Chapter 62: A Thousand Miles Away Zhao Yan was silent for a long time...
Zhao Yan was silent for a long time before he replied to Yong Shaolan calmly, "Didn't Brother Lan say that it's not appropriate to touch him now?"
Yong Shaolan: "It's not advisable, but there are many ways. Poisoning is one option? As long as you want, there are many ways to make him suffer a fate worse than death."
"..." Zhao Yan immediately wanted to deal with Zhao Cheng, but he had never considered abusing him. "Forget it, it's better to kill than to torture. Let's lock him up for now. Life in the inner court is not easy either. He's a pampered prince who grew up in luxury. Locking him up would be more satisfying than killing him."
"But." Zhao Yan: "I would like to meet him."
"Go." Yong Shaolan pecked Zhao Yan on the cheek. "Take a day off tomorrow and go to the inner court. I'll ask Xuanji to follow you."
"Okay..." For some reason, Zhao Yan felt that Yong Shaolan didn't seem so "strict" with him now. "Then I'll go tomorrow afternoon, and in the morning—"
Zhao Yan paused mid-sentence and leaned close to Yong Shaolan's ear, saying, "I want to indulge myself! Have a good sleep! I'm dying of exhaustion. I have to get up at four o'clock every day! Tomorrow I'm going to sleep until noon!"
Yong Shaolan: “…Yeah.”
He answered Zhao Yan in an exaggerated tone: "It is indeed very indulgent."
Zhao Yan: “…”
"cut."
The next morning, before daybreak, Zhao Yan, who had been clamoring to sleep until midnight, woke up at the appointed time according to his biological clock.
When he opened his eyes, Yong Shaolan was changing clothes by his bed, and Wen Quan was talking outside the door. However, as soon as he woke up, Wen Quan left obediently, and Zhao Yan did not hear clearly what they were saying.
Zhao Yan lifted the quilt and rubbed his sleepy eyelids: "So early? Isn't there going to court today? What are you going to do, Brother Lan?"
The standard attire of a first-rank minister was a scarlet robe, a crimson color that complemented his complexion beautifully. Yong Shaolan, wearing a jade belt, stood before his bed, his dark hair cascading over his broad shoulders. As he spoke, his golden eyes gazed at him coldly, a beauty that exuded a seductive and restrained beauty.
"I still have some military matters to attend to in Liaodong." Yong Shaolan disliked being served. In the Purple Palace, apart from having Xiao Zhouzi prepare his daily clothes in advance, he did all the other dressing and makeup himself. He walked to the dressing table, took out a comb, and walked over to Zhao Yan. "Your Majesty, would you please help me change my clothes?"
Zhao Yan's eyes never left Yong Shaolan, and he came out of the bed with a smile, "Okay, okay, but I don't really know how to do it. Can you teach me?"
The young man was wearing a snow-white satin nightgown. His slender yet powerful, full of vitality, naked body caught Yong Shaolan's eye. Under his open collar, traces of the previous night's wounds were faintly visible.
Yong Shaolan replied calmly and sat in front of the dressing table. Zhao Yan stood behind him and started combing his hair from bottom to top: "Brother Lan, you have so much hair."
"I don't lose my hair even though I work overtime every day. That's amazing."
At this moment, the comb in Zhao Yan's hand accidentally fell to the ground, and he subconsciously bent down to pick it up.
Yong Shaolan lowered his eyes, and Zhao Yan seemed to have noticed something, so he bent down and looked up at him.
It was like a delicate pet looking up at its doting owner. As long as the owner beckoned his finger, the little pet would unhesitatingly extend its soft tongue to lick the food residue on the owner's finger. Yong Shaolan knew Zhao Yan wouldn't think too much, but if he said it, Zhao Yan would cooperate.
In his eyes, status is not important.
