To outsiders, Gu Zhao, as a relative of the imperial family, had ascended to high office at a young age, commanding the winds and rains, able to indulge his every whim and obtain anything he desired.
But in truth, his past life had always been one of being arranged.
At eight, he was ordered to enter the palace as a companion to the imperial prince. At nineteen, he was ordered to take monastic vows. At twenty-two, he was ordered to return to secular life. Every major turning point in his life had been arranged for the sake of his family.
Once, he saw no issue with this. As the eldest legitimate son of the family, bearing the weight of the clan's future and enjoying the best the family could offer, it was only right that he shoulder the corresponding responsibilities.
Even matters of marriage, he had once wholly entrusted to his elders to decide.
If it had been before, with the Empress Dowager arranging a betrothal, he would have gladly accepted whichever girl was chosen, regardless of her family.
But that was before. Now, everything had changed.
In his life, there were so few things he actively wanted. This one thing alone, he refused to have arranged any longer. The only one he wanted was her.
Facing the Empress Dowager's arranged betrothal, Gu Zhao replied:
"No. The others are fine, but they are not her. Aunt, I have said it before—I cannot change. It has to be her, no one else."
With that, Gu Zhao turned and left. The Empress Dowager watched his resolute retreating figure, unable to believe that the ever-stable and measured Gu Zhao had become so crazed, so obsessed over a married woman.
If it were a case of an unmarried man and an unmarried woman—even if her family background were modest, like the Zhuang family's—since he loved her so deeply, the Empress Dowager would be willing to grant her blessing and bring about a good match.
But now, having seen her own son trapped in an ill-fated entanglement with no way out, could she stand by and watch Gu Zhao follow the same path?
If she cut through the mess now and set things right, the pain and heartache would be temporary. Better to suffer a short pain than a long one.
Steeling her heart, the Empress Dowager demanded loudly:
"Zhao'er, have you gone mad? Do you dare defy the imperial decree? Do you truly believe I wouldn't dare touch her?!"
Gu Zhao halted and turned back, his face caught between tears and laughter:
"Yes, Your Majesty, I am defying the decree. If you touch her, your nephew will be unfilial and can only follow her in death."
He had truly gone mad!
He dared, for someone else, to defy his elder and threaten his own life to coerce her!
The Empress Dowager stared in shock as Gu Zhao turned and strode away, faster and faster, until he was nearly running, nearly flying, vanishing from sight in moments.
Ignoring the palace rule against running, Gu Zhao dashed through the corridors under the astonished gazes of eunuchs and maidservants. He raced back to the Grand Secretariat, frantically rummaging through the memorials on his desk.
Though the counterfeit military medical supplies case remained unresolved, the fact that fake pseudoginseng had been supplied to the northern frontier had to be handled immediately.
Otherwise, if the formidable enemy from the north took advantage of the epidemic to launch a surprise attack, soldiers would go to battle sick, and—wounded—would have no medicine for treatment. The mere thought of it was a catastrophe.
The Emperor had already issued an edict, ordering the Ministry of Revenue to swiftly draft a plan and assign suitable personnel to resolve the matter.
It was too late to purchase supplies from the capital and transfer them. Someone had to go directly to the northern frontier to oversee local procurement.
But an epidemic was raging there, and everyone in the Ministry of Revenue feared for their own safety. No one wanted to take on this deadly assignment.
So they pushed the task back and forth. To avoid being sent to the northern frontier, Ministry officials had been plagued by a streak of misfortune: broken legs, strained backs, colds, one sick leave after another. Top to bottom, it was hard to find even one able-bodied person.
Thus, the candidate for this mission had been debated for some time without being settled.
Gu Zhao had long finished drafting the memorial, except for one missing name—his own.
He tore through the desk in chaos, shoving some papers to the floor, knocking over the brush stand, scattering priceless writing brushes everywhere. Everything was a mess.
A minor official from the Ministry of Revenue came to seek Gu Zhao's advice on a matter. Seeing the normally calm Gu Zhao in such disarray, rushing about aimlessly, he hesitated even at the door, afraid to enter.
If he dared not enter, others dared. Xie Ze rode his little donkey all the way from home, entered the palace—heading straight for the Grand Secretariat instead of anywhere else—and went directly to find Gu Zhao.
Stepping through the door, ignoring the chaos on the floor, Xie Ze spoke without his usual lightheartedness. The moment he opened his mouth, his voice trembled as if he were about to cry:
"Cousin."
Gu Zhao, who had not yet finished dealing with his own matters, had no time for Xie Ze. He gave Xie Ze a cold glance, said nothing, and bent down to pick up the scattered brushes.
He remembered clearly: Xie Ze had even broken off the engagement with the Wen family for Zhu Qingyu. Someone like that—let him go to hell. Gu Zhao didn't want to bother with him.
Seeing Gu Zhao silent, Xie Ze stepped forward, his voice thickening with tears:
"Cousin, is it true—are you really betrothed to the eldest Miss Wen?"
Gu Zhao, who was picking up a brush, paused and glanced at Xie Ze again.
Was something off?
Had he been wrong all along? Could Xie Ze's heart belong not to Zhu Qingyu but to Miss Wen?
Gu Zhao picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and filled in his own name on the memorial before asking:
"Why are you concerned about the eldest Miss Wen? Weren't you in love with Doctor Zhu?"
Caught off guard by the question, Xie Ze stared at Gu Zhao in shock, stammering:
"That was before. She has a husband now. I can't keep loving her. Now... now..."
So it was true!
Gu Zhao finally broke into a smile. He closed the memorial and gazed at Xie Ze warmly:
"Cousin, how about eloping? Let's keep each other company—go seek our heart's desire."
...
The Grand Princess was in a hurry to return to the northern frontier, driving the entire convoy at a breakneck pace. They passed one posting station in the evening without stopping, only halting at the second one near midnight.
She also sent someone with a message: they would depart early the next morning, and asked Doctor Zhu to rest early.
Zhu Qingyu had dozed on and off in the jolting carriage, sleeping that way the whole journey. Now, at the posting station, she finally found a chance to ask for paper and pen from the station clerk to write a letter to Zhang Shen, telling him she had gone to the northern frontier.
One advantage of holding an official post and traveling on official business was that Zhu Qingyu could legitimately use the station's resources.
After sealing the letter and handing it to the clerk, Zhu Qingyu calculated that they were only about sixty li from the capital. The clerk could deliver the letter faster than the convoy. If it went out with tomorrow's morning mail, Zhang Shen could receive it by evening.
Should she write a letter to Gu Zhao too?
She picked up the pen, wanting to write something, then set it down.
Forget it. Better not. In these matters of appearances, since she had already decided on physical distance, it was best to have no further involvement with him.
After washing up, lying in bed, Zhu Qingyu tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Perhaps it was the cold weather. Or the hard bedboard. Or the thin quilt. Whatever the reason, sleep just wouldn't come.
The posting station was in the outskirts, isolated with no village or inn nearby. At this hour, under normal circumstances, no one would come seeking lodging.
Deep in the dead of night, in the utter silence, as Zhu Qingyu kept shifting restlessly, unable to fall asleep, voices came from the corridor.
Someone spoke.
“My lord, this is the room.”
Someone stood at the door of her guest room and replied,
“Thank you.”
It was Gu Zhao’s voice!
How could it be Gu Zhao’s voice?
Why was he here?
She must have heard wrong—surely she had mistaken the person.
Zhu Qingyu immediately leaped out of bed, hastily threw on a robe, and opened the door.
Gu Zhao stood outside, his hand raised as if to knock. The moment he saw her, a smile broke across his face.
Just as Zhu Qingyu was about to ask why he had come, the smile on Gu Zhao’s face abruptly shifted to anger. He gripped her shoulders, pushed her inside the room, slammed the door shut behind them, and pinned her against it, kissing her fiercely.
Trapped between the door and him, Zhu Qingyu felt dizzy from the impact and nearly breathless from his kiss. Just as she could barely catch her breath, he finally released her and hissed venomously in her ear:
“Zhu Qingyu, will I be struck down by heaven? Will I die a miserable death, be denied reincarnation, and suffer untold torment for eternity? Then let it be. Whatever retribution comes, I’ll bear it all. But don’t you dare think of running away—don’t even dream of it!”
