Chapter Seventy-Four: A Letter from Her Highness

“It’s not the abbess of Serenity Nunnery, but her junior sister,” Qin Wanru replied casually, unable to swat away the hand making a mess atop her head. Having accomplished her goal in coming here, she rose to take her leave.

“You’re leaving already?” Chu Liuchen asked with a smiling, amiable expression—he seemed easygoing, though appearances could be deceiving.

“Does the prince have other matters?” Qin Wanru probed cautiously.

“I have nothing further, but you’ll come back to find me again soon enough,” Chu Liuchen sighed, his smile gentle and harmless. If Qin Wanru hadn’t interacted with him before, she would surely have believed it.

“I... will I?” Qin Wanru blinked, unsure if he was speaking in jest or in earnest.

“I don’t know. I’m tired and need to sleep. Didn’t rest well last night. My arm hurts too!” Chu Liuchen closed his eyes, transforming from an elegant youth into one who looked weak and listless.

Qin Wanru blushed, glaring at Chu Liuchen in embarrassment and anger, then turned to leave. If she stayed longer, she feared she wouldn’t be able to resist striking this sickly, arrogant youth. Of course, it was just a fleeting thought.

When the sound of hurried footsteps faded, Chu Liuchen opened his eyes. The pale curve of his lips held a distinct smile—a hint of youthful laziness.

“Your Highness, the Consort has summoned you back to the capital. A letter has arrived!” A guard hurriedly emerged from the shadows outside, respectfully presenting a letter.

“I won’t read it,” Chu Liuchen replied coolly. Though his face still wore a smile, it carried a chilling undertone. Xiao Xuanzi quickly bowed his head, eyes lowered, standing motionless as if he were a wooden statue.

“But... the Consort says it’s important!” Sensing the icy atmosphere, the guard dared not lift his head.

Long, fair fingers reached out to take the letter, and the guard breathed a sigh of relief—at least His Highness was willing to look at it, and he could fulfill his duty.

But in the next moment, his relief turned rigid. The sound of tearing paper filled his ears, accompanied by the youth’s gentle words: “Let her give up. If she’d cared so much before, things wouldn’t be as they are! Who knew she could still pretend to be a loving mother?”

Though his tone was mild, the meaning carried a sinister, almost bloodthirsty chill. Unable to stand, the guard dropped to his knees with a thud. “Your Highness…”

Chu Liuchen waved dismissively, impatient. “Go back and tell her I’m not dying yet. She shouldn’t pretend to care when she has nothing else to do. I’m not a three-year-old she can fool!”

Turning away, he picked up a handkerchief and pressed it to his mouth, coughing violently.

Xiao Xuanzi immediately panicked, rushing to pat his back gently. “Your Highness, are you alright? Please, don’t worry, just take your time.”

Chu Liuchen continued coughing, unable to stop.

“Why are you still here?” Xiao Xuanzi, still patting Chu Liuchen’s back, barked at the kneeling guard.

The guard hurriedly withdrew, not daring to say another word.

Once the guard had left, Chu Liuchen continued coughing for a while before finally stopping. Xiao Xuanzi handed him some warm water; after a few sips, his breath steadied.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” Xiao Xuanzi’s face was full of worry.

“It’s nothing. I won’t die yet,” Chu Liuchen replied with a mocking smile—his lips pale as paper, clearly showing his poor condition.

“Should we invite the abbess of Serenity Nunnery to examine you? She might be the very person we’re searching for. Miracle Doctor Qi said the one we need is in this area!” Xiao Xuanzi urged—he had suggested this several times recently. If the abbess was indeed the person they sought, why wouldn’t his master seek her help?

The longer the illness dragged on, the worse it would become.

“What’s the rush!” Chu Liuchen finally stopped coughing, rubbing his aching head as he leaned heavily back in the recliner.

“Early treatment is best,” Xiao Xuanzi gently massaged his forehead, knowing that after every bout of violent coughing, Chu Liuchen always suffered dizziness and pain.

“If I get better, others will start worrying. This isn’t so bad,” he murmured, not loudly, but enough for Xiao Xuanzi to hear clearly.

“Your Highness…” Xiao Xuanzi’s eyes reddened with concern. “Are you really planning to wander like this forever?”

“Of course I’ll return,” Chu Liuchen replied calmly, his face expressionless, tone devoid of emotion.

Hearing his master still intended to return, Xiao Xuanzi was relieved. He’d feared Chu Liuchen would abandon himself, never seek treatment, never return to the capital, and eventually die out here. The thought nearly broke his heart.

“When will you go back?” Xiao Xuanzi wiped a tear from his eye.

“How many Phoenix Glazed Cups have you found?” Chu Liuchen answered with a question. In the sunlight, his eyelashes were long and curled, casting his face in an almost transparent pallor—an extreme sickliness.

