Chapter 101: Top of the List part 1
The winter air was biting, but the charcoal fires in the bedroom were stoked so high that not a hint of the chill could seep in.
Thick clouds had gathered during the night. After a sudden burst of lightning and thunder, a pitter-patter of rain finally began to fall.
Gu Zhen lifted the dark-patterned silk quilt and rose from the bed, his movements silent.
As if sensing the movement beside her, Zhao Yiyi stirred. She let out a soft, frowning hum—a thin, displeased murmur that felt like a tiny kitten’s claw scratching at the strings of his heart.
Gu Zhen paused. He turned back and gently patted her back to soothe her, whispering a soft coax, “Did Zhen wake you? It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
However, once startled awake, even the heaviest drowsiness couldn’t easily pull her back under.
Zhao Yiyi slowly blinked. The heavy bed curtains blocked the light, leaving the room in a pitch-black haze where nothing was clear. She merely stared out with misty, dazed eyes, her expression full of bewilderment. “What time is it?”
Gu Zhen looked down at her, his gaze softening with warmth. “It’s still early. Sleep a bit longer.”
Listening to the rhythmic splashing of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder outside, Zhao Yiyi realized belatedly, “Is it raining?”
“Yes,” Gu Zhen replied. “It started in the middle of the night.”
The thunder rolled on and the rain gradually intensified. A morning that was already dim was made even gloomier by this sudden downpour.
“But I think I heard the rooster crow,” Zhao Yiyi murmured, her delicate brows knitting together as she turned and burrowed deeper into the quilt.
Gu Zhen simply stroked her hair, his voice deep. “There is no court session today; there is no rush to return to the Palace.” He lifted a corner of the curtain to show her a sliver of the world outside. “Look, the sun isn’t even fully up yet. If you’re tired, sleep. Once you’re awake, Zhen will take you to the South Market for breakfast.”
Zhao Yiyi looked at him through the darkness, her lips pursed, saying nothing.
Waves of sleepiness washed over her again. Her eyelids fluttered, and the moment they closed, she found she couldn’t open them again.
After coaxing her for a while longer, Gu Zhen watched her peaceful sleeping face by the faint, minuscule light. Finally, he tucked in the corners of her quilt, threw on a cloak, and walked toward the outer room.
The moment he pushed open the door, a flurry of rain drifted toward him, coating him in damp mist. Wu Mao had been waiting outside the door, leaning against the frame with his eyes closed for a nap. Hearing the door open, he jolted awake and hurriedly bowed. “Your Majesty.”
Gu Zhen gave a slight nod, his expression indifferent.
Wu Mao said respectfully, “A few days ago, Eldest Young Master Lu attended a banquet at the Prince of Yan’s estate.”
Gu Zhen’s expression chilled by several degrees. “Did Gu Qi invite him?”
“It was indeed the Prince of Yan who extended the invitation,” Wu Mao confirmed. He paused before adding, “During the banquet, the Prince of Yan also asked Eldest Young Master Lu if he had brought any essays with him.”
To bring an essay to a banquet was a clear invitation to be introduced to the other guests—a gesture usually reserved for someone held in high regard. And those capable of attending a banquet at the Prince of Yan’s estate were no ordinary people.
Gu Zhen let out a cold sneer, the corners of his lips curling. “Since when did he become so kind-hearted?”
Wu Mao kept his gaze fixed on his own feet, remaining silent. In moments like this, to disagree with the Emperor was to invite immediate punishment, but to agree too readily might make the Emperor feel he was fanning the flames once His Majesty calmed down later. Thus, Wu Mao spoke as little as possible.
Gu Zhen looked toward the distant mountains. His eyes were dark and unreadable, obscured by the haze of the rain.
In this world, perhaps no one knew just how much he loathed Lu Xianshan.
He didn’t just loathe him; he envied him.
The single fact that they were childhood sweethearts was enough to make his heart ache with fury. Those two had always been on good terms; even after Yiyi came to Luoyang and they were separated, they still exchanged letters from time to time.
In contrast, his own past with Yiyi was a complete wreck. Even during their early marriage, there had been no sweetness between them. Looking back, it was nothing but a mess.
He couldn’t help but wonder—if Yiyi hadn’t become the Crown Princess, fulfilling his wish back then, would the man she married have been Lu Xianshan?
That was a thorn buried deep in his chest.
Whenever it was mentioned, the thorn would sink deeper, pricking his flesh and blood bit by bit. Usually, it wasn’t agonizing, nor was it fatal, but when it flared up, it was almost unbearable.
He resigned his post and came to Luoyang this time… likely for the Imperial Examinations?
At that thought, Gu Zhen’s eyes darkened. His hand hidden in his sleeve tightened, though his face remained as calm as a breeze. “Leave it be for now. Were there any memorials sent today?”
Even though they were at the villa outside the palace, urgent reports were still delivered by horse for the Emperor to handle.
Wu Mao replied, “There are no major matters today.”
