Chapter 27
THAT MUSCULAR SHOULDER was firm and solid, and the impact made Jiang Suizhou see stars.
A hand quickly gripped Jiang Suizhou’s arm and pulled him upright. His head was spinning, and the hand’s tight grasp was so strong that it actually hurt a little bit, but it kept him steady enough to regain his bearings.
“Sit properly,” he heard Huo Wujiu say.
Jiang Suizhou awkwardly rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and indifferent.
Huo Wujiu gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.
As the carriage moved, the silence quickly filled with the sounds of the wheels rolling and the wind rustling the curtains. Slowly, the awkward atmosphere eased a bit.
After a moment, Jiang Suizhou sneaked a glance at Huo Wujiu.
He was slightly turned away, his gaze calm as he looked out the window. The curtain fluttered, letting in a few drops of rain. Faint light from outside fell on Huo Wujiu’s face, casting warm dapples of glow on his cheeks.
Jiang Suizhou couldn’t tell if it was his imagination, but Huo Wujiu’s lips seemed unusually pale.
The dimness inside the carriage made it hard to be sure.
He couldn’t help but look a few more times.
Finally, Huo Wujiu slowly turned to gaze back to Jiang Suizhou.
Caught in the act, Jiang Suizhou paused to think of how to resolve this.
“Are you cold?” he asked stiffly.
It shouldn’t be cold. It was already past early spring, and although the rain outside was a bit chilly, it shouldn’t be a problem for Huo Wujiu. After all, not everyone had a body as fragile as Jiang Suizhou’s.
“No.”
Huo Wujiu’s gaze subtly shifted to his own legs.
They had been aching faintly since the rain started that morning. He’d already grown accustomed to the pain, but it had suddenly intensified after he left the residence.
It felt as if someone were pressing a saw or a blunt axe into his meridians and pulling down on the entire leg, like some kind of torture method. The agony was so intense that even his scalp felt numb, and his hands clenched into tight fists resting on his knees.
Of course, there was no need to reveal this to Jiang Suizhou. It would only alarm him.
However, the Prince of Jing seemed particularly eager to strike up a conversation with him. His nervous, distracted behavior had not escaped Huo Wujiu’s notice. And now here he was secretly staring at him as well. What exactly did the man want from him?
“And you?” he asked in return. “Are you cold?”
Jiang Suizhou shook his head.
“I asked because I noticed that you kept looking outside, so I thought it might be because the wind is a bit chilly.”
Huo Wujiu let out a low laugh.
“Why was that your first guess?” he teased, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And not that I wanted to escape?”
The softly fluttering curtain caused the light in his eyes to flicker in such a way that, for a brief moment, Jiang Suizhou could swear he saw a playful glint within them.
Jiang Suizhou froze. Panicked, he quickly turned back to the window.
“Go ahead and try, then. We’ll just see if the emperor has people secretly watching you,” he said, struggling to keep his tone flat and unaffected.
…Was that really all it took to fluster the prince so?
Huo Wujiu looked away, and the smile on his lips deepened slightly.
✦ ✦ ✦
The carriage came to a halt outside Kaiyang Gate.
As Jiang Suizhou stepped down, he noticed that many other carriages were already parked nearby. The place was bustling with activity as court officials continued to arrive with their families.
Instantly, Jiang Suizhou felt the weight of numerous eyes upon him. Not just him, though, but also on the carriage behind him—everyone was waiting to catch a glimpse of Huo Wujiu.
Jiang Suizhou’s expression was detached and arrogant as he stood by the carriage, watching the servants quickly step forward to help move Huo Wujiu’s wheelchair.
The movement of the crowd had slowed to a crawl. Jiang Suizhou frowned impatiently.
You want to watch the show, huh? Fine, I’ll give you a show.
“Hurry up!” he barked at the servants. “How long do you expect me to wait?”
The servants bowed and apologized as they hurriedly helped Huo Wujiu down from the carriage.
Jiang Suizhou swept his cold gaze over the surrounding officials. He projected a demeanor of extreme irritability, as if he might lash out at any moment. Immediately, the crowd averted their gazes, pretended they hadn’t seen anything, and dispersed.
Satisfied, Jiang Suizhou turned away, clasped his hands behind his back, and strode through Kaiyang Gate.
Meng Qianshan followed, pushing Huo Wujiu’s wheelchair.
