Chapter 32
Meng Zhou was drenched like a monkey. He thought he could hear his makeup running.
His knees were icy, aching dully whenever he moved. After all his running around lately, he had lost who knew how much weight everywhere except his belly. His knees were nothing but jutting bones beneath a layer of skin, pressed straight against the marble. Kneeling in the hall earlier had already made them hurt.
The ministers on either side knelt in willing silence. To ensure Great Wei had an heir, it was worth kneeling. Meng Zhou looked back and forth, finding it rather like a scene from an idol drama. He had no choice but to play the male lead for once.
Pretending to faint required little skill. Meng Zhou casually toppled to the ground, still craftily cushioning his forehead with one hand while his other sleeve covered his downward-facing face.
To everyone else, however, the sight was startling, like a blue-green lotus leaf held high, its graceful stem suddenly snapped by the downpour as it tipped onto the lake.
That included Chu Huaiyin.
Among those kneeling were veteran ministers thirty or forty years older than Meng Zhou, their backs straight, looking capable of urging His Majesty to take consorts for another thirty years.
Only Meng Zhou had fainted.
In that short distance, countless possibilities flashed through Chu Huaiyin's mind. Had he suffered an internal injury on the road? Had falling into the water left lasting damage? Or had remembering that downpour at Qianyang Lake sent him into convulsions...
Chu Huaiyin swept Meng Zhou into his arms and roared, "Summon the imperial physicians! All of them!"
The officials all turned to look at the unconscious Lord Guan. He truly was the sovereign's favorite, to have His Majesty so frantic. Something seemed off, but they could not put their finger on it.
At the words "summon the imperial physicians," Meng Zhou immediately opened his eyes. He struggled, trying to get out of Chu Huaiyin's arms. The stalemate had been broken; next came another fierce battle to protect his alternate identity.
"This subject is unharmed."
"Shut up." Chu Huaiyin could no longer tell whether Meng Zhou was telling the truth, so he simply kept hold of him and did things his own way.
Meng Zhou saw the bewilderment and envy of the ministers around them. A little longer, and he suspected one phrase would slowly emerge in their eyes.
Serving the sovereign with his looks.
He carried Guan Jiasheng's reputation and could not afford a single misstep. Before the ministers caught on, he had to make Chu Huaiyin put him down.
Meng Zhou's expression was solemn. This was probably the most serious thing he had ever said to Chu Huaiyin: "This subject, Guan Jiasheng, asks Your Majesty to let go."
Unafraid of Chu Huaiyin's glare, he met it with a firm gaze.
The moment Chu Huaiyin picked him up, Meng Zhou knew his alternate identity was on shaky ground. Would the emperor himself just pick anyone up? It was a little narcissistic to think so, but Meng Zhou really did not believe Chu Huaiyin would carry Guan Jiasheng, whom he had only met a few times.
Chu Huaiyin understood. Their eyes locked, and after a brief standoff, Chu Huaiyin carefully set him down. "Minister Guan will stay to see the imperial physicians. Everyone else may leave."
Xiao Jiu came panting over with an umbrella. Chu Huaiyin took it and glanced sidelong at Meng Zhou. Sure enough, he saw him draw closer like a fledgling swallow seeking shelter from the rain.
After that string of little movements, if Chu Huaiyin still believed he was Guan Jiasheng, he might as well abdicate in favor of someone more capable and return to guard the Northern Frontier.
"Come inside with me." Chu Huaiyin gave Meng Zhou a cool glance and told Xiao Jiu to fetch a clean set of clothes.
Back when he was still Prince Huai, Chu Huaiyin had felt sorry that Meng Zhou dressed so plainly and hired the best tailor to make clothes for him. Before the clothes could be finished, Meng Zhou had disappeared.
Meng Zhou changed. The shoulders were a little too broad.
Clothes originally made to measure were now both too large and too short, a considerable contradiction.
Chu Huaiyin shifted his gaze to Meng Zhou's boots, silently wondering how high the inserts were. Instead, he overlooked the fact that Meng Zhou had not fastened his belt and the clothes merely hung loosely on him.
Still damp, Kitten Meng looked rather pitiful.
"Thank you for the clothes, Your Majesty. If there is nothing else, this subject will take his leave." Meng Zhou thought that whether his alternate identity was exposed was one thing; whether he admitted it was quite another.
He might have nothing else, but his skin was extraordinarily thick.
"Hmph." Chu Huaiyin thought he was not just pitiful, but infuriating too.
