Jiangnan is a place of beautiful mountains and clear waters, a leisurely lifestyle that Rong Tang had never experienced during his years in the capital.
The four of them set out from Suzhou, taking a leisurely carriage ride and wandering around. Rong Tang finally fulfilled his ultimate dream of the four of them playing poker together. Seeing how happy he was, Su Huaijing couldn’t help but smile.
Ke Hongxue, having grown up in Jiangnan, knew better than anyone where the fun spots were and where to find good food. Using the pretext of sightseeing, he took the Junior Minister of the Imperial Court of Justice to visit every nook and cranny. He even pointed out the stone pier where he used to sit as a child, watching the other healthy children play games, describing it all in detail.
With Su Huaijing here, Mu Jingxu would never think of returning halfway; and with Rong Tang here, Su Huaijing naturally wished for his young husband to enjoy himself to the fullest.
Ke Hongxue only needed to figure out what Rong Tang liked.
And young Prince Rong was easy to please—give him games to play, drinks to enjoy, and food to eat. Conveniently, these were things Ke Hongxue was well-versed in.
On the fifteenth of the eighth month, the four of them returned to the small courtyard of the Lin Estate. The kitchen was busy making mooncakes. After playing around for half a month, Rong Tang felt a bit restless. When he saw the cooks at work, he couldn’t resist the urge to join in and made several mooncakes himself. He even tried some shapes he had seen in modern times, making a little bunny for Su Huaijing and a snowman for Ke Hongxue. Then, after staring at Mu Jingxu for a while, he thought and thought and eventually made a little sleeping kitten, curled up with its tail wrapped around it.
Ke Hongxue laughed and immediately asked, “Prince, are these things you made mooncakes?”
Rong Tang replied confidently, “With flour and filling, any pastries eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival are called mooncakes in my family.”
Ke Hongxue smiled, squinting as he glanced over at Su Huaijing. “Is that so?”
Su Huaijing, busy kneading the dough, replied in a doting and gentle tone, “In our household, Tangtang is in charge. He can call them whatever he likes.”
Rong Tang immediately raised his chin, looking at Ke Hongxue with a proud tilt of his head, and let out a soft “hmph!” from his nose.
He was unbearably proud.
Su Huaijing’s eyes were full of smiles. He looked at the three ‘mooncakes’ of various shapes, thought for a moment, and then moulded a little fox, placing it face-to-face with the snow-white bunny.
After he finished, he paused, then used his hand to shape a smile on the fox’s face.
Ke Hongxue, feeling a twinge of envy from their display, instinctively turned to seek comfort from his senior. But he saw Mu Jingxu gazing tenderly at Su Huaijing, a lively and soft expression on his face—something Ke Hongxue hadn’t seen since their reunion.
Just then, the autumn wind began to rise outside the kitchen. Ke Hongxue watched the three people inside, each absorbed in their own actions but all smiling happily, and he suddenly lost the urge to act petulant with Mu Jingxu.
He gazed quietly for a while. Perhaps because the usually noisy one had been silent for too long, Mu Jingxu raised his head in confusion and happened to meet Ke Hongxue’s eyes.
Tutor Ke paused, then smiled from the depths of his heart.
How wonderful.
His winter snow was beginning to thaw.
……
The oddly-shaped mooncakes were a joy to make. After steaming them in a pot, they came out plump and puffy. Their eyes and mouths were comically enlarged, cracks appeared all over their surfaces, and the fillings were spilling out.
Ke Hongxue bent over in laughter, mercilessly mocking Rong Tang. The young prince’s face flushed slightly as he looked at Su Huaijing with a bit of embarrassment.
However, Su Huaijing, unfazed, casually picked up the little bunny mooncake and took a bite. He chewed slowly and said, “It’s delicious.”
Rong Tang was immediately placated!
Ke Hongxue was obviously just lying!
Only Su Huaijing’s praise was genuine!
He cheerfully picked up the little fox mooncake but couldn’t bear to devour it quickly. Instead, he broke it into small pieces and ate it bit by bit.
The moon in the sky was full, and autumn was settling in on earth. A pot of osmanthus wine sat on the stone table in the courtyard, filling the air with the sweet fragrance of golden osmanthus, while golden persimmons hung and swayed at the tops of the trees.
Su Huaijing was shelling crabs for Rong Tang. He looked up, closed his eyes slightly, and felt the evening breeze brush against his cheeks. He murmured softly, “I don’t want to go back.”
Su Huaijing paused in his task, momentarily silent.
Rong Tang didn’t notice his expression. He quietly enjoyed the breeze for a while, then heard Ke Hongxue laugh and say, “If Prince finds the capital stuffy and boring, why not head to Lingnan next spring after the New Year? By then, the flowers will be in full bloom, and the beauty will be overwhelming.”
Rong Tang opened his eyes, feeling somewhat tempted.
Su Huaijing said, “Lingnan is full of miasma, and Tangtang’s body isn’t suited for going there.”
He separated the crab meat from the roe, placed them on a small plate in front of Rong Tang, then glanced up lightly at Mu Jingxu. “Your Excellency Mu doesn’t seem in the best health either, so it appears you’re not suitable for the journey.”
Ke Hongxue’s smile froze instantly, and Mu Jingxu tightened his grip on his chopsticks.
Su Huaijing turned and spoke softly, “The medicine prescribed by the doctor is almost finished. Tangtang needs to return to the capital for a new prescription.”
At the mention of the medicine, Rong Tang’s face fell. He pursed his lips and whispered, “I was just saying…… Mother even wrote a letter two days ago urging me to go back.”
“Ng.” Su Huaijing responded, “We’ll take our time on the way back, and you can enjoy some sightseeing.”
Rong Tang immediately brightened up, his eyes curving into a smile. “Great!”
A “pak” sounded—
A bird foraging in the treetop bit off half a persimmon, causing it to smash on the ground, spilling yellow pulp everywhere. Rong Tang looked at the splattered persimmon, a little regretful, and said, “I haven’t even tasted one yet.”
Su Huaijing said, “I had Shuang Fu and the others pick a basket two days ago and put them under the eaves to dry. They’re ripe now. You can have some tomorrow.”
Rong Tang instantly perked up. He swung his feet on the stool and secretly drank half a cup of osmanthus wine. When he started yawning, Su Huaijing sent him back to his room to sleep.
Ke Hongxue, ever observant, noticed Mu Jingxu hadn’t moved. Understanding that the two had something to discuss, he feigned drunkenness and staggered back to his room.
After seeing Rong Tang off, Su Huaijing returned to find Mu Jingxu still sitting in the same spot, a fat cat-shaped mooncake in front of him.
Su Huaijing smiled and asked, “Don’t you like it?”
Mu Jingxu was puzzled. “Why did he make a cat for me?”
It was a cat curled up, hugging its tail as it slept.
Su Huaijing replied, “Tangtang might think you’re insecure, xiong zhang.”
Mu Jingxu looked up, still puzzled.
Su Huaijing explained, “His logic is actually quite simple. He sees you as cold yet gentle like a cat, difficult to approach but soft and adorable. So, he felt that this was the most fitting animal for you.”
Mu Jingxu frowned and stared at the mooncake for a while, unable to comprehend Rong Tang’s reasoning. He eventually stopped trying and asked Su Huaijing, “You hesitated earlier. What were you thinking?”
When Rong Tang casually mentioned not wanting to return to the capital, Su Huaijing had been momentarily stunned. Emotions of contemplation and inner conflict flashed across his eyes, clearly visible to Mu Jingxu, who sat opposite him.
Su Huaijing smiled gently, pushed the wine jug aside, and poured two cups of tea. “For a moment, I didn’t want to return to the capital either.”
