PCA Chapter 225

Fireworks exploded overhead in brilliant splendor, but Su Cen had no time to appreciate them, staring unblinkingly at that small area by the wall corner.

 

Moments later, the smoke cleared to reveal a wall that had mostly collapsed.

 

These past days, each time he came he would carry a little gunpowder, hiding it in the artificial mountain by Dragon Pool. Over half a month, he had secretly accumulated half a sack while avoiding the gate guards and Li Shi, finally putting it to use today.

 

He had blown up Xingqing Palace.

 

The sound mixed with the continuous firecrackers throughout Chang’an, the smoke dissipating into the boundless night. The once-impregnable Xingqing Palace had been his most comforting place, but now it had become a cage confining them. Today he had personally blown it up—from now on, he would be Li Shi’s fortress.

 

After the smoke cleared, deliberately lowered voices came from beyond the wall: “Why such a commotion?”

 

Ning Santong poked his head out from behind the wall, clicking his tongue twice at the rubble covering the ground: “I heard that when the Prince renovated Xingqing Palace, he used bricks from frontier city walls, each with the supervising craftsman’s name on it. Breaking one brick meant one life—guess how many people died from your explosion?”

 

“Come help,” Su Cen ignored Ning Santong’s teasing and helped Li Shi up from the ground. He had put triple the dose of knockout drug in the food—despite such a loud commotion, Li Shi only frowned slightly without waking.

 

The two supported Li Shi as they stepped over the debris. A carriage was already prepared outside the wall, stocked with dry provisions and travel money, waiting for the city gates to open tomorrow so they could completely leave this troubled land.

 

For this trip, Ning Santong hadn’t dared alert even his servants, driving the carriage himself. It moved slowly along Xingqing Palace’s rear wall, afraid of disturbing the patrolling guards. Only after reaching Zhuque Avenue did the pace quicken slightly.

 

Su Cen lowered his head to quietly gaze at Li Shi’s face, gently twisting a strand of Li Shi’s black hair between his fingers, his thoughts drifting farther away.

 

Li Shi would probably blame him when he woke—for being improper, disregarding the bigger picture, ignoring national security and the state. He accepted being called a petty person seeking only profit, accepted being called a national criminal, but he couldn’t watch Li Shi die. In this life of merely three thousand strands of hair, when one couldn’t even manage present struggles, why worry about posthumous infamy?

 

Tonight was New Year’s Eve, with myriad lights illuminating the streams. Occasional firecracker sounds came from various places as ordinary families welcomed the new year and kept vigil, gathered together with no one sleeping. He and Li Shi were keeping each other company in this small carriage compartment—this too was complete.

 

“Why does our Ning family always end up with jobs like this?” Ning Santong complained quietly from outside. “Years ago, grandfather felt grateful for Crown Prince Chongde’s kindness and secretly sent Li Sheng away overnight. Now it’s my turn.”

 

A voice from the carriage responded: “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet. Tomorrow morning when Li Sheng discovers you blew up Xingqing Palace and realizes you tricked him, he’ll definitely fly into a rage and hunt you down with everything he has. You’d better run fast and not get caught again.”

 

“Once we’re out of Chang’an, he can’t do anything to us,” Su Cen said. Though Li Sheng held power, his influence was mainly concentrated in the capital. Local situations were complex, and there was a time lag between policy transmission and implementation. Moreover, the person Li Sheng wanted to arrest was the current regent prince, making the relationships even more intriguing. He then asked worriedly: “After you escort us out of the city, how will you get back?”

 

“Don’t worry about me—I have my ways. Even if I’m truly exposed, grandfather will stand up for me,” Ning Santong reached into the carriage and pulled out a package from his chest, handing it to Su Cen. “Yu Gui asked me to give this to you.”

 

Su Cen took it and opened it, stunned by what he saw inside. On bright yellow silk with black characters was a travel pass document, but it bore Li Sheng’s princely seal.

 

“How could she…” Su Cen immediately understood. “This is forged?”

 

“She locked herself in her room for several days to forge this. When she gave it to me, her hands were shaking,” Ning Santong said. “With this, you have another way out. If worst comes to worst, escape beyond the passes.”

 

Su Cen pressed his lips lightly: “Please thank Miss Shen for me.”

 

When they reached the city gate, it was still dark. Ning Santong stopped the carriage at a distance, planning to drive up once the gates opened.

 

In the carriage, Li Shi stirred slightly, showing signs of awakening.

 

Li Shi had long relied on calming incense to sleep, so he had some resistance to sedatives. Even though Su Cen had increased the dose, it could no longer suppress him.

 

After a while, those eyes indeed trembled open.

 

“Your Highness…” Su Cen was three parts guilty and five parts panicked, unconsciously averting his gaze, not daring to meet those eyes.

 

Li Shi opened his eyes and looked at him for a moment without saying a word, then frowned and closed them again.

 

The knockout drug’s effects hadn’t worn off yet. Being able to force his eyes open was already his limit, let alone speaking.

 

Su Cen now understood. His gaze tentatively returned, and realizing Li Shi was at his weakest, he boldly reached out to gently cover those eyes. His palm rested on the lightly trembling eyelashes, only then daring to continue gazing unrestrained at that face.