"No." Chu Huaiyin wasted no words on him. "Wait for the imperial physicians." He would settle accounts with this little liar once he was sure he was all right.
Cold sweat poured down Meng Zhou's back, leaving it colder than it had been in the rain.
"This subject was pretending."
Chu Huaiyin inwardly sighed in relief. Meng Zhou had been rigid when he picked him up, then immediately opened his eyes at the mention of the imperial physicians. What could it have been but an act?
The helpless part was that even now, he still worried and fretted over Meng Zhou's transparent lies.
"You admit to deceiving your sovereign readily enough."
Meng Zhou was all concern for the country and its people. "This subject saw that Elder Zhang, despite his advanced age, still labored for the nation, his proud backbone unbowed as he forced himself to kneel. Your Majesty's heart lies with the realm, with no interest in romantic affairs, and you dislike advice to select consorts and appoint an empress. Seeing the ministers kneel pains Your Majesty too, yet their repeated calls to select consorts left you no choice but to make your position clear. Since that was the case, naturally, this subject had to be the sinner."
Meng Zhou had covertly praised himself as a peerless, virtuous minister who eased his sovereign's burdens. Chu Huaiyin nearly laughed in exasperation. Yet his reasoning was so well supported that there was nothing Chu Huaiyin could do to him.
"This subject is strong and healthy and has no need of an imperial physician," Meng Zhou insisted again. "Medicine tastes bitter. Your Majesty may laugh at me for saying so, but this subject has feared bitterness since childhood. Minor illnesses heal without medicine. Please be understanding, Your Majesty."
After all this back and forth, Chu Huaiyin understood. Meng Zhou simply feared the imperial physicians and taking medicine.
"Very well." Chu Huaiyin narrowed his phoenix eyes, hauled Meng Zhou out of his chair, and tossed him onto the dragon throne.
The dragon throne was spacious enough for Meng Zhou to curl his entire body onto it with room to spare. Chu Huaiyin felt like a large cat blocking a mousehole. No bait was needed; a threatening sound alone would send the cunning little mouse slinking out in surrender.
He pinched Meng Zhou's cheek. There was hardly any flesh on it. "When do you intend to resume your identity as Meng Zhou? Is it fun watching me send troops searching for you over thousands upon thousands of miles?"
Meng Zhou sat on the dragon throne in "trepidation," his gaze falling directly on the five-clawed golden dragon on Chu Huaiyin's chest. This was the first time he had been so close to Chu Huaiyin in court robes, close enough to see how the embroiderer's meticulous skill had imbued every stitch and thread with an imposing, overbearing majesty.
"Your Majesty may have misunderstood this subject." Meng Zhou remained stubborn to the bitter end, refusing to shed his alternate identity even when it had been torn to shreds.
It really made one want to strip him naked and throw him onto the dragon bed.
Chu Huaiyin ground his teeth. "As long as you admit it, I will let bygones be bygones."
Meng Zhou stiffened his neck. Guan Jiasheng's identity would surely hook a big fish. He was waiting. Chu Huaiyin had no evidence, and even if he did, Meng Zhou would not admit it.
"Do you know how dangerous this identity is?" Chu Huaiyin pinched his cheeks hard and pulled them apart, leaning toward Meng Zhou in agitation. Impervious to reason, unmoved by either persuasion or force-how had he fallen for someone like this?
Gurgle.
Meng Zhou's stomach growled.
It made a sound of wanting fish.
Embarrassed, he covered his stomach. When Chu Huaiyin looked over, he bent forward slightly, concealing the belly that was clearly hungry yet looked as if he had eaten a watermelon.
When he looked up, a little anticipation unwittingly entered his eyes. He had yet to taste the imperial kitchen's cooking.
Chu Huaiyin conceded defeat. Counting their past confrontations, he had never once managed to pry Meng Zhou's mouth open.
Those clear black-and-white eyes looked at him expectantly. Coupled with his slightly hollow cheeks and prominent cheekbones, giving him the look of a little hungry ghost, there was naturally only one thing to do at a time like this... feed him like mad.
Chu Huaiyin irritably ordered a meal. He looked annoyed, but his requests were no less numerous.
"Serve a few fish dishes..." Meng Zhou had grown tired of Snow Spot before disappearing. Unsure how things stood now, Chu Huaiyin turned to glance at him. Seeing his eyes light up, he continued, "Catch them at Prince Huai's Residence."
