Love Lock

Chapter 271 Carrier Pigeons in the Snowstorm
As dusk settled, the wind and snow intensified.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, and snowflakes, like goose feathers, swirled down from the sky.

The lanterns inside and outside the palace walls swayed precariously in the wind and snow, casting a gloomy glow on the vermilion palace gates.

Chief eunuch Li Zhongxin, wrapped in a sable fur coat, led the Imperial Guards back to the palace, trudging through the snow that was only an inch deep.

The sound of the swords at the waists of the Imperial Guards clashing against their armor was particularly crisp on the quiet palace road.

As the group passed the Nine Dragons Screen Wall, Li Zhongxin suddenly stopped, brushed the snow off his shoulders, and whispered to the guards behind him, "His Majesty must be reviewing memorials at this moment. You shall wait here."

Having said that, he straightened his clothes, which had been ruffled by the wind, and walked alone up the white marble steps toward the Imperial Study, leaving a trail of marks of varying depths on the snow with the soles of his boots.

Li Zhongxin knelt on the ground with his back bent, his forehead almost touching the gold-brick floor of the imperial study, cold sweat sliding down his temples.

"Your Majesty, when this servant led his men to Jinxiufang..." Li Zhongxin's voice trembled slightly, "we didn't see any trace of the secret guards, only... only two tables of leftover food that the secret guards had eaten..."

leftovers?

"Snapped!"

The vermilion brush in Emperor Jing's hand was broken, and the ink splattered on the sleeve of his dragon robe, resembling a pool of filthy blood.

"What did you say?" His voice was terrifyingly low, every word filled with disbelief. "My personal guards, guards who would die for me, were drinking and eating meat in the very place where they were to be executed?"

The air in the imperial study seemed to freeze.

Li Zhongxin dared not look up, only hearing the rapid pounding of his own heart. He also found the whole thing utterly ridiculous.

"Your Majesty, the manager of Jinxiufang said... the secret guards arrived in the afternoon, but he was asked to book two tables at Tengyunlou, and they didn't leave until dinner time."

"Absurd! The guards haven't returned at all. Ah—" Emperor Jing was furious. He slammed his fist on the table, the sandalwood table groaning under its weight.

He overturned the desk again, then strode toward Li Zhongxin. The hem of his bright yellow dragon robe was hanging on the corner of the desk. He angrily yanked it, tearing a rip in the hem.

"Raise your head and look me in the eyes!"

Li Zhongxin looked up cautiously, meeting Emperor Jing's bloodshot eyes filled with resentment.

The raging fury in Emperor Jing's eyes made his knees buckle, and he almost collapsed to the ground. "This old servant...this old servant is telling the truth. The Imperial Guards from the Xuanwu Camp who went with me all saw it..."

"Bring them all in!" Emperor Jing roared, so angry he didn't know what to do.

Li Zhongxin went out to announce the summons. The Imperial Guards waiting outside had just entered and knelt down but hadn't even had a chance to salute when Emperor Jing's voice rang out.

"You!" Emperor Jing turned to the kneeling Imperial Guards, his fingers trembling slightly. "Tell me one by one, what did you see at Jinxiufang?"

The head of the Imperial Guards clasped his hands and said, "Your Majesty, we saw two banquet tables set up in the backyard. The wine was still warm, and the manager and a waiter were cleaning up. The manager said that the secret guards had been eating since the afternoon and had just left. We just missed them when we arrived."

"Damn it!" Emperor Jing was furious.

With a crash, he kicked over the bronze crane incense burner beside him, sending incense ash flying like snow.

"Damn it, damn it! Where are they now? I'm going to kill them!" He grabbed a blue-and-white porcelain teacup from the table and smashed it to the ground.

Amidst the scattering of porcelain shards, his voice was almost a roar: "My personal guards, how dare they disobey my orders?"

Emperor Jing was furious and began smashing things in the imperial study.
Li Zhongxin crawled back half a step, a shard of porcelain grazing his cheek and leaving a bloody mark.

But he dared not wipe it, and instead lowered his head even further. Of the three emperors he served, this was the only one who lost his composure due to a fit of rage.

Emperor Jing's chest heaved violently, and the faces of those secret guards appeared before his eyes.

They were all selected from death row inmates, trained through a combination of torture and kindness, and were made to serve the emperor alone with absolute loyalty.

Now, these loyal dogs dare to disobey orders and drink and make merry in the key location where the traitor was being searched? Could it be that even his own bodyguards are in cahoots with the traitor?

How terrifying is that?
The King of Cangzhou is plotting a rebellion, and his cousin Wei Chengchao is secretly aiding the enemy and colluding with the Turks. Now even his own secret guards have betrayed him.

"Could it be... that I am not the chosen one? That I am not destined to be an emperor?" Emperor Jing murmured.

He began to doubt whether he was destined to be an emperor, and why everyone had been opposing him since the day he ascended the throne.
"Your Majesty, please calm down..." Li Zhongxin mustered his courage and advised, "Perhaps the secret guards have other hidden motives."

"A hidden story?" Emperor Jing suddenly laughed, a laugh that sent chills down the spines of everyone present. "The Prince of Cangzhou's rebellion is a hidden story? Wei Chengchao's possession of divine weapons is a hidden story? Now even my shadow has betrayed me!"

He kicked Li Zhongxin in the shoulder, sending Li Zhongxin sprawling backward.

Emperor Jing staggered back two steps and only managed to steady himself by grabbing onto the dragon pillar.

He gazed at the dragon-patterned ceiling above the imperial study, where the golden dragon seemed to be glaring at him with bared fangs and claws. In a daze, he thought he saw tears streaming from the dragon's eyes.

"Am I... really unworthy to be the emperor?" This thought slithered into Emperor Jing's mind like a venomous snake, and he felt a wave of dizziness.

The scene from the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven flashed before his eyes—

During the most crucial part of the sacrificial ceremony to Heaven, a eunuch came to report ominous news.

And then, it was all bad luck!

After smashing everything he could find around him, Emperor Jing paced back and forth in the room in frustration.

He considered ordering the Imperial Guards to arrest Prime Minister Wei and his son several times, but he held back.

After all, Prime Minister Wei was his uncle, and Wei Chengchao was his cousin. His uncle, Prime Minister Wei, played an indispensable role in his successful ascension to the throne.

Therefore, without concrete evidence, he did not want to escalate the conflict with Prime Minister Wei too much. Otherwise, if word got out, people would say he was an ungrateful and foolish ruler.

Suddenly, he seemed to have thought of something.

Emperor Jing's fingertips trembled slightly as his gaze searched through the mess. Finally, his eyes landed on the wolf-hair brush, stained with ink, lying on the ground.

"Li Zhongxin!" Emperor Jing suddenly roared, startling the old eunuch. "Your servant is here!"

"Prepare paper and grind ink for me!"

Emperor Jing quickly lay down on the ground, completely unaware that his dragon robe was stained with ink.

He twisted his wrist rapidly, and the sharp tip of the brush drew sharp lines on the rice paper.

He tried hard to recall what the sewing tools he had seen in front of Jinxiufang looked like that day, and then quickly drew them on rice paper based on his memory.

When the last stroke was made, an M16 assault rifle appeared on the paper, with even the details of the trigger and magazine rendered in perfect detail.

"Look carefully, all of you!" Emperor Jing threw the portrait in front of the Imperial Guards. "Did you see this when you searched Jinxiufang?"

Li Zhongxin hunched over and leaned closer to examine it, his cloudy old eyes filled with confusion. "Your Majesty, what is this? This old servant has never seen it before."

The Imperial Guards exchanged bewildered glances. One of them clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Your Majesty, we have never seen him before."

"Your Majesty, we have not seen this item in the Brocade Pavilion either," the Imperial Guards shook their heads.

Emperor Jing grabbed a member of the Imperial Guard by the collar, but then helplessly let go as the guard looked on in terror.

Emperor Jing, who had just been showing signs of frustration, suddenly found himself with a sliver of clarity inexplicably.

Didn't Wei Chengchao say that shiny black object was a sewing tool?
Jinxiufang was originally a place that sold fabrics and clothes. These tools that were used at any time should have been kept in Jinxiufang. So why did Li Zhongxin and the Imperial Guards not find them when they searched?
What's going on here?

The secret guards didn't return to the palace to report. Did they discover something fishy and go to continue investigating the clues?

Now those secret guards seem unimportant; the sewing tools that Jinxiufang possesses are the key!
Suddenly, he thought of the only person who had ever seen Aimu Sixteen—Lu Heming, Su Ce's deputy general.

Thinking of this, a bead of cold sweat dripped down Emperor Jing's back. He suddenly looked up at a member of the Imperial Guard and said, "Go and summon Lu Heming to the palace immediately! Be quick!"

The Imperial Guards, awaiting the order, departed through the snow. Emperor Jing stared at the painting on the Xuan paper, his eyes gradually darkening. The rumor that Wei Chengchao had secretly aided the enemy was merely hearsay, while Prime Minister Wei had rendered meritorious service in supporting the emperor, and he was also related to the Wei family father and son.

Emperor Jing did not want to make unfounded accusations and mistakenly kill innocent people.

Or rather, subconsciously, he was unwilling to believe that his relatives would do him any harm.

He wanted to summon Deputy General Lu Heming to the palace for a confrontation.

If Lu Heming recognizes the drawing on the Xuan paper as the "Em Sixteen" he had seen before, then Wei Chengchao must have betrayed him, and the crime would be confirmed.

At that point, Wei Chengchao would have no way to deny it, and he would no longer feel any psychological pressure to kill Prime Minister Wei and his son—even if Prime Minister Wei had rendered meritorious service in supporting the emperor.

His throne was hard-won.

snort!
Even the relatives who helped him rise to power shouldn't even think about taking that position away from him...

The night, as thick as ink, pressed heavily upon this sleeping city.

In the sky, fine snowflakes drifted down gently, like countless torn goose feathers, carried by the cold wind, dancing in the dark night.

The cold air seemed to seep into your bones; even the withered grass remaining in the cracks of the roadside stones was covered with a thin layer of frost, shivering in the wind.

On the main street, the lanterns of all the shops had long been extinguished, and the heavy doors kept out any warmth. Occasionally, the barking of dogs could be heard from the deep alleys, but it was quickly swallowed up by the wind and snow.

Several ragged beggars huddled under the eaves, clinging to the wall like withered leaves, trying to ward off the biting cold with their thin linen.

Suddenly, the sound of rapid hoofbeats broke the silence of the night.

The torches held by the Imperial Guards swayed in the wind and snow, their orange flames tearing a slit in the darkness.

The clatter of hooves startled the beggars who were dozing in the corner, and they hurriedly shrank into the shadows.

The leading general gripped the reins tightly, his breath appearing and disappearing in the firelight.

They were the Imperial Guards who had been ordered to summon Lu Heming to the palace urgently, and they were now braving the wind and snow on their way to Lu Heming's home.

As the caravan passed through Tongzi Alley, the signboard of an inn creaked in the wind.

They rode past the entrance of an inn, and no one noticed that a gray-feathered carrier pigeon was quietly taking off from the backyard, its wings skimming over the snow-covered eaves, kicking up a few fine snowflakes.

Like an arrow released from a bow, the carrier pigeon broke through the swirling snow and sped towards the dark northern night sky, quickly disappearing into the depths of the snow-covered night.

At the same time, the carved wooden window on the second floor of a guesthouse creaked open, and a cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed into the warm room.

As dawn broke, Dongfang Jiming stood with his hands behind his back by the window, the hem of his thick, dark cloak swaying slightly in the cold wind blowing in through the window.

He gazed in the direction where the carrier pigeon had disappeared, then looked up and stroked his chin. His deep eyes reflected the drifting snowflakes, yet seemed to hold even deeper thoughts.

That direction leads to Cangzhou in Dajing.

Or rather, it was the northern pass of the Great Jing.

He stared in that direction, motionless, the wind chimes under the eaves tinkling in the wind and snow, making his figure appear even more lonely...

The next day, Cangzhou.

After two or three days of continuous snow and wind, the long-awaited warm sunshine finally shone on every corner of Cangzhou.

The icicles on the eaves glistened in the sunlight, and the occasional rustling sound of snow sliding off the snow-covered branches could be heard.

By mid-morning, the front courtyard of the Cangzhou Prince's Mansion was already bustling with activity.

The maids, wearing thick cloaks and carrying brooms, were sweeping the snow in the courtyard in twos and threes. The servants, on the other hand, were carrying wooden shovels to transport the piled-up snow blocks to the garden.

"Little Fish, look how thick the snow is!" A little maid with her hair in two buns scooped up a handful of snow, her eyes sparkling.

The maid, nicknamed Little Fish, replied with a smile, "That's right, the snow is so thick, it crunches when you step on it." As she spoke, she deliberately stomped her feet on the snow a few times.

Not far away, several young servants had already started a snowball fight.

"Take this!" A servant wearing a blue cotton-padded jacket suddenly threw a snowball at his companion.

"Ouch!" The servant who was hit was not angry. Instead, he laughed and squatted down, quickly making an even bigger snowball to retaliate.

Laughter echoed through the courtyard. The butler stood on the veranda, watching the group of young people play, a kind smile on his face.

He stroked his gray beard and said to the old woman beside him, "Let them play for a while. The wind and snow have been so heavy these past few days, everyone's been cooped up for ages."

The old woman nodded: "Yes, the prince and princess have had a hard time these past few days."

When the prince and princess were mentioned, everyone's eyes turned to the backyard.

It was quiet there, a stark contrast to the bustling activity in the front yard.

Inside the bedroom in the backyard, the silver charcoal in the brazier burned quietly, radiating warmth.

Zhao Zun held Han Lei, who was still fast asleep, both of them with a peaceful expression on their faces after exhaustion.

Han Lei's long hair was scattered on the pillow, and Zhao Zun's arm was still wrapped around her waist in a protective posture.

Despite the snow and wind these past few days, Zhao Zun and Han Lei have been busy, leaving early and returning late.

They need to be concerned about whether the people of Cangzhou have enough honeycomb briquette stoves to keep warm.

In such cold weather, they also had to inquire whether the salt factory could operate smoothly.

They still need to check on how pig farms and chicken and duck farms can safely get through the winter.

……

In short, there were just too many miscellaneous tasks, and Zhao Zun and Han Lei were busy every day.

The old lady felt sorry for them, so she specially ordered that no one should disturb Zhao Zun and Han Lei while they were resting, or they would be punished according to family rules.

Zhao Zun woke up first, and sunlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on his sharply defined profile.

He propped his head up with one hand, his gaze quietly tracing Han Lei's sleeping appearance.

Han Lei's long eyelashes cast a shadow under her eyes, and her breathing was even and long.

A moment later, Han Lei's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if she was about to wake up but did not want to be fully awake.

With her eyes closed, her right hand unconsciously groped under the pillow, her fingertips brushing against the silk but she couldn't find that familiar little medicine bottle.

This action was so practiced, it was as if it had been repeated hundreds or thousands of times.

Han Lei opened her eyes in confusion, only to meet Zhao Zun's ambiguous gaze. His deep eyes held a mixture of understanding and mischief.

"You're looking for this?" Zhao Zun held the small medicine bottle between his slender fingers and waved it lightly in front of her.

The slanting morning light shone on the medicine bottle, making the small print on it even clearer.

"You'd better not take the contraceptive pills!" His voice was magnetic and gentle, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority.

"Mmm!" Han Lei murmured sleepily, reaching out to grab the small medicine bottle.

"Stop eating it!"

Zhao Zun easily dodged the attack.