“Yes.”
After admitting this, Qiao Bing immediately added, “Indeed, back when you and Consort Mei went missing, the Emperor dispatched three teams to conduct an extensive search throughout Da Yong. One consisted of the Imperial Guards, another of personnel from the Zhenfu Si.”
Lu Zhao: “Just now, Xie Xian reminded me that there are others searching for me and my mother as well. He must have caught wind of something—these two groups may have also sought out another ‘me.’ When you return to Zhongdu, it would be best to be mentally prepared.”
Qiao Bing’s brow furrowed tightly: “Impossible! With Consort Mei here, there can only be one Seventh Prince.”
Lu Zhao promptly doused him with cold water: “But my mother is dead. Are you certain they wouldn’t, for the sake of merit and fame, find someone who resembles me as a child and pass them off as me?”
Qiao Bing: “But the Imperial Guards are the Emperor’s men, and Thousand Household Liang of the Zhenfu Si was once under Old General Shen’s command…”
Lu Zhao said calmly, “People’s hearts are fickle. It has been nearly ten years since my grandfather passed away. Who they are loyal to now is hard to say.”
Qiao Bing’s expression shifted several times before he immediately dropped to one knee to pledge his loyalty: “This humble official does not know whom they are loyal to now, but the Qiao family will always remain loyal to the Zhenguo Jiangjun Fu and to the Seventh Prince.”
As he spoke, he tugged at Qiao Chi, who was standing rigidly beside him.
Qiao Chi, pulled off balance, was about to pledge his loyalty as well when Lu Zhao caught his wrist: “Enough. I only want you to be mentally prepared so that when we reach Zhongdu, we won’t be caught off guard.”
Qiao Bing rose: “Seventh Prince, rest assured. Once we leave Liangzhou, this humble official will immediately send a letter back to Zhongdu.”
Lu Zhao waved his hand, signaling for them to leave.
After Qiao Bing had exited, she continued practicing her calligraphy, not stopping even as night fell.
Qiao Chi, watching her frail figure, advised, “Seventh Prince, you need not keep watch every day. Otherwise, you’ll fall ill before Xie Zhoumu even arrives.”
He expected to need more persuasion, but to his surprise, Lu Zhao set down her brush and ink, stood up, and said, “Then you take the first watch, and I’ll take the second.” With that, she walked out.
Qiao Chi was momentarily stunned before quickly having guards escort her to a side room to rest.
Lu Zhao was indeed exhausted. She removed her outer robe, lay down, and fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
She hadn’t slept long before she heard the rumble of carriage wheels and the clamor of a crowd. Irritated, she opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by jostling spectators, who were continuously waving and pressing toward her.
Imperial Guards in yellow mandarin jackets held weapons to prevent them from getting closer.
Dragon flags and processions lined the road.
Lu Zhao was only dazed for a moment before a pair of large hands lifted her up. A woman’s gentle voice sounded: “What is Little Seven looking at?” The woman chuckled: “Your Majesty, look, Little Seven is already frowning at such a young age.”
The Emperor cupped her face and examined her closely, smiling as well: “Indeed, what is Little Seven thinking? Is the crowd too noisy?”
Once again, her eyes met the bright yellow dragon robe.
It was the Emperor from her previous dream, and Consort Mei in her youth.
Lu Zhao immediately realized she had entered Shen Qi’s childhood dream again.
Why did she keep dreaming of Shen Qi’s childhood? And why did she share his body in the dream?
Lu Zhao discreetly surveyed her surroundings: Imperial Guards clearing the way, ministers following, the procession bustling with attendants, luxurious carriages one after another… Was this the Emperor traveling with his consorts? Shouldn’t the Dragon Carriage be occupied by the Emperor and the Empress? With Consort Mei and Shen Qi here, weren’t they inviting jealousy and resentment?
No sooner had this thought crossed her mind than a group of black-clad figures suddenly rushed out from the crowd, brandishing swords as they charged straight toward the Dragon Carriage.
A scream pierced the air: “Assassins! Someone, come quickly! Protect His Majesty! Protect His Majesty!”
