Love Lock

Chapter 214 Twenty-Seven Arrows
Han Lei took over the business from Song Yuanqing's military camp. In fact, Zhao Zun was even busier, as he needed to create more construction teams.

Han Lei also sensed some of Song Yuanqing's thoughts, and to avoid unnecessary gossip and Zhao Zun's jealousy, she chose to avoid him.

The project at the military camp was handed over to Zhao Zun, who led the construction team to coordinate and implement it. He was also tasked with apologizing to Song Yuanqing.

After several busy days, Han Lei had arranged all the logistics matters in Ganluo County.

Of the six counties and two cities in Cangzhou, only Qingshui County, Fufeng County, and Beiguan City have been developed.

Now, a large number of refugees and beggars have been distributed to various counties in Cangzhou. Zhao Zun is busy here, so Han Lei needs to go and check on the other counties...

As night fell, torches were lit at the construction site in Ganluo County.

Tang Xiaotong stood outside the makeshift kitchen, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the raised scar on her left wrist.

Memories from ten years ago flooded back—the scimitars of the Turkic cavalry, the burning village, and his mother's blood-stained face as she pushed him into the cellar.

"Young man, would you like a bowl of hot soup?" A dusty laborer, holding a rough earthenware bowl, warmly greeted him.

Tang Xiaotong snapped back to reality and forced a smile: "Thank you, I... I'll wait a little longer."

After speaking, he looked at the dark-clad figure surrounded by craftsmen not far away.

Zhao Zun was bending over to inspect the newly laid plaster, the jade crown that held his hair back gleaming warmly in the firelight.

Although this King of Cangzhou was dressed in coarse cloth shorts that were no different from those of common laborers, he exuded an aura of authority without anger in his every move.

"Your Highness, this section of the roadbed will be completed tomorrow," the foreman reported respectfully.

Zhao Zun nodded, then suddenly turned his head as if sensing something. Tang Xiaotong hurriedly avoided his gaze, her heart pounding like a drum.

Although Zhao Zun was dressed as a commoner, as a prince of a prefecture and the marshal of the garrison in the North Pass, the imposing aura emanating from him made Tang Xiaotong, who had something on her mind, dare not look him in the eye.

"You are..." A deep voice sounded from behind. Tang Xiaotong was so startled she almost jumped up, turning around to meet Zhao Zun's deep gaze.

"Your Highness, I am Tang Xiaotong, the manager of Jinxiufang in the capital."

He stammered as he bowed, feeling Zhao Zun's imposing aura burning his chest like a branding iron.

"Tang Xiaotong? Are you one of the princess's people?" Zhao Zun's sharp gaze scrutinized his wealthy businessman attire like a knife.

With his exquisite Suzhou embroidery with cloud patterns and the mutton-fat jade pendant hanging at his waist, he looked nothing like the ragged, poor peddler that Han Lei had described.
He had heard Han Lei mention Tang Xiaotong and knew he was very skilled at business. That's why Han Lei entrusted her business in Beijing to him and that young man named Yang Haibo.

Tang Xiaotong nodded, "Yes, Your Highness. I have come to see the Princess Consort on some business."

Zhao Zun gestured for his guards to step back and led him to the corrugated steel roof shed.

The night wind swept across the unfinished section of the road, whipping up fine pebbles that slapped against my face.

Tang Xiaotong stared at the sword at the prince's waist, a sword said to have drunk the blood of a hundred Turks, and her throat tightened.

“The princess is no longer here. She has gone to inspect the counties of Cangzhou.” Zhao Zun accepted the coarse tea handed to him by his personal guard. “I don’t know where she will go first. If it’s a business matter, you can tell me, and I can help you resolve it.”

Tang Xiaotong bit her lip, hesitating and unsure how to begin.

After all, Zhao Zun was the garrison commander of Beiguan, and had fought against the Turks for many years. In fact, even Zhao Zun's father died in battle against the Turks.

He knew that Zhao Zun, like himself, must also hate the Turks.

Now, if he were to mention trading with the Turks, he would not know what kind of wrath Zhao Zun would inflict upon him.

But thinking of Princess Yujia's mournful and pleading eyes and the old scar on his wrist, he had no choice but to speak.

Tang Xiaotong took a deep breath and suddenly knelt on one knee: "This humble servant dares to speak, but I have something important to report."

Zhao Zun had already noticed the struggle in his eyes, and the sound of him putting down his teacup was particularly clear in the silence.

"Get up and talk."

"This humble servant...this humble servant wishes to request Your Highness to send a merchant caravan to the Turks for trade, or...to trade along the border." Tang Xiaotong's voice trailed off.

Zhao Zun suddenly stood up abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a cold and intimidating light.

Tang Xiaotong saw the bulging veins on Zhao Zun's hand and seemed to smell the charred flesh from the fire ten years ago.

He instinctively protected the wound on his left wrist, but the expected outburst of rage did not materialize.

