Watching Qinglong’s figure disappear, Yelü Qianxiao gave a cold smile. His fingertip slowly brushed over Lan’e, and the stabbing pain in his shoulder made his thick brows knit. He shifted through several positions, muttered under his breath about why that little eunuch still had not returned, and then, unable to withstand the effects of the medicine, sank into a deep sleep. His body was half-reclined, his head tilted slightly to the west, his long ink-black hair neither bound nor tied, rising with the wind and twining around his blue robes. Strands struck against his handsome, faintly flushed face; from afar, he looked like an ancient ink-wash painting.
The night outside the window darkened further. A fierce wind swept over the treetops, carrying a muffled, scorching heat.
In Weiyang Palace, inside a remote servants’ room, only two eunuchs were drinking beneath the moon.
“Come, come, this lowly one offers you a cup!”
The old eunuch seemed to have drunk quite a bit. He lifted his hand with his fingers curved delicately and chuckled. “Xiao Mozi, Ourself knew We hadn’t misjudged you. You know how to show respect.”
“Listen to what you’re saying—doesn’t that sound too distant?” Mo Bei filled the cup again and smiled ingratiatingly. “Serving you, gonggong, is only right and proper. In the future, this lowly one will still have to rely on you to promote me. However, there is one matter that I’ve thought about for a long time and still can’t make sense of.”
“What, hic! What matter?” Eunuch Deng gulped down a mouthful of huadiao wine, drunkenly hugging the wine jar and refusing to let go.
Mo Bei’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, and she shook her head with a sigh. “His Majesty seems to dote on the Fourth Highness especially. Even though the Third Highness suffered such serious injuries this time, he didn’t blame him by even half a sentence. Could it be that just because the Third Highness is a simpleton, he ended up like this?”
“A simpleton?” Eunuch Deng let out a fierce wine belch and slapped Mo Bei on the head. “Who are you calling a simpleton! That is the noblest, most exalted Crown Prince Qianxiao of Dunhuang!”
Crown Prince? Mo Bei, who had originally wanted to probe into the King of Dunhuang, felt a sudden ringing in her ears like a thunderclap. Yesterday, when she had visited Aofeng Palace at night, though she had not seen him with her own eyes, she had heard the crown prince’s voice—gentle and warm as jade, so very much like her elder brother’s.
But now Eunuch Deng was actually saying that Xiaoxiao was the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace?!
Mo Bei was incomparably astonished, yet nothing showed on her pretty face. She merely poured wine and served food even more diligently, deliberately scoffing. “Gonggong, could it be that you’re drunk? How can you speak such nonsense? He’s clearly a foolish prince, yet you insist on calling him the crown prince.”
“What would a little brat like you know!” Eunuch Deng angrily grabbed Mo Bei by the ear. “That was all because ten years ago, hic!”
“Ten years ago? What happened ten years ago?” Here it came, here it came—the important part had come. Mo Bei clenched her fists tightly, her back straightening tall and taut.
But the old eunuch did not understand the listener’s urgency. He tipped the wine jar in his hand, then staggered to his feet, swaying left and right. “Wine, where did the wine go? Come out, come out for Ourself!”
“Gonggong, the wine is here!” Mo Bei hurriedly pulled him back and handed him a cup of nü’erhong. “What was that about ten years ago?”
“Ten years ago? Did Ourself say anything about ten years ago?” Eunuch Deng froze for a moment, as if he had thought of something. Then he suddenly sprawled over the wooden table and began to wail, continuously mumbling drunken words like, “Your Highness, this old servant has wronged you.”
Seeing him like this, Mo Bei’s dark eyes grew even more bewildered. Everyone said people spoke the truth after drinking—could Xiaoxiao really once have been the heir to the Huang dynasty?
But why, then, was the emperor so cold to him? Why did he allow that little tyrant to go to Zhinuan Palace every day to bite people, without even bothering to intervene!
Ten years ago?
Rong Huachi had also mentioned it once, but just as he had said a single sentence, he had been interrupted by a knock on the door.
Now Eunuch Deng was saying the same.
Mo Bei frowned. Just what had happened ten years ago that could cause a crown prince to be reduced into a simpleton anyone could bully?
Layer upon layer of questions stifled her until she could hardly breathe. She reached out and pushed the utterly drunk Eunuch Deng, urging softly, “Gonggong, keep going. What happened ten years ago?”
“Your Highness, this old servant has wronged you, this old servant…”
“Gonggong, Eunuch Deng!” Mo Bei shook him hard several times, thinking to herself, Damn it, of all the times to fall asleep, why did he have to choose the most crucial moment to play dead? Wasn’t he deliberately leaving people hanging!