After Being Mistakenly Taken for a Fellow Traveler by Emperor Long Aotian - Chapter 153

This troop moved as swiftly as lightning and thunder, breaking into Northern Wei in an instant, sweeping through all obstacles as if they were nothing, like a blade piercing into unguarded territory.

 

Northern Wei, having staked everything to invade Jing, left its rear defenses vulnerable. They thought they had blocked every possible path, but they never anticipated the arrival of this group!

 

They entered through a small path from the Crescent Moon Nation!

 

These soldiers carried strange weapons, including a device called “smoke bombs,” which could strike enemies from a hundred meters away. Their guns were also equipped with bayonets. Even more bizarre were the various objects they carried, which could be launched into enemy fortresses—some emitted noxious fumes, some created large clouds of smoke, some produced flashes of light, and others burst into flames.

 

This troop was only the tip of the spear. Behind them, more troops surged forward like a mighty flood. Finally, the emperor of Northern Wei could no longer sit still and sent a peace negotiation proposal to Jing.

 

By this time, that sharp blade of a troop had already reached the gates of the Northern Wei capital, threatening its very throat.

 

And thus, the dust settled.

 

Northern Wei was clearly panicked. They were already intimidated by the unprecedented methods showcased by this army—whether it was their various firearms or strange ammunition. Jing’s capabilities seemed inexhaustible. Northern Wei dared not gamble that this force, with its extended supply lines, would fail to unveil new strategies in the coming days, such as the rumored “white phosphorus.”

 

And the emperor of Jing? He had won the gamble.

 

“Knowledge is power!!” the emperor exclaimed triumphantly. “Honestly, if they’d held out for three more days, our troops wouldn’t have had food to eat!”

 

As he said this, he clapped his hands at Zhou Xun. “We won!”

 

This prolonged war had finally come to an end. The emperor, returning to his cheerful demeanor, demanded hefty reparations from Northern Wei before generously—

 

Releasing Prince Kang, sending him back to Northern Wei territory.

 

Prince Kang was, after all, the Northern Wei emperor’s brother. The emperor of Northern Wei paid a steep price to buy back his brother, including many high-quality horses. These horses would enter Jing’s breeding farms, where scientific breeding and crossbreeding would produce even better steeds. Eventually, they would become a powerful force defending the nation.

 

In giving up these horses, the Northern Wei emperor had indeed paid a heavy price. However, at the last moment, the emperor of Jing thought for a moment and added, “Bring some money too.”

 

“How much?”

 

“One wen.”

 

Prince Kang was found in a small countryside courtyard. When they found him, he was dead drunk, collapsed like a pile of mud, still calling the name “Hong Xue” in his dreams. Beside him was Zhou Wanwan, who maintained a forced smile even as she looked at his disheveled state.

 

What was odd, however, was that Zhou’s mother had died—her condition had clearly been improving, yet she suddenly passed away in her sickbed. The servants initially had doubts, but seeing Zhou Wanwan cry so sorrowfully and so intent on giving her mother a proper burial, they couldn’t bear to question her and directly buried Zhou’s mother.

 

No one knew how Zhou’s mother had died.

 

Only Zhou Wanwan knew.

 

When she visited her mother, she accidentally dropped the fragments of unsent letters from Zhou Cai in the room. Zhou’s mother saw those fragments, learned the truth about the sibling rivalry, and tried to crawl out, screaming to reveal everything to Prince Kang—

 

And then, she was smothered to death by her own daughter with a quilt.

 

In her final moments, gasping in suffocating agony, she demanded to know why her daughter was so unfilial. Through tears, Zhou Wanwan responded, “Humans die for wealth, birds die for food. Mother! You taught me this! You only ever cared about my brother, so I had to fight for myself!”

 

“Mother! Rest assured, I’ll find you a good burial site!”

 

Ye Shi, consumed by resentment and agony, died at the hands of the daughter she had raised. Even in death, she could not understand how her life of ambition and dedication to becoming a high-ranking matriarch had led to such an end.