He even specified extra chopped scallions and minced garlic.
Meng Zhou nearly drooled on the dragon throne. Chu Huaiyin returned and raised an eyebrow. "What, can't bear to get off my dragon throne?"
Of course not!
Meng Zhou promptly scrambled down, only for Chu Huaiyin to block his path. Two fingers gripped his chin and forced it upward. "I will give you one last chance."
Meng Zhou remained unmoved.
He had two secrets. If Chu Huaiyin exposed one, only one would remain. It was like wearing two layers in the depths of winter. Though the outer padded coat was covered in patches and often let in drafts, once he took it off, the inner layer would need constant patching instead, and he would shiver with cold.
It was a strange state of mind, but undeniably, Guan Jiasheng's identity gave him a peculiar sense of security.
Chu Huaiyin stared at him for a while. Suddenly, his lips curled with a hint of wickedness. "My dear minister, you will regret this."
Meng Zhou watched him warily.
Chu Huaiyin released him without elaborating. "Eat first."
For the first time, the imperial kitchen placed three whole fish among the dishes on a single table. It was a magnificent sight, enough to make other cats green with envy.
Meng Zhou threw caution to the wind. He would fill his stomach first and worry about the rest later. Suddenly, his nose tickled, like the onset of a cold. Terrified that Chu Huaiyin would summon the imperial physicians again, he forcibly held it... failed to hold it, and let out a small sneeze.
He slapped the table, simultaneously chomping into a chicken drumstick.
Like a little kitten angered by eating too fast.
Chu Huaiyin had not heard his sneeze. "Eat slowly." He sighed, truly unable to understand how Meng Zhou's mind worked. Why put himself in such a sorry state?
The palace maid serving the dishes helped remove the fish bones, only to be cruelly stripped of her duties by Chu Huaiyin.
Between bites, Meng Zhou found time to think that the maid must be wondering where this male fox spirit had come from.
Kitten Meng ate until his mouth was greasy. Chu Huaiyin reached over to wipe a grain of rice from the corner of his lips. When he withdrew his hand, a streak lighter than Meng Zhou's complexion suddenly appeared on his face.
His makeup had come off... Chu Huaiyin looked at his hand. It was oily, with a little inconspicuous powder on it.
Meng Zhou and Chu Huaiyin both fell silent.
Chu Huaiyin did not expose Meng Zhou. Instead, when he saw Meng Zhou out of the palace with a beaming smile, Meng Zhou could not help wondering whether the shock had been too much for him. His back prickled.
The true culprit behind the scenes seemed very patient. Meng Zhou decided to stroll around Qianyang Lake. Perhaps he might discover something.
Qianyang Lake was bleak and desolate, but the view was more open. Meng Zhou stood on the shore. The calm surface and the towering waves of a month earlier might have belonged to two different lakes.
Every so often, a carp leaped above the lake in a smooth semicircular arc, its scales flashing gold in the sunset.
With Qianyang Lake forced into a fishing moratorium, its fish were beautiful and plump.
Meng Zhou averted his eyes. Tempting this official until he can't concentrate on serious business! What a bunch of indecent fish!
Halfway around, he came across an abandoned platform. Its wooden planks extended a dozen or so meters over the lake. It was a stage built in the first half of the year. Commoners watched the performers' backs from shore, while the wealthy reclined in pleasure boats to watch.
Meng Zhou looked down. A strip of blue cloth hung from a post driven into the water, drifting with the current.
It looked familiar. He picked up a stick and crouched on the shore, trying to reach it.
Suddenly, a faint cry for help reached his ears.
Meng Zhou followed the sound. A group was furtively carrying a pig cage toward the lake, taking advantage of Qianyang Lake's closure and the absence of people.
The cries came from a woman inside the cage, her hands and feet bound. Her belly bulged. She was pregnant!
Meng Zhou was beside himself with rage. To think he would witness such a vile practice of persecuting women as drowning them in pig cages!
"Stop!" Meng Zhou shouted.
The villagers paused. Seeing that Meng Zhou was alone, they regained their confidence. "Mind your own business!"
"Save her," Meng Zhou ordered.
The hidden guards ordered to follow Meng Zhou exchanged dumbfounded looks for a moment, then flew out. Sword light flashed, dazzling the villagers, and the guards had already escaped safely with the woman.
"Take her to a medical clinic." Meng Zhou glanced at the unconscious woman and suddenly changed his mind. "Take her to the Guan Residence and have a doctor come."