The Minister of Rites’ mansion became noisy in the deep of night-the sound of pounding on doors, rummaging through boxes, and waves of panic and suppressed sobbing echoed throughout. The Minister of Rites came from a noble family, with a large household; some were terrified, others argued with the soldiers for a long time, but aside from straining their voices, it did no good.
Some tried to slip out to deliver a message, but the mansion was surrounded so tightly that there was no chance to escape.
Soon, people realized these soldiers weren’t just looking for assassins. If they were, they’d only search people or obvious hiding places, but these men were rifling through bookshelves and flipping through ledgers-what was the meaning of that?
The Minister’s wife sensed something was wrong, but every time she tried to speak, she met Chu Zhao’s icy gaze.
The courtyard was lit by torches and palace lanterns, and Prince Qin’s eyes were cold and silent in the night. Just one look from him was enough to chill her to the bone-she knew nothing she said would help.
Even though Chu Zhao had ridden hard from the hunting grounds, he was still furious. If the assassins had only targeted him, he could have endured it, but the first two arrows had aimed at Shen Ziqin as well.
The more he thought about it, the colder his anger became.
He wanted to have a good talk with that reckless Shen Ziqin about valuing his own life, but there was still business to do.
Chu Zhao’s fingers rested on his sword hilt, rubbing it silently.
“Your Highness!”
A soldier hurried over, a little nervous, swallowing hard: “We’ve found some letters and account books. The contents… you’ll need to see them yourself.”
Chu Zhao’s hand paused-they’d found it.
The soldier had clearly already seen what was inside and knew how important it was, so he didn’t dare act on his own.
Chu Zhao nodded. “Lead the way.”
As they walked from the front courtyard to the back, passing through the garden, a strong earthy smell hit Chu Zhao. He frowned.
There hadn’t been any rain lately, so there shouldn’t have been that smell-it was as if the earth had just been freshly turned… Chu Zhao stopped in his tracks.
Wait, freshly turned earth?
Chu Zhao whipped his head around.
Only this stretch of path had that earthy smell, which meant only one area had been recently turned over. Maybe they were renovating gradually and had only managed to finish this patch for now.
But as the saying goes: since we’re here, might as well check everywhere.
They’d searched the whole place-why skip this spot?
Chu Zhao stopped, and the others naturally stopped with him. He stared at a section of the garden and said, “The smell here is so strong. A few of you, dig it up and take a look.”
The others immediately understood that Chu Zhao suspected something was buried there and hurried to comply.
There was no need to fetch shovels; the strong soldiers just used their weapons to dig. After about half a meter, their blades hit something hard. Spirits lifted, and in a few more strokes, they cleared away the remaining dirt.
Two large chests were revealed.
When the lids were pried open, the contents dazzled everyone in the night.
Both chests were packed full-one with gold, jade, and jewels, the other with neatly stacked silver notes, the sum even exceeding the disaster relief funds for an entire province last year by several times.
The soldiers were stunned by the sheer amount of wealth.
The Minister of Rites always boasted of being an honest official, living simply, but where did all these treasures and silver notes come from-did the breeze just blow them in?
Chu Zhao: “Ha.”
He reached in, pulled out a white jade bracelet, and held it up to the light-flawless, excellent quality. He smiled, “The Minister sure is generous. Even the palace doesn’t have many pieces this fine. Truly an eye-opener for us all.”
His tone was light, but there was no smile in his eyes. The surroundings fell silent; no one dared make a sound.
Chu Zhao rubbed the smooth jade, thinking how well it would suit the little marquis’s fair skin… No, the marquis’s wrist was even prettier than this bracelet.
He smiled to himself for a moment, then casually tossed the bracelet back into the chest.
“Seal it up,” Chu Zhao said quietly. “This is the kind of thing that dooms a minister’s entire clan.”
The night grew deeper.
Chu Zhao turned the Minister of Rites’ mansion upside down, sealed away the evidence and loot, and only took two letters back to the hunting grounds: one was secret correspondence with other officials, the other with foreign contacts.
The assassins hadn’t been caught yet, but when the emperor saw the letters Chu Zhao brought back, he flew into a rage.