The Prince of Jing seemed to be in a sour mood, on the verge of erupting at the slightest wrong. Even the chattiest ministers refrained from approaching him to exchange pleasantries. As a result, their journey proceeded with little disturbance.
However, the stares continued unabated. Some were discreet, others shameless, but just about everyone shot at least one glance at the man in the wheelchair behind him.
Huo Wujiu.
Until recently, that very name had struck fear into every heart in Southern Jing. It was a harbinger of death.
This was the man who’d led his troops from Yangguan all the way to Yecheng to drive them out of their ancestral lands. He was the reason that they’d been pushed south of the great river.
Late last year, he’d again rallied an army. He led tens of thousands of troops to the river’s edge, poised to cross and destroy their Great Jing. But the river was easy to defend and hard to invade, and on top of that, Northern Liang’s main forces had inexplicably failed to follow the vanguard. Seizing this opportunity, the defending general surrounded Huo Wujiu’s thousand-strong army.
Even so, the battle dragged on for seven or eight days, and it was only when the invading troops ran out of supplies that Southern Jing managed to capture Huo Wujiu.
What did this mean for Great Jing?
It meant that despite having one foot in the grave, they’d managed to take down Wuchang, who’d come to demand their souls.
This deity had been broken and beaten into submission, and now it was time to parade him around the emperor’s birthday banquet as if he were a family member of the Prince of Jing.
Naturally, nearly everyone was curious to see what death incarnate looked like now that he was merely a man in a wheelchair.
However, Huo Wujiu was nothing like the brutish, bearded figure they’d imagined him to be. On the contrary, he was an exceptionally handsome man.
His pallid face and tall, slender frame made him look almost vulnerable as he sat quietly in his wheelchair, yet his posture remained rigid and proud. He was dressed simply, but he exuded a sharpness like an unsheathed blade, encouraging people around him to keep their distance.
That atmosphere shifted slightly as Jiang Suizhou caught sight of a man in his peripheral vision.
Tall and burly, he looked like a bandit who had crawled out of the mountains only to find himself stuffed into a set of wide-sleeved ceremonial robes. His bearing combined with his dark skin made him impossible to ignore, especially when his red-rimmed eyes filled with sorrow and indignation as he stared unswervingly at Jiang Suizhou.
Oh, Ji Hongcheng’s here, Jiang Suizhou thought as he took a deep, silent breath.
Ji Hongcheng was a rash and straightforward man. Seeing Huo Wujiu now, he might say or do something unpredictable.
Jiang Suizhou prepared himself, waiting for Ji Hongcheng to make a scene.
As anticipated, Ji Hongcheng strode toward him, his robes billowing in his wake. He looked like a black bear that had stumbled into a fabric shop, draped in silk and poised to pounce and devour.
But he stopped three steps away from Jiang Suizhou.
Jiang Suizhou paused and frowned at him. But Ji Hongcheng only stood there, motionless.
…What was he doing?
Ji Hongcheng glared fiercely at him with his large, bell-like eyes for a few intense seconds, before he abruptly turned and walked away. The delicate-looking lady beside him hastened after him as she bowed apologetically to Jiang Suizhou, who was simply puzzled.
He just left? What was that all about?
Jiang Suizhou glanced at him in confusion. Perhaps the man didn’t dare to cause a scene at the emperor’s birthday banquet.
Unbeknownst to him, a tiny ball of paper no larger than a fly had shot through the air like an arrow and landed squarely on Ji Hongcheng’s chest, falling into his arms as he approached.
No one noticed this tiny object, nor did anyone see who’d thrown it.
No one, that was, except Ji Hongcheng himself, who hurried off to hide in the restroom where he carefully unfolded the paper ball.
It was a note written in bold, forceful strokes that were unmistakably General Huo’s handwriting.
“Stop sending letters. Bide your time.
When Lou Yue returns to the capital, send a willow branch.”
Ji Hongcheng immediately understood what he meant.
So even without Ji Hongcheng telling him, General Huo had already made plans. His inaction was simply a matter of waiting for the right moment.
And that moment depended on one man: General Lou.
But General Lou was fiercely loyal to the emperor, and General Huo had rebelled. Would General Lou really help him?
Ji Hongcheng felt a little uneasy deep down. He stuffed the slip of paper into his mouth and swallowed it.