Chapter 58
A BUTCHER IN SUI CITY who now went by the name Zhu Yongxin would be key to exposing Shen Huaishi to the truth as soon as possible. According to Gu Fuzhou, Zhu Yongxin had been a mole for the Tianyu Sect during his stint as a member of the Tianji Guard; he’d concealed his identity so well that it was never revealed, even when his sect was destroyed.
Zhu Yongxin and Shen Huaishi were that devastating massacre’s only two survivors. Zhu Yongxin had thought about telling Shen Huaishi the truth, only to be utterly crushed when Shen Huaishi joined the Tianji Guard. After that, Zhu Yongxin dared not remain in the Tianji Guard, so he feigned his death during a mission and escaped to Sui City in Xu Prefecture. There, he lived in hiding as an ordinary butcher.
In Huai’s Revenge on the Monarch, Zhu Yongxin had told Shen Huaishi the truth in its entirety the day before Xiao Cheng took the throne. Lin Qingyu wanted to move that conversation up—the earlier, the better.
After getting his hands on the jade plaque that belonged to the Tianyu Sect, Shen Huaishi had wanted to head to Sui City in search of its owner as soon as possible. He had to delay his trip again and again, though, as Xiao Cheng forbade him to leave the capital.
They could have had Zhang Shiquan escort Zhu Yongxin to the capital if not for Zhu Yongxin’s cautiousness; he was wary of entering the capital without good reason. And Zhu Yongxin was well-versed in martial arts, so what could Zhang Shiquan—a mere steward—possibly do to him?
“Leave this to me,” Gu Fuzhou said. “I’ll have him escorted to the capital.”
“How are you planning to do that?” Lin Qingyu asked.
“I have my ways,” Gu Fuzhou said with a chuckle. “You don’t become a great general out of nowhere.”
“Didn’t you, though?”
“I did become a great general out of nowhere,” Gu Fuzhou realized abruptly.
Xu Prefecture was far from the capital; it would take at least a fortnight to get there and back. Throughout those two weeks, the emperor and empress summoned Gu Fuzhou repeatedly to the palace for various reasons, forcing him to meet multiple eligible women. Aside from the seventh princess, there was also the prime minister’s granddaughter, the daughter of the minister of national defense, the niece of the crown prince’s attendant—all relatives of civil officials.
Once the lingering poison in his body had been neutralized, Gu Fuzhou should have gone back to leading his army in Yongliang. Before he set out for the capital, he had led a massive victory against Western Xia, forcing the enemy to lick its wounds and prepare for future warfare.
After Gu Fuzhou departed, Deputy General Zhao Mingwei was tasked with guarding the borders. He didn’t win every single battle he fought, unlike Gu Fuzhou, but he was certainly an equally capable general. With Zhao Mingwei present, Western Xia surely wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble for the moment—hence the emperor’s insistence that Gu Fuzhou stay in the capital until his matrimonial affairs were settled.
Now that Gu Fuzhou was in good health, he was required to attend court meetings alongside other military officials, plunging him into an abyss of suffering once again after a tragically brief vacation.
As Lin Qingyu bustled around his workplace, he was forced to devote some attention to Gu Fuzhou’s numerous rants and complaints. He weaved through bookshelves in the library, putting medical texts he’d finished reading back in place as Gu Fuzhou persistently trailed right behind him.
“I really can’t do this anymore, Qingyu,” he whined.
Lin Qingyu didn’t even deign to look at him. “What is it this time?”
“This morning, just as the roosters started to crow, Yuan Yin woke me up for morning court. Then I was stuck in Qinzheng Hall, forced to listen to hours of useless drivel until it was finally lunchtime.
“After that, they wouldn’t let me take a nap at home—I was supposed to accompany the empress to an opera performance with the great-granddaughter of Elder Sun from Hanlin Academy. Even donkeys in a mill don’t have to work all day like this.” Gu Fuzhou covered his face in agony. “Middle-aged men are already prone to hair loss. I’m going to go bald if this continues.”
Despite knowing that it would be futile, Lin Qingyu offered some perfunctory advice: “‘When the heavens are about to confer great responsibility on a man, he is first put through mental suffering, physical exhaustion, and starvation.’12 In comparison to that, this is nothing.”
Unable to reach the highest shelf, Lin Qingyu was about to bring a ladder over, but Gu Fuzhou took the text he held—Fundamentals of Surgery—and reshelved it for him. “I know you’re right, but I still don’t want to listen to that.”
Once he’d put back all the books, Lin Qingyu sat down and spread an old diagnostic record open on his desk. “You could feign sickness.”
“Wouldn’t I be guilty of deceiving the emperor?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be your first time committing that crime.”
Gu Fuzhou sat down beside Lin Qingyu. “Qingyu, I didn’t tell you all that because I wanted to hear you reason with me and offer solutions,” he said slowly.
“What do you want, then?” Lin Qingyu asked, perplexed.
“Comfort and a hug,” Gu Fuzhou said candidly.
Lin Qingyu had nothing to say back to that.
“I’m sure you won’t hug me, but comfort would be nice, at least.” Gu Fuzhou slumped on the desk listlessly. “I’m so tired.”
Lin Qingyu glanced around. It was almost curfew, and they were the only people in the library. He was the only one allowed to see Gu Fuzhou’s “salted fish” side—that way, the general’s dignity was preserved.
Gu Fuzhou was right, though; Lin Qingyu didn’t want to hug him. Still, comforting him was fine. His hand lightly covered Gu Fuzhou’s, which the general had placed casually on the desk.
Gu Fuzhou’s eyes widened slightly in shock. He was an eighteen-year-old boy in a thirty-year-old man’s body, after all.
Feeling Gu Fuzhou’s hand gradually stiffen under his, Lin Qingyu smiled. “Just bear with it a while longer,” he said gently. “Once everything goes as planned, we can have the new emperor transfer you to a ceremonial post, and you can earn a high salary without attending court meetings or discussing political affairs. You can sleep in as long as you want every day, drink wine and admire flowers while you’re awake, and go back for a nap when you’re tired. Does that sound good?”
Only one word came out of Gu Fuzhou’s mouth—a stark contrast to his long rant mere moments earlier. “Yes.”