With a thunderous crash, the Dragon Carriage was shattered, and the emperor was thrown from the vehicle. The Imperial Guards swarmed forward, forming layers of protection around him. Consort Mei, clutching her tightly, lay sprawled on the remaining two wooden planks of the Dragon Carriage as they were dragged a considerable distance.
The common people scattered in panic, while the air filled with the screams of palace consorts and maids.
The scene descended into chaos. The Dragon Carriage had crashed into a ditch, and Consort Mei, still holding her, tumbled all the way down, rolling into the turbulent waters of the Huai River by the bank.
Floodwaters choked her lungs, and a fierce sense of suffocation overwhelmed her, forcing her to gasp for air…
She abruptly sat up, her eyes meeting the plain cloth canopy above, her body resting on the hard, uncomfortable wooden plank bed.
Lu Zhao took a deep breath and muttered under her breath, “System, what’s going on? Why am I dreaming about Shen Qi’s childhood again?”
The system sounded surprised. [Again? I told you it might be Consort Mei sending you dreams. It should stop after she’s buried.]
Lu Zhao was displeased. “Don’t play dumb!” She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
The system adopted an utterly wronged tone. [I’m innocent, Host! The system isn’t all-knowing—how could I possibly know why you’re dreaming!]
Lu Zhao: “Should I go tell the Qiao father and son right now that I’m not the Seventh Prince?”
[The system really doesn’t know.] It replied cautiously. [Besides, dreaming about Shen Qi’s childhood isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It might come in handy when we return to Zhongdu.]
Lu Zhao let out a dry laugh. “Fair point.”
The system preened with pride.
Lu Zhao: “Then, is there some kind of skill that could give me all of Shen Qi’s memories?”
System: “No.”
Lu Zhao’s expression instantly darkened. “Useless! What good are you then!”
The system fell silent immediately.
Lu Zhao pondered carefully: It did seem like these dreams only started after Consort Mei’s death. She decided to wait and see for a couple more days.
For the next few nights, she remained remarkably calm.
The system couldn’t tell whether she had continued dreaming or not and tentatively asked, [Host, have you dreamed of anything else strange?]
Surprisingly, Lu Zhao was cooperative this time and replied directly, “No.”
The system let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, but that subtle fluctuation in brainwaves was still caught by Lu Zhao.
Her eyes flickered thoughtfully as she mused with amusement for a moment.
On the sixth day, Xie Xian finally returned to Xuanping City.
The group settled at the county magistrate’s residence, and the commander of the Black Flag Army personally came to invite Lu Zhao over.
Accompanied by Qiao Chi, Lu Zhao boarded the Xie family’s carriage and arrived at the county office. There, in the inner quarters, she saw Xie Jinchi, who lay like a living corpse.
The once arrogant and domineering man had withered drastically over half a month—his cheeks hollowed, eye sockets sunken, and complexion ashen. He had evolved from the image of a dissipated young master to that of a drug addict.
He was so repulsive that one wouldn’t want to look at him a second time.
While the live-stream audience sighed with pity, they also felt a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
[Jianmengtianxia: Indeed, killing him outright would have been better than leaving him half-dead like this.]
[Shuaidebumingxian: Treating human life like grass—he deserves it!]
[Zuipao Tianwang: Hahaha, if he wakes up, he’ll be crying his eyes out.]
Lu Zhao glanced casually at his hands and feet, feeling a twinge of regret: Surprisingly, his tendons had been reconnected, and quite skillfully at that.
She sat by the bedside and pretentiously reached out to take Xie Jinchi’s pulse. After a moment, she withdrew her hand and said, “Young Master Xie’s poison can be cured, but it requires a variety of medicinal ingredients. They need to be made into pills for him to take.”
Xie Xian immediately said, “Just write down whatever medicinal ingredients you need. Bring paper and ink.”
Someone promptly brought writing materials and stood by. Lu Zhao unceremoniously listed a series of medicinal names, mixing a few common herbs among the expensive ones.
Xie Xian frowned at the long list. “Just to make one detoxification pill, you need this many precious ingredients?”
Ginseng, deer antler, lingzhi… Could these highly tonic substances really make an antidote?
