Xie Yanfang responded affirmatively and walked over to sit down as suggested.
…
…
Chu Zhao passed through layers of guards heading toward the rear palace. She wasn’t too worried about how things would go between Deng Yi and Xie Yanfang.
No matter how clever Xie Yanfang was, Deng Yi was someone who dared to slap the Emperor’s face.
And no matter how domineering Deng Yi was, Xie Yanfang was someone who dared to rebel—
Neither of these two were to be trifled with.
When the strong met the strong, for the current young monarch, this was a good thing.
Seeing Chu Zhao return, the eunuchs standing before the hall all breathed a sigh of relief and quickly gathered around. “Miss Chu, you’ve returned.”
No one dared question why she had left the Young Highness or why she’d been gone so long.
With Xie Yanlai’s words, Xiao Yu had been persuaded back to bed, but he hadn’t fallen asleep. Seeing Chu Zhao enter, he quickly jumped down from the bed.
“Don’t run, don’t run.” Chu Zhao reached out to catch Xiao Yu and gather him in her arms. Before he could speak, she took the initiative to say, “His Majesty summoned me to speak, and later I went to see Grand Tutor Deng. You were asleep then, so I didn’t wake you or tell you. Don’t be angry.”
Xiao Yu shook his head, then nodded, but said nothing.
Chu Zhao led him by the hand to the bedside. “You haven’t slept for a day and night. The imperial physician said you need rest—you must recuperate your energy and spirit.”
Xiao Yu nodded, but holding Chu Zhao’s hand without letting go, he said in a low voice, “You also haven’t slept. You also rode horses and killed people. You also need to rest and recuperate your energy and spirit.”
Chu Zhao laughed. “A’Yu is right.” She gestured to Xiao Yu. “Quick, get in bed. I’ll rest with you.”
Only then did the child’s tense little face relax. He obediently climbed onto the bed. As Chu Zhao covered him with the quilt, she was suddenly poked by something and saw a bamboo tube.
Chu Zhao wasn’t unfamiliar with this bamboo tube.
When she’d first held Xiao Yu at Chu Garden, she’d noticed it. The little child had clutched the bamboo tube tightly in his arms, never loosening his grip for a moment.
At that time, circumstances had been urgent and she hadn’t asked much, even thinking it might be some important national treasure or object he’d brought out.
It was still in Xiao Yu’s hands now—he even held it while sleeping.
“What is this?” she asked curiously.
Xiao Yu quickly hugged the bamboo tube to his chest, lowering his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
Chu Zhao made a sound of acknowledgment and didn’t ask further.
But Xiao Yu looked at her and said, “It’s—I cut it on the mountain.”
This child still gave her an explanation. Chu Zhao gently stroked his head, feeling somewhat heartbroken. For this child, what should have been happy play with his parents had, in the blink of an eye, become eternal separation between the living and the dead. Only this bamboo tube remained in his hands.
“Then we must keep it safe,” she said, lying down beside him and gently patting Xiao Yu and the bamboo tube. “Such a good thing cannot be lost.”
Xiao Yu said nothing more, and with Chu Zhao’s patting, slowly closed his eyes.
Chu Zhao watched the child’s fluttering eyelashes and felt the tense body beneath the quilt. She sighed inwardly but didn’t expose his pretend sleep.
In that previous life, she hadn’t been able to have her own child. Before, she’d thought it was because her body wasn’t well and had even blamed herself. Of course, now she knew—it was because Xiao Xun wouldn’t let her have children.
It was better not to have any.
Looking at Xiao Yu’s tender face, Chu Zhao thought that with her fate in that life, if she’d left a child in the world, how could the child have lived? It would have been too cruel, too pitiful.
Chu Zhao patted Xiao Yu and gradually fell asleep herself.
She too hadn’t closed her eyes for a day and night.
After she stopped moving, Xiao Yu, who had been pretending to sleep, opened his eyes. He stared blankly at the bed canopy, clutched the bamboo tube in his arms tightly, and curled up into a ball.
…
…
Night fell once more on the imperial capital. The palace was brightly lit with lamps and torches, imperial guards standing in dense rows.
Xie Yanlai dismounted his horse, removed his sword and blade, and strode into the palace with an expression carrying some displeasure. When stopped by someone, his brows relaxed instead.
“What are you doing?” Vice General Zhong said with a stern face. “Weren’t you told to guard the city gate? You’re running around—”
Before he could finish, he saw the young man clasp his fists and bow. “Very well. Please ask Vice General Zhong to inform Miss Chu that this subordinate takes his leave.”
After speaking, he turned to leave.
“You stop right there,” Vice General Zhong shouted angrily. Fortunately his ears were sharp and he’d heard the words “Miss.” Though reluctant, still— “Since Miss summoned you, why aren’t you running there quickly?”
Xie Yanlai said, “Vice General Zhong, why not go in and ask? Perhaps Miss Chu was worried you were busy and didn’t get around to telling you. After all, you’re the most reliable at getting things done.”
Vice General Zhong naturally knew he was the most reliable at getting things done, but since Miss wanted to find this brat—
“Cut the nonsense,” he scolded in a low voice. “Get in there quickly.”
Xie Yanlai raised his eyebrows and said in a low voice, “At this late hour, how inconvenient—”
Vice General Zhong’s scar twitched as he said in a low voice, “Your nephew is inside. Your nephew is looking for you. What’s inconvenient about that?” After speaking, he grabbed the young man’s arm and flung him inward.
He’d wanted to give him a kick too, but moved a step too slow—the brat had already jumped away and was striding off.
Vice General Zhong stared at the young man’s retreating back and snorted inwardly. Miss was only looking for him because of the Young Highness. This brat better not get any romantic ideas.