The hooting of owls came from the distant poplar forest. Zhao Zun got up and walked outside the shed, the moonlight casting a long, slender shadow of his tall figure.

Tang Xiaotong then noticed that the jade crown used to tie the prince's hair was actually carved from Hetian jade, a material commonly used by the Turks.

"Do you know how my father died?" Zhao Zun suddenly asked, his voice eerily calm.

"Before winter arrived that year, my father was struck by twenty-seven arrows on the Turkic battlefield..."

Tang Xiaotong's fingernails dug deeply into his palms. Of course, he had similar memories of such horrific scenes.

He was twelve years old that year. An uncle from the same village came home to visit his family and brought back his father's sword from the Turkic battlefield, but he couldn't bring back his father's body...

“I…I’m sorry, Your Highness. I shouldn’t have brought this up…But Your Highness, you’ve seen famine too. Last winter, more civilians froze to death in Cangzhou and the Turkic Khaganate than soldiers died in battle…”

Zhao Zun suddenly turned around, and the surging emotions in his eyes stunned Tang Xiaotong, who dared not say anything more.

The area under the shed immediately fell silent.

Zhao Zun remained silent, only looking at Tang Xiaotong with a very complicated gaze, as if trying to see through his heart.

Tang Xiaotong lowered his eyes, nervously clutching the hem of his clothes. He understood that those twenty-seven arrows were Zhao Zun's eternal pain, and also his determination to desperately keep the Turks outside the northern pass.

"I know about this matter. You may return now." Zhao Zun's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Uh... go back to where?" Tang Xiaotong asked blankly.

With no clear answer from the prince and the princess not present, Tang Xiaotong was at a loss as to what to do.

Should he return to the Zhao family's residence in Fufeng County to continue waiting for the princess, or should he return to Jinxiufang in Jingcheng?
He has been out for over a month. Without him as manager, Jinxiufang will face many problems. He cannot betray the Princess's trust and cultivation; he must return to the capital as soon as possible to manage Jinxiufang well.

But if he returns to the capital now, what will happen to the promise he made to Princess Yujia?
When will his dream of peaceful coexistence and mutual exchange with the Turks be realized?
For a moment, Tang Xiaotong was caught in a dilemma.

Others have little influence and their words cannot change anything.

It seems he will have to break his promise to Princess Yujia.

Zhao Zun gave him a meaningful look: "If you have two places in your heart, you naturally won't know which way to step."

After saying that, Zhao Zun ignored him and instead unfastened his sword and threw it to his personal guard, saying, "Prepare the horse; I need to go to General Song's camp tonight."

A guard brought Zhao Zun's brocade-eared horse, and Zhao Zun gave him a deep look before mounting the horse.

"Giddy up!" Zhao Zun galloped away under the moonlight.

As Tang Xiaotong watched the prince's departing figure in the moonlight, she suddenly noticed that the scabbard of the prince's legendary sword was engraved with a peace prayer interwoven with Turkic and Kyokan scripts...

...This is a line for asking for comments...

At this time, in the Imperial Palace of the Great Jing Capital.

The moon was high in the sky, and its light, like frost, shone on the glazed tiles of the palace, bathing the entire palace in a cold, silvery glow.

It was already midnight, but the imperial study was still brightly lit. Ambergris burned quietly in a gilded incense burner, and wisps of smoke rose, but they could not dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the room.

Liu Huan, the King of Xuzhou—or rather, the newly enthroned Emperor Jing—was dressed in a bright yellow casual robe, his jade belt swaying with his hurried steps.

His brows were furrowed, and he felt uneasy.

He sent out two teams of assassins. One team had returned to the palace to report several days ago, but the other team seemed to have vanished into thin air and disappeared without a trace.

Could it be that some unexpected complications have arisen?
Unlike Emperor Qianlong, who was suspicious but also had some compassion, he believed in the adage "if you don't cut the weeds at the root, they'll grow back in the spring."

Therefore, after he successfully ascended the throne, he ostensibly released his brothers back to their respective fiefdoms, but secretly sent assassins to eliminate them completely.

Their goal is to have the opposite of what they want – to gain a reputation as a benevolent ruler while avoiding future trouble.

Jizhou is the farthest from the capital. The team responsible for assassinating the King of Jizhou has already returned, but the other team of assassins has yet to return, which makes him uneasy.

Emperor Jing's fingers unconsciously rubbed the jade thumb ring on his thumb, an auspicious object specially presented by the Ministry of Rites at his enthronement ceremony.

"Li Zhongxin." Liu Huan suddenly stopped, his voice low and deep like a muffled thunderclap.

Standing beside the sandalwood chair, the chief eunuch Li Zhongxin, who usually kept his eyes down and his mind focused on his inner thoughts, immediately bowed forward, his forehead almost touching the ground.

"The slave is here."

"Do you think something might have gone wrong in Liangzhou and Jingzhou?"

