In the Wu'an Mansion, the courtyard where the prince lived was covered with the shade of locust trees, and the corridors were covered with densely intertwined wisteria branches, casting mottled light and shadows, like an exquisite brocade pattern.
A dozen servants were holding sticks, catching cicadas between the branches of the locust tree. Prince Zhao liked quietness and hated the chirping of cicadas the most. If they didn't catch them cleanly, a few more of them would be torn to pieces.
Prince Zhao himself was painting in his study, and the person in the painting was still a figure.
After a while, there were several more fine paintings on the wall.
He had been in a good mood recently. For more than half a month, no corpse wrapped in straw mats had been carried out from the small door in the middle of the night, which was considered a rare thing in Wu'an Mansion.
He was a little uneasy when the King of Qi first arrived in the capital, but after almost a month, Huan Xuan did not take any action. He went to court and left court as usual, and occasionally went to the military headquarters and the Secretariat to discuss matters. Everything was the same as before he left the capital. He did not even go to the place where the incident happened, nor did he contact the Jingzhao Prefecture and the Criminal Court to check the case. No matter how you look at it, the death of the concubine did not seem to have any effect on him.
If there is any doubt, it is that he did not return to the palace and still lived in Chang'anfang.
However, Zhao Qinghui felt that this guy was making him feel enemies everywhere. The area around the palace was noisy, and it was not surprising that a solitary man like Huan Xuan liked to live in seclusion.
Thinking of the concubine from outside the house, Zhao Qinghui felt a little regretful. It was hard for him to arrange so many scenes for her, but he didn't expect that she died so easily. It was really unfair to her.
Zhao Qinghui was just thinking about it when he suddenly heard a servant outside the curtain say, "My dear young master, someone has delivered a letter to the door..."
Zhao Qinghui put down his pen and frowned: "Come in."
"Who sent it?" Zhao Qinghui asked.
The attendant stammered, "To answer your question, young master, this unfamiliar boy in blue clothes, whose family he was from judging by his attire, only said that the prince read the letter and left it behind and ran away."
Zhao Qinghui's face darkened: "How dare you send something of unknown origin into my study?"
As he spoke, he reached for the cane with iron spikes.
The attendant was so frightened that his face turned pale. He hurriedly said, "Young Master, please spare my life. I saw that the wooden box is very valuable. I was afraid that it might contain something important. I dared not not report it..."
As he spoke, he raised the ebony box above his head.
Zhao Qinghui saw at a glance that there was a branch of crabapple flowers embedded in the corner of the wooden box. The petals were decorated with mother-of-pearl and the branches were inlaid with silver threads. It was very elegant and exquisite. No wonder those dog slaves did not dare to throw it away.
"Put it down," he said.
The attendant carefully placed the wooden box on the desk.
Zhao Qinghui picked up the cane and hit him hard on the arm, then shouted, "Get out!"
His most capable henchman had to die because he knew too many things, and the remaining slaves were all useless. Zhao Qinghui always felt annoyed with them and wanted to vent his anger on them.
The servants in Wu'an Mansion were accustomed to being blamed for every little thing.
There was a flash of hatred in the attendant's eyes. He covered his bleeding arm and said "hey", then lowered his head and walked out.
After the person left, Zhao Qinghui removed the wax seal and opened the letter. There was only a thin piece of paper inside.
He took out the letter with trembling hands, and the blood in his body seemed to be boiling. His movements were extremely gentle and his expression was almost pious, as if it was a decree from heaven.
There were only a few words on the note: "On the 15th day of the eighth month, at 1:00 pm, in the Lotus Temple, there is something important to discuss."
There was no signature at the end of the paper, only a branch of crabapple blossom was painted on it.
Zhao Qinghui was extremely familiar with Ruan Yuewei's paintings and calligraphy - almost all of the paintings and handwritten poems that had left the Crown Princess's boudoir had been collected by Prince Zhao.
This crabapple flower and this handwriting are undoubtedly from Ruan Yuewei's handwriting.
Zhao Qinghui recalled that his mansion had received an invitation from the Grand Princess's Mansion some time ago, inviting his mother and him to attend a Mid-Autumn Festival banquet at Princess Qinghe's villa in Zhongnan Mountain.
He had not originally planned to attend the banquet - these banquets had separate seats for men and women, with men sitting in the outer courtyard and women in the inner courtyard, so he would most likely not be able to see Ruan Yuewei. Moreover, the banquet was held in Zhongnan Mountain, so he would inevitably be tired. His old illness had flared up since the beginning of autumn, and he had been taking medicine to recuperate during this period.
