was talented. When Zhou Xun left writing behind in the palace, Rong Fen didn’t care because Zhou Cai had never seen it. But when Zhou Xun stopped writing altogether, he cared even less. Did Rong Xuan recite poems and paint with Zhou Xun?

“Is it really that funny?” Rong Fen heard himself murmur. “What feather, what mountain… Is it really that funny?”

### Steward Qiu Didn’t Understand His Words

Steward Qiu didn’t understand what he was saying, thinking that Rong Fen was lamenting being treated as a joke by the people of the capital. He was about to offer some comforting words like “Your Highness, you are a favored one, and the Empress Dowager will surely persuade the Emperor to spare you when she returns to the capital,” but then he heard a noise outside.

It was rare to hear noise outside, so Steward Qiu went out to listen for a few moments, then returned with a face full of joy and said, “Your Highness, someone has sent New Year’s gifts!”

He knew that Rong Fen was in a bad mood, so he deliberately spoke loudly and forcefully, as if trying to recreate the lively atmosphere of the days when the prince’s residence was full of guests: “The gifts are from the Duke’s residence, Your Highness, there are still people in the capital thinking of you!”

After saying this, Steward Qiu hurried off to fetch the gifts. He didn’t know that his attempt to create a lively atmosphere in the empty room only made his good intentions seem all the more absurd and laughable.

The “plum tree” was brought in. Steward Qiu found a helper, and they brought it in with much effort, placing it beside the prince, while Steward Qiu chattered on, “Your Highness, look at this ‘plum tree’, the Duke’s residence really put in some thought! The ‘flowers’ on the plum tree are all made from folded paper. The paper has poems and essays written by the scholars of the capital. Your Highness, they must have known that you love these things…”

“I hate poems and essays.”

“Your Highness…?”

Rong Fen snapped back to reality and realized he had just said something inexplicable. He couldn’t understand why he said that, or why he was thinking of Zhou Xun, which only made him more annoyed.

Wasn’t he supposed to love Zhou Cai? But just now… why did he keep thinking of Zhou Xun?

“Leave me.” He waved his hand in irritation, “I will look at it myself.”

Steward Qiu was also driven away. Now, on the third day of the new year, there was only Rong Fen left in the room. He looked at the “plum tree” for a long time, and then sighed.

“In the end, I’ve fallen to this state,” he thought, “Zhou Xun, if you saw me like this now, you would laugh, wouldn’t you? I do look ridiculous.”

He irritably plucked a “plum blossom” from the tree to look at. It was a mediocre poem, and after a quick glance, he crumpled it up and threw it away.

The second “plum blossom” bore the handwriting of Wei Yuanzhou. Wei Yuanzhou had a bit of a crush on Zhou Cai, but Rong Fen had never seen him as a rival. Over the years, Wei’s literary talent had not improved… Rong Fen glanced at it and discarded it.

The third “plum blossom” was from Li Miao. Li Miao… the heir of the Duke’s residence. Rong Fen spared him some face and placed his “plum blossom” on the table beside him.

Then came the fourth, the fifth… soon, the ground was littered with crumpled “plum blossoms,” discarded like worthless scraps, forming a small pile. Rong Fen, in a bad mood, dealt with them more and more swiftly and carelessly.

Until…

A slightly sharp touch grazed his palm. Rong Fen unfolded a “plum blossom” hanging in an obscure corner. Its position was so inconspicuous, it seemed deliberately hidden. But actually, no one had intentionally done so; its “obscurity” was merely a coincidence, just fate.

But Rong Fen happened to unfold it. He was in a bad mood and needed something to vent his frustration on.

Until he saw some familiar handwriting, some familiar phrasing… on the paper blossom.

At that moment, Rong Fen was shaken to his core.

He stared at the paper blossom… at the strokes of the pen, and the words that had become so familiar because he had memorized another poem so many times…

He remembered asking Zhou Cai, in jest, why his handwriting had become more rounded and neat compared to before. Zhou Cai said his previous handwriting was too sharp, too messy, and unstructured, so his mother had made him practice.

Rong Fen thought at the time that it was good Zhou Cai practiced, his handwriting had indeed become much prettier. But those slightly sharp strokes, those hurried endings, were a real pity… They weren’t very pretty, but their absence made them missed. It was like a rose, with beautiful petals, but the thorns, though disliked, once removed, made the branch look ordinary.

All these memories came rushing back. He looked at the paper blossom.

All the sharp thorns reappeared on the paper. They were so sharp, so casually careless.

But they stabbed his eyes.

### Author’s Note:

This chapter is full of angst and torment, isn’t it (sweat).

Rong Fen: Is it really that funny?

But he still doesn’t understand. What was worth laughing at wasn’t staying dry from the rain, but the person who tried to brush shoulders with him while holding an umbrella. “The best thing isn’t the rainy day, but the eaves we took shelter under together.”

(Don’t you find it bittersweet (not really), even so, the prince still deserves to die suddenly.)