After Being Mistakenly Taken for a Fellow Traveler by Emperor Long Aotian - Chapter 133

Chapter 133: A Birthday That Compensated for All the Gifts

 

When he returned to his own chamber, he saw that the Emperor had fallen asleep on the table. It seemed that he had been waiting for him for a long time. Recently, with state affairs keeping him busy, his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, and he was still wearing the clothes he used for meeting ministers. Lying there, he looked like a big, fluffy bundle.

 

Zhou Xun couldn’t help but think of that little yellow dog. The one that came to see him in the icy snow long ago.

 

The couch was long, with a small table in the middle. The Emperor lay on one side, leaving enough space for Zhou Xun to sit on the other. Zhou Xun sat down opposite him, resting on the table as well, looking at him.

 

“I went out and did bad things today,” he said softly, his voice almost drowsy, “Yan Ruoqi and Princess Changle eloped, causing the Yan and Zhou families to lose face. I made Zhou Cai cough up blood from anger. Hmm… I didn’t expect Lu Xiandao to show up. Oh, and I put that painting up for auction.”

 

“You must have known about that, right?” He reached out and brushed the hair from the Emperor’s forehead. “You even bought the painting back for me. You’re too good to me, Rong Haoyu. You’d give me anything… but what can I give you?”

 

He paused, resting his head on the table and folding his hands under his chin, staring at him unblinkingly.

 

The most precious thing he had was his life, he thought.

 

What did Rong Haoyu like? He liked laughing without restraint, cracking jokes Zhou Xun didn’t understand. He liked discussing blueprints and governance, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He enjoyed showing Zhou Xun his accomplishments and speaking of his dreams.

 

Zhou Xun didn’t really know how to love someone. People who’ve rarely been loved often lose the ability to love others. But he thought, he would help the Emperor fulfill his dreams.

 

While alive, he’d stay by his side. When dead, he’d take care of his affairs and follow him.

 

That aged voice of the man he had once briefly encountered in the imperial prison suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

 

“Do you think your luck will last forever?” the man had said to him back then.

 

That seemingly random moment had left a strange imprint in his heart.

 

“…I hope you’ll always be part of my life,” he murmured. “If you were gone, I’d protect your empire for you and then follow you.”

 

He, too, fell asleep on the table. In a daze, he seemed to feel something warm and wet drip onto his forehead.

 

Was it rain? Or…

 

When he opened his eyes, he saw only the empty room and the Emperor across from him, snoring soundly and sleeping so deeply it seemed carefree.

 

Zhou Xun looked at the corner of his mouth and thought: …

 

But… after a long moment, he felt a strange sensation. Even if the Emperor was dreaming, that droplet just now had clearly landed on his forehead. No matter how deeply the Emperor slept, his… could not have achieved such a precise move.

 

He touched his forehead with his fingers, finding a faintly cool mark there. It was as if something akin to a tear had fallen on his forehead and dried.

 

…

 

The next morning, Zhou Xun woke up.

 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the bed, though he didn’t know who had put him there. The Emperor, who had been asleep on the table across from him the night before, was gone. The room was empty, and there wasn’t even the sound of a maidservant.

 

Zhou Xun: ?

 

Just as he was about to get up, his fingers brushed against something placed beside his pillow. Turning his head, he saw it.

 

It was a cloth tiger?

 

The kind of cloth tiger made for children to play with?

 

Zhou Xun: ?

 

He picked up the cloth tiger. Its whiskers were crooked, as if sewn by someone unskilled with needlework. Underneath the tiger lay a piece of paper, on which was written a line: “Happy birthday. Come find me at Seven Star Pavilion in the west of the city.”

 

The signature was a few flamboyant characters: “Your Brother Rong.”

 

Zhou Xun: ?

 

Judging by the handwriting, it seemed the Emperor had been practicing his calligraphy recently.

 

He couldn’t figure out what the Emperor was up to again, but since he was told to find him, he would go.

 

After dressing, he got out of bed. The entire residence was silent, not a soul in sight. Zhou Xun walked through this eerie quiet and pushed open the front gates.

 

Then…

 

“Where is Young Master Zhou heading? Come ride my carriage!”

 

“Mine! Mine!”

 

“My carriage is lined with fox fur…”

 

Outside the gates was a lively group of coachmen, who immediately crowded around to escort him to the most luxurious carriage as soon as he stepped out. Once inside, warm towels and fruit platters were handed to him. The carriage sped swiftly to the Seven Star Pavilion in the west of the city.

 

Seven Star Pavilion was the most renowned jewelry store in the capital, selling only the finest jade, crafted by the best artisans. When Zhou Xun entered, the usually aloof shopkeeper transformed into a beaming host. He presented a box, saying, “Young Master Zhou’s birthday gift is ready.”

 

Zhou Xun opened the exquisitely carved box, revealing a long-life lock intricately crafted from pure gold, inlaid with icy jade of the highest quality.

 

A long-life lock… clearly meant for a toddler?

 

Holding the lock, Zhou Xun found himself utterly puzzled. The shopkeeper then pulled out another item, saying, “Young Master Zhou hasn’t had breakfast yet, has he? There’s a private kitchen in the city called Zhao Ying Pavilion, owned by the chef here, whose skills are unmatched. Even the nobility must book half a month in advance to dine there. But today, I have a guest token for you. Please enjoy a meal there…”

 

Soon, Zhou Xun was whisked off to Zhao Ying Pavilion at top speed. Indeed, it was as famous as claimed. Though a “No Guests Today” sign hung outside, Zhou Xun saw servants from the Duke Hu Guo’s Estate, the Ninth Prince’s Estate, and the Marquis of Dingbei’s Estate waiting longingly outside. Yet the sign barring them was briefly removed for Zhou Xun.

 

The veiled chef herself welcomed him inside.

 

In the elegant courtyard that could seat six tables, Zhou Xun watched as the chef personally prepared him a bowl of…

 

Unbroken longevity noodles from start to finish.

 

“To eat longevity noodles, you must finish from one end to the other without breaking them, to keep the blessings continuous,” the chef said with a smile.

 

After finishing his meal, he saw a line of words at the bottom of the bowl, directing him to head to a carpenter’s shop in the northern part of the city.

 

At the shop, Zhou Xun received an intriguing wooden cat. Once wound up, it would sway and walk along the road. Zhou Xun held it in his palm, thinking it was a toy that children would greatly enjoy.

 

The carriage continued to carry him onward. At every stop, Zhou Xun was met with warm welcomes, as if the whole world were celebrating his birthday. In a handicraft shop, he received a set of bamboo wind chimes, each bamboo piece carefully inscribed with his favorite poems. Leaving the shop, he visited a bookstore where he was given the finest set of scholarly tools and many cutout illustrations of Romance of the Three Kingdoms characters, each figure vivid and lifelike—a collection beloved by children.

 

Next was a toy store, where he was presented with a giant, huggable, mustard-colored bear-shaped cushion. Zhou Xun’s eye twitched at the sight of it, and he ordered it covered and sent back to his residence. The next gift was more traditional: a set of jade-carved Go pieces, each piece adorned with carvings inspired by the solar terms. Following that was a beautiful slingshot, and then a wooden contraption resembling a bicycle that could be ridden and moved.

 

He was also gifted a Western mirror, which reflected images as clear as river water, and a music box. The box played melodies when wound, and the small cat and dog figurines on top would rotate in tandem. Another gift was a “magic cube,” a puzzling object that could be unlocked by returning it to its original shape. Zhou Xun tried twisting it but couldn’t solve it.

 

All day on the 29th of the fourth month, Zhou Xun basked in sunlight, receiving one gift after another. They were at times childish, peculiar, or strange but endearing. When his hands could no longer hold the gifts, attendants would carry them back to his residence. He wandered through the capital, visiting every corner. Each street was decorated with lanterns and banners, and every shop was friendly and welcoming, as if the entire world were smiling and celebrating his birthday.

 

The fifteenth gift was a beautifully crafted zither. When Zhou Xun saw the sixteenth gift, however, he paused.

 

It was an imperial decree.

 

A copy of the decree posthumously bestowing the title of madam of rank to Zhou Xun’s mother, Lin Yan. The original had already been delivered to Jiangzhou.

 

The seventeenth gift was a brand-new red robe for the zhuangyuan. The eighteenth was waiting at his own home: a plaque for the Zhou Residence inscribed by the emperor himself, along with a matching couplet he had personally written. The original plaque had been removed, and the household was in ruins. Passersby said that yesterday’s groom had been arrested by the imperial guards and taken to the imperial prison, along with his family for obstructing justice. While they fiercely denied the charges, evidence linking Zhou Cai to collusion with Northern Wei was found hidden beneath the wedding hall—a contingency left by the princess to expose Zhou Cai if necessary. Guards stationed there told Zhou Xun that although he and Zhou Cai shared the same surname and both had been zhuangyuan, Zhou Cai was now a traitor. To protect Zhou Xun’s reputation, once Zhou Cai’s case was concluded, the Zhou family would be branded as a criminal clan, stripped of their surname, and given a new one. Zhou Xun, however, would remain a Zhou.

 

The nineteenth gift was a small path lined with transplanted peach trees and fragrant calamus. Under the night sky, Zhou Xun ascended the steps and found a temple. Inside, long candles and eternal lamps burned brightly.

 

Beyond the temple was a great river. It was also the day of the temple fair, explaining the festive atmosphere throughout the city. Thousands of lanterns floated on the river, released by countless citizens.

 

And amidst this sea of lights stood the emperor.

 

“Happy birthday!” he called out, holding a lantern. “Here, light one too!”

 

The lotus-shaped lantern rested in his broad hand before Zhou Xun took it into his own.

 

“…To be honest, I wasn’t planning to approve this event—it’s too polluting, and tomorrow morning we’ll have to send people to clean up. Such a hassle. But the citizens love it, so here we are,” the emperor said as he handed Zhou Xun a brush. “Why don’t you write something?”

 

Zhou Xun lowered his gaze and smiled. “Is this the twentieth gift?”

 

He had understood the emperor’s arrangements for the entire day. The emperor had not been part of his past, but today, he had given him every gift he should have received at every age, in perfect order.

 

The emperor grinned sheepishly, scratching his head. “Well, kind of?”

 

Zhou Xun held the brush, clutching the lantern in his hands, blinking hard before writing four characters: “Eternal peace for all.”

 

The emperor saw the words and pouted. “What about me?”

 

Zhou Xun chuckled. “If the world is at peace, as the emperor, you will also be safe and remembered for ages.”

 

“The world belongs to the people, not to me.”

 

The emperor’s tone was earnest. Zhou Xun turned the lantern and showed him the other side, where four more characters were written: “A lifetime of peace.”

 

The emperor is within his lifetime. His peace includes him; without him, how could peace exist?

 

The emperor laughed, grabbed a lantern, and scrawled the words, “Mutual love.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Together forever.”

 

The two lanterns floated side by side, carried away by the river. Zhou Xun remarked, “It’s said that the farther the lanterns float, the more likely the wishes will come true.”

 

“Really?” the emperor asked.

 

Zhou Xun nodded, watching the lanterns drift away.

 

“Then I’ll have someone retrieve them later and send them to Liangzhou’s lake when Duke Duan returns to the northwest.” The emperor clapped his hands, excited. “Can any lantern travel farther than ours, crossing time and space?”

 

Zhou Xun: …What a genius you are.

 

As he was about to respond, two lanterns nearby ran aground, bumping into the riverbank. Their candles remained lit, suggesting they had been released only moments ago.

 

“Huh, unlucky ones? These lanterns seem to have floated over from Yan Yun Pavilion,” the emperor said cheerfully, still in a good mood. Seeing the two forlorn lanterns, he decided to help. “Let’s set them back in the water. We’re happy; others should be happy too.”

 

Together, Zhou Xun and the emperor crouched to place the two unlucky lanterns back into the river. As Zhou Xun held one of them, he noticed faint writing on its surface. Though some words had been blurred by the water, it read: “Year after year, safety and peace.”

 

The emperor, meanwhile, sniffed the air. “This lantern smells like—Ahchoo!” He sneezed.

 

Zhou Xun leaned closer. Indeed, the lantern carried a faint fragrance, though he couldn’t place it. The other lantern bore delicate handwriting, saying simply: “Wish fulfilled.”

 

The emperor, stifling another sneeze, released the lantern. It bobbed unsteadily along the river, and the emperor exclaimed with satisfaction, “See? We did a good deed today—”

 

Before he could finish, one of the lanterns collided with another and sank into the water.

 

The emperor: …

 

“By the way,” the emperor said suddenly, grinning mischievously, “I have somewhere to take you. Cover your eyes first.”

 

Zhou Xun: ?

 

He tied the black cloth the emperor gave him over his eyes and allowed the emperor to lead him carefully up the steps. In the darkness, he could feel the emperor’s firm grip on his hand and hear the faint rustling of calamus on either side. He heard the emperor ask softly, “Are you afraid?”

 

Zhou Xun shook his head.

 

With you here, I’m not afraid.

 

Finally, they seemed to reach their destination—a hilltop overlooking the city. The emperor removed the blindfold, and Zhou Xun’s eyes lit up.

 

A golden firework burst into the night sky, perfectly timed.

 

The first was golden, the second red, followed by green, purple, and blue. One after another, the fireworks exploded, their echoes reverberating through the air as the night sky became a canvas for blooming flowers. The emperor covered Zhou Xun’s ears with his hands, shouting over the noise, “These metals—flame tests—I spent so much effort extracting them—so they could explode—”

 

Proudly, he explained a slew of physics and chemistry that Zhou Xun couldn’t understand. “I designed all this—”

 

Amid the vibrant display, the emperor shouted in his ear, “These are all fireworks—81 in total, 9 times 9 is 81, each one a gift—future gifts—together, they make 100 years! We’ll live to be 100! Oh, and on the last stroke of your birthday—”

 

“Happy birthday!!” he bellowed. “Happy birthday!”

 

…

 

Meanwhile, at Yan Yun Pavilion.

 

The lively festivities continued late into the night. Qingruo set her brush back into its holder.

 

“So easy to fool… coming to me just to set off river lanterns?” she murmured.

 

Her expression, however, was not one of triumph. Her gaze was neither joyful nor sorrowful.