The dressing box in the Purple Palace was empty, save for some hair oil and powder. Men's powder was different from women's, not as fine. Zhao Yan and the other things were prepared by Xiao Zhouzi before the coronation ceremony. Yong Shaolan opened a box of lip balm that had barely been touched and smeared some on his fingertips. "Zhao Yan."
Zhao Yan was suddenly shocked by the meaning of this. He glanced at Yong Shaolan in the bronze mirror, but couldn't see him clearly. He tilted his head to look at him: "What's wrong?"
Yong Shaolan raised his hand and pressed the lipstick on Zhao Yan's lip beads, then slowly smeared it towards the corners of his lips, making his plump lips sloppy. It was hard to imagine that this was an emperor, so simple, so beautiful, and so obedient.
Yong Shaolan pinched the boy's neck and kissed him on the forehead: "Is your butt feeling better?"
When Yong Shaolan pressed his lips against Zhao Yan's, he began to moan in ecstasy. Zhao Yan could probably sense the sudden desire, "Why are you so horny? You pervert, you pervert!"
Yong Shaolan slurred his words, his eyes fixed on Zhao Yan's scribbled lips: "The posture you were in just now was a bit like kneeling, I felt great."
"Will you kneel down and give me a blowjob, Your Majesty?"
Zhao Yan: “???”
Zhao Yan got goosebumps and covered Yong Shaolan's mouth in a mess: "Oh my God, do you want to hear what you have to say?"
Yong Shaolan lowered his eyes in disappointment: "Alright."
"..." Yong Shaolan said this out of the blue, making Zhao Yan a little distracted. They were both men, and they were indeed very energetic in the morning: "Then you can do it for me tonight, and kneel down, okay?"
"..." Yong Shaolan grabbed Zhao Yan's wrist and kneaded it gently, but he didn't feel satisfied. He spread his hand open, pressed it in front of his nose and took a deep breath: "It's okay to hang it for you."
Then he opened his legs slightly and said, "Your Majesty, thank you for your hard work."
Zhao Yan couldn't bear to watch it. He leaned over Yong Shaolan's waist and abdomen, cursing: "Pervert, pervert, pervert!"
…
In the afternoon, when Zhao Yan brought Xiao Zhouzi and Xuanji to the inner court, it was snowing. The sky was gray and gloomy, as if it was about to fall. The inner court was where the criminals in the palace were imprisoned. Because Zhao Cheng had a special status, it was not appropriate to be imprisoned in the sky prison, so he was kept here.
This place was remote, and it took almost an hour to walk from the Purple Palace. Dead leaves from late autumn still piled up on both sides of the path, obscured by the freshly fallen snow, as if to whitewash the situation. A gust of wind blew the dead leaves, staining the pure white snow with a foul stain.
This place can't be summed up in one word: gloomy.
Zhao Yan frowned and got off the sedan chair. Xiao Zhouzi held an umbrella for him and said, "Your Majesty, be careful, the ground is slippery."
His feet made a crunching sound as he stepped on the snow. Zhao Yan walked towards the inner court, "Why isn't anyone cleaning up here? It would be bad if someone in the palace slipped."
Xiao Zhouzi: "The inner court holds consorts who were convicted of crimes. Usually, there are only one or two young eunuchs who come to deliver meals. Because... because the deposed emperor sent a group of people out of the palace, there are not enough people in the palace, so this place has become deserted."
Zhao Yan knew about this matter. It was because Zhao Cheng did some "good things" that he softened his heart a little and wanted to come and see him. In Zhao Yan's mind, emperors were divided into three categories. The first type was good emperors who worked diligently for the people, such as the seven generations of Qin monarchs from Qin Shihuang onwards, such as Emperor Wen and Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty, and Song Taizu Zhao Kuangyin, etc. The second type was unqualified monarchs. There were many examples of this, the most typical being the Ming Dynasty emperors who did not go to work. The third type was the purely evil emperors who used their country and the people as stepping stones for their own enjoyment, such as King You of Zhou.
