The further north they traveled, the more desolate the winter scenery became, and the weather grew colder by the day.
Especially over the past few days, snow fell from time to time. Snowy roads were already difficult to navigate, and the Eldest Grand Princess seemed to have a daily travel plan. The convoy strictly adhered to the schedule. To cover enough distance, they arrived at the relay stations later and later, and set off earlier and earlier each morning.
With such grueling travel from dawn till dusk, Zhu Qingyu had even more reason to hide in the carriage and sleep during the day. Sometimes, when it was snowing, she even ate her meals in the carriage, avoiding Gu Zhao for several days straight.
Zhu Qingyu didn’t know why, but it felt as though someone had installed a radar inside her body that was always searching for Gu Zhao.
Even though the convoy was full of people and horses, making a lot of noise, she could still accurately pick out the sound of Gu Zhao’s horse’s hooves from a great distance.
The clip-clop of hooves grew closer, drumming against her heart. Zhu Qingyu’s heart lifted with the sound—he was coming.
Through the crack in the carriage window, she could see the corner of a dark-colored robe passing by slowly.
The hoofbeats faded gradually into the distance—he had gone. Yet the heart that had just been pounded still couldn’t suppress the violent, uncontrollable pounding that lingered.
Sometimes at meals in the relay station, as soon as Gu Zhao’s voice appeared—or even before he spoke, just his presence in the same space—Zhu Qingyu would sense him before she even saw him and quickly make an excuse to flee.
Because she deliberately avoided him, the two of them sometimes didn’t even see each other for an entire day.
Perhaps because what she had said that day had been too harsh, Gu Zhao no longer came to knock on her door at night. But he came up with something new: he became obsessed with giving her flowers during this long, tedious journey, no matter the wind or snow.
Sometimes it was wintersweet, sometimes camellias, sometimes jasmine. Today, he had even brought her a handful of unknown little purple flowers. It was hard to imagine how he found these blooms in such a bleak winter.
Every time Gu Zhao delivered the flowers, he would say a few words to Zhu Qingyu outside the carriage window.
Stuff like: “Did you sleep well last night in the cold?” or “You can sleep in a little longer—you don’t have to get up so early just to avoid me,” or “There was a plate of Sichuan-style pickled radish for breakfast today. I specially found it in the station chief’s private stash of homemade pickles. I tried it—it’s so spicy, you’ll definitely like it.”
Things like that—nothing but trivial, everyday chatter.
He talked on, but Zhu Qingyu always played dead and said nothing. Yet Gu Zhao didn’t seem discouraged. Even without any response from her, he kept on delivering flowers without fail.
That day, the weather finally cleared, and it wasn’t snowing. The convoy stopped by a riverbank to rest and have lunch. Aunt Zhuyue brought out Zhu Qingyu’s small personal table and led the maids in setting up her midday meal.
Although the main group had just arrived, lunch was ready quickly.
Since they usually stopped in sparsely populated wilderness for lunch, they had to build open-air stoves to cook. The cooks set off much earlier than everyone else, leaving before dawn, traveling for over an hour in advance. They found suitable spots along the way to set up stoves, timing it so that by the time the convoy arrived, the food was just ready.
When Zhu Qingyu got out of the carriage, she finally understood where Gu Zhao’s unknown little purple flowers came from.
The entire riverbank was covered in them, swaying in the wind, shimmering against the sparkling river water, full of life and exceptionally beautiful.
Zhu Qingyu’s gaze swept across the scattered groups of people eating on the riverbank and instantly locked onto Gu Zhao by the shore.
Unlike the past few days of travel, Gu Zhao wasn’t wearing his dark cloak today. Instead, he wore a robe the color of purple-red plum blossoms.
He was already tall, and wearing such a luxurious, eye-catching color, it was impossible not to notice him even in a crowd.
As if sensing someone watching him, Gu Zhao’s gaze immediately followed. Seeing it was Zhu Qingyu, he broke into a smile.
