Chapter 7: Desperate Measures—Writing a Novel!
“Well…” A Wang pondered. “He seems about the same, not talking much to me.”
Qi Xiaojun avoided talking to A Wang, fearing exposure.
Zhou Jun also avoided A Wang, as A Wang wasn’t a lifelong servant but someone sent by Zhou Jun’s stepmother when he was sent away. The stepmother, feeling guilty for her mistreatment, feared Zhou Jun’s revenge and threatened him to behave himself, assigning A Wang to monitor him.
Zhou Jun was wary of A Wang, a similarity shared by Qi Xiaojun.
“Oh, right!” A Wang suddenly recalled something. “The day his fever broke, he frantically asked about Qi, which struck me as odd.”
“What?!” Chu Lianmo’s heart leaped. “What is his connection to Qi? Why would he ask you about Qi?”
“He said he’d read a romance novel about a forbidden love between people from Chu and Qi, and he was curious.”
“A novel?” Chu Lianmo frowned. “Leave.”
Chu Lianmo went to Qi Xiaojun’s room.
“Greetings, Your Highness.” Qi Xiaojun bowed slightly. He was used to Chu Lianmo’s evening visits.
“Rise. Ajun,” Chu Lianmo sat on the bed, gazing directly into Qi Xiaojun’s eyes. “I heard you read a novel about a forbidden love between people from Chu and Qi?”
“…Yes.” Qi Xiaojun’s heart sank—why was Chu Lianmo asking this?
“Where is the novel? I want to read it.”
Qi Xiaojun was sure Chu Lianmo suspected his identity.
The novel, of course, didn’t exist.
He felt a sudden urge to confess everything.
But he resisted. Although they had once been friends, years had passed, and he couldn’t be certain of Chu Lianmo’s trustworthiness. He didn’t want to be captured and used as leverage against Qi, or killed by Chu Weide again.
The situation was too unbelievable; Chu Lianmo might not believe him. Being dismissed as insane would be worse.
Qi Xiaojun pretended to search. “Sorry, I don’t know where I put it. Let me look.”
Zhou Jun’s room did contain a few novels and other books.
Qi Xiaojun searched, eventually feigning difficulty. “Your Highness, I can’t find it. It’s late; I’ll undress you for bed, and I’ll look for it tomorrow.”
Chu Lianmo’s gaze grew more suspicious.
After hesitating, he nodded. “Good.”
Qi Xiaojun breathed a sigh of relief.
The next day, he ignored his accounting duties and locked himself in his room to write a novel.
Qi Xiaojun was both a warrior and a scholar. He had read romance novels; imitating them shouldn’t be difficult.
—Or so he thought.
He found it surprisingly challenging.
And to avoid suspicion, he had to write with his left hand, slowing him down.
He finished about twenty thousand words, too short for a novel, but he had to rush the ending.
Exhausted, Qi Xiaojun collapsed in his chair.
The mental fatigue was worse than physical exhaustion; he vowed never to write another novel.
Chu Lianmo returned in the evening, asking about the novel.
Prepared, Qi Xiaojun presented it. “Your Highness, I found it.”
Chu Lianmo read it carefully.
The novel was well-written and interesting.
But Chu Lianmo had two complaints: “The ending is too tragic. Why did they commit suicide? Chu and Qi are at peace; they aren’t enemies anymore.”
“…Perhaps the novel was written when they were enemies.”
“And…” Chu Lianmo lifted Qi Xiaojun’s chin, smiling mischievously. “Aren’t romance novels supposed to be racy? This is too pure; the author seems inexperienced.”
Qi Xiaojun blushed, instinctively moving back. “…Perhaps…”
He would blush reading such scenes, let alone writing them.
Chu Lianmo studied his reaction, occasionally glancing at the seemingly fresh ink on the novel, suspecting the truth.
But writing twenty thousand words in a few hours was impossible for a beginner. The handwriting was unfamiliar. So, Chu Lianmo wasn’t certain.
Besides, the person was dead; wasn’t his suspicion mere wishful thinking?
Chu Lianmo suppressed his smile.
He put the novel in his sleeve. “Undress me.”
“…Your Highness, aren’t you returning the…novel?”
“It has flaws, but also merits. I’ll study it later.”
Qi Xiaojun was stunned. Chu Lianmo wanted to study his hastily written work?!
He wanted to disappear.
He quickly composed himself and undressed Chu Lianmo.
The crisis was averted.
The next day, Qi Xiaojun implemented his cost-cutting measures.
Many complained.
But everyone knew Qi Xiaojun was the Prince’s favorite, so most remained silent.
Except for one—Murong Ying, the head of the guards.
Murong came from a prominent family; his father had been the Emperor’s guard captain. He followed Chu Lianmo instead of the Crown Prince.
Murong Ying was usually quiet and reserved on duty but was actually cheerful and proud.
He looked down on concubines like Zhou Jun.
After a couple of days, Murong Ying confronted Qi Xiaojun.
“What’s this? Meat rations reduced to two liang (ounces) a day? We work hard for His Highness; we can’t even eat more meat?”
“Sir, calm down.” Qi Xiaojun said soothingly. “A doctor friend of mine talked about healthy eating. Two liang of meat is best for your health.”
“Nonsense!” Murong Ying shouted. “I prefer half a jin (500 grams) of meat daily! You can’t control me!”