Planning
The next day, Su Jing and Helian Chong both developed symptoms. Helian Chong had no choice but to order his army to temporarily garrison in Xuzhou City. Even so, the plague swept in like a whirlwind, and soon the soldiers of Northern Qi were infected with the plague one after another.
In late autumn, the city of Xuzhou was filled with the bitter smell of burning mugwort. The infected soldiers were all isolated. Helian Chong summoned all the doctors in Xuzhou. All the uninfected soldiers and servants were stationed in various palaces as needed, brewing medicine, burning mugwort, and processing the patients' clothes every day. Gradually, the plague spread wider and wider, from high-ranking officials to ordinary people. Long queues formed in front of the medicine sheds, but the number of deaths was increasing. Every day, corpses were carried out, wrapped in straw mats, and thrown into the crematorium.
Su Jing's condition fluctuated repeatedly; the lump on his neck had turned purple, and the high fever kept him unconscious most of the time. The doctor sent by Helian Chong examined his pulse daily, but the medicine he was given seemed to sink without a trace, having no effect whatsoever.
It wasn't until late at night a month later that Su Jing was able to regain his senses for a rare moment.
Chu Yiran stayed by his side every day. When he saw him open his eyes, he couldn't help but ask with joy, "Is Your Highness feeling any better?"
"Hmm..." Su Jing responded softly, but still looked listless.
"Does Your Highness know where Helian Chong's lump is?" Chu Yiran chuckled, his voice tinged with mischief, "His groin—he can't even walk right now, he's in so much pain he's cursing."
Su Jing's pale lips curled up slightly, and the two of them laughed together, like children who had successfully pulled off a prank. But as they laughed, Su Jing coughed violently again, a metallic taste rising in her throat.
Chu Yiran's smile froze on his face, his voice hoarse: "Your Highness won't die, will you?"
Su Jing shook his head, barely suppressing a cough, and said softly, "I promised you, I would take you home, A-Ran."
He gestured for Chu Yiran to come closer, and told him to kneel down beside the bed. Then, a pair of hands emerged from the curtains, the fingertips pale and thin, yet firmly holding a silver hairpin.
Chu Yiran was taken aback—he recognized the hairpin; Su Jing had always worn it and never taken it off.
Su Jing dipped the hairpin in a basin of wood ash and then gently inserted it into Chu Yiran's hair.
“This was left to me by my mother.” He spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing something. “Aran, do you remember what I told you last time? My mother’s surname is Chen.”
“I remember…” Chu Yiran’s heart skipped a beat, and he vaguely understood something.
“This area produces salt, and merchants inevitably travel around. If we’re lucky…” Su Jing paused, looking intently at him, “we might be able to find out about my uncle whom I’ve never met.”
His voice was weak, but every word was clear: "Tomorrow, go and help purchase medicinal herbs. While you're at it, try to find out—the Shen family of Langya started out selling salt; perhaps some merchants will recognize them..."
Chu Yiran clenched his fist and nodded emphatically.
Su Jing closed his eyes slightly and lay back down, seemingly exhausted.
——
After November, winter came suddenly and was very cold in Xuzhou.
Chu Yiran slipped a few copper coins into the palm of the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper weighed them and stepped aside to make way. He mingled with the group buying medicinal herbs and left the palace. The cold wind blew in his face, stinging his cheeks.
The streets were deserted, and most shops were closed. The few pedestrians who did pass by all wore veils and hurried along. Chu Yiran asked several pharmacies, but the shopkeepers either shook their heads or waved their hands: "Young man, don't bother asking. The city gates are sealed off now; who dares to wander around?"
After half a month without any news from the Langya Shen family, and with Su Jing's condition showing no improvement, Chu Yiran couldn't help but feel discouraged.
That day, after wandering around the shops on the street until evening, Chu Yiran walked into a tavern that was still open. The charcoal brazier inside was burning brightly. He shook the snow off his shoulders and ordered a bowl of hot soup noodles.
"Waiter, I have a question for you. Do you know anything about the Shen family of Langya?"
Before the waiter could answer, a loud "smack" came from the next table—someone had put down their chopsticks.
"Who are you?" a clear female voice rang out. "What are you asking about the Shen family of Langya?"
Chu Yiran turned his head and saw a girl of about sixteen or seventeen. She was wrapped in a worn cotton-padded jacket, and although her face was covered by a veil, her eyes were surprisingly bright, and she was staring at him warily.
“An old friend asked me to find my relatives.” Chu Yiran removed the plain silver hairpin from her hair. “Does the young lady recognize this?”
