The bandit suppression in Jiu Lan Mountain had seen no major developments. The Emperor issued five consecutive imperial decrees urging Zhou Jin to expedite the operation.
"Your Highness, should we accelerate our actions?"
"His Majesty appears quite anxious."
Song Xingzhi worried that Duan Wang might offend the Emperor over this matter. Everyone knew Duan Wang's precarious position, caught between adversaries from all sides.
Zhou Jin lowered his gaze, casually examining the scroll in his hand. His ink-black hair cascaded loosely over his shoulders, clearly indicating he had just bathed.
"No, proceed according to the original plan."
When it came to bandit suppression, haste was to be avoided. Drawing from the previous failed attempts in Baiqu County, there must be a mole among the local officials.
Without uncovering this traitor, complete success in suppressing the bandits would be difficult to achieve.
After dismissing Song Xingzhi, Zhou Jin stood alone by the window, gazing at the moon in the distant sky.
Today was his birthday, yet no one remembered.
The Emperor's five consecutive decrees were merely to urge him to suppress the bandits.
Zhou Jin smiled self-deprecatingly. Indeed, from the moment he was born, he had never been wanted. Who would remember his birthday?
His mother, Consort Jing, deeply hated both the Emperor and him, her own son. Once an Empress, she had been reduced to a mere consort.
The Emperor had killed her childhood sweetheart husband and child, violated her body, and forced her to bear this illegitimate child. How could Consort Jing not hate him?
"You illegitimate child, why did my Qin'er not survive while you, this bastard, lived?"
"Seeing your face disgusts me."
"I will kill you, kill you."
Zhou Jin closed his eyes in pain, unwilling to recall the past. Often in his dreams, he would become that barefoot child in thin clothing, standing in heavy snow covered with wounds.
Everyone was scheming against him, including his Duanwang Fei.
Once, Zhou Jin had hoped to find a kindred spirit as his princess consort, wanting to avoid repeating the tragedy of the previous generation.
But the Emperor denied him this opportunity, designating the Xu family's daughter as his principal consort to suppress him.
The Xu family's daughter it would be then. If they couldn't be kindred spirits, mutual respect would suffice.
Little did he expect this already unsatisfactory marriage would turn into a farce.
What did it matter if he could devise strategies on the battlefield? He was still being manipulated.
Zhou Jin closed the window, shutting out the moon.
Enveloped in darkness, he thought if he was destined to have no light, then he would grow accustomed to the dark.
He would ascend to the highest position and hold everyone in the palm of his hand.
"Knock knock, Duan Wang, are you resting?"
It was Zhang San's voice. What could she want with him so late?
The lights in the room were already extinguished. At this moment, Zhou Jin didn't want to see anyone, so he remained silent.
"Duan Wang, are you asleep?"
"Duan Wang?"
Zhou Jin was somewhat exasperated. Even if he had been asleep, Zhang San's persistent questioning would have woken him.
With a "creak," the door was pushed open.
Zhou Jin's dagger gleamed coldly in the darkness.
In the faint candlelight, Xu Bao'er holding a candle and carrying a bowl of Longevity Noodles, peeked her head in.
After recognizing Xu Bao'er, Zhou Jin quickly concealed the dagger in his sleeve.
"Oh, Duan Wang, you're not asleep."
Pretending not to have seen Zhou Jin's dagger, Xu Bao'er cheerfully placed the noodles on the table. Using her candle, she lit the lamp on the table.
Instantly, the room became much brighter.
Zhou Jin glanced at the bowl of Longevity Noodles—slender strands of pasta, golden-yellow egg, and clear broth dotted with specks of oil and scallions.
It looked delicious.
"Today is my birthday, so I made an extra bowl. Would Your Highness try my cooking?"
Zhou Jin didn’t believe it was mere coincidence that Zhang San shared the same birthday. This Zhang San had clearly prepared the Longevity Noodles knowing it was his birthday. What was her true intention?
Not only was she disguised as a man, but she was also delivering noodles late at night—everything about this seemed suspicious.
"Your Highness?"
Xu Bao'er had never seen Zhou Jin like this before: dressed in plain white sleepwear, hair loosely flowing, barefoot on the embroidered satin rug.
In the candlelight, he seemed less intimidating, his features softened.
"I do not eat after noon."
"I am retiring for the night. Leave."
Whatever her motives, Zhou Jin had no intention of eating the noodles and coldly dismissed her.
"Your Highness, I have admired you since childhood. You are a hero who defends our nation. Now that I finally have the chance to be near you, I couldn’t contain my excitement."
"To be honest, today isn’t my birthday. I knew it was yours and wanted to offer you noodles but felt too shy, so I made up a clumsy excuse. Please forgive me."
Xu Bao'er gazed at Zhou Jin earnestly and said, "Your Highness, may you live a thousand years, in health and without sorrow."
Zhou Jin’s expression shifted from scrutiny to surprise. He hadn’t expected this woman, using the pseudonym Zhang San, to be here for him.
Admiration? Once she learned he was an ambitious schemer coveting the throne, that admiration would surely vanish.
Fighting on the battlefield had merely been his only means of survival.
"Leave."
Zhou Jin despised those who deliberately approached him with intentions to use or harm him. He had encountered too many such people in his youth—each act of trust had only plunged him deeper into despair.
"Forgive the intrusion, Your Highness."
Xu Bao'er knew Zhou Jin was deeply suspicious and never assumed a single bowl of Longevity Noodles could win his heart.
With Zhou Jin, she had to proceed gradually—haste would lead nowhere.
The door closed softly. Zhou Jin walked to the table and looked down at the bowl of Longevity Noodles.
In health and without sorrow?
His birthday was also the death anniversary of Qin Lu, his half-brother.
The Emperor had deliberately chosen that day to execute Qin Lu, believing that Consort Jing’s willingness to bear his child meant she held affection for him.
He never knew she had endured humiliation solely to protect Qin Lu’s life.
After Qin Lu’s death, Consort Jing went completely mad—setting a fire in a desperate attempt to burn down the entire palace.
Zhou Jin turned toward the bed, and with a sweep of his sleeve, extinguished the candle on the table.
The next morning, Zhou Jin sat on the edge of his bed in a simple black satin robe, eyes closed in meditation, wearing matching black boots.
Several maids tidied the room under Song Xingzhi’s supervision.
"Your Highness, there’s a Peace Buckle beside this bowl of noodles."
"Discard it with the noodles."
Song Xingzhi picked up the Peace Buckle. On the delicate black braided cord hung a golden bead engraved with the character "Jin"—clearly made specifically for the prince.
Noticing Zhou Jin’s eyes were still closed, Song Xingzhi secretly pocketed the buckle.
"Clean all of this up. Don’t let it offend His Highness’s sight."
He nervously directed the maids, afraid the prince might notice anything amiss.
Zhou Jin was going to inspect the foot of Jiu Lan Mountain, and Xu Bao'er quickly led her little donkey out.
"I'm coming too."
Song Xingzhi glanced at Xu Bao'er's little donkey and teased.
"Zhang Gongzi, we're going to inspect beneath the bandit den, not to stroll through the market. If the bandits charge down, you won't even be able to escape."
"But I don't know how to ride a horse, so what should I do?"
Xu Bao'er knew how to ride a horse, but now she had to pretend she didn't.
"Fine, I'll take you with me. You can share a horse with me." Song Xingzhi sighed, riding his horse over to Xu Bao'er and extending his hand.