 

“Don’t blame me,” that hoarse voice pleaded. “Give me a little more time—half a year at most. I’ll bring you back.”

 

That hand wearing the thumb ring was gently lifted. Su Cen threaded his fingers through the gaps, interlocking their fingers. The palm was warm, the fingertips bearing a thin layer of calluses, unusually compliant to his manipulation. “You arranged everything for everyone else but never considered whether I could bear it. If you leave, my Chang’an will collapse too. Where would you have me settle and make my living?”

 

“Consider this half year as indulging me. I won’t hold against you how much your plans calculated me in, nor how many times you abandoned me. After half a year, we’ll be even. Whether you go or stay, I absolutely won’t force you.”

 

“Just take pity on me, will you?”

 

That hand was guided forward, and something cold and smooth brushed against the back of his hand—unsurprisingly touching tears all over it.

 

Ning Santong gently knocked on the carriage wall from outside: “The gates are open.”

 

Only then did Su Cen collect himself, cleared his throat: “Let’s go.”

 

The carriage slowly moved forward and stopped at the city gate.

 

The gate guard recognized the Imperial Tutor’s carriage, and seeing Ning Santong driving personally, he already had a guess about who was inside.

 

“Is the Imperial Tutor going out so early to worship ancestors again?”

 

“Indeed,” Ning Santong rubbed his arms and smiled at the man. “In this dead of winter, he knows to order us youngsters around. It’s coldest right now—I’m freezing to death.”

 

The gate guard didn’t dare delay and quickly opened the city gates. Ning Santong urged the carriage forward. Just as Su Cen was about to relax, he suddenly heard a voice from behind.

 

“So early in the morning, where are you all going?”

 

Su Cen’s heart sank, immediately going cold.

 

It was Song Fan.

 

It wasn’t yet dawn, so Li Sheng shouldn’t have discovered what happened at Xingqing Palace, or the entire city’s troops would already be in chaos. Song Fan appearing here—was he lying in wait, or was this just a coincidence?

 

Song Fan stepped forward and lectured the gate guard: “How can you just let people through without inspection?”

 

The gate guard felt wronged: “This is the Imperial Tutor’s carriage. Imperial Tutor Ning goes out to worship ancestors every New Year’s Day.”

 

“The Imperial Tutor’s carriage?” Song Fan turned to look at Ning Santong. “Perfect. I’ve been in the capital so long but haven’t visited the residence yet. Today’s a good opportunity to pay New Year’s respects to Imperial Tutor Ning.”

 

He moved to lift the carriage curtain.

 

“You dare!” Ning Santong reached out to stop him. “The old master just finished keeping vigil and is about to sleep. Don’t disturb him.”

 

“I won’t make a sound,” Song Fan pressed his finger to his lips and smiled lightly. “I’ll just take a look at the old Imperial Tutor’s distinguished countenance.”

 

That hand reached out again. Su Cen could even see Song Fan’s fingertips, but Ning Santong roughly pulled it back.

 

His fingertips were ice-cold, his lips pale, gripping a dagger in his arms and trembling.

 

Only when he felt continuous warmth from his hand did he slightly come to his senses. Looking down, he saw Li Shi was still sleeping, but his fingertips were gently rubbing against the back of Su Cen’s hand.

 

Su Cen pressed his lips together, gradually calming down. Right now he could only trust Ning Santong completely, trust that he could protect this carriage curtain from Song Fan.

 

“How dare you,” Ning Santong jumped down from the carriage to confront Song Fan. “The old master is a minister who served four dynasties. Not just some Prince Yu—even Crown Prince Chongde’s father, Emperor Taizu, was served by the old master. You bastard from who knows where, how dare you make such a scene here! If you’re truly sincere, come another day with a proper calling card to pay your respects. Whether he’ll see you depends on the old master’s mood!”

 

“You…” Song Fan hated most when people called him a bastard. The sword in his hand creaked as he gripped it, squinting those peach blossom eyes while considering whether to spill blood on the spot.

 

As the two sides faced off, a childish voice suddenly came from behind.

 

“Daddy…”

 

Both turned to look back and saw Huang Wan’er holding her son at the city gate. Meeting Song Fan’s gaze, her face went pale as she scolded her son: “Qiong’er, how many times have I told you not to call everyone daddy?”

 

The little child opened his mouth to argue but could only babble incoherently. Two golden tears welled up in his eyes but he forcibly held them back.

 

Song Fan’s eyes lit up seeing the little child. He immediately forgot about the Imperial Tutor and turned to torment his son again.

 

Ning Santong imperceptibly sighed in relief, jumped onto the carriage, and whipped the horses to leave.

 

Only when Chang’an’s city gates were no longer visible did the carriage stop again. The sky was just beginning to brighten with few travelers on the road.

 

“Thank you,” Su Cen lifted the curtain and poked his head out, but his hand still gripped Li Shi tightly. “Really, thank you.”

 

“Enough, save those words for when you return,” Ning Santong jumped down from the carriage and waved at Su Cen. “Take good care of yourself.”

 

Su Cen nodded, watching Ning Santong’s figure disappear into the thin morning mist before lowering the curtain and withdrawing his gaze.

 

He lifted that hand to his lips and kissed it gently: “From now on, with vast skies and boundless seas, we are both exiles.”

 

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