The last time she had seen his face was two days ago. After several days apart, the sudden sight left Zhu Qingyu momentarily stunned. She thought to herself: Actually, compared to the dark-colored clothes, he looks even more handsome in the purple-red robe.
The two stood across the crowd on the riverbank, their eyes meeting.
Seeing him start to walk toward her, Zhu Qingyu quickly averted her gaze, sat down at her small table, and focused on eating.
Given that they were on the road, in the northern winter, and with so many people, fresh food was hard to prepare. At lunch, the cooks only made pickled vegetables, cured meats, and easy-to-store items like cabbage and radishes.
After eating like this for several days, the meal could hardly be called tasty or untasty—it was merely for sustenance.
Someone approached—it wasn’t Gu Zhao’s footsteps. Zhu Qingyu looked up and was surprised to see Xie Ze.
Xie Ze held out a skewer of roasted fish, handing it to Zhu Qingyu with a smile:
“A little extra.”
Zhu Qingyu took it quickly and asked in confusion:
“Where did this fish come from?”
Gu Zhao followed closely behind and said:
“I caught them.”
If it had been just Gu Zhao, Zhu Qingyu would have fled long ago.
But since Xie Ze was there, and she was holding the fish, she couldn’t just throw it away, nor could she take it into the carriage to eat.
Unable to escape, Zhu Qingyu gave Gu Zhao a polite smile and tried to hand the fish back to him.
“Vice Minister Gu, since you rarely get the chance to catch fish, I really couldn’t accept this.”
Gu Zhao didn’t take it. Instead, he replied:
“Doctor Zhu, there are plenty more fish, not just this one. Besides, I have a request—I’d like to ask for your help tomorrow. Consider this a token of thanks. Tonight we’ll reach Gucheng, and tomorrow we’ll rest there for a day to purchase military medical supplies before continuing. I know nothing about medicinal herbs, so I’d like you to take a look tomorrow and make sure we don’t buy fakes that could cause trouble. Is that all right?”
If it had been any other matter, Zhu Qingyu would have refused outright. But procuring medicinal herbs was official business.
Besides, they would serve as officials in the same court from now on. They’d inevitably have dealings in official matters, and she couldn’t avoid him forever.
Zhu Qingyu stood up and said seriously:
“Vice Minister Gu, of course. Serving the court is my duty—I’ll do what I should.”
Xie Ze listened to them calling each other “Vice Minister Gu” and “Doctor Zhu,” and it grated on his nerves. He complained:
“Oh, come on, you two are way too formal! Ah, no, the fish, the fish—it’s going to burn!”
With that, Xie Ze dashed off. Afraid that without Xie Ze around, Zhu Qingyu would also run away to avoid him, Gu Zhao quickly said:
“Take your time eating. Don’t rush. I’m leaving.”
After they both left, Zhu Qingyu slowly ate the fish.
Perhaps after several days of cured meats and radishes, the fresh, just-grilled fish tasted so delicious that it felt like she had never tasted anything like it before.
Throughout her meal, Gu Zhao indeed did not come back over.
Back in the carriage, Zhu Qingyu looked at the small bouquet of purple flowers and thought again of the purple-brown robe Gu Zhao had worn today. Its bright, fresh color made it clear that it was a brand-new outfit he had just put on. And yet he had worn such a garment to catch fish—Vice Minister Gu’s obsession with appearances was truly growing more severe.
As Gu Zhao had said, the convoy indeed lodged in Gucheng that night.
Aunt Zhuyue, along with the maids, helped Zhu Qingyu wash up, and as usual, she asked:
“What would you like to wear tomorrow, Doctor Zhu?”
This was Aunt Zhuyue’s daily question, as routine as a work procedure.
In previous days, Zhu Qingyu had always answered:
“Anything, whatever works.”
Because even she herself didn’t know what luggage Gu Zhao had brought for her, and wearing one outfit or another didn’t make much difference to her, so she couldn’t be bothered to choose.
But for some reason, Zhu Qingyu glanced at the small purple flowers in the shallow porcelain pot on the table and suddenly changed her reply:
“What clothes are there? Let me take a look.”