Lu Zhao replied solemnly, “I presume Xie Zhoumu has already consulted many physicians. This poison is complex, so the antidote must be equally intricate. Does Xie Zhoumu consider these ingredients more valuable than Xie Gongzi’s life?”
Xie Xian immediately denied it: “Of course not!”
His son’s life was naturally worth more than these lifeless objects.
With a wave of his hand, he ordered, “Quickly gather the herbs according to the prescription! Search our estate’s supplies, the county magistrate’s storerooms, and scour the entire city for anything missing!”
Guards hurried off to carry out the task, though several ingredients proved difficult to find.
Lu Zhao said calmly, “Today is the seventh day since my mother’s passing. I must return to keep vigil. Xie Zhoumu can deliver the ingredients to my residence whenever they’re all gathered.” Having said this, she left the magistrate’s residence with Qiao Chi.
Xie Xian didn’t stop her—she was still in Xuanping City, after all, and couldn’t go far.
By nightfall, all the ingredients had finally been collected and delivered to Lu Zhao.
After spending the entire day in her chamber, Lu Zhao emerged holding an ornate box containing an ordinary-looking brown pill.
She handed the box to the Black Flag Army commander and said gently, “Inform your governor that after taking the antidote, the patient will wake by tomorrow morning at the latest.”
The commander nodded and left with the box.
Lu Zhao returned to the mourning hall and quietly resumed practicing calligraphy.
The Qiao father-son pair and their guards paced anxiously outside, occasionally glancing at her. They wanted to ask for updates but dared not disturb.
As dusk deepened and the moon rose high, no one could sleep.
When dawn broke and the horizon lightened, word finally came from Xie Zhoumu—the patient had awakened.
Everyone waiting tensely in the courtyard collectively sighed in relief.
The Black Flag Army commander opened the main gates and announced loudly, “The governor orders that you may depart.”
Qiao Bing immediately instructed the servants to reload the carriages. Lu Zhao told Qiao Chi, “There’s one more chest in my room. Have it loaded directly onto my carriage.”
Another chest in the room?
Qiao Chi was puzzled—when had another chest appeared?
He went to move it himself. The chest was small and light enough for one person to carry. After placing it in the carriage, he found Lu Zhao in mourning clothes serenely drinking tea inside.
Setting the chest at her feet, he asked, “What’s so important in here?”
Lu Zhao set down her teacup, pulled the medicine chest open, and revealed it filled with all the precious ingredients from the prescription.
Qiao Chi’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you use these herbs?”
Lu Zhao raised an eyebrow. “When did I say I’d use them all?”
He realized she never had.
Qiao Chi hesitated, “But Xie Zhoumu…” That old villain would be furious if he knew.
Lu Zhao stated matter-of-factly, “Xie Zhoumu himself said I’m skilled in medicine and should take good care of my health. Maintaining one’s health requires medicinal ingredients.”
Qiao Chi had nothing to say to that.
At that moment, a commotion arose outside the carriage procession. Qiao Chi lifted the curtain to look and saw a row of Black Flag Army soldiers standing at the rear of the formation.
Clearly intending to follow them out of the city.
Qiao Chi frowned. “What does Xie Zhoumu mean?” He had already let them leave, yet now he was sending the Black Flag Army to follow them.
Was he planning to go back on his word?
Lu Zhao closed the lid of the medicine chest and said gently, “No need for alarm. It was my request to have the Black Flag Army escort us.”
Qiao Chi was puzzled. “Why?”
Lu Zhao explained, “Xie Jinchi has just been cured of the poison. Xie Xian wouldn’t feel at ease letting us leave immediately. Having his men follow allows him peace of mind.”
Qiao Chi thought: But this doesn’t give us peace of mind.
As if reading his thoughts, Lu Zhao continued, “We’ll inevitably face pursuers along the journey, and casualties are unavoidable. Having the Xie family’s Black Flag Guards with us means they can both assist with tasks and fill those casualty gaps. Isn’t that beneficial?”
Qiao Chi: “…” Was it beneficial or not?
He now wondered what exactly the Seventh Prince had said to Xie Zhoumu inside the carriage earlier that made the other party willingly provide both medicinal supplies and troops.
Troops that might turn out to be like meat buns thrown to dogs – once gone, never returning.
Author’s note: