When Zhou Sanwei escorted the prisoner back to Bianjing, a servant informed him that the Third Prince had already requested permission to leave the capital for Yingchuan.
Even the usually unflappable Zhou Sanwei couldn’t hide his surprise as he repeated the news. After a brief pause, he nodded faintly.
"If it’s His Majesty’s decree, then there’s nothing more to say. Besides, guarding a fief isn’t such a bad thing. Official duties call—I must report to the palace first. We’ll discuss everything after I return."
In the imperial study, Zhou Sanwei delivered his report on the Yuxi case with an impassive expression before stepping aside without another word. The only sound in the quiet room was the steady drip of the water clock. The Emperor glanced at him a few times, his thoughts inscrutable.
Upon leaving the study, Zhou Sanwei wasn’t surprised to find Eunuch Li, Noble Consort Xian’s attendant, waiting for him.
"Lord Zhou, Noble Consort Xian has been deeply concerned during your absence."
Zhou Sanwei accepted the invitation without comment and left. He had his own people in the Imperial Guards—he would investigate this himself.
Once he pieced together the full story, Zhou Sanwei sat in his study, his face dark with anger as he tore the palace invitation to shreds.
"That child must have been truly heartbroken to leave the capital without consulting me first."
"Inform Noble Consort Xian that official matters prevent me from attending. I beg her forgiveness."
His sister had always favored the Second Prince, her bias so blatant it was almost laughable. The Second Prince was selfish and scheming, qualities even Zhou Sanwei despised—how could the Emperor not see it?
As his nephew, Zhou Sanwei had dropped hints, but the fool remained obstinate, still hoping to ride Old Traitor Murong’s coattails. Did he not realize how dangerous that was? One misstep, and he’d be burned alive.
The Emperor was still in robust health, yet they were already jostling for position like clowns in a farce. Pathetic.
None of them could hold a candle to the Third Prince.
Zhou Sanwei sighed. The Third Prince was talented, courageous, and far more capable than those who only knew empty theories. Yet the Emperor and Noble Consort Xian remained blind to his merits.
"Once he goes to Yingchuan, returning won’t be easy. And Yingchuan is Imperial Concubine Xu’s hometown—he’d have been better off choosing Shu."
With that thought, he picked up his brush and began writing a letter. No matter what, as an uncle, he had to protect his nephew.
Wait—
Yingchuan wasn’t just Imperial Concubine Xu’s hometown.
As if their minds were linked, before Zhou Sanwei could finish his letter, a servant announced the arrival of the Third Young Master.
"Father!! You must stand up for me!"
Zhou Sanwei’s eyebrow twitched.
"Get in here, you brat!"
Zhou Qingyuan sauntered in with a grin, pulling a letter from his robes and handing it over before pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Here, Father. From Cousin."
Xiao Youcheng, aware that his father’s spies surrounded him, hadn’t dared to send the letter directly. Instead, he entrusted it to Zhou Qingyuan with instructions to deliver it only after Zhou Sanwei had reported to the Emperor.
And so, the moment his father returned, Zhou Qingyuan came knocking.
Zhou Sanwei swatted his hand away and snatched the letter, scanning its contents swiftly before lighting it with a flame. The fire flickered between them, casting a solemn glow on their faces.
"Honestly, Father, if not for Auntie’s sake, I’d have punched the Second Prince ages ago."
Zhou Sanwei felt the same, but the time wasn’t right.
"Don’t act recklessly. The Third Prince may be young, but he’s sharp. If he seeks revenge, he won’t need our help."
Their role was to stand behind him, ready to serve when called.
"The Third Prince is too soft-hearted! Does he still believe the Second Prince values their brotherhood?"
Zhou Sanwei shook his head.
"You understand nothing!"
This was a masterstroke—undermining the enemy while letting them destroy each other.
"Father! Sit down! Let’s talk this through—no need for violence!"
Zhou Sanwei pulled a gray steamed bun from a cloth bag and tossed it at Zhou Qingyuan.
"Eh? What’s this?"
"Eat it."
Zhou Qingyuan was appalled.
"Father, this is too much! Are you feeding me like a dog?! I’m telling Grandmother!"
Zhou Sanwei took a deep breath, resisting the urge to hit him.
A scholar by nature, he had four sons. The eldest, Zhou Yongzhuo, lived up to his name—simple, honest, and utterly guileless.
The second, Zhou Tian’ao, had grown into a mystic, always climbing rooftops to stare at stars and waving a compass around like he was one step away from becoming a monk.
The third, Zhou Qingyuan, was at least normal—if by "normal" one meant a carefree, insufferable rascal. He’d have to make do with what he had.
The fourth? Only five years old—too early to tell.
Had the Zhou family’s ancestral graves been misplaced? How had he, Zhou Sanwei, ended up with such misfits?
"The Third Prince wanted Yingchuan from the start—for someone named Lu Chao."
"Who? The guy who made this bun?"
Whack! Zhou Qingyuan clutched his back, wincing. His father’s strikes hadn’t lost their sting with age.
"Last year, the Third Prince was kidnapped in Yingchuan and rescued by a boy named Lu Chao. They formed a bond and have corresponded since. Despite his youth, Lu Chao is brave and resourceful. The Third Prince likely intends to recruit him."
"But here’s the twist—the Emperor knows about Lu Chao too."
Zhou Qingyuan took a bite of the bun and nearly spat it out, shooting his father a puzzled look.
"What does that mean?"
Zhou Sanwei’s grim expression suddenly brightened. He thought he understood the Emperor’s plan now. There was still hope.
"Never mind. Your brain wouldn’t grasp it anyway. Just eat."
Zhou Qingyuan stared at the unappetizing bun, hesitating before deciding his grandmother definitely needed to hear about this.
"Consider this practice. You’ll get used to it eventually."
Zhou Qingyuan: What?!
Zhou Sanwei sipped his tea meaningfully. The Third Prince would bide his time in Yingchuan for years. He couldn’t let the Lu Family monopolize all the advantages—he’d have to send his thick-skinned son to stake a claim, whether they liked it or not.
Unbeknownst to Lu Chao, two forces were already heading his way.
These days, he’d been helping Lu Yuanzhao pack Lord Lu’s belongings for the journey to Yuxi.
Having never been involved before, he was stunned by the sheer scale.
"Elder Brother, do we really need to bring the bed?"
Was this a relocation or a full-scale move? Everything from bedding to chamber pots was being replaced—enough to fill ten carriages. Just how barren was Yuxi?
"Bring it. Father is used to these things. It’s no trouble."
Fine. But why the sacrificial items?
"Those are for roadside rituals. Don’t touch them. Let me think—Uncle Zhong! Come check if we’ve missed anything!"
Lu Chao rubbed his nose—going out was such a hassle.
"Third Young Master, so this is where you’ve been! Lord Lu has been searching everywhere for you."
A panting servant hurried over, slightly out of breath.
Lu Chao was baffled. Ever since Lord Lu had received his transfer orders, he’d been either attending banquets or on his way to one, reeking so strongly of alcohol that it could practically pickle a person. What urgent matter could he possibly have with his underage son?
Before he even reached the study, he spotted Lord Lu standing in the courtyard, his face flushed red as he craned his neck in anticipation. The pungent scent of liquor hit Lu Chao from a distance.
"Chaochao! Hurry over here—this is an emergency!"