Mu Jingxu’s expression tightened slightly. He spoke softly, “You could—”
“I can’t,” Su Huaijing interrupted, placing a teacup in front of Mu Jingxu. He looked up and stared quietly into Mu Jingxu’s eyes. “How many lingering ailments do you have?”
Mu Jingxu fell silent. Usually calm and composed, at this moment, he seemed like a child caught doing something wrong, unsure how to repent.
Su Huaijing continued, “You want to say that I don’t have to go back to the capital, that with you there, you would achieve the outcome I desire on my behalf. Isn’t that right?”
Mu Jingxu nodded. “It should be my duty.”
Su Huaijing chuckled softly. “Then what happened with Sheng Chengli?”
“I poisoned him,” Mu Jingxu replied softly.
Su Huaijing looked at his xiong zhang in surprise.
Mu Jingxu explained, “Before I headed south, Imperial Mother gave me various medicines—poisons to fake death, disguise, kill, save lives… She gave me everything one could think of.”
The autumn wind circled Lin Estate, and the silence was broken only by the last of the cicadas desperately crying.
Su Huaijing was stunned, not just by the mention of their Imperial Mother, but by the realisation that after so many years, he finally glimpsed a piece of the past’s truth.
“I originally thought she only prepared these for me, but I later learned she also gave a human-skin mask to the secret guards.”
The former empress was not the conventional type who simply supported her husband and raised her children, serving as the mother of the nation. Instead, she was lively, sharp, playful, knowledgeable, and intelligent. Many admirable qualities could be found in her.
When they were young, even the other princes in the palace envied their Crown Prince Gege.
But it wasn’t because of his position as Crown Prince, nor his status as a legitimate son. It was simply because he had a unique mother, unmatched in this world.
She could treat illnesses, make medicines, craft things, and take her son out of the palace to play. There was almost nothing she couldn’t do… except cook.
Soon enough, even that shortcoming disappeared.
Because the crown prince learned to cook.
A gentleman stays away from the kitchen, not to mention the heir to the throne.
But the empress often wanted to cook, and each time, she would emerge from the kitchen both messy and frustrated. Feeling sorry for his Imperial Mother, the crown prince, at the age of three, learned to make scrambled eggs with tomatoes from the imperial kitchen. With his little face smudged black, he proudly carried a plate of barely recognisable food to Fengqi Palace for the empress, and was overjoyed.
This made the children in the harem envy the crown prince for having such a cool mother, and the concubines envy the empress for having such a caring son.
However, everyone later realised that although the empress was spirited and carefree, she was equally kind to all the children. Whatever her son had, she never forgot to prepare a share for the other princes and princesses.
If a young prince failed to study properly and was punished by his birth mother by being denied food, he would run to Fengqi Palace, crying and feeling wronged. The empress would immediately prepare a table full of delicious dishes for him, making sure his belly was round and full, and then have the palace eunuchs and maids take him out for some fun to help digest the meal.
If a concubine grew impatient and came looking for her children, the empress would simply hand her a lecture note from the Imperial Academy and say, “Memorise this first, and then, if you can master it, you can mock your son or daughter for not being as smart as you, even though they are younger. Let’s see if they still won’t study hard out of shame.”
Concubine: “?”
Prince and Princess: “??”
She was indeed something else, backstabbing everyone around her.
Yet no one hated her.
Before Mu Jingxu headed south, he visited Fengqi Palace. The usually playful and lively empress was quietly reading an ancient book under the lamp. When she saw him, she smiled faintly, her demeanour as gentle as a goddess.
She handed Mu Jingxu various medicines one by one, meticulously explaining how each one should be used. She emphasised repeatedly that the wrong medicine must not be used, nor should any be used recklessly unless absolutely necessary. She spent a long time giving her instructions.
The young Third Prince looked closely and saw a line of blisters on the empress’s delicate white hands.
The world expected the imperial family to quell rebellions and intrusions; the officials demanded that the princes set an example. But the empress only wanted her children to live in peace.
