TRM Chapter 9

Zhou Jingyuan’s days of lingering at the Astrology Tower came to an abrupt end in early June. The emperor, after prolonged consumption of alchemical elixirs, collapsed from blood vomiting and fell into a coma, plunging the court into chaos.

During his reign, the emperor had clung fiercely to power, refusing to delegate authority even as his judgment faltered. With his sudden incapacitation, the court found itself leaderless, forcing Zhou Jingyuan to hastily assume regency.

Burdened by entrenched corruption and administrative disarray, the crown prince worked until dawn daily. Rest became a luxury, and visits to the Astrology Tower dwindled to mere half-hour snatches every few days.

Each time the bronze windbird outside chimed in the breeze, Qiao Guanxing instinctively glanced toward the door, a faint, unspoken hope flickering in his chest. Though he knew it was just the wind, there was still an inexplicable sense of expectation deep down.

Usually, it wasn’t noticeable, but lately, with the Crown Prince not visiting, he had suddenly realized how empty the Astronomical Tower felt without him.

But wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?

Now that Zhou Jingyuan didn’t come and the palace was in disarray, it was the perfect time for him to escape.

He had long saved up enough money. Zhou Jingyuan, his superior, was indeed generous with rewards, handing out gold and silver in amounts of dozens or even hundreds of taels. This was more than enough for Qiao Guanxing to leave the palace, find a place to live, and buy a large mansion to live a carefree and luxurious life.

He bribed a little night watch captain in the palace, arranging for him to leave a small gate open and prepare a carriage for him at night.

The captain agreed quickly, saying it would be ready tonight.

The minty wind brushed against Qiao Guanxing’s face. He looked sluggish. Although he had been eagerly anticipating leaving the palace, now that it was finally within reach, he felt a sudden desire to run away at the last moment.

He hadn’t even said goodbye to Zhou Mingse or touched Lord Ning again.

He couldn’t bear to leave the third princess, the bad-tempered cat, the little prince, the Astronomical Tower, the mint near the wall, and the bronze bird outside the door.

…

Qiao Guanxing knew, deep down, that he couldn’t bear to leave Zhou Jingyuan.

Fortunately, he was naturally slow when it came to emotional matters, and after feeling down for only a short while, he stopped thinking about it and slowly prepared to leave the palace that night.

As he packed, the work plan he had written when he first arrived in Zhou fell out. The first few pages were filled with his ambitious goals to work hard for Zhou Jingyuan.

Well, that was no longer needed. Now, he was about to resign and enjoy life.

Qiao Guanxing thought about tossing the plan, but hesitated for a moment and couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he placed it in his small bag, which he would take when leaving the palace.

As the evening heat dissipated, a cool breeze blew by. Qiao Guanxing quietly slipped out of the Immortal Garden when it was completely dark, and he met the captain of the guards at a small side gate of the palace walls.

He quietly asked, “Is the carriage ready?”

The captain opened the door and pushed him in. “Time is tight. We could only rent a sedan chair, but the bearers are already arranged for you.”

“That’s fine.”

It was all transportation, no need to care about the rank or status of it. Qiao Guanxing didn’t mind and neatly handed over the remaining balance to the captain.

The captain casually weighed the money in his hand and pointed to a red sedan not far away. “It’s right over there. Hurry up.”

Qiao Guanxing looked over: …???

Why is it a red sedan?! It makes it look like a wedding procession!

The captain, seeing the confusion in his eyes, scratched his head. “There have been many people traveling lately, and sedan chairs are hard to rent. This is all we could get.”

“Just make do with it. No one will know who you are once you’re inside.”

At this point, Qiao Guanxing could only sigh helplessly. “…Fair enough.”

The red flower sedan swayed as it moved. The capital was vast, and they needed to keep a low profile. With the sedan bearers stopping to rest, it took the whole night to finally reach the outskirts of the city.

The curtain was lifted. He could see the distant city walls and hear the faint sound of the moat’s water.

Qiao Guanxing took a deep breath. Once he passed through this city gate, the sky would be vast, and he would be free to choose his own path.

But before Qiao Guanxing could fully immerse himself in visions of a carefree future, the sedan jolted abruptly and was set down with a decisive thud.

Frowning in confusion, Qiao Guanxing was about to lift the curtain and inquire when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Step out.”

The voice was low and icy, barely containing its simmering anger.

Qiao Guanxing’s expression shifted instantly. He froze for a moment, disbelief giving way to trembling dread.

