The summer night was stifling hot, yet the young man’s breath by her ear brought a chilling cold.
Chu Zhao looked up at him: “Your words are truly interesting. Why would I want you and Third Young Master to destroy each other? Previously I had nothing to do with you, and now between me and your Xie clan—oh, wait, that’s not right.”
Reaching this point, she raised her head even higher, staring into the youth’s eyes.
“I should say, Third Young Master and I are as one. The young prince’s safety, the security of my position as Empress—both inseparable from Third Young Master.”
“What benefit would your mutual destruction bring me?”
Xie Yanlai looked at her, withdrew his hand, and stood straight: “Everything you say is right, but I know this is your intent. Otherwise, why would you treat me so well?”
Chu Zhao couldn’t help but laugh, letting out a “ha”: “I treat you well?”
As if she’d heard something laughable, as if she’d never done such things and it was all his imagination. Xie Yanlai sneered coldly.
Keep pretending.
Chu Zhao stopped laughing and thought seriously: “I have treated you quite well. On the road, you hid that secret letter for my father—I didn’t tell Uncle Zhong. When you were beaten, I blocked for you and sent you medicine to treat your injuries. During that turmoil, I trusted you, had you guard the palace gate for me, and now want to give you the Dragon Might Army—”
She looked at the youth before her, nodding with an emotional expression.
“I truly treat you well.”
She reached out to pat the youth’s cold armor.
“A’Jiu, so you do know how well I treat you.”
Speaking thus, she pulled out a letter from her sleeve.
“Then surely you should deliver a letter for me?”
Xie Yanlai had imagined various reactions from her, but in the end was still defeated by this statement. He was both angry and amused, but more so irritated.
“Chu Zhao,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t play the fool with me.”
Chu Zhao’s face grew stern: “I’ve never played the fool. I treat you so well precisely to gain your reciprocation.”
Xie Yanlai sneered coldly: “Isn’t this playing the fool? You might not trust Xie Yanfang, not have him deliver letters, but what about Zhong Changrong? You surely trust him at least, and he’s about to return anyway.”
Chu Zhao said: “My father’s and my status are different from before. This Empress position—I demanded it from His Majesty. So many were caught unprepared and harbor resentment. Uncle Zhong is naturally reliable, but who knows how many eyes are watching him? Some things I can’t explain clearly to him, can’t make plain. Father knows nothing of what’s happening here. I must write personally to explain bit by bit. Moreover, some matters concern—”
She raised her eyes to look at Xie Yanlai.
“Concern whether my mother is alive or dead.”
Xie Yanlai glanced at her. Mother alive or dead? Though he didn’t care about this girl, he had no choice—this girl had caused such a commotion in the capital, everyone talking about her and discussing her. Her affairs had naturally reached his ears.
This girl also had no mother.
At birth, her mother had died.
So what did these words mean now?
“I know a secret—my mother didn’t die. She’s still alive.” Chu Zhao said softly, her hands clenched before her, her large eyes shadowed. “I need to ask my father what exactly happened.”
“My father is dying soon. I fear I won’t see him. I also fear I’ll never know this secret.”
Xie Yanlai turned his gaze away and said: “Having me take over the Dragon Might Army and deliver letters—I’m not a god.”
Chu Zhao said: “You can arrange for others.” She thought for a moment. “Uncle Zhang and the others would be good. You’re familiar with them, I’m familiar with them, and they’re completely inconspicuous—no one would notice.”
Xie Yanlai glanced at her and scoffed: “Your ‘familiarity’ and ‘trust’ are quite casual.”
What familiarity was there? Just hiding their identities as chance travelers on the road, nothing more.
“Although they say distance tests a horse’s strength and time reveals a person’s heart,” Chu Zhao said, “some people—whether reliable or not, trustworthy or not—can be known at a glance.”
Finishing, she looked at Xie Yanlai with a slight smile.
What are you looking at, what are you smiling at! Xie Yanlai sneered coldly: “Do you know what makes the most formidable liar? One true statement among ten lies.”
Speaking thus, he reached out and snatched the letter from her hand, turned and left.
“Hey,” Chu Zhao called.
Xie Yanlai stopped and looked back, asking impatiently: “What else?”
Chu Zhao walked over and circled around him. Unfortunately, Xie Yanlai was too tall to whisper in his ear.
“You asked me, but I haven’t asked you yet.” She could only lean close to his chest and say in a low voice: “Why would you and Xie Yanfang destroy each other?”
She looked up at him.
“I treat you well, yet you could think of this. What kind of life do you live at home? Has no one treated you well in this lifetime?”
Xie Yanlai looked at the girl who had moved close with her earnest expression, extended two fingers to poke her forehead and push her away.
“Chu Zhao, don’t play these games with me,” he said, his phoenix eyes lifting as he spoke in a low voice. “Using one’s own spear to attack one’s own shield—I’m not a three-year-old child.”
Speaking thus, he strode forward.
Chu Zhao called from behind: “A’Jiu.”
Xie Yanlai looked around somewhat irritably, then looked back at the girl, his eyes fiercely warning—this was the palace hall, not the wilderness, nor the street.
Chu Zhao smiled: “I want the A’Jiu I know to help me, not someone else.”
Xie Yanlai pulled at the corner of his mouth, scoffed once, turned and strode away.