After Being Mistakenly Taken for a Fellow Traveler by Emperor Long Aotian - Chapter 145

Chapter 145: Clean and Neat

 

The house in the secluded bamboo grove remained shut tight. Old Shen was not there.

 

“Times of war, and Master is still out on a mission?” Zhou Xun thought.

 

Before he realized it, a strong sense of unease gripped his chest, like an impending crisis looming over him.

 

Zhou Xun had lost many things in the first half of his life. Now, he didn’t want to lose a single one more.

 

Pressing his lips together, Zhou Xun found a hidden entrance in the backyard. He pushed open the small door, and his fingers were met with dust.

 

Beyond the dust was a silent courtyard, empty of any people.

 

Zhou Xun stepped inside, the night wind carrying a chill and a strange metallic tang in the air. There was no one in sight, only the moonlight. Not far ahead was Old Shen’s bedroom, dark and unlit.

 

Holding his breath, Zhou Xun advanced step by step. Through the window, he couldn’t see a thing.

 

A peculiar smell hung in the room.

 

Zhou Xun reached out and pushed the door open.

 

What he saw inside—illuminated by the moonlight—was not only the room but also—

 

Bloodstains on the bed!!!

 

“Hush,” a voice suddenly spoke from behind him, covering his mouth.

 

“You came just like Old Shen said you would,” the person said in a low tone. “Follow me. I’ll tell you the truth.”

 

—

 

The Princess Fukang’s residence.

 

Zhou Xun did not expect to meet Lu Xiandao here. Lu Xiandao froze for a moment upon seeing him, then led him further in.

 

Old Shen now resided in a small courtyard within the princess’s estate. Before even entering, Zhou Xun heard Old Shen’s cheerful voice: “The wheel of fortune turns. I’ve lived almost sixty years and finally got to see you cry for me once…”

 

“I should’ve known someone like you would live for thousands of years,” Fukang’s resentful voice retorted from inside. “I’m leaving now. Do as you please!”

 

“Go, go, you should go, or else Old Lu…”

 

“Hmph.” Fukang snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. Old Lu knows better.”

 

When Zhou Xun entered the room, Old Shen had already leaned back against his pillow. He had put on a brave front earlier when Fukang visited, but now he lay pale and weak. Seeing Zhou Xun, he sighed, “I knew you’d come looking for me sooner or later, you brat.”

 

Zhou Xun ignored him and sat by his side. “What exactly happened?”

 

“Shot by a poisoned arrow,” Old Shen sighed. “Lived most of my life, only to be taken down by someone’s scheme…”

 

“Does the emperor know?”

 

“Don’t blame His Majesty. He didn’t want to worry you, and besides, you wouldn’t have been able to help,” Old Shen said quickly.

 

Zhou Xun lowered his head, his gaze landing on the documents by Old Shen’s pillow. After a moment of silence, he said, “I can help.”

 

“Help, my foot!” Old Shen glared, puffing out his beard.

 

“Then who else will?” Zhou Xun shot back.

 

Old Shen: …

 

—

 

“General.”

 

City defense plans.

 

The Red Lotus Sect.

 

Zhou Xun wrote down every key term on a sheet of xuan paper and, at the very bottom, wrote three words:

 

“Yanyun Fang.”

 

The poisoned arrow had nearly taken Old Shen’s life, forcing him to recuperate at the princess’s residence. Investigations by the secret agents revealed that the arrow originated from a North Wei spy embedded in the capital.

 

The root of it all lay in Old Shen’s discovery of the North Wei “General” and the Western Liang-based “Red Lotus Sect,” who colluded to leak Jing’s intelligence. But what led directly to his attack was his uncovering of the Red Lotus Sect’s presence at Yanyun Fang and identifying the “General”—a woman.

 

North Wei’s current offensive was heavily aided by these internal collaborators.

 

“Yanyun Fang,” Zhou Xun pressed harder on the name as he wrote, finally stopping on the last two words he added.

 

“Qingruo.”

 

“…Master, it’s been confirmed,” a black-clad agent reported, appearing beside Zhou Xun. “The Heavenly Maiden is indeed…”

 

“Little Eunuch Li’s sister.”

 

“During the famine years ago, she was separated from Little Eunuch Li and later sold to Western Liang. She was bought by the Crown Prince of Western Liang, who planted her in Yanyun Fang as a spy. For years, she gathered intelligence for Western Liang but later aligned with North Wei. Her Red Lotus Sect, primarily made up of women, not only raised funds but also specialized in intelligence gathering.”

 

“In the past three months, who has been in close contact with her?” Zhou Xun asked.

 

The agent handed over a list. Zhou Xun flipped through it, seeing names of prominent figures from court and society.

 

This meant that arresting the woman without solid evidence would cause significant turmoil.

 

“Should we find an excuse to bring her in?”

 

“No, we need her to expose herself. Not only that, but we must use her to locate the North Wei contacts. The ‘General’ remains our greatest threat, while she is just a pawn working for the Crown Prince of Western Liang. Western Liang is currently embroiled in a power struggle between the Crown Prince and the Second Prince and cannot spare attention for Jing,” Zhou Xun said. “We must determine when and how she connects with North Wei.”

 

After some thought, Zhou Xun recalled someone.

 

Madam Lu.

 

“Check if anything unusual happened at Luhua Nong on the 15th of May,” he instructed.

 

The agent departed, leaving Zhou Xun alone in the room.

 

He had taken on this matter behind the emperor’s back. Officially, Old Shen was still in charge, but in reality, it was now his responsibility.

 

Zhou Xun did not inform the emperor.

 

Flipping through the roster repeatedly, Zhou Xun mentally analyzed the possible flow of information. Finally, he ran his fingers over the last entry and murmured softly.

 

“There’s one more person.”

 

Xie Zhengqing.

 

The so-called blitzkrieg and pincer movement, concepts untested in real battle, were known only to three people from that day in the imperial garden.

 

Yet North Wei’s intercepted military reports used these exact terms. While Old Shen’s confusion was understandable, Xie…

 

Zhou Xun stared at the roster, silent for a long time.

 

—

 

Summer rain poured heavily.

 

Eunuch Li, holding a lantern, dozed under the eaves. The emperor was still in the imperial study, poring over military reports. From inside, his voice could occasionally be heard.

 

“Anyone standing in our way is trash!”

 

“Make Jing Great Again!”

 

“Take this, Eastwind Express!”

 

“Flood the Seven Armies? Not happening, not happening, not happening!”

 

Eunuch Li was not on duty tonight but had come to check on the emperor. Hearing the emperor’s spirited voice, he felt much more at ease.

 

He truly hoped that Jing would not go to war with North Wei. But unlike the appeasement-minded ministers, his concern lay elsewhere.

 

Watching the rain splash into the flowerbed, muddying the little garden outside the study, Eunuch Li thought he’d have to remind Green Herb to have someone clean it up in the morning.

 

On rainy days like this, stepping in the mud was unpleasant, sticky, and uncomfortable.

 

He remembered that his sister had hated muddy ground when she was a child.

 

“Eunuch Li.”

 

There was a sound, right beside his ear.

 

Eunuch Li raised his head and saw the refined young man in front of him. He quickly said, “Ah, it’s Young Master Zhou. You must be here to see His Majesty? I’ll…”

 

“The emperor is busy,” Zhou Xun shook his head and smiled.

 

The two sat down together. The rain pattered on the ground. Zhou Xun drew his feet back slightly, and Eunuch Li, noticing his care, said, “Young Master Zhou doesn’t like rainy days?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Zhou Xun replied. “Rainy days feel damp and uncomfortable.”

 

“My sister also hated rainy days,” Eunuch Li blurted out.

 

He immediately regretted his words, thinking they might be inappropriate, but Zhou Xun simply asked, “What kind of person is your sister, Eunuch Li? You’ve been searching for her all these years.”