…Could it be that the Crown Prince came to personally arrest him?  Was he even worth such attention? Was the crime of leaving the palace without permission truly so grave?

When the sedan’s occupant failed to move, Zhou Jingyuan’s expression darkened further. The previous night, exhausted yet unable to sleep after working late, he had gone to the Astrology Tower, hoping to catch a glimpse of his little liar through the window. Instead, he found the place empty.

Fearing something had happened, he immediately summoned his shadow guards to investigate, only to learn that Qiao Guanxing had left of his own accord.

Thinking of this, the Crown Prince tightened the reins in his hand. After extracting the escape route from the guard captain, Zhou Jingyuan hadn’t waited for his attendants to prepare. He mounted his horse and ridden through the night.

He didn’t understand why Qiao Guanxing left him. Had he done something wrong?

…Wasn’t the little liar supposed to be fond of him?

The wind lifted the corner of the red sedan’s curtain. Zhou Jingyuan, clearly losing patience, dismounted and walked toward it step by step. He stopped in front of the sedan and forcefully lifted the curtain.

Qiao Guanxing looked up, dazed, meeting the prince’s gaze. Zhou Jingyuan said nothing at first, his displeased eyes scanning Qiao Guanxing from head to toe. Only after confirming his safety did he speak, his tone cold.

“What? Must I kick the bridal door to coax my ‘bride’ out?”

…Bride? Bridal door?

Qiao Guanxing’s thoughts were a tangled mess, his mind consumed by the fear of whether his capricious, cold-faced superior would have him executed.

After a moment of silent staring, he stammered, “Your Highness… will you kill me?”

Zhou Jingyuan’s expression darkened further, his words biting and deliberate:

“No. I’ll lock you away.”

He would keep this little liar by his side forever, with no chance of escape.

Without waiting for a response, Zhou Jingyuan half-dragged Qiao Guanxing out of the sedan and onto his horse. Gripping the reins, he turned sharply and galloped back toward the palace.

Qiao Guanxing was pressed tightly against Zhou Jingyuan’s chest, the sharp wind whipping past his ears. The morning mist clung to his face, and he noticed the towering storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

It’s going to rain heavily soon, Qiao Guanxing thought.

As the imposing palace walls drew nearer, Qiao Guanxing began to wonder where Zhou Jingyuan intended to imprison him. The Court of Judicial Review? The imperial dungeons?

He wasn’t sure, but an inexplicable ache welled up in his chest.

The moment he had seen Zhou Jingyuan at the city gates, beyond the panic and helplessness of being caught, there had been a flicker of something else—a confused, reluctant joy at being found.

He couldn’t explain it, nor did he try. At the very least, he thought, perhaps Zhou Jingyuan still cherished some affection from their year together, sparing him from immediate execution.

The horse raced into the outer palace, its speed unrelenting, the wind still howling.

Qiao Guanxing’s half-lidded eyes widened slightly. After a pause, he cautiously reminded Zhou Jingyuan, “Your Highness, we just passed the imperial dungeons.”

Zhou Jingyuan ignored him.

A moment later, Qiao Guanxing added softly, “…And the Court of Judicial Review.”

This time, Zhou Jingyuan frowned, glancing down at him. His voice carried lingering anger and a hint of barely concealed hurt:

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Qiao Guanxing obediently fell silent, resigning himself to whatever fate the Crown Prince had in store for him.

Soon, they arrived at a painfully familiar location—

…The Eastern Palace?

Qiao Guanxing’s face stiffened. Zhou Jingyuan couldn’t possibly be planning to use corporal punishment, could he? Did his crime of leaving the palace warrant such a spectacle?

As attendants rushed forward to take the horse, Zhou Jingyuan dragged Qiao Guanxing along.

Trembling, Qiao Guanxing made a last-ditch effort: “Y-Your Highness, I really regret my actions.”

Zhou Jingyuan’s grip on his wrist tightened slightly. After a pause, he replied with a cold laugh, “I don’t see it.”

Well, struggling failed. Qiao Guanxing lowered his head, glancing at the hand being held, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite define.

Muttering, he said, “Your Highness, I can walk on my own.”

Zhou Jingyuan stopped in his tracks but didn’t release his hand. “Fine. Walk, then.”

Resigned to his fate as a prisoner, Qiao Guanxing asked with pragmatic acceptance, “The dungeons or the storerooms?”

Zhou Jingyuan’s tone was matter-of-fact: “My bedchamber.”