Emperor Liu Huan narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp as a knife: "The secret guards I sent were the most elite; they should have returned long ago."

Li Zhongxin remained bent over, but his inner shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.

He was an old man in the palace, and because he was good at judging the situation, he served three emperors—the late emperor, the former emperor, and the current emperor, the new emperor.

He knew his new master all too well—benevolent and kind on the surface, but ruthless in reality.

Therefore, he had his own insights into serving this new master.

These days, he has become more cautious than ever before, like a manually operated robot. He moves whichever part his new master presses, never daring to overstep the mark.

He was also well aware that after Emperor Jing was blown to smithereens, Liu Huan released several princes back to their fiefdoms under the guise of "brotherly love and respect," but secretly he had used underhanded tactics.

“Your Majesty,” Li Zhongxin said calmly, but dared not raise his head, “perhaps there was a delay on the road. Although Liangzhou and Jingzhou are close, they require a detour, and there were heavy rains a few days ago…”

"Bullshit!" Liu Huan slammed his hand on the table, making the memorials on it rattle. "They are all elites. Even if it were raining knives, they would never dare to delay on the road."

Li Zhongxin's knees buckled, and he knelt down on the ground. Images from ten years ago flashed before his eyes.

At that time, Liu Huan was still the eldest prince and lived in the palace. He fell in love with a palace maid named Cui'er and almost reached the point of wanting to marry no one but her.

After Cui'er became pregnant, he was overjoyed and boasted to everyone he met that he was going to be a father.

Just as he was taking palace maids as concubines and preparing many toys for his unborn child, several princes began their struggle for the throne.

It was all because Liu Huan's mother said something like, "Don't let this lowly palace maid affect his struggle for the throne."

Li Zhongxin witnessed firsthand how Liu Huan gently coaxed the palace maid into drinking the poisoned wine, and how he watched with heartbreaking pain as his beloved woman convulsed in agony at his feet, her unborn child dying in the womb...

At that time, he felt that Liu Huan was so ruthless that he would not even recognize his own family.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me! This servant is foolish..." Li Zhongxin pressed his forehead against the cold gold brick, feeling his heart pounding like a drum.

Liu Huan snorted coldly and turned to walk towards the window.

Moonlight streamed through the carved window lattice, casting dappled shadows on his face.

He recalled the oath he had taken before his ancestors in front of the Imperial Ancestral Temple on the day he ascended the throne—"I will govern the country with benevolence and virtue, and treat my people kindly." A cold smile involuntarily crept onto his lips.

"Li Zhongxin, get up." Liu Huan suddenly changed his tone, becoming so gentle it was chilling. "You are an old hand in the palace, and you are the one I trust the most."

Li Zhongxin stood up tremblingly, but dared not look directly at the emperor's face.

He then thought of the two ministers from five years ago—Lord Lin and Lord Qian.

They originally intended to install Liu Huan as emperor, but at the last minute they switched sides and supported Emperor Jing.

After Liu Huan took up his fief in Xuzhou, although he had left the capital for his fief, he left behind assassins who slaughtered the entire families of the two officials, including infants, all to vent his anger.

Both of these events caused a sensation in the capital at the time.

However, Emperor Qianlong had already seized imperial power, and the suspicious Emperor Qianlong had originally intended to replace the two murdered ministers anyway, so he didn't pursue the matter, and the matter was left unresolved.

The new Emperor Jing's voice rang in Li Zhongxin's ears again: "Do you think my third brother... the Prince of Liangzhou, might already be on guard?"

Liu Huan spoke very softly, his fingers gently tapping on the window frame.

Li Zhongxin's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

The scene of the Prince of Liangzhou leaving the capital flashed before his eyes—the usually refined and cultured prince bowed deeply to the new emperor to say goodbye, his eyes filled with resentment and helplessness.

"Your Majesty, the Prince of Liangzhou has always been loyal and kind..."

"Honesty and gentleness?" Liu Huan suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the empty imperial study. "Back when his mother, the Empress Dowager, poisoned my mother's favorite little white cat, he was just as honest and gentle as ever!"

Li Zhongxin quickly shut his mouth, daring not to say another word.

He remembered that cat—pure white fur, heterochromatic eyes, which the late emperor had specially sent people from Meng Kingdom to find for Liu Huan's mother.

When the kitten died, it was foaming at the mouth and curled up on the brocade cushion, like a clump of melting snow.

"Wait one more day." Liu Huan walked back to his desk, his finger tracing the map spread out on it. "If there is still no news by this time tomorrow, send the Black Cavalry to check. I would rather kill the innocent than let the guilty go free."

The words had barely left his mouth when hurried footsteps sounded outside the hall. A guard knelt hastily at the door, crying out, "Your Majesty, someone...someone requests an audience!"

A glint of light flashed in Liu Huan's eyes: "Who?"

Dance! Your Majesty, please reward your humble servant with a one-stop service: commentary, collection, and tickets!