TRM Chapter 12

After autumn arrived, the weather grew colder day by day.

In the early mornings, a thin layer of white frost would form on the grass leaves in the courtyard. When Zhou Jingyuan returned from the palace at night, he would be covered in the cold chill.

As he stepped through the gate of the inner courtyard, through the faint mist, the yellow glow of the palace lanterns beneath the eaves could be seen. Qiao Guanxing immediately lifted the thick curtain and ran toward him.

With only a few steps left, he still had to hand him a small silver hand warmer.

The comforting warmth spread from Zhou Jingyuan’s fingertips to his heart. He lowered his gaze and saw Qiao Guanxing’s bright round eyes, his smile curving to reveal a small dimple.

“Your Highness, are you cold? Are you hungry?”

Whenever he saw Zhou Jingyuan, he would always talk endlessly, like a young dog who had been waiting for its owner to return home, its tail wagging after being bored all day.

Zhou Jingyuan’s heart melted, and he listened attentively with a smile in his eyes.

Qiao Guanxing talked about the snacks he had eaten that day, and the fish swimming in the East Palace’s pond. As he spoke, his mood seemed to drop. “The mint in the courtyard has withered today, and I wonder how the plants I planted at the Astrology Tower are doing…”

Zhou Jingyuan paused for a moment and, after a brief silence, asked, “It must be boring at the East Palace, right?”

Besides him, there was no one in the East Palace that Qiao Guanxing was familiar with, and no familiar things either.

The East Palace was not like the Astrology Tower, and it was even less suited for Qiao Guanxing to observe the clouds and stars or predict the weather, as he used to.

Zhou Jingyuan knew that, even though Qiao Guanxing didn’t speak about it, he must be very bored when he was left alone in the palace while Zhou Jingyuan took care of government matters.

So, whenever he returned to the palace and was met by Qiao Guanxing’s bright eyes, he couldn’t help but feel soft-hearted.

In the cold night, the words spoken would turn into faint white mist that quickly dissipated.

Zhou Jingyuan adjusted Qiao Guanxing’s collar and asked casually, with his usual expression, “Would you like to go back to the Astrology Tower?”

Hearing this, Qiao Guanxing froze.

He knew how much Zhou Jingyuan cared about him staying by his side without leaving.

Qiao Guanxing turned his head to look at Zhou Jingyuan for a few seconds before asking, “Your Highness, aren’t you worried that I might leave again?”

Zhou Jingyuan didn’t look at him. His gaze was directed ahead, but the hand hidden under his sleeve reached out, lightly and seriously curling around Qiao Guanxing’s fingers.

Qiao Guanxing, this little liar, Zhou Jingyuan thought to himself, before tightening his grip on Qiao Guanxing’s hand.

“I trust you.”

When he left the Astrology Tower, it was midsummer. Now, returning, it was already deep autumn.

The leaves in the courtyard had turned a warm yellow, and the curtain on the tall tower swelled with the autumn wind.

Lord Ning was lying on the window railing, lazily swishing its tail. When it saw Qiao Guanxing, its ears immediately perked up, and it stared at him fiercely for a moment, before leaping straight into his arms.

Qiao Guanxing, who had never been so warmly approached by Lord Ning before, was somewhat taken aback, but he carefully picked up the cat and used one hand to stroke its soft fur.

After several months, Lord Ning had grown heavier. Qiao Guanxing remembered how he used to feed it dried fish, and it would barely acknowledge him, acting like it didn’t care.

He had always thought Lord Ning didn’t like him.

Thinking of this, Qiao Guanxing suddenly felt a sense of deja vu… Zhou Jingyuan was just like this cat.

The Astrology Tower hadn’t been inhabited for months, so Qiao Guanxing took out his notebooks where he recorded the weather data of the capital. It had been raining a lot recently, and he was afraid they would become damp if he didn’t air them out.

The sound of the pages turning in the courtyard was mixed with the rustling of wind. Some pages, marked with traces of charcoal, fluttered. Occasionally, Qiao Guanxing could see some messy data and weather predictions.

He flipped through aimlessly and sighed.

He had chosen this specialty because he really liked it, but he never expected that before completing half of his studies, he would end up here.

Nature’s weather was eternal, but knowledge and experience were not.

There was so much he still hadn’t had the chance to learn. Now, when facing many problems, he could only explore them by trial and error, with only a partial understanding.

In the true history of the world he came from, the ancients had a great understanding of meteorology. They had developed many fine instruments and written related works long ago.

But here, in the Great Zhou Dynasty, the emperor was ignorant and obsessed with immortality practices, disregarding true talent. This was the reason the country lagged behind in this field.

However, no matter what, the world would continue to develop.

Qiao Guanxing seriously looked at his notebooks and thought that if he could gather a group of like-minded students to discuss and learn together, it would be a good foundation for meteorology in the future.

By evening, the weather had completely cooled down. The wind had stopped blowing, and it felt as though the air had been soaked in cold water.

The notebooks were quickly put away. Qiao Guanxing finished tidying up, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. He leaned against the open window next to the soft couch, his elbow brushing the zither on the table.

This zither had been there for a long time. He didn’t know how to play it, but Zhou Jingyuan occasionally played a few pieces for him.

Qiao Guanxing wasn’t very knowledgeable about music, but he was good at showing appreciation. No matter how Zhou Jingyuan played, he could always genuinely praise him for a long time.

Zhou Jingyuan would always look skeptical and frown, asking, “Really?”

Qiao Guanxing immediately swore his loyalty, “Of course it’s true!”

Then he would be ruffled on the head. The Crown Prince would be in a good mood, with a faint smile in his eyes, and his ears turning pink, he didn’t know when.

“Next time, I’ll teach you.”

Thinking of Zhou Jingyuan’s smiling gaze, Qiao Guanxing’s heart suddenly beat a little faster.

He reached out and touched the taut zither strings. They felt cool and slightly damp.

A slight breeze from outside the window gently blew in, carrying the smell of earth, cold.

Recently, the weather had been affected by a cold air circulation. With such high humidity tonight, Qiao Guanxing thought there would definitely be heavy fog.

He put on his cloak, preparing to go out and meet the hardworking Crown Prince, and then return home together.

The Imperial Study wasn’t too far from the Astrology Tower. On the way, the mist had already started to rise.

The bright red palace lanterns swayed gently in the night sky. Qiao Guanxing looked ahead and saw the windows of the Imperial Study glowing especially brightly in the dark.

The attendant waiting outside the door must have been instructed by the Crown Prince, as he didn’t stop Qiao Guanxing when he arrived. He simply bowed and let him in.

“Your Highness?”

Qiao Guanxing lifted the curtain and looked inside. Zhou Jingyuan was standing by the desk, collecting something, seemingly surprised by his arrival. He had lost hold of the scroll in his hand, which fell to the ground and rolled away.

Qiao Guanxing quickly stepped forward to pick it up, but as he bent down, his hand froze.

The scroll was open, revealing a beautiful and unfamiliar young woman holding a flower, smiling at the person outside the painting.

His mind went blank as he maintained his posture, picking up the painting and staring at Zhou Jingyuan in a daze.

There were many more scrolls like that on the desk.

Qiao Guanxing’s throat seemed to tighten, and a strange sourness surged up from deep inside him, sudden and unfamiliar, with no time to prepare.

He knew that this wasn’t his business, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“…Your Highness, what are these?”

Zhou Jingyuan simply replied, “They were sent by the court ministers.”

His father, the Emperor, was near death, and the ministers in court were eager for him to select a Crown Princess as soon as possible. Otherwise, when the Emperor passed away, he would need to observe mourning, preventing him from marrying for several years.¹

Zhou Jingyuan had no intention of doing so. He was content with his little liar.

Just this afternoon, he had warned the ministers not to bring up the subject of taking a wife again. The scrolls had been brought, but no one had had the chance to take them away, so it happened that Qiao Guanxing had seen them.

Fearing that Qiao Guanxing might overthink it, Zhou Jingyuan sighed and was about to explain seriously. But before he could, Qiao Guanxing spoke first.

His little liar stammered, “Your Highness, are…are you going to choose a Crown Princess?”

“Maybe, maybe it’s better to wait… You’re so busy right now, getting married would take up too much of your energy.”

“Love and affection won’t help, it’ll just slow you down when reading the memorials.”

“Besides, besides, there’s…”

Qiao Guanxing desperately searched for reasons, but he hadn’t thought deeply about why he felt the need to do this. It was just an instinctive unwillingness to see Zhou Jingyuan get married.

He didn’t want someone else to appear by Zhou Jingyuan’s side.

Zhou Jingyuan, who had originally planned to explain, remained silent after Qiao Guanxing spoke. He listened slowly, a smile beginning to form in his eyes.

He even followed along with Qiao Guanxing’s words. “I’m not busy, and marriage wouldn’t take up much energy.”

“I read memorials quickly, it won’t delay me.”

“Go on, what’s next to ‘besides’?”

Qiao Guanxing’s face turned red. How did Zhou Jingyuan know there was a “besides”?

On top of that, after being countered by Zhou Jingyuan, he felt a little disheartened. He could only lie through his teeth, “Besides… I observed the heavens at night, and the stars say it’s not an auspicious time.”

He knew these words would be useless to Zhou Jingyuan. Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, Zhou Jingyuan chuckled lightly.

“I don’t believe in that.”

“…Oh.”

Qiao Guanxing responded dryly, lowering his eyes, not knowing what to say next.

He couldn’t explain the feeling in his heart—it was like being struck by a cold wind mixed with ice and snow on a winter night, choking on the snowflakes, coughing painfully.

His eyes grew warm, and he took a deep breath, about to say something to cover up his discomfort, but the next second, Zhou Jingyuan pulled his hand and hugged him.

The soft fabric of Zhou Jingyuan’s clothes pressed against his face, warm and comforting.

Zhou Jingyuan stroked his back gently, as if soothing a child. “The stars don’t decide. You do.”

…What?

Qiao Guanxing froze, lifting his head sluggishly to look at him, only to be gently held by his face, unable to move.

Zhou Jingyuan’s earlobes were flushed like they might bleed, his deep voice carrying a tenderness that was usually absent.

“Whether or not I marry, and to whom, my heart’s desire will decide.”

Outside the window, thick fog had already enveloped everything, covering countless golden towers and jade palaces. In the whole world, it seemed as if only the lamp inside the room remained illuminated.

Qiao Guanxing finally understood the love in Zhou Jingyuan’s words. All the confused thoughts and the unclear barriers were now consumed by a passionate flame.

Zhou Jingyuan made it very clear to him.

“I’m in love with you. I cherish you.”

The Crown Prince cupped his face, forcing him not to escape. Their gazes met, and their breaths intertwined.

“I’m saying this for the first time, and I’ll only say it this once.”

He closed his eyes, gently rubbing his heated cheek. “If you disagree…”

He didn’t finish, but Qiao Guanxing, in a daze, asked, “What happens if I disagree?”

Zhou Jingyuan lowered his gaze to him, letting out a faint sigh. “If I love you, what else can I do?”

The Crown Prince’s words carried a subtle hint of grievance. “If you disagree, I can only beg you.”