AEOGA CH45

Yunzhou.

With the massive stir Xie Chongjin and Lu Xuechao had created in Quling, the Prefect of Yunzhou had long since caught wind of the news. The moment the imperial envoy entourage entered Yunzhou’s borders, the Prefect of Yunzhou led all his subordinates in kneeling to welcome them, his face filled with deference: “This servant pays respects to Your Majesty, and pays respects to Your Highness the Empress.”

Yet cold sweat drenched his back.

This was not the Emperor’s first time touring the south; because an imperial villa was built in Yunzhou, the Prefect of Yunzhou had to receive the imperial carriage every year. In past years when the Emperor inspected the south, he would bring a flock of consorts, enjoying himself thoroughly for half a month before returning to the capital in July. The Prefect of Yunzhou had been more than happy to play host—before every imperial arrival, he had an excuse to unscrupulously squeeze the people’s wealth, claiming he needed the entire province’s resources to receive the Sovereign, lest it be deemed a grave disrespect to His Majesty.

Every south-bound tour by the monarch drained the people and wasted resources, leaving the populace harboring resentments they dared not voice. Little did they know that Xie Chongjin took all the blame for the ruin, while most of the fortunes slid straight into the local prefect’s pockets. What the Prefect of Yunzhou looked forward to most was the monarch heading south every June.

This wasn’t an Emperor arriving; this was the God of Wealth coming to town.

This year, the Prefect of Yunzhou had intended to act as usual, but the moment news arrived from Quling, he was instantly scared sober.

His Majesty had brought no consorts this year; instead, he had brought the legendary, exceptionally resourceful Empress along. The moment the pair reached Quling, they investigated and punished every single official—from the prefect at the top to the county magistrate at the bottom—leaving no survivors.

This wasn’t the God of Wealth arriving; this was the God of Death coming to claim him.

If not for the fear of sealing his own guilt on charges of fleeing from prosecution, he practically would have packed up his riches and run away in the dead of night.

In the end, the Prefect of Yunzhou had the mind of a thief but lacked the courage; for now, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and receive the imperial carriage.

Xie Chongjin looked down with a cold, indifferent gaze. Since he did not grant permission to rise, the Prefect of Yunzhou dared not stand up.

He and this prefect could be considered old acquaintances. Not just in this lifetime, but counting the previous lives, he had seen this person countless times.

In past years during the southern tours, the Prefect of Yunzhou had been extravagantly decadent and wasteful just to entertain him. Xie Chongjin had long developed a deep disgust for him, knowing full well that he was a corrupt official. Yet, controlled by others back then, he had been unable to thoroughly investigate, let alone punish him. Beyond enjoying “pleasures” in the imperial villa and “touring” places that had been cleared and arranged in advance—listening to this guy spout flowery, extravagant flattery—he could do nothing else. Not a single trace of the real livelihoods of the people he wished to see was ever visible to him.

Year after year, Xie Chongjin had grown thoroughly sick of it, wishing for nothing more than to execute him on the spot.

The game treated the annual southern tour for relaxation as a venue to boost the Emperor’s Mood stat, yet the outcome was almost always counterproductive, leaving Xie Chongjin in an even bleaker mood.

The players on the forum were constantly complaining that the Emperor was never happy—unhappy when favoring consorts, unhappy when tasting delicacies, unhappy when going out to play—only showing a flicker of joy when seeing Lu Xuechao, followed immediately by even deeper, heavier anguish. It wasn’t the behavior of a normal person.

Naturally, he wasn’t normal. No normal person could go through his ordeal without being overwhelmed by gloom.

Where was the joy in “Joy of Reunion”? It was merely building the players’ delight upon the foundation of the Emperor’s agony.

With the resentment accumulated over the years finally granted an outlet, although Xie Chongjin remained expressionless and uttered not a single word, his prolonged silence was enough to leave the Prefect of Yunzhou terrified and trembling.

The whole heap of flattering and obsequious words he had prepared in advance couldn’t be uttered either.

His knees aching from kneeling, the Prefect of Yunzhou felt his vision turn black—disaster, His Majesty was giving him a show of force; these guests arrived with ill intent.

At this moment, Lu Xuechao’s voice rescued him like heavenly music: “Your Majesty.”

He feared that if he didn’t make a sound, Xie Chongjin would draw his sword and slay the man on the spot.

Xie Chongjin had wanted to do so for a long time—slaughter this dog of an official, shut his obsequious, flattering mouth, and give his ears some peace and quiet.

Lu Xuechao did not want another person’s blood to stain Xie Chongjin’s hands.

Rousing Xie Chongjin’s traumatic memories for such small-time scoundrels was simply not worth it.

Lu Xuechao’s clear, crisp voice brought tranquility to one’s heart. Xie Chongjin pulled his mind back from his chaotic thoughts: “Rise.”

Only then did the Prefect of Yunzhou rise falteringly, his legs still feeling weak.

“This servant has prepared a banquet in the imperial villa to welcome Your Majesty and Your Highness the Empress,” the Prefect of Yunzhou wiped away sweat surreptitiously, bowing low. “We respectfully invite Your Majesty and Your Highness to proceed to the imperial villa.”

Yunzhou Imperial Villa was magnificent and breathtaking, resembling jade towers and celestial pavilions—hardly inferior to the imperial palace in Yujing—clearly constructed at tremendous expense.

Perhaps having learned from the downfall of the neighboring county magistrate in Quling, the Prefect of Yunzhou dared not act too high-profile or luxurious this time, ordering dishes that were entirely standard and modest.

With His Majesty investigating corruption, indulging in lavish public-funded dining would be practically begging for death.

Standing attentively to the side, the Prefect of Yunzhou was just about to introduce Yunzhou’s local specialty dishes to the Empress, who had come to Jiangnan for the first time, when Xie Chongjin ordered everyone—including the prefect—to withdraw.

The Prefect of Yunzhou bowed and scraped: “…Understood.”

Withdrawing it is then; he didn’t particularly dare to serve the current His Majesty anyway.

He felt that compared to past years… he was vastly different.

Once the attendants were dismissed, Lu Xuechao picked up his chopsticks: “Why do you seem particularly impatient today?”

In front of Lu Xuechao, Xie Chongjin lacked that terrifying, overwhelming majesty, though he still said in an annoyed tone: “If you had to see his face, listen to his obsequious flattery, watch him deceive those above and oppress those below every single year for lifetime after lifetime—knowing he is a parasitic worm yet unable to eradicate him, only to continue hypocritically entertaining him the following year—would you not be annoyed?”

Lu Xuechao pondered for a moment, immediately understanding deeply.

“This will be the last time,” Lu Xuechao consoled him. “A permanent solution once and for all.”

Since they had arrived, there was no need to wait for the autumn executions; the Prefect of Yunzhou would not survive this summer.

No matter how dark the officialdom was, under tomorrow’s golden sunlight, it would have nowhere to hide.

“Forget it, let us not speak of these things,” Xie Chongjin sighed softly. “I said I would bring you to Jiangnan to play, yet along the way we’ve done nothing but handle vexing affairs. It’s as if I brought you to a different place just to work.”

Following him, Qingshu was always suffering hardship and exhaustion. Xie Chongjin felt a constant thread of guilt in his heart.

Constantly managing official duties at high intensity was too much for Lu Xuechao’s body; he needed to relax properly. Xie Chongjin made a prompt decision, granting them both a vacation.

“For these few days, let us not think about those things and focus purely on sight-seeing—just the two of us,” Xie Chongjin mustered rare enthusiasm. “I’ve been south many times; I know where all the finest scenery in Yunzhou is.”

The evidence of the local officials’ crimes didn’t require them to investigate personally; otherwise, what would be the point of bringing the imperial envoys along?

Lu Xuechao said: “Since you are already so familiar with Yunzhou, won’t you grow tired of it?”

Xie Chongjin shook his head: “I have been to Jiangnan thousands of times, yet I have never seen the real Jiangnan.”

When he went on inspection tours in past years, he followed pre-planned routes, surrounded by a massive entourage before and behind. After the streets were cleared in advance, not a single silhouette of a commoner could be seen on the road—cold and devoid of human warmth.

Most importantly, Lu Xuechao was not by his side.

How could he possibly enjoy himself to the fullest?

Back then, no matter how many consorts accompanied him, Xie Chongjin never allowed them near his person. Even with a hundred people at his side, without Lu Xuechao, he felt completely alone and isolated. There was only solitude and desolation, without a trace of warmth or liveliness.