Mu Jingxu didn’t dare to ask how much medicine she had prepared or how many sleepless days she had spent refining them. He simply kowtowed and respectfully said, “Imperial Mother, please take care of your health.”
He didn’t even dare to promise to return and fulfil his filial duties.
He dared to deceive his didi, promising to take him rabbit hunting, but deep down, he knew this journey was fraught with danger.
Mu Jingxu hadn’t intended to use those medicines. As a prince, he had enjoyed years of privilege and honour; it was only right for him to die for the sake of the empire. But on the night Lu Junxian made his move, the Embroidered Guards took it upon themselves for the first time to knock their master unconscious, secretly send him away, and replace him with a disguised secret guard, who lay in wait in the tent for the traitors to enter.
Lu Junxian wasn’t the only one who couldn’t escape.
During that period, Dayu was plagued by disasters on all sides, and the troops sent south to suppress the rebellion were hastily assembled.
His Majesty could barely protect the capital, so how could there have been so many well-trained soldiers for the Third Prince to take with him?
It wasn’t until everything was decided, and Mu Jingxu saw the severed head on the rebel flag from a distance, that he understood what had happened.
He could no longer afford to die.
He had to return to the capital; there were still many things he needed to do.
……
The autumn wind rustled through the leaves in the courtyard.
Mu Jingxu spoke slowly, “Sheng Chengli came to me on his own, saying he wanted to seize the throne and asked if I could help him. I asked him what he could offer me in return, and he said his life.”
That was a very ambitious young man, and Mu Jingxu knew this from the first moment he saw him.
Ke Hongxue thought he was unaware, but Mu Jingxu had faced the deepest and harshest betrayals. How could he not see through it? He just had to pretend not to notice.
“So, I poisoned him, with the agreement that he would receive an antidote every month,” Mu Jingxu said lightly, showing none of the pristine, unstained white robes that Rong Tang remembered.
Su Huaijing was momentarily stunned, his hands dropping to his sides as he unconsciously clenched them.
His xiong zhang shouldn’t be like this. He had always seemed as clear and open as the breeze and the bright moon.
Su Huaijing composed himself and asked, “Then what did you tell Ke Hongxue?”
Mu Jingxu frowned slightly and replied, “I told him I wanted to choose a wise ruler for the realm. Among the princes in the palace, only Sheng Chengli could be of use to me. His character isn’t bad, and he might be trainable.”
Su Huaijing: “Did he believe you?”
“I don’t know.” Mu Jingxu shook his head, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “I can’t understand him.”
Ke Hongxue had his own set of principles, which were not necessarily in opposition to Mu Jingxu’s, but he just couldn’t figure out Ke Hanying.
Just like he still didn’t know how Ke Hongxue had recognised him at Linyuan Academy or why he was so certain he was an old friend.
“Xiong zhang,” Su Huaijing called out. Mu Jingxu looked over and heard him ask, “So, what do you think? Do you really want to cultivate a wise ruler for the world?”
The strong fragrance of osmanthus and persimmon filled the courtyard.
Mu Jingxu was silent for a moment, then instead of answering, he asked, “Who do you think in that palace right now has the potential to become a wise ruler?”
The two stared at each other for a long time. After a while, Su Huaijing lowered his head and smiled, “No wonder you don’t want to admit it.”
They were all people who had crawled out of hell, walking on a knife’s edge, where a single misstep could lead to their bodies being shattered and no place for burial. How could his xiong zhang drag someone else into a shared grave?
“As long as Grand Tutor Ke is alive, as long as Uncle Ke still controls Jiangnan’s economy, no matter which emperor sits on the throne, Ke Hongxue naturally has a safeguard against death. How could you let him risk himself with you?” Su Huaijing chuckled softly, shook his head, and sighed, “Xiong zhang, you and Tangtang are the same—you can’t see your own hearts clearly.”
Or rather, perhaps you have seen them clearly, but neither of you is willing to admit it.
The author has something to say:
The main feature of these four people is that they never tell the truth to anyone.