 

But Zhou Wanwan could not fulfill her promise—Jing’s soldiers arrived too quickly, and Zhou’s mother was buried in a mass grave. By the time Zhou Wanwan remembered this, her mother’s corpse had already been picked clean by vultures.

 

And those vultures… were they not just like her?

 

She supported Prince Kang, trembling as they approached the emperor of Jing, and knelt. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the emperor himself would personally come to Yunzhou.

 

The emperor tossed a single wen at Prince Kang and said, “This is your ransom. You may go.”

 

Back when he had spent tens of thousands of taels of silver to purchase Hong Xue, and now, he himself was worth only a single wen.

 

Prince Kang, like a pile of mud, was dragged away. Watching from behind a tree were Zhou Xun and a man in a silver mask. This masked man, known as a madman among the troops, was one of the deadliest soldiers in the force that had pierced into Northern Wei territory. Many feared him.

 

“You’ve seen it. The emperor left him to you,” Zhou Xun said. “Don’t forget your promise.”

 

The man in the silver mask nodded.

 

After he left, Zhou Xun emerged from the shadows. He approached the emperor quickly, while in the distance, Zhou Wanwan, supporting Prince Kang, turned her head—

 

And from that moment, the image of the two men embracing burned into her eyes as if scorched by fire.

 

Zhou Wanwan carried her dream of becoming a princess consort back to the capital of Northern Wei with Prince Kang. Along the way, she despised his stench of alcohol, but when she saw the riches of Prince Kang’s estate, she regained her resolve.

 

Now, all obstacles preventing her from becoming Prince Kang’s wife had been removed! No one could stop her from becoming the mistress of Prince Kang’s household!

 

She mingled and socialized, acting as though she were already the mistress of the house, enjoying the opulence and prosperity of the capital. But what she didn’t expect was that barely a month later, she would be hit with a bolt from the blue—

 

Prince Kang was moving the entire household to the Crescent Moon Nation!

 

Zhou Wanwan didn’t understand. She tried to persuade him gently, but Prince Kang slapped her across the face.

 

“You said Hong Xue was nothing? And what do you think you are?” Prince Kang sneered.

 

At that moment, Zhou Wanwan finally understood the strange, mocking expressions people in the capital gave her—they saw her as nothing but a plaything.

 

Eventually, Zhou Wanwan followed Prince Kang to the Crescent Moon Nation. What other refuge did she have? She believed that over time, she could make Prince Kang forget Hong Xue and win his affection.

 

But she never understood that Prince Kang’s longing for Hong Xue was not out of love but self-pity.

 

And she finally died when she tried to drug Prince Kang and force herself upon him. Prince Kang strangled her, muttering to her bruised and battered corpse, “Hong Xue, I haven’t wronged you.”

 

He said this, feeling touched by his own actions, as if he had done something profoundly romantic and moving.

 

Though in everyone else’s minds, Hong Xue had long since perished in the fire.

 

Before her death, Zhou Wanwan was plagued by nightmares. In these dreams, she saw herself as a vulture, while Zhou’s mother’s broken corpse crawled out of the grave, reaching for her with bony hands.

 

She also saw Zhou Cai, his face full of blood and tears, glaring at her in hatred. She would wake up screaming, her mind deteriorating, her face soaked with tears. This torment, which nearly drove her mad, followed her until the end of her life.

 

When her body was finally laid to rest, some claimed that she wore a smile of relief and release on her face.

 

…

 

The emperor had come to Yunzhou to provide disaster relief. His presence sparked joyous celebrations among the people, drawing even those from neighboring regions of Xizhou and Liangzhou to come and see him.

 

“I feel like everyone’s idol,” the emperor said proudly to Zhou Xun. “Tomorrow, I’ll continue inspecting the sewer system!”

 

Indeed, after arriving in Yunzhou, the emperor had organized a series of infrastructure restoration projects, the most important of which was…

 

The repair and construction of Yunzhou’s sewer system.

 

“Sanitation is critical! Unsanitary sewers are the source of all epidemics!” the emperor declared. “By the way, where’s the new governor of Yunzhou? Why hasn’t he reported to me yet?”