The Minister of Rites and the Deputy Grand Secretary’s faction were caught completely off guard. The minister’s legs went weak, but he recovered quickly, already spouting excuses. Emperor Cheng’an wouldn’t listen-he ordered everyone to return to the capital immediately and begin a night-long investigation.
Never mind colluding with other officials-treason was a threat to the entire nation. How could Emperor Cheng’an sleep before getting to the bottom of it?
Chu Zhao had been busy all night, rushing everywhere, but showed no sign of fatigue. Still full of energy, he headed to Shen Ziqin’s tent and ran into his second brother on the way.
Chu Zhaoyu sat in a wheelchair, being pushed along, and called out to the travel-worn Chu Zhao: “I heard Ziqin was badly frightened and took some medicine to sleep. How is he?”
Chu Zhao paused his hurried steps, glanced at the imperial guards around, and nodded, “Thank you for your concern, brother. He didn’t have a relapse, and before sleeping, he chatted with me for a while. After I finish up tonight, I’ll stay with him-nothing will let him sleep more peacefully.”
Chu Zhaoyu smiled gently. “That’s good. The Court of Judicial Review will be busy these next few days. When he wakes, give him my regards.”
With just a few words, the brothers exchanged all the important news. Chu Zhaoyu immediately knew it was Shen Ziqin who had advised Chu Zhao; tonight’s events were orchestrated perfectly. If not for being outside, he’d have applauded.
Shen Ziqin’s quick thinking meant they didn’t have to wait years for another chance like this.
Such a good strategist and consort-Chu Zhao should cherish him well.
Because there were many people around, Chu Zhaoyu could only speak indirectly: “He cares deeply for you. It’s right that you help him feel secure-be good to him, always.”
Chu Zhao understood instantly: Even second brother could see the little marquis liked him.
He nodded solemnly: “I understand all his feelings.”
All his feelings? Looks like sixth brother really has figured things out-no wonder he even climbed over the wall in the middle of the night. Chu Zhaoyu was pleased: “That’s good.”
He had his attendant wheel him away, and Chu Zhao headed straight into Shen Ziqin’s tent.
All the officials were ordered to return at once, so every tent was lit up as people were woken and hurriedly packed. When Chu Zhao entered, he found Shen Ziqin already asleep, still in his clothes, hugging a pillow.
Clearly, Shen Ziqin hadn’t planned to sleep, just wanted to wait for him-but ended up dozing off anyway.
All the frustration Chu Zhao had bottled up tonight, stoked even more at the Minister of Rites’ mansion, vanished the moment he saw Shen Ziqin.
A heart honed like a blade went soft.
Shen Ziqin slept peacefully, and Chu Zhao’s heart quieted with him. He watched for a while, unwilling to wake him.
Chu Zhao reached out and gently tugged at the pillow in Shen Ziqin’s arms, but found he was holding it tight and wouldn’t let go.
If he couldn’t pull it away, then-he’d just do it directly.
When the tent flap lifted again, the guards saw the prince and marquis coming out together.
The prince was carrying the marquis, and the marquis was still hugging… his pillow.
Everyone stared in shock at the unusual sight.
Chu Zhao cleared his throat and said nothing, just nodded toward the tent: Stop staring and get packing!
The crowd snapped back to attention and hurried to pack up. Because Shen Ziqin was sleeping, the Prince Qin’s camp was far quieter than the others, which were bustling with activity.
Who could bear to disturb the little marquis’s sweet dreams?
At first, Shen Ziqin really had meant to wait for Chu Zhao to return, so he could get an update right away.
But the bed was just too comfortable, and after a late night and not enough rest during the day, he’d drifted off while waiting.
Shen Ziqin dreamed a wonderful dream.
In it, both the Grand Secretary and Deputy Grand Secretary were gone, Chu Zhao was full of life, and he happily started packing to move out of the Prince Qin’s residence.
Early retirement-he was finally going to live a carefree, comfortable life!
He looked around the room, first checking what he needed to pack.
Clothes, of course-every piece he owned now had been made for him by Chu Zhao.
The set of brushes, ink, and inkstone he used in the study-he liked those too. Ah, also gifts from Chu Zhao.
