At the moment they brushed past each other, Sima Qing inexplicably felt a sense of being watched. He frowned slightly, but the sensation vanished as quickly as it came.
"Stop the carriage," he couldn't help but order.
The coachman ahead obediently halted the carriage. Mo Jin, who was beside Sima Qing, tensed slightly, remaining vigilant as he asked, "Your Highness, what's wrong?"
Sima Qing couldn’t quite explain the feeling. After a brief silence, he lifted the curtain and glanced outside, his gaze settling on a shaded spot under a tree. "Let’s rest there for now," he decided. "This one probably can’t take much more either."
As he spoke, his eyes fell on the unconscious figure lying on the other side of the carriage.
Understanding his meaning, the coachman drove over and stopped.
Sima Qing stepped out first, followed by the coachman, while Mo Jin carefully carried the unconscious man—Mei Wuchang—down from the carriage.
The cool shade worked wonders. Mei Wuchang’s face had been twisted in discomfort the entire journey, but now, as the cool breeze brushed over him, his furrowed brows relaxed slightly.
—Had Jiu Yue been here, she would have recognized this man, his face covered in scars, as the very Mei Wuchang she had once told to run and remember her!
Mo Jin crouched beside Mei Wuchang, watching as yet another fresh scar formed on his face, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.
"Your Highness… his poison has flared up again."
No wonder he had remained unconscious since morning.
Sima Qing gave a glance, and Mo Jin immediately understood, retrieving an antidote pill and feeding it to Mei Wuchang.
Due to the terrain, the northwest was home to many venomous insects and snakes, and the physicians here were often more skilled in poison than in medicine.
This journey had indeed been undertaken to escort Xiao Chi’s grandson over a great distance, but Sima Qing had another purpose—to find a cure for Mei Wuchang’s poison.
Just where had Prince Ping managed to acquire such potent toxins?
Even the military physicians of the northwest were helpless against this poison. After a moment of silence, Sima Qing asked Mo Jin, "Any word from Fu Yu and the others?"
Mo Jin shook his head. "But their letter yesterday said they’ve reached Qinxi. We should hear from them soon."
Sima Qing thought for a moment. "Then we’ll head straight to Qinxi. No need to return to the capital."
Mo Jin nodded. "Understood."
Noticing Mei Wuchang’s dry lips, Mo Jin fetched some water and carefully fed it to him. As he did, he discreetly observed his lord, relieved to see Sima Qing leaning against a tree with his eyes closed, resting.
At least he wasn’t staring at that money pouch again.
After Jiu Yue’s death, Sima Qing had ordered her and Xue'er’s bodies to be transported back to his estate. The emperor had seemed on the verge of saying something but ultimately remained silent.
In the summer heat, it was unwise to keep the bodies for long. Once they had been properly cleaned, Sima Qing followed Jiu Yue’s final wishes and buried them in the peach grove outside the city, where the blossoms had already fallen.
With Prince Ping dead, his estate was naturally searched.
Sima Qing hadn’t intended to get involved… but for some reason, he later found himself joining the search.
There, they discovered Mei Wuchang, unconscious, with a money pouch beside him. Inside were golden leaves and scattered silver, but Qiu Dongfang immediately recognized it as Jiu Yue’s—she had proudly shown it off to him after receiving her wages upon their return from Yunjiang.
Sima Qing recognized it too—after all, he had been the one to stuff the money inside.
Yet now, this pouch was in the hands of this scar-faced man… In the end, Sima Qing ordered Mei Wuchang to be carried back.
Though Mo Jin appeared rough, he was attentive when it came to his lord.
Jiu Yue’s death… had been a miscalculation on their part.
Somehow, over the years of playing their roles, the emperor had taken the act too seriously, truly believing Sima Qing to be a treacherous minister…
The late emperor and Sima Qing were not blood brothers, yet the former had treated him with utmost sincerity, entrusting the crown prince to him on his deathbed. Were it not for that, how could Sima Qing’s life now be reduced to just five more years?
The bond of those years had long since eroded.
After Jiu Yue’s death, Qiu Dongfang had sunk into gloom, Fu Yu reverted to his old silent self, and even Sima Qing often stared at that money pouch, lost in thought. Mo Jin grieved too, but he refused to let himself wallow.
If even he succumbed to despair, the estate would truly become lifeless.
With this in mind, Mo Jin steeled himself—
Only to hear a weak complaint from the man beside him:
"…Brother, why are you pouring water into my nose?"
Mo Jin froze, looking down to see Mei Wuchang glaring at him, coughing.
Mo Jin: "…Misunderstanding."
Mei Wuchang’s lips twitched. The pill he’d just swallowed was still lodged in his throat. He sat up, took the waterskin from Mo Jin, and gulped down a few mouthfuls himself.
Finally, he felt better.
Mei Wuchang had woken up briefly earlier and knew he was once again in the hands of the regent. What he didn’t understand was why Sima Qing had spared him—not only not killing him but even taking him to seek treatment.
In Mei Wuchang’s experience, employers like Prince Ping were the norm—ruthless and unscrupulous.
But he couldn’t be bothered to run.
Prince Ping’s methods of control were underhanded—poison was just the beginning. Mei Wuchang had only ever respected Jiu Yue, never intending to pledge his life to Prince Ping. But the prince had exploited his trust in Jiu Yue, using her to poison him.
Jiu Yue had never known.
Mei Wuchang no longer cared. She was dead, and he would be too soon enough.
This poison would likely claim his life within a month.
Mei Wuchang raised an eyebrow and asked bluntly, "Where are we now?"
"Wushuo," Mo Jin replied, recognizing his resignation. He didn’t hold their opposing sides against him. "No physician in the northwest can cure your poison. We’re heading south."
Mei Wuchang shrugged off the mention of his condition, perking up as he studied the city ahead. "Wushuo? I’ve never been this far before… I want to go into town and have some fun."
Mo Jin: "…"
Mei Wuchang turned to Sima Qing. "Your Highness, I want to go play! I want to buy souvenirs!"
Mo Jin’s eye twitched as he hastily pulled Mei Wuchang back. "Stop making noise. His Highness isn’t in the mood for shopping—"
Before he could finish, Sima Qing stood from under the tree, his gaze uncharacteristically gentle as he looked at Mei Wuchang.
"Let’s go. It won’t delay us much."
Mei Wuchang’s eyes lit up.
Such a considerate employer was a rare find!
He shot Mo Jin a smug look and dragged him along as they followed Sima Qing back into the carriage.
Mo Jin: "…?"
Jiu Yue and the Mute Girl rode swiftly, the clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels fading only as evening fell.
They had long left Wushuo behind, even passing through a small town along the way.
The Mute Girl checked the road ahead, then consulted the map, gesturing to Jiu Yue: Just beyond lies Great Yan.
Jiu Yue was in high spirits.
After all, she was returning as a princess—finally, a life of luxury awaited her!
After a brief rest that night, the two set off again at dawn, pushing forward with renewed determination toward Great Yan.
As soon as they arrived at the border city of Great Yan, the two were stopped.
"What's going on?" Jiu Yue, no longer wearing her bamboo hat, stepped down from the carriage and questioned the guards at the gate. "What did you just say we need to enter?"
The guard wasn’t hostile—especially after a gold leaf was slipped into his hand—and his tone grew even friendlier.
"A travel pass... Miss, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve come from Tianqi, right?" The official tucked his hands into his sleeves and explained, "Whether you’re here for trade or to settle down, anyone entering Great Yan from Tianqi must have an official travel pass issued by the authorities."
Jiu Yue: "..."
Jiu Yue froze.
Well, damn... they need a passport!