However, after receiving the secret letter, he suddenly changed his mind. The Lotus Temple was halfway between the capital and the eldest princess's villa in Nanshan. It was natural for the Crown Princess and her group to stop there for a rest.
Ruan Yuewei had never sent him any letters, let alone asked him to meet her, but Zhao Qinghui had no doubt about the authenticity of the letter. On the one hand, he was sure that he would not mistake his cousin's handwriting, and on the other hand, they now had a shared secret, and his cousin was anxious to ask him to meet her, probably to get back at the burning of that bitch.
Even so, he was already flattered. Originally, his cousin was like the moon in the sky and the flower in the clouds that were out of reach. He would never dare to dream of his cousin's favor. However, they had a shared secret, and this secret was like a red thread that tied them together tightly. As long as they had this secret, they would never be separated.
Zhao Qinghui carefully put the letter back into the envelope, pulled out a silk handkerchief from his sleeve, carefully wiped off the fingerprints of the dog slaves on the wooden envelope, and then gently placed the wooden envelope beside the pillow. His heart seemed to be soaked in honey water, and he was just looking forward to the arrival of August 15th.
…
On the tenth day of August, Huan Xuan finished his court and rode back to Chang'anfang. As usual, he locked himself in the small courtyard where Lu Suisui once lived. The plaque was broken, and now the courtyard had no name. The crabapple flowers in the courtyard were still there, looking at him coldly and mockingly, almost driving him crazy.
Grandma Gao personally brought a food box and cautiously advised outside the door: "Your Highness, please eat at least a little food. If you really have no appetite, you can drink some soup."
Huan Xuan said through the door, "I'm not hungry. Madam, go and have a rest. Close the gate."
Grandma Gao stood outside the door for a long while, sighed, and finally turned around and left.
Huan Xuan picked up the wine pot on the table, filled a cup with it, took a sip, the wine had already turned sour, his stomach was empty, and drinking the sour wine was like a hand stirring in his stomach, but he did not feel uncomfortable, and even felt a little relieved.
This is the celebratory wine that Lu Suisui brewed for him.
He drank one cup after another and soon the pot of wine was empty. Sour wine can also make people drunk, but he was more sober than ever.
He lay on the couch fully clothed, hugging tightly the blue cotton robe left by Lu Suisui - he always thought this robe was ugly, but this ugly robe was the only thing that did not belong to Ruan Yuewei, but only to Lu Suisui.
He stared blankly at the ceiling of the tent, which was also woven with a pattern of crabapple flowers. His eyes were hazy, and the crabapple flowers began to sway and blink at him, mocking him even more.
He suddenly sat up unable to bear it any longer, strode towards the door and pushed it open with force.
I don't know when the sky got dark. There were neither stars nor moon in the sky. The night was so black and gloomy, like thick ink that could not be dissolved, and it seemed as if it would never light up again.
The gust of wind lantern under the corridor was swaying, casting a dim and bleak light, the halo of which reflected a precious crabapple tree.
Huan Xuan was filled with rage from the bottom of his heart. He pulled out a long knife from his waist and chopped at the crabapple tree. The crabapple tree let out a sharp cry and broke in half. Black blood actually flowed out from the broken part.
Huan Xuan was startled, and when he looked carefully, he found that the blood that flowed out was not blood, but kerosene.
The kerosene spread all over the ground, flowed into the courtyard, and then spread along the steps, covering the corridors and then pouring into the house.
Huan Xuan suddenly understood what he should do now. He was overjoyed. He took down a lantern, broke the glass cover with his hands, took out the candle and threw it into the room.
With a "whoosh" sound, the fire snake jumped up several feet high and quickly spread along the door frame, beams, and pillars. The shade of the crabapple tree, the curtains of the crabapple tree, the desk, bed, and screen of the crabapple tree were all burned, and the whole yard became a sea of fire.
He stood in the courtyard and couldn't help laughing. The smiling eyes that tortured him finally turned to ashes in the sea of fire.
At this moment, a familiar voice suddenly rang out from the room, a little hoarse, but extremely moving, like a silk gauze gently caressing the ear, but the voice was crying out: "Your Highness, Your Highness, why did you burn me to death, Huan Xuan, you have such a cruel heart..."
Huan Xuan was horrified. He stood in the fire but felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave. There was not a trace of warmth in his body.
He turned around and rushed into the sea of fire, and suddenly saw Lu Suisui sitting on the bed crying.