 

Just as he finished speaking, someone hurried in, wiping their sweat: “Apologies for being late! I am the new governor of Yunzhou…”

 

The emperor nodded graciously. “What’s your name?”

 

The man wiped his sweat and revealed a cheerful smile: “My name is Ma Huateng Yun!”

 

The emperor: …

 

“Why don’t you just call yourself Ma Baowei instead? Bao from Alipay, Wei from WeChat…”

 

Ma Huateng Yun immediately lit up. “Thank you for the imperial decree!”

 

The emperor: …

 

The restoration of Yunzhou proceeded vigorously. One

 

He gathered the orphans who had lost their families and homes due to the war and established an orphanage there to shelter and educate them.

 

The children still had wary and timid eyes; the wounds inflicted by the war had not yet fully healed. But Zhou Xun believed that as long as enough love wrapped around all their scars, one day, they too would smile again.

 

After the emperor finished overhauling the healthcare system, he started working on Ma Huateng Yun. He seemed to harbor great suspicion toward Ma Huateng Yun, constantly warning him daily not to stir up trouble—especially after hearing that Ma Huateng Yun had started a goose farm and told his employees, “996 is a blessing.”

 

Ever since Zhou Xun began spending his days at the orphanage, the emperor frequently accompanied him there. To his dismay, the quiet children all seemed to prefer Zhou Xun, while the ones who liked him were wild and mischievous.

 

The emperor: “?? What’s the meaning of this?”

 

“Perhaps it’s like attracts like,” Zhou Xun said, holding back a laugh.

 

They squatted under a tree, watching the children play. The emperor squatted beside Zhou Xun with a grass blade in his mouth, observing Zhou Xun’s gentle profile. Then he eagerly said, “I’ve been teaching them lots of games recently, like calligraphy, hide-and-seek, and color cat…”

 

As he spoke, a cheer suddenly erupted from the group of children. It seemed one of them had lost a game. The child shouted loudly, and a group of kids gleefully hoisted him up—

 

And carried him to the tree.

 

Zhou Xun: ??

 

He turned and shot an icy glare at the emperor.

 

The emperor scratched his head and laughed, “Ahahaha, it’s just a coincidence, just a coincidence. This has nothing to do with me…”

 

“Aruba! Aruba!” came the cheering from a distance.

 

Zhou Xun: …

 

The emperor: …

 

Zhou Xun went over to rescue the child being “Aruba-ed” and sternly told the children never to engage in such dangerous activities again. The mischievous kids scattered and went off to play again. Zhou Xun shook his head, wondering if they had actually listened.

 

The emperor shuffled sheepishly to Zhou Xun’s side. Zhou Xun gave him a cold look. “No more teaching them dangerous games in the future.”

 

The emperor: “I was wrong. I’ll go kneel on the washboard.”

 

Zhou Xun looked at the emperor’s sincere apology and sighed. “Every time I work so hard to teach them proper things, you come along, and they turn into little troublemakers.”

 

The emperor earnestly admitted fault: “I was wrong.”

 

Zhou Xun: …

 

They sat back down under the tree. This time, the children refrained from any “Aruba” antics. A little girl with braided hair sat solemnly and told them to read their books.

 

All the children obediently sat down, even the boy who had just been hoisted up—he was the most mischievous of them all, the leader of the troublemakers. Traditionally, the one who gets “Aruba-ed” the most is often the most popular and has the most friends among the boys.

 

“That little girl is the daughter of the Prince of Jinbei. The prince passed away early, leaving only her and her mother, the Princess of Jinbei, behind. The princess, being kind-hearted and undemanding after the war, often lets her daughter come here to play,” Zhou Xun explained.

 

The sound of reading filled the air. Zhou Xun watched the scene, then suddenly heard the emperor ask, “You really like children, don’t you?”

 

Zhou Xun was taken aback for a moment, then flustered. “I…”

 

He lowered his head, suddenly recalling something. “You…”

 

He didn’t finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear.

 

As the emperor, he needed heirs to continue the lineage.

