She had no idea why there were so many mosquitoes in the middle of winter, buzzing and droning without stopping.
Maybe it was because of the wilderness outside, with its overgrown grass and trees.
Zhu Qingyu, still half-asleep, convinced herself of this reasoning, then smacked her palm down again. This time, the person who had been chattering endlessly and refusing to sleep in the dead of night finally shut up for good.
She slept soundly through the night. The blankets were too cozy, and being far away from the high-pressure environment of the palace made both her body and mind feel relaxed. She slept so deeply that when morning came, she could hardly wake up.
The Eldest Grand Princess was in a hurry. It wasn’t even fully light yet when the time to depart drew near. Worried that Zhu Qingyu might not wake up in time on her own and delay their schedule, she specially sent her trusted maid Aunt Zhuyue to rouse her.
Because Zhu Qingyu had been whisked directly out of the palace by the Eldest Grand Princess without any servants, luggage, or even silver coins—she had nothing at all—the Eldest Grand Princess had assigned Aunt Zhuyue yesterday to manage her daily needs.
Aunt Zhuyue brought two maidservants, carrying a copper basin and towels for washing, and knocked on the door of Zhu Qingyu’s guest room, calling out:
“Doctor Zhu, are you awake? This servant is here to assist you with washing.”
The door swung open almost immediately, but a man came out of the room. He reached out to take the copper basin and asked:
“She’s still asleep. Give it to me first. What time do we leave?”
The three people at the door all stepped back in fright, and the maidservant holding the copper basin was so startled she nearly dropped it.
Gu Zhao, quick with his hands, stepped up and caught it, then asked again:
“What time do we depart?”
Aunt Zhuyue was a notable figure even among the Eldest Grand Princess’s attendants. The last time Gu Zhao had visited the Eldest Grand Princess to apologize for his rudeness, she had met him.
Not only did she recognize Gu Zhao, but Aunt Zhuyue even knew about the betrothal negotiations between him and the eldest young lady of his household.
So upon seeing Vice Minister Gu emerge from Doctor Zhu’s room, Aunt Zhuyue’s eyes widened. Forcing herself to stay calm, she replied:
“At the hour of Chen (7-9 AM).”
Gu Zhao carried the copper basin inside, then came back to take the tray from the other maidservant, saying:
“Alright, got it.”
Vice Minister Gu took the items and closed the door with a snap, leaving the three stunned individuals outside staring at one another, utterly at a loss.
One maidservant asked:
“Auntie, should we wait?”
Wait? Something huge had just happened!
Aunt Zhuyue took a deep breath and rushed off toward the Eldest Grand Princess’s guest room. One person leading, the other two maidservants saw Aunt Zhuyue fleeing and hurried after her, leaving the doorway silent once more.
By the time everyone had left, Zhu Qingyu still hadn’t woken up. She was wrapped in her blanket, sleeping peacefully.
Gu Zhao took a towel from the tray, dipped it into the copper basin, wrung it out, and carried the steaming towel to the bedside. Seeing Zhu Qingyu’s serene sleeping face, he almost couldn’t bear to wake her.
But if they delayed any longer, they’d miss the departure time. Gu Zhao bent down and gently pressed the warm towel to her face, coaxing softly:
“Get up first. Eat breakfast, and you can sleep in the carriage on the road.”
The towel was both hot and damp, and Zhu Qingyu’s eyes flew open.
The moment she saw Gu Zhao, she wasn’t fully awake yet, and for a brief moment, she couldn’t even tell where she was.
Zhu Qingyu sat up in a daze, obediently letting Gu Zhao finish wiping her face with the towel before she remembered: oh, oh, it was morning—time to send him away!
She cleared her throat; it still hurt. She tried to speak, but Gu Zhao naturally reached for her neck to remove the gauze, saying:
“We need to put on a new one today. I brought medicine for you. I’ll change it for you on the road.”
Zhu Qingyu pressed down on his hand and said:
“You, go back.”
Why are you so determined to send me away? Is it because you want to leave me behind, to vanish while I’m not paying attention?
Is the time I can spend with you like this destined to dwindle day by day?
Gu Zhao longed to ask but forced himself not to. He was afraid of accidentally touching some forbidden topic he didn’t know about, which might hasten her disappearance.
So suppressing the bitterness and reluctance in his heart, he sidestepped her topic and avoided arguing with her, simply saying:
“I haven’t had anything to eat—almost a full day without food. How about having breakfast together?”
Oh, oh, that’s true; he had to eat too. She could send him away after the meal. Zhu Qingyu nodded.
For someone of the Eldest Grand Princess’s status, even if she traveled lightly, her retinue of guards and servants still numbered several hundred, and the baggage carts totaled several dozen.
With so many people to feed, a single post station couldn’t possibly supply enough, so even breakfast was cooked by the Eldest Grand Princess’s own chefs.
Zhu Qingyu, on imperial orders to go to the northern frontier to treat an epidemic, was an honored guest of the northern regions. Following the Eldest Grand Princess’s instructions, she was provided for according to the same standard as the two Misses Wen.
Thus, when breakfast was laid out, even at this desolate spot on the outskirts of the capital, Aunt Zhuyue’s servants brought up an unexpectedly lavish meal—more generous than the dishes Eunuch Fu had scrambled to fetch for her when she was in the palace.
But there was only one pair of chopsticks set out.
The meaning was clear: Zhu Qingyu wasn’t the only one who wanted Gu Zhao gone.
The Eldest Grand Princess had no intention of hosting this uninvited guest.
As Aunt Zhuyue set the table, she smiled at Zhu Qingyu—warm and professional, the proper demeanor of a high-ranking servant in a great household.
After laying out the meal, she turned to a certain someone and put on a stern face:
“The Eldest Grand Princess said this: ‘One may escort a guest a thousand miles, but all goodbyes must come.’ Is Vice Minister Gu planning to see her off all the way to the northern frontier?”
Just yesterday he was discussing marriage with one young lady, and now he’s entangled with someone else. Gu Zhao fully understood the Eldest Grand Princess’s anger. Not giving him chopsticks or food was nothing; not sending guards to drive him away was already a testament to her grace and breeding.
Gu Zhao smiled and said:
“I arrived too late last night to disturb the Eldest Grand Princess’s rest. Please, Aunt Zhuyue, lead the way and allow me to pay my respects to Her Highness.”
Aunt Zhuyue led him away. As Zhu Qingyu ate, she thought that judging by the situation, Gu Zhao would probably be sent back by the Eldest Grand Princess.
On this matter, her interests aligned with the Eldest Grand Princess’s, so she hadn’t spoken up just now.
And since the Eldest Grand Princess had stepped in, there was no way Gu Zhao could stay.
But he hadn’t eaten for a day. It wasn’t right for him to go back hungry.
What if he fell off his horse on the way from hunger?
No, forget it. He was a grown man—he wouldn’t starve to death. If the Eldest Grand Princess didn’t give him chopsticks, the post station would serve breakfast.
Still, he was from such a distinguished family. Whether he could stomach the coarse fare at a post station was another question.
Eating and thinking, Zhu Qingyu looked at the large spread of food in front of her and thought, well, I can’t possibly finish all this, and it would be a shame to waste it. Wasting food is disgraceful, and every little bit saved helps. So she pulled a handkerchief from her bosom and wrapped up a few pastries, choosing the ones that were easiest to carry.
Gu Zhao returned from paying his respects to the Eldest Grand Princess just in time to see Zhu Qingyu sneakily wrapping the pastries. He smiled and asked:
“Are you afraid you’ll get hungry on the road? Hoarding snacks like that?”
Zhu Qingyu handed him the wrapped handkerchief and said:
“Eat this on the way.”
Gu Zhao accepted it with flattered surprise:
“For me? Were you worried I’d go hungry?”
Zhu Qingyu refused to admit it:
“Just didn’t want it to go to waste.”
Gu Zhao tucked the pastries into his robe, grinning so wide the corners of his mouth nearly reached his ears:
“Right, right, no waste. I’ll eat them on the road.”
She had been forcibly taken from the palace by the Eldest Grand Princess the day before, so Zhu Qingyu had never had a chance to bid Gu Zhao farewell, nor the opportunity to grieve the parting.
Though she had already resolved to physically distance herself, to cut ties with him from now on—survival came first—now that Gu Zhao stood before her, knowing this farewell might mean they never saw each other again, Zhu Qingyu suddenly felt a pang of melancholy. The sorrow of parting swelled in her heart.
In that fleeting moment, emotion overtook her, and even reason took a step back.
Zhu Qingyu reached out, and under Gu Zhao’s astonished gaze, she embraced him.
A feather-light kiss, one that barely began before it ended, landed on Gu Zhao’s cheek. Someone whispered:
“Vice Minister Gu, take care.”