“Where we go to play is not important; that you can accompany me is what matters most,” Xie Chongjin stated solemnly.

Lu Xuechao was slightly taken aback.

He suddenly remembered their youth: every year during the Hundred Flowers Festival, when people went in groups to admire flowers and go on spring outings, Xie Chongjin would always invite him along, never missing a single year. When he grew tired from walking, Xie Chongjin would carry him on his back if necessary.

He had assumed Xie Chongjin loved flowers. Every time they went, Xie Chongjin would gaze intently at the blooms, never looking at him.

Yet one year, during a chilly early spring, he was just recovering from a serious illness and couldn’t step outside to face the wind, so he told Xie Chongjin to find someone else to view the flowers. Xie Chongjin abandoned the vibrant array of blossoms and came to the Prime Minister’s residence instead, spending the entire day accompanying him inside a room filled with the scent of medicine while everyone else was out enjoying the spring.

Xie Chongjin had even brought a bouquet of wild flowers he had personally picked by the roadside, placing them by his bedside: “Qingshu, I have brought spring to you.”

If he couldn’t go outside to appreciate spring, Xie Chongjin would bring spring to him.

The spring flowers and autumn moon—they had to appreciate them together.

Looking at that bouquet of wild flowers, Lu Xuechao had asked: “Are you not going to see the flowers?”

The countryside was filled with blooming colors, a truly beautiful spring sight.

“Without you there, what flowers would I look at?” Xie Chongjin had said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I am not a flower. Why can’t you look at them just because I am not there?” Lu Xuechao had asked.

Xie Chongjin had looked at him with exasperated affection: “How can you still not understand? Every year during the Hundred Flowers Festival, I don’t go specifically to see the flowers; I come specifically to find you. What we look at doesn’t matter—what matters is that you accompany me.”

Lu Xuechao tilted his head: “But you only look at the flowers and not at me.”

“…I was only pretending to admire the flowers while secretly looking at you out of the corner of my eye. You are so beautiful that all the flowers lose their color; how could I care about any other blooms?” Xie Chongjin had said, both angry and aggrieved. “You even told me to find others to play with—have you forgotten that besides you, who else do I have as a friend?”

…How did that saying go again?

Pretending not to see, while stealing a thousand glances from the corner of his eye.

“You’re not allowed to push me onto others. Wherever I go, I will only bring you, and only play with you,” Xie Chongjin had told him with absolute seriousness.

Lu Xuechao had still been puzzled: “But why do you have to look at me secretly? You can look at me openly.”

Xie Chongjin: “…”

The young boy’s face had suddenly flushed red, unsure of how to answer.

Indeed—they had known each other since childhood, having seen each other countless times; when had he begun to fear looking him straight in the eye?

Back then, he was still too naive to realize that a seed of love had already quietly sprouted in his heart.

Yet Lu Xuechao had remembered those words. Xie Chongjin had said that he was what mattered, and that he would only bring him along when going out to play.

That was why later, after Xie Chongjin was controlled by the players, bringing a flock of consorts on his annual southern tours while uniquely ignoring him, Lu Xuechao was always heartbroken.

He knew it wasn’t that Xie Chongjin had forgotten their youthful promise, and precisely because of that, it hurt all the more.

Now that Xie Chongjin spoke these words again, they instantly overlapped with that boy’s earnest promise.

Lu Xuechao opened his mouth, but after a long pause, he merely said: “I wonder how old you are, yet still so fond of playing.”

Counting their memories from previous lives, they had truly lived for far, far too long—so long that they couldn’t remember their exact age, making it inevitable for their minds to bear a trace of worldly exhaustion.

Through thousands of cycles of reincarnation, both of them had changed immensely, yet…

“I don’t know how old I am either, nor do I know if I’m fond of playing,” Xie Chongjin smiled softly, his eyes filled with gentle, unwavering devotion, just like back then. “All I know is that I love you.”

His life was like a flower in the mirror, the moon in the water, or Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly—to the point where he had even grown confused about who he truly was.

Yet he knew, and had always known without a shadow of a doubt, that he undeniably loved Lu Xuechao.

Lu Xuechao covered his eyes, a faint smile breaking across his lips.

The blazing, crystal-clear love of the person before him had never changed.