In his eyes, Zhao Cheng was merely an unlucky emperor. He had done much for the benefit of the people, though his reliance on powerful figures prevented him from achieving his goals. But at least his heart was good. This was a matter of public service. If Zhao Cheng hadn't done anything to harm his father, he could have given him the honor of remaining in the palace as the retired emperor. He had killed his father and left his body, demonstrating his evil nature. So he wasn't prepared to let Zhao Cheng have his way.
Once inside the inner court, the environment became even worse. It was a derelict palace complex, easily enough to house a hundred or so people, so it was quite spacious. However, the pungent smell of urine filled the air as soon as we entered. The dilapidated walls were covered in various black stains (presumably from feces), leaving only a relatively clean path through the center, carved by trampled paths.
Xiao Zhouzi explained, "The deposed emperor is under the watchful eye of the imperial guards. They have voluntarily organized themselves to clean these paths for their convenience."
Zhao Yan pinched his nose and said, "I've been walking for so long, but I haven't seen any criminal concubines. How many people are imprisoned here?"
Little Zhouzi glanced through the booklet sent from the inner court last night and said, "Your Majesty, there are about a hundred of them. Perhaps the nearby Imperial Stables sent people over to deal with them in advance, fearing that they would come out and cause trouble for Your Majesty."
Zhao Yan: “…Okay.” He acted as if a big boss was inspecting.
Passing by many abandoned gardens along the way, all overgrown with dead weeds, Zhao Yan thought of the plot of land he had cultivated in Prince Yong's mansion and said, "What a waste of land! One day, find some people to stop these guilty concubines and ask them to plant the land and clean up. If they do a good job, I will pardon them."
As soon as Zhao Yan finished speaking, except for Xiao Zhouzi, the eunuchs and guards who followed him all knelt on the ground: "Your Majesty is kind and benevolent, which is a blessing for our Great Yan!"
Zhao Yan: “…”
Walking into a dilapidated palace deep in the inner court, nearly a hundred inner court guards surrounded the place. When Zhao Yan approached, the leading guard came over and announced, "Your Majesty, the deposed emperor is inside. Do you want him to be brought out?"
Zhao Yan raised his hand and said, "I'll go in and check on him myself. You guys stay outside the door."
"Yes." The guards and eunuchs obediently withdrew, but just as Zhao Yan climbed a step, Xuan Ji, who had been following him silently, followed him up. Zhao Yan glanced back at him. Xuan Ji, like the camera Yong Shaolan had pressed on him, bowed and looked at him, saying, "Your Majesty, I'd better follow you."
"It's safer."
Zhao Yan: “…”
Hearing this, Zhao Yan pulled Xuan Ji closer and whispered something in his ear that only they could hear: "Then just pretend you didn't hear anything. Don't tell Brother Lan about what Zhao Cheng and I said later."
Xuan Ji nodded, and Zhao Yan agreed to let Xuan Ji follow him into the house.
In broad daylight, only one candle was lit in the damp and cold palace. Walking around the outer hall, through the faded bead curtain, one could see Zhao Cheng wearing a torn dragon robe, with finger-thick shackles around his neck, locked in the small space under the bed.
The last time Zhao Yan saw Zhao Cheng was the night before the coup. He and Zhao Cheng had emerged from their father's chambers together, and he had walked Zhao Cheng to Wenhua Palace. In just over six months, Zhao Cheng seemed to have aged a decade. His long hair fell to his shoulders, his cheeks sunken, and his auspicious phoenix eyes had shrunk to droopy. Those eyes, always filled with shrewd calculation, now seemed empty. It was like an eagle without its sharp beak, a tiger without its teeth, clinging to the remaining energy in its body.
Zhao Yan cleared his throat, "Zhao Cheng, I came to see you——"
Before Zhao Yan could finish his words, Zhao Cheng inside seemed to know he was coming. Although he was clearly at the end of his strength and had lost his home, his voice was still full of pride: "Come in, I have something to tell you."
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