 

Back when the emperor was still a tyrant, he had recklessly indulged himself for years without producing a single heir, thinking he was still young. But now…

 

They would eventually have to face this issue.

 

Zhou Xun thought to himself that it would always make him uncomfortable—there was no way he could feel at ease. He could give his life for the emperor or even something more important than life, but he couldn’t bear to see the emperor grow close to someone else.

 

At his core, Zhou Xun was a very stubborn person. Stubborn people always had some deeply ingrained sentiments.

 

The emperor: “Huh? What about me?”

 

He looked utterly baffled and clueless.

 

Zhou Xun paused for a while and said, “You need to have an heir.”

 

“Oh…” The emperor responded, then suddenly looked oddly amused.

 

Zhou Xun watched as the emperor’s gaze lowered, finally stopping at his (Zhou Xun’s) abdomen. His face turned red instantly. “What are you thinking?!”

 

“You reminded me,” the emperor said, also blushing, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s been a while since we…”

 

Zhou Xun: “…That’s not what I meant!!”

 

“Everything will work out eventually,” the emperor said, suddenly picking Zhou Xun up. Zhou Xun was so startled that he grabbed onto the emperor’s shoulders. “Shall we try our best tonight to create a miracle?”

 

Zhou Xun: …

 

He buried his face in the emperor’s chest and muttered, “You clearly know that’s not what I was saying.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

The emperor pondered for a while in silence, making Zhou Xun increasingly anxious. When they entered the bedchamber, and the emperor shut the doors and windows, lying beside him, Zhou Xun finally heard him speak.

 

“So, here’s the question.”

 

“What…?”

 

“Would you rather be the empress or a minister?”

 

“What—what?!”

 

Zhou Xun sat up abruptly, only to have his shoulders pressed down by the emperor. The emperor looked seriously into his eyes and said, “Actually, in my world, there’s a famous saying.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Adopt, don’t shop.” The emperor replied solemnly.

 

Zhou Xun: …

 

“I can’t imagine having another person intrude into our world. And I can’t imagine a woman existing solely to bear a child for two men. What kind of life would that be for her? Doesn’t she deserve her own happiness?” the emperor said softly. “It’s too unsettling, too repugnant. I can’t fathom it. Besides, I know…”

 

“You sent the child of Zhou Father and that diseased courtesan to be adopted by a loving but infertile couple, didn’t you? That child carries Zhou Father’s blood. You despise Zhou Father but still felt pity for the child. His parents never loved him, so you found him a pair of loving adoptive parents, even though the child’s father was the person you hated most.”

 

The emperor said, “Zhou Xun, you’re a kind person.”

 

Zhou Xun covered his eyes with his arm.

 

“No child should come into this world for such a reason—to be used as a tool for lineage. We’ll find a capable and outstanding child among the royal family, the clans, or even the common people to inherit the world. But they don’t need to be related to us by blood,” the emperor said.

 

“I…” Zhou Xun whispered, “Honestly, I… I couldn’t accept it either. I couldn’t accept it, unless…”

 

—Unless the emperor truly fell in love with that woman.

 

In the past, such a thought would have made him want to leave and ensure the emperor’s happiness. But now, he…

 

“Then it’s settled!” the emperor said happily. “But for now, we could at least attempt to create a biological miracle…”

 

“Attempt what?” Zhou Xun looked at the emperor in confusion.

 

The emperor responded by grabbing Zhou Xun’s wrist and pressing it to his cheek.

 

“Take a guess?” he whispered.

 

He kissed Zhou Xun’s fingers, tracing along the knuckles.

 

“Baowei” is likely a pun or wordplay combining “bao” (meaning treasure or precious) and “wei” (which could mean micro, as in “WeChat” or “Weixin” in Chinese). It’s a playful jab at “WeChat” (微信), imagining the name as “Treasure Micro.” The joke stems from the fictional character “马化腾云” (Ma Hua Teng Yun) being a parody of Ma Huateng (the founder of Tencent and WeChat) and the idea of combining the platforms Tencent and Alipay. It’s a tongue-in-cheek addition to the comedic tone of the story.