Jade pendants, sachets, hairpins… As he packed, Shen Ziqin gradually slowed down.
It seemed that everything around him was connected to Chu Zhao.
If he left Prince Qin’s residence, he’d be far away from Chu Zhao.
Shen Ziqin felt a bit lost, a vague sense of melancholy rising in his chest: If he left Prince Qin’s residence, where would he go?
The Marquis of Yin Nan’s estate?
But what was the point of being there alone?
Just then, Xiao Zhen brought him a piece of paper, smiling as he said, “Marquis, congratulations! Here’s the divorce agreement you’ve been waiting for-just needs your signature!”
He’d been waiting for this, yes, but why did his chest feel even more stifled, and why did he have no desire at all to reach out and take it?
Xiao Zhen stepped forward, holding out the paper: “Marquis, please sign.”
For some reason, Shen Ziqin felt a sudden resistance and unconsciously took a step back-only to find his foot slipping, and he fell backward.
Shen Ziqin: !
The sensation of falling jolted him awake from his dream.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw… Chu Zhao’s chin.
Shen Ziqin, dazed: Huh?
His heart was still pounding from the shock, and the panic in his eyes quickly turned to confusion. His mind, not fully awake, was sluggish-who am I, where am I?
Why was Chu Zhao so close to him, and why did he feel a gentle rocking?
Gentle rocking?
Chu Zhao hadn’t expected Shen Ziqin to wake up; he thought he was holding him steadily, so he looked down and met Shen Ziqin’s bewildered gaze. “…You’re awake?”
Shen Ziqin didn’t reply right away. He unconsciously tightened his arms, felt the pillow in his hands, glanced at it, then looked at Chu Zhao.
Then, as if finally coming to his senses, he shivered, and the haze in his eyes cleared.
Shen Ziqin realized his situation at last.
He was being carried by Chu Zhao in a princess carry!!
Shen Ziqin’s eyes went wide, like a startled deer. Chu Zhao, seeing this, felt both fond and nervous; he’d been calm a moment ago, but now, inexplicably flustered, he quickened his steps.
Shen Ziqin was now fully awake: “Wait, Your Highness, put me down-I can walk!”
Chu Zhao didn’t move. “It’s just a few more steps.”
That’s not the point! Shen Ziqin screamed internally.
The previous times he’d been princess-carried, Shen Ziqin hadn’t been awake. This time, waking up halfway, both he and Chu Zhao were flustered.
It was one thing to move a sleeping person, but carrying someone who was wide awake was a whole different matter.
For the first time in his life, Shen Ziqin was so embarrassed he wanted to find a hole to crawl into-he even thought about jumping down.
But if Chu Zhao didn’t let go and he forced his way down, wouldn’t that be even more awkward?
Dreaming of divorce, only to wake up in the arms of the very person in question.
The contrast was a bit much, and the night felt especially ambiguous.
Shen Ziqin’s heart was pounding so loudly it wouldn’t settle, and leaning against Chu Zhao’s chest, he couldn’t tell whether the heartbeat thundering in his ears was his own or Chu Zhao’s.
…Wasn’t it too loud for the middle of the night?
Shen Ziqin really had woken up in the prince’s residence, and there were only a few steps left to his room, but those few steps felt unusually long. When they finally reached the room and Chu Zhao set him down, both of them let out a very clear sigh of relief.
It was so clear that they both paused, looked at each other, and Shen Ziqin, still hugging his pillow, shrank back onto the bed.
Chu Zhao’s throat bobbed-was it from exhaustion after a long night, or something else? His voice was hoarse: “You-”
“Don’t overthink it,” Shen Ziqin cut him off, not giving him a chance to say more. He tightened his grip on the pillow and said softly, “That’s what you wanted to say, right?”
Chu Zhao’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t speak.
Shen Ziqin’s hands trembled slightly as he hugged the pillow: Your Highness, do you realize your feelings for me are completely exposed?
And you still tell me not to overthink it-I really can’t help it.
Hugging his pillow, Shen Ziqin curled up on the bed, thinking sadly: Ah, looks like I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Haha , little marquis, u don’t know what u have agreed to… more than u can bargain for 😂😂😂 🤓🤓🤓