Chapter 39

An eagle glided across the azure sky. The abbot looked up and smiled. "Buddhists believe in affinity. If you are unwilling, benefactor, I will not insist."

The abbot slipped off the prayer beads he had worn for decades and handed them to Meng Zhou, smiling as he said they were a first-meeting gift for the young benefactor, consecrated to keep him safe.

Meng Zhou thanked him. It seemed the abbot had not come to expose him after all. He had been holding his breath and pulling in his stomach; now he relaxed completely.

"When I named you Zhou, I was agreeing to Benefactor Jiang's request. If you ever encounter difficulties, come to Guang'en Temple. Whatever help I can offer, I naturally will."

Meng Zhou entertained a fanciful idea. Could he come to Guang'en Temple, become a monk, and go into seclusion to have his little baby? That was not a bad solution.

"Thank you for your kindness, Abbot. I will keep him safe for the rest of his life." Seeing Meng Zhou already turning the abbot's beads in his hands, his eyes growing brighter as they spoke, looking as though he had attained enlightenment, Chu Huaiyin felt his scalp tighten. He practically flew over in a few strides and clasped Meng Zhou's hand to stake his claim.

Meng Zhou swiftly pulled his hand back and nervously turned the beads twice. What nonsense are you saying in front of the abbot?

After all, the abbot was being so courteous entirely because of his connection to Jiang Yao when she was alive. Then Meng Zhou had another thought: Chu Huaiyin's mother had a longevity tablet here. What if the abbot switched sides?

Stroking his white beard, the abbot glanced at the tense-faced Chu Huaiyin and the fidgeting Meng Zhou, then suddenly murmured twice, "What a sin, what a sin."

Chu Huaiyin did not understand, but like Meng Zhou, he was very eager to get away from Guang'en Temple.

Not far from Guang'en Temple was the place where "Meng Zhou" had been buried.

From here, a corner of Guang'en Temple's main hall was visible to the south, while the capital's gates could be seen in the distance to the north. It was not an isolated spot, lying right beside the official road.

Thanks to Meng Zhou, Wang Junyang had been buried after death in such an auspicious site, shaded by green pines and filled with orioles' songs. The gravestone was so grand and imposing that it would surely tempt the tomb raiders of later generations.

Now, the sight of Meng Zhou's name carved into the stone offended Chu Huaiyin's eyes. The man was alive; what was the point of keeping his gravestone?

But Meng Zhou had not yet admitted his identity to his uncle. Although Chu Huaiyin was constantly thinking about stripping off his clothes-no, his disguise-when it came to taking action, he still obediently helped Meng Zhou keep his secret.

Chu Huaiyin truly felt that being emperor gave him very little sense of accomplishment in front of Meng Zhou.

"Do you know who is in there, my dear subject?" Chu Huaiyin asked casually. How had someone just happened to have the same build as Meng Zhou?

"The prime minister's second son," Meng Zhou answered ambiguously. Before the Wang Family fell, Wang Junyang had indeed been the second young master.

Chu Huaiyin missed the hidden meaning and thought Meng Zhou was cursing himself. He reached out and squeezed his neck.

"Do not try to anger me." Chu Huaiyin's gaze moved to four inches below Meng Zhou's waist, and he raised an eyebrow in warning.

Meng Zhou received the threat and protested his innocence. "Every word I have said is true. I would not dare deceive Your Majesty."

Only then did Chu Huaiyin catch on. "You mean Wang Junyang?"

His expression was unpleasant, and he even felt a slight urge to dig up the grave. Where else could Wang Junyang find such a good deal as being buried under Meng Zhou's name?

Chu Huaiyin said darkly, "I heard Meng Zhou disguised himself as a bride and performed the wedding rites with Wang Junyang?"

"Impossible!" Meng Zhou blurted.

"...No, I mean, I am not sure either."

Having nearly tripped himself up with a lie he had casually invented before, Meng Zhou hurriedly corrected himself.

At that, Chu Huaiyin's expression grew exceedingly complicated: chagrin at being deceived mingled with a little relief, and that relief was thoroughly steeped in frustration and helplessness.

"So, from the very beginning, you never told me a single true word?"

His credibility in ruins, Meng Zhou hastily recalled their conversation from back then and said without much confidence, "I... I did, didn't I?"

For an instant, Chu Huaiyin wanted to pull down his trousers and give him a few hard smacks.

A shadow guard presented a three-tiered food box. Its savory aroma wafted out before it was even opened. Chu Huaiyin had originally intended to fill Meng Zhou's stomach along the way and had sent someone riding at full speed to bring hot food.

But his feelings were rather complicated now, and he wanted Meng Zhou to experience them too.

Chu Huaiyin pointed toward the gravestone. "Lord Meng liked fish. Hurry and set it out."

He would let Wang Junyang benefit this once.

The shadow guard was a little confused. Had they not agreed this was for Lord Guan? Yet His Majesty's gesture clearly proved he had not misheard.

Sure enough, Lord Meng still held the higher place in His Majesty's heart. How could the living compare with the dead? The shadow guard had probably been secretly reading quite a few melodramatic substitute-lover stories over the past two days; his imaginings were rich with philosophy.

Having been out for so long, Meng Zhou really was hungry. Chu Huaiyin's consideration had not been without reason.

What was it like to watch your beloved food become an offering-and an offering to yourself, at that?

Meng Zhou condemned Chu Huaiyin with his gaze. We're both adults. Don't be so childish.

The childish Chu Huaiyin even spoke to provoke him. "There were not many Snow Spots at Prince Huai's Residence. This is the last one. A wandering Daoist gave me a few back then, and I raised them for five or six years. I am rather reluctant to part with them."

Meng Zhou did not know how plentiful Snow Spots were. He had assumed there were more than they could eat. After hearing Chu Huaiyin's words, he looked at the dish with even greater sorrow.

He really wanted to drag Wang Junyang out and lie in there himself to enjoy it.

Meng Zhou swallowed, letting all his grief flow into his stomach.

Amused by his little looks, Chu Huaiyin finally felt the balance restored. He explicitly told Meng Zhou that he wanted to change the inscription on the gravestone.

Wang Junyang had, in a way, taken a calamity in Meng Zhou's place this time. Chu Huaiyin magnanimously decided not to dig up the grave, but the name had to change.

That would inevitably mean Jiang Yi would find out. Chu Huaiyin asked whether Meng Zhou wanted to tell him himself or have the emperor tell him.

For no apparent reason, Meng Zhou remembered what he had overheard at the foot of the general's residence wall.

His uncle would beat his nephew!

Besides, he was not the real Meng Zhou. He could bear neither his uncle's cudgel nor his affection.

Without warning, Meng Zhou became trapped in a stubborn train of thought. Was everyone who treated him well doing so because of his identity as Meng Zhou?

He had wanted to exclude Chu Huaiyin, but suddenly remembered that Chu Huaiyin had initially sent people to protect him because Jiang Yi had asked him to.

Here and now, he found he did not know whom Chu Huaiyin's good temper and patience, so unlike an emperor's, were really meant for. How much was for the Jiang Clan's Meng Zhou? How much was for Meng Zhou from another world?

That alone made him feel terribly wretched. Meng Zhou lifted his eyelids to steal a glance at Chu Huaiyin-

Are you doing it for Jiang Yi's sake too?

However good its feng shui, a graveyard could easily foster negative emotions. Perhaps this was what people called yin energy.

Chu Huaiyin, his wet nurse, Li Wenle, Jiang Xin, Jiang Yi, the abbot... These were what Jiang Yao had left him.

Old Madam Guan, Afu... They were because of Guan Jiasheng.

With his hand hanging at his side, Meng Zhou carefully pinched his clothes, then carefully smoothed out the creases. The only one who belonged entirely to him was this unborn child, wasn't it?

"Give it another ten days," he said quietly.

Ten days later was the anniversary of Jiang Yao's death. Jiang Yi would certainly go to pay his respects. Then, before Jiang Yao's grave, he would admit everything.

The original owner of this body had been killed by Meng Huaihan. He could not be the only person who knew of that injustice. Perhaps concealment was kindest to the living, but it was absolutely unfair to the dead Meng Zhou. Given the grand general's character and his experiences facing life and death, surely he would not put him on a pyre.

Living for the Meng Zhou who shared his name, living for the unconscious Guan Jiasheng-Meng Zhou realized with a start that the shackles around his neck had never loosened in this life. Suddenly, he could hardly wait for Meng Fushan to fall. Once he had avenged the original owner and Jiang Yao, would things feel a little easier?

He thought that Chu Huaiyin asked him every day whether he was Meng Zhou, but his answers had not actually been wrong, had they?

Chu Huaiyin saw Meng Zhou's spirits suddenly sink. It was not an act, nor was he deliberately shedding tears to win sympathy, yet this left him more at a loss than anything.

Chu Huaiyin hastily reviewed what he had just done. He had given Meng Zhou's favorite fish to the detestable Wang Junyang! He had pressured Meng Zhou to admit his identity to Jiang Yi!

Instinct told him the reason was not so simple. When he first met Meng Zhou, the man had happily munched steamed buns every day. He talked of promotions and riches, but was actually the most indifferent to them. He had done so much for the Jiang Clan; admitting his identity would merely give him one more person to protect him.

Then what exactly was the reason?

Chu Huaiyin put an arm around Meng Zhou's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "What unhappy thing have you thought of? I was lying to you. There are more Snow Spots. If you do not want to tell your uncle, we will not tell him."

In truth, the Snow Spots really were almost all eaten, but as long as Meng Zhou wanted them, he would be the decadent emperor who sent riders racing through clouds of dust to win his consort's smile. As for Grand General Jiang, I uncovered the kitten's disguise through my own abilities. Why should I simply tell him?

Meng Zhou stared at his emperor, dumbfounded. Is it really gentlemanly of you to contradict yourself like this?

Meng Zhou felt a trace of pressure, and a sense of duty arose within him to help Chu Huaiyin establish an image as a man whose word carried immense weight. With an air of sweeping grandeur, he declared, "We must tell him."

He even stamped his foot.

With that stamp, the prayer beads the abbot had given him fell to the ground. Meng Zhou bent to pick them up. At that very moment, an arrow grazed his back and struck the tree trunk opposite him, sinking in with a dull thunk. Had it struck Meng Zhou, it would surely have pierced straight through his chest.

"Watch out!"

Two arrows followed close behind. Without thinking, Chu Huaiyin snatched them out of the air. The shafts scraped across his palms, their brutal force tearing through skin and flesh. He scooped up Meng Zhou and stuffed him into the carriage, drew a sword from it, and thrust toward the direction from which the three arrows had come. With a thud, a muffled grunt sounded as a body fell in the woods.

Half the shadow guards surrounded the carriage, while the other half pursued the assassins into the woods.

Wind poured into the carriage, whistling through the tear in the back of Meng Zhou's clothes. Still shaken, he remembered Chu Huaiyin catching the arrows barehanded-he must have been hurt-and immediately began searching the carriage for a medicine box.

There were few assassins. Apart from the one Chu Huaiyin had killed outright with his sword, there were three more. They were brought back tightly bound, their features somewhat different from those of the people of Great Wei.

Meng Zhou told Chu Huaiyin to hold out his hands. Chu Huaiyin did reach out, but it was to embrace him.

"Meng Zhou, I was terrified," Chu Huaiyin said. So close-that arrow had come so close to hitting Meng Zhou.

Meng Zhou felt warm liquid pass through his torn clothes and flow directly onto his back, like lava seeping into his skin and branding his heart.

It was Chu Huaiyin's blood.

"You're hurt." Meng Zhou frowned. Don't hold me so tightly. You'll bleed more.

Chu Huaiyin released Meng Zhou. Each hand bore a bloody gash as wide as a thumb. Seeing Meng Zhou's brows drawn in worry, he suddenly felt he could seize the opportunity to make a request.

"I cannot bathe myself now." Chu Huaiyin looked troubled.

Meng Zhou raised his head, sympathy in his eyes. "Then the young eunuchs attending Your Majesty will have their work cut out for them."