Gu Zhen looked up at the rain, which was finally beginning to let up, before turning back into the house.
Only when he entered the warmth did he realize his cloak had been dampened by the mist. It felt wet to the touch, and under the light, he could see the water spots. Worried about bringing the chill inside, he took off the cloak in the outer room before stepping back into the bedroom.
The bedroom was silent and dim, but he didn’t feel any sense of oppression. Instead, his heart felt settled.
Yiyi was still inside, waiting for him.
The moment that thought surfaced, his heart softened instantly.
He lifted the curtains, changed back into his sleeping robes, and lay down again. He reached out with great care to pull her into his arms. Fearing he would wake the sleeping beauty, his movements were barely there, holding her loosely without daring to apply any pressure.
Rainy days were best for sleeping.
Listening to the rain outside and comparing it to the peace and quiet of the room, he felt an incomparable sense of security.
The two of them slept for another hour before rising. After washing up and changing, Zhao Yiyi even took the time to dress up slightly, pinning a gold buyao inlaid with jewels and shaped like a butterfly into her cloud-like black hair.
Both the North and South Markets opened at the crack of dawn. By the time they arrived, most people had finished their breakfast and were busy trading goods. However, because it had just rained, the crowds were much thinner than usual.
Listlessly stirring the plum blossom soup noodles in her bowl, Zhao Yiyi gazed out at the marketplace. She watched the passersby—some hurrying along, others haggling with vendors—and even forgot to eat her noodles.
Gu Zhen said softly, “Weren’t these plum blossom soup noodles always your favorite? Is this shop’s version not to your taste?”
Zhao Yiyi retracted her gaze and looked down at her bowl. She continued to stir slowly, her lips pressed together in silence.
“Tell Zhen.” Gu Zhen frowned. Seeing how tightly she gripped her spoon, he softened his tone. “If you don’t want to eat them, we can go to another shop.”
This shop was the most famous for soup noodles in the South Market. It had stood for many years, its reputation unshakable.
After a long silence, Zhao Yiyi finally stopped stirring. She whispered something.
But the words were too quiet, her lips barely moving. Even as close as Gu Zhen was, he couldn’t hear her. He patiently asked her to repeat it.
“I don’t like it.” She let go, allowing the spoon to clatter into the bowl. Though it seemed difficult for her to say, once the words were out, her expression relaxed significantly.
Gu Zhen froze. His hand gripping his own spoon tightened as he asked blankly, “You don’t like it? But every winter, you would often send plum blossom soup noodles to me.”
Whenever she sent food, sometimes she would say she made it for him, and other times she was too shy to say it, claiming she had made extra and left a portion for him. In the winter, these soup noodles were what she sent most often.
Gu Zhen said, “Yiyi…”
“It was because you liked them that I made them.” Zhao Yiyi looked down at the table, her voice faint.
When she said those words, she almost couldn’t believe it herself. Three years had passed, and she had finally said it.
In truth, there were many things she didn’t like—some she even detested. The only reason she kept doing them was that he liked them.
He appeared to be a casual person, the type whose expression wouldn’t change even if Mount Tai collapsed before him. Few people knew what he truly enjoyed. But back then, she loved him so much that she had observed him meticulously, deducing his preferences one by one.
How could she not understand him?
Gu Zhen sat there in a daze. Then, his voice dropped, trembling as he said, “Yiyi, I’m sorry.”
Zhao Yiyi looked away, her gaze wandering. “Why say that? I made them for you of my own free will. It wasn’t as if you ordered me to do those things.”
But Gu Zhen’s heart only ached more. A dense, needle-like bitterness wrapped around him without mercy. He stubbornly apologized again, his voice so low it was nearly a sob.
Despite her dislike, Zhao Yiyi finished the bowl before standing up to leave.
The two of them walked through the South Market, separated by an inch, one following the other. Sometimes they walked along the main roads crowded with shops, and other times they veered into the narrow alleys.
Zhao Yiyi would occasionally stop to buy some novel trinkets—a small clay figurine, a wooden carving, or a string of pearls of mediocre quality.
Gu Zhen followed her every step. It wasn’t until he looked at the sky that he said, “It’s time to head back.”
Zhao Yiyi turned to look at him, her face falling into an obvious expression of unhappiness. But she didn’t argue. She knew they had stayed out long enough; they really should have returned yesterday. Moreover, Gu Zhen was not an idle man. Though there was no court session today, he had many government affairs to attend to.
Seeing her look, Gu Zhen’s heart softened. His scalp felt a bit numb as he whispered, “In a few days, Zhen will take you out to see the lanterns.”
They had seen the lanterns for the Mid-Autumn Festival last year. The Lantern Festival on the fifteenth of the first lunar month would be even more magnificent than Mid-Autumn—thousands of points of light reflecting the bright, full moon.
The two of them had never watched the lanterns together on the Lantern Festival.
Under the sunlight, Gu Zhen moved closer. He carefully reached out, his fingertips tentatively brushing against hers before he finally, firmly grasped her soft hand.
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