 

Then, as if feeling a little embarrassed himself, Zhou Xun smiled faintly and added, “I never had close family, no siblings, and certainly no sister, so I’m curious…”

 

“She…”

 

Perhaps it was the rain or Zhou Xun’s gentle voice, but Eunuch Li, holding the lantern, began to recount his past.

 

“She was quite a tomboy, always running barefoot on the ridges with me when we were little, getting all dirty, and then being scolded by my mother. Funny thing is, I was the one who’d end up crying. She was good with words—she’d calm my mother down and then comfort me too,” Eunuch Li said, scratching his head. “Actually, she was very pretty. Once, a girl in our village got a new dress and kept showing it off to her. I remember thinking I’d buy her an even prettier one someday because I knew she’d look even better in it.”

 

He shared many stories about his sister—climbing trees, catching fish, and all sorts of childhood memories. Finally, he said, “In short, she was a clean, bright little girl who always smiled.”

 

Zhou Xun listened quietly, his expression serious, without interrupting for a long time.

 

“Eunuch Li.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“…I wonder what she’s like now,” Zhou Xun said softly. “Have you thought about what she might have become?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s very possible that she’s already…”

 

Eunuch Li paused, then laughed and scratched his head. “There are plenty of well-off farmers in Xiliang, right? Maybe she married one of them and has kids now. That’d be nice. Honestly, I don’t need to see her again. Just knowing she’s living a good life is enough.”

 

A life that’s plain but clean—that would be good too.

 

Zhou Xun said nothing, but after a long while, he gave a quiet “hmm.”

 

The light in the imperial study went out, and Zhou Xun left with the emperor. On the way, the emperor complained about his sore back, grumbling about needing his wife to massage it. Zhou Xun massaged his temples instead.

 

Eunuch Li never realized that Zhou Xun hadn’t come to see the emperor.

 

He had come to see him.

 

He also didn’t know that earlier that evening, Xiao Wu had come to Zhou Xun with a list, nervously stammering that Aunt Lu wasn’t scavenging trash.

 

The proof? Most of what she collected was lightweight and portable, yet inconspicuous. Moreover, during the last seven days before she collapsed, she had always been loitering around Luhuanong.

 

…

 

The rain was nearly over, but Qingruo, staring at the orchids by the window, felt inexplicably uneasy.

 

When her maid asked whether to display white or yellow orchids today, she paused and waved her hand. “White.”

 

The maid knew Qingruo loved orchids and placed a pot on the windowsill every day, regardless of the season.

 

There hadn’t been anything unusual lately.

 

Each day remained the same: high-ranking officials and nobility came and went, the atmosphere was one of extravagance. The border war hadn’t dulled the capital’s vibrancy, and she overheard some officials criticizing the emperor’s decision to go to war with Northern Wei, advocating instead for appeasement—a stance favorable to her.

 

Except for…

 

That escaped old woman.

 

Until she confirmed the woman’s death, Qingruo could not feel at ease.

 

But today finally brought good news: the guards stationed at the Lu household had all withdrawn. With the capital in such chaos, they had no time to pursue a trivial matter. Now, she could eliminate loose ends.

 

“Set fire to it. Burn it completely,” she ordered.

 

That day, she entertained only one guest—a scholar who loved her music and had written countless poems praising her beauty, even though he already had a wife. Every time she saw him, she felt disgusted.

 

By dusk, she sat alone in her side room, watching the twilight outside. The nearby teahouse was empty, no visitors in sight.

 

But she wasn’t watching the teahouse.

 

She was watching the horizon.

 

The distant sunset flared red, growing brighter, as if the sun were falling, or a jar of cinnabar had spilled, ruining an entire painting.

 

Qingruo knew then that it was done.

 

She knelt in her room, still and calm, watching the fire in the distance. But then came a knock at the door.

 

The paper door rattled softly.

 

No one was supposed to visit her tonight—not a guest, nor the person her orchids awaited.

 

Yet someone had come.

 

The door slid open, and a young man stepped inside.

 

Qingruo frowned and snapped, “How did you get up here? You—”

 

Her voice cut off.