He ran towards her, and when he saw that she was only a few feet away, he heard a loud bang and a burning beam fell down, blocking the crowd.
"Don't be afraid, I will get you out." Huan Xuan walked towards the fire. The flames licked his feet. Soon his legs were burning, giving off an unpleasant burnt smell.
But he didn't feel anything.
"Don't be afraid, I will rescue you." Huan Xuan looked at Sui Sui and said.
Lu Suisui's face was distorted in the firelight. She was clearly crying, but it looked like she was smiling.
"Your Highness, you said you would never leave me alone from now on." She said softly.
Huan Xuan felt a dull pain in his chest: "It's my fault. Let's escape first."
"You go by yourself. I won't go with you," Lu Suisui said, "I want to go back to Qinzhou to find my father and mother."
"Don't talk nonsense. Your father and mother passed away a long time ago." Huan Xuan reached out to touch her.
She was clearly within reach, but he could not catch her. She floated around like a shadow.
"Then I want to be with them too," Lu Suisui chuckled, "Your Highness, please go, the fire has started."
Huan Xuan said: "You come with me."
Sui Sui shook his head: "Your Highness, have you forgotten? I am just a fake, just a substitute for Ruan Yuewei. Do you think I did a good job? Those crabapple flowers are so beautiful. It would be a pity to burn them."
She suddenly stopped smiling and said coldly: "Huan Xuan, do you think you can forget what you did just by burning it? Why do you forget? I still remember that you said it yourself, that someone like me is only fit to be a fake for the rest of my life..."
Huan Xuan felt as if his heart was being cut by a knife: "Stop talking, Sui Sui, come out with me."
Sui Sui tilted her head, her amber eyes full of confusion: "Your Highness, don't you like to call me Atang?"
She frowned, her face turned pale, and cold sweat broke out on her forehead: "I am in so much pain, Your Highness, do you hate me? Is it because I don't look like the real me?"
Huan Xuan's heart seemed to break into thousands of pieces. He walked over and hugged her: "Sui Sui, just be Sui Sui, don't be anyone's substitute."
She stretched out her arms and wrapped them around his neck, letting out a soft "hmm".
Huan Xuan felt relieved, and ran out holding her tightly. He ran to the courtyard in one breath, and heard a loud "boom" and half of the house collapsed.
Huan Xuan breathed a sigh of relief and carefully put the woman in his arms down on the ground: "It's okay, Sui Sui, it's okay."
The woman chuckled and said, "Sanlang, you called me the wrong name. I'm Atang."
Huan Xuan was shocked. He looked carefully and found that the person in front of him was not Ruan Yuewei.
"Where's Suisui?" he asked, looking down for her.
Ruan Yuewei said: "Sanlang, from now on I will accompany you, what do you need that fake for?"
"Where is Lu Suisui?" Huan Xuan could hardly utter a sound.
Ruan Yue smiled and pointed to the bedroom window: "The fake is there."
Huan Xuan looked in the direction she pointed and saw Lu Suisui through the half-open window.
She was wearing that blue cotton gown, standing in front of the window and smiling at him: "Your Highness finally recognized me."
Before he finished speaking, flames shot up from below.
Huan Xuan was too late to do anything and could only stare blankly at her being engulfed by flames.
It was as if an awl had pierced through his heart. He suddenly woke up and sat up from the bed: "Sui Sui, Lu Sui Sui..."
"Your Highness, I'm here," a familiar voice sounded beside him, "Are you having a nightmare again?"
Huan Xuan turned his head and saw Lu Suisui lying beside him, her amber eyes showing the familiar tenderness.
"I was wrong," Huan Xuan hugged her tightly, "I will never hurt you again, I will never let you be alone, I will treat you well..."
He paused, buried his face in her neck, greedily sniffing the scent that haunted him.
The woman stroked his back and sighed deeply in his arms: "Your Highness, it's too late to say this now..."
Before he finished speaking, his arms suddenly felt empty, and when he looked again, only a green cotton robe was left.
Huan Xuan felt a heart-wrenching pain that made him double over.
He woke up in pain, opened his eyes, and held in his arms a blue cotton gown that had been washed so much that it looked pale.
He lay on the bed, the evening sunlight shone through the window lattice onto the bed and was reflected on the ceiling of the tent, swaying gently like water waves. The crabapple flowers were still mocking him, but he didn't know whether he was awake or still trapped in a dream.
He sat up, rolled up his sleeves, picked up the dagger beside the couch, and cut a gash on the inside of his arm.
Blood flowed down his arm, leaving more than twenty wounds of varying depths and ages.
He is awake.