“Seven or eight already,” Xiao Xuanzi replied. Though precious, the Phoenix Glazed Cups were not rare; traveling from the capital to Jiangzhou, they had already collected seven or eight.

“Should we inspect them carefully?”

“No need. I have few men—finding that many is already good. Who expects me to really discover anything?” Chu Liuchen spoke indifferently.

The cup found in the Ningyuan General’s residence had been an accident. He’d casually tested that little girl and unexpectedly found one—different from the previous Phoenix Glazed Cups, a real surprise.

But he didn’t intend to mention this surprise to anyone.

Accident or not—who cares!

The whole matter was just a pretext. No one truly expected him to accomplish anything. Likely, everyone hoped he’d die out here—that would be the simplest outcome.

“Your Highness, I think Second Miss Qin is very similar,” Xiao Xuanzi, Chu Liuchen’s trusted aide, knew exactly why his master had left the capital under this pretense.

“Similar or not—what’s the difference? The daughter of the Ningyuan General is fine too,” Chu Liuchen’s lips curved into a smile. The lifeless pallor of his face was softened by the smile, making him seem more human—no longer like a figure from an ink painting, beautiful but devoid of vitality.

“Your Highness, you might ignore this matter, but what about your own affairs? The Dowager Consort has been pressing for a long time—even the Emperor… Well, you must consider it,” Xiao Xuanzi gently massaged Chu Liuchen’s forehead, quietly reminding him. Returning to the capital meant the troublesome matter would be brought before him again.

“I’ll consider it, of course!” Chu Liuchen smiled, even with his eyes closed, his brows and eyes curved in that beautiful way. At fourteen or fifteen, he was so handsome as to seem unreal. Xiao Xuanzi secretly breathed a sigh of relief—his master was truly the most beautiful.

Moreover, his master smiled like this only when he was fully confident.

“Should we ask the abbess of Serenity Nunnery to examine your illness?” Seeing his good mood, Xiao Xuanzi quickly suggested.

“Alright,” Chu Liuchen didn’t refuse this time.

“I’ll arrange it right away!” Xiao Xuanzi said excitedly.

“No need—you can have Qin Huaiyong ask,” Chu Liuchen said carelessly.

“Very well!” As long as Chu Liuchen was willing to seek treatment, Xiao Xuanzi didn’t mind the method. He nodded repeatedly.

His master’s ailment was congenital—what people called ‘fetal poison.’ Everyone believed he wouldn’t live long; even the imperial physicians were helpless, saying only to do what could be done and leave the rest to fate. A cure was impossible, yet Xiao Xuanzi didn’t believe it entirely.

His master’s body wasn’t hopeless.

Xiao Xuanzi had a deep trust in Chu Liuchen—he believed as long as his master was willing, nothing was insurmountable.

With Chu Liuchen’s clear answer, Xiao Xuanzi relaxed at last. Since leaving the capital, he’d been anxious every day, fearing his master might give up in despair.

When Qin Wanru returned, she saw Chu Liuchen reclining in a wide chair, his head resting against a pale orchid-patterned cushion, eyes closed as if sleeping. A broad, dark cloak covered him, embroidered with elegant bamboo.

Even though she’d seen him several times, Qin Wanru couldn’t help but admit that Chu Liuchen always gave the impression of surpassing beauty. Every gesture seemed drawn from a painting, noble and ethereal. Even lying there silent and still, he made one feel the world was serene.

Seeing her return, Xiao Xuanzi wasn’t surprised. He beckoned her over with a gentle wave.

Qin Wanru composed herself and approached.

“Second Miss Qin, could you help massage our master’s forehead? He coughed badly just now and hasn’t recovered yet. I’ll go inside to prepare his medicine,” Xiao Xuanzi whispered, careful not to disturb Chu Liuchen.

“No one else available?” Qin Wanru glanced around.

“There are guards, but their hands are too rough—they’d hurt him,” Xiao Xuanzi explained in a low voice.

So your master is like glass—too much force and he’ll break? Qin Wanru paused, then nodded helplessly.

Xiao Xuanzi was delighted, bowing respectfully and giving her space.

He’d been squatting, but now pulled over the small stool Qin Wanru had used earlier. “Second Miss, please sit while you massage—more comfortable. I’ll be right back. Our master should be asleep now.”

“When will he wake?” Qin Wanru suddenly had a bad feeling.

“That’s hard to say—he could wake soon, or later… depends on whether he’s tired,” Xiao Xuanzi said discreetly, his face troubled.

So, no way to know.

Qin Wanru bit her lip in frustration. She suspected Chu Liuchen had planned this, knowing she’d return and timing it perfectly.

But she needed his help!

Had she known she’d soon be back, she wouldn’t have left so hastily…