 

The man’s eyes slanted slightly upward, his skin pale as jade, and his hair and brows pitch black, like a faint ink painting.

 

With just one glance, she recognized him, her mind going blank.

 

She knew who he was.

 

Zhou Xun.

 

Minister of Revenue, the emperor’s lover, disciple of Si Yi Envoy Shen Huanju, and the man who had appeared at Luhuanong that day.

 

She heard her own bones tremble, but her lips still curled into a smile. “What brings Young Master Zhou here today?”

 

The man in black sat across from her.

 

One in a lavish dress, the other in the darkest black, sitting face-to-face. Outside the window, the sun fell like a crimson wound.

 

Qingruo moved with deliberate calm—or forced composure. She poured tea, handed Zhou Xun a cup, and said, “Young Master Zhou, dressed so somberly in Luhuanong, seems out of place…”

 

“There was supposed to be a funeral tonight, wasn’t there?”

 

Her hand trembled. Tea spilled onto the table.

 

“Qingruo, heavenly maiden. Saintess of the Red Lotus Sect. Spy for Xiliang. The most loyal agent of Xiliang’s crown prince. Ally of Northern Wei. The one who attempted to assassinate Madam Lu.” With every title Zhou Xun uttered, Qingruo’s face turned paler.

 

But what truly drained her blood was the final sentence.

 

“Or perhaps… Li Atong’s sister, Li A’ruo?”

 

The teacup fell to the ground.

 

“Now, do you see who has been investigating you in Xiliang?”

 

Zhou Xun stood, walked to the window, and lifted the curtain to gaze at the fading sun.

 

Behind him, he heard Qingruo’s shaky breaths. Turning back, he stood before her, black-clad against the massive, sinking sun.

 

“I brought something.”

 

In his hand rested a white paper flower. Zhou Xun said, “This flower might rest on someone’s coffin tonight.”

 

He closed his fingers around it, his pale hand engulfing the delicate shape.

 

“Do you want it to be you? Or would you prefer that Li Atong see this coffin? He’s been searching for you all this time.” Zhou Xun spoke softly.

 

He watched the heavenly maiden tremble. The ornate robes she wore seemed to weigh her down, and she slumped over the table, her fingers spasming as they clutched its edge.

 

Zhou Xun leaned closer.

 

“When I was in prison, the guards made me watch a live flaying session to extract a confession. They split the victim’s scalp in a cross and poured mercury into the wound. The person left the room as a mangled, bloody mess,” he said quietly. “If you die, I’ll ensure you’re dressed in pristine white burial robes, with a paper flower placed on your body. But those robes may end up stained beyond recognition.”

 

“Li Atong told me his sister was a clean, pure girl. He said she loved playing in the fields with him. Even with mud on her feet, she seemed spotless in his eyes. He imagines she might have married a farmer in Xiliang and now has children,” Zhou Xun finished.

 

…

 

A long silence.

 

At last, Qingruo’s voice came, faint and trembling.

 

“So, in someone’s memory, I’m still a clean, innocent girl?” she whispered. “There’s someone in this world who sees me that way?”

 

Sometimes, convincing someone doesn’t take threats or coercion. Just a single sentence.

 

Because when you’ve had so little, even the faintest glimmer of light can be enough.

 

“What do you want to know?” Qingruo asked. “Xiliang? Northern Wei? The Red Lotus Sect? The crown prince? Or something else? I can tell you everything.”

 

She tilted her chin upward, shedding her fragile demeanor and reclaiming her proud poise. Smiling, she said, “After all, I won’t get out of this alive, will I? I can hear the guards outside. This place is surrounded, isn’t it? Since that’s the case, let’s make it quick.”

 

Zhou Xun sat across from her. Qingruo paused and added, “There is one favor I’d like to ask of you.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s a small thing, but it should be easy for someone like you. Tell my brother you didn’t find Li A’ruo. That I have nothing to do with his sister.”

 

Zhou Xun finally looked up at her. “Why?”

 

“For someone, somewhere, to still see me as clean and innocent—that’s enough.” She smiled.