The girl jumped to her feet, the stool scraping loudly against the floor. She snatched the hairpin, her fingertips trembling. "This...this isn't my aunt's dowry?" Touching the markings on it, her eyes suddenly welled with tears. "The character '沉' here was carved by my grandfather..."
Chu Yiran handed her a handkerchief: "May I ask your name, young lady?"
“My name is Shen Ruoqing,” Shen Ruoqing said, her fingers gripping the silver hairpin tightly, tears welling in her eyes. “How did this hairpin end up in your hands?”
Chu Yiran lowered his voice: "Its master is currently trapped in the palace and is very ill."
"A temporary palace?" Shen Ruoqing's expression changed drastically. "You mean... that one from Nansu..."
"Shh." Chu Yiran glanced around warily. "This isn't the place to talk."
Shen Ruoqing understood, quickly paid for the noodles, and led Chu Yiran through several snow-covered alleys to an inconspicuous inn in the west of the city. When they pushed open the door, the aroma of charcoal fire wafted out, and inside sat a middle-aged man with graying temples, looking through an account book.
"Father!" Shen Ruoqing's voice trembled, "Look at this..."
When the man looked up and his gaze fell on the silver hairpin, the calligraphy brush in his hand fell to the ground with a "clatter".
——
That night, Su Jing was unusually lucid and was resting by the bed with her eyes closed when she suddenly heard familiar footsteps outside the door—it was Chu Yiran, but much more hurried than usual.
"Your Highness." Chu Yiran pushed open the door and entered, his eyes filled with undisguised joy. "The person has been found."
Su Jing's fingers trembled slightly.
It turns out that Su Jing's uncle, Shen Ji, brought his daughter, Shen Ruoqing, to Xuzhou several months ago to discuss business, just in time for the Northern Qi to attack the city. The father and daughter were trapped in the city, and then the city was sealed off by the plague, which is why they have been stranded ever since.
"It's truly fate." Su Jing coughed lightly twice. "Ah Ran, when the doctor took his pulse today, he told me that Helian Chong's condition has improved. Now that the plague is under control, he'll probably set off for Yanjing in the spring..."
Chu Yiran nodded: "I understand, Your Highness."
They don't have much time left.
Half a month later, Chu Yiran took advantage of the late night to lead a hunched-over "old palace servant" into Su Jing's bedchamber.
"Jing'er..." Shen Ji's voice trembled, tears welling in his cloudy eyes, "Before your maternal grandparents passed away, they were still clutching your mother's portrait. We all thought your mother would live a good life after entering the palace, but we never imagined she would die so young..."
All his unspoken words turned into a sigh. Shen Ji pulled a bundle full of silver coins from his robes: "Your uncle can't help you much, but this is a small token of my appreciation. It must have been tough for you under the rule of Northern Qi, so please take it."
Su Jing looked at Shen Ji through the curtain, watching him go from being tearful when he first entered to being calm and rational now, without feeling a ripple in his heart.
"Thank you for your kindness, Uncle. Please have some tea first," Su Jing said, pointing to the teacup on the table. "What are your plans next, Uncle?"
Shen Ji lowered his head and sipped his tea, his cloudy eyes darting around. "Sigh, what plans can I have... The world is in turmoil these days, and with the end of the year approaching, Xuzhou will soon be unsealed. I'll just take your cousin back to our hometown in Langya to escape the war..."
Throughout his speech, he did not mention Su Jing at all.
Shen Ji felt he had done more than enough, and even brought some money with him. After all, his nephew was in dire straits himself, and he was just hoping that he and his daughter wouldn't be implicated.
Su Jing listened quietly. He hadn't had much hope for this uncle he'd never met before, and simply chuckled and said, "Uncle, are you aware that a militia has recently risen up in the Linzi area to rebel against the Northern Qi?"
Shen Ji's expression changed drastically: "...These matters of war, I, a mere merchant—"
"Their momentum is strong; they've occupied three cities in just half a month. However, their forces are scattered, and they lack some financial support..." Su Jing straightened his sleeves. "Why don't you lend a hand, Uncle? If they succeed, they'll naturally treat you as an honored guest. If they fail, this will tie down Helian Chong's army, and I can coordinate with them from within to escape..."
Su Jing's voice carried a hint of enticement: "If I can return to Southern Jiangsu, I won't be short of benefits from my uncle in the future..."
"Heh..." Shen Ji snorted lightly, abandoning the usual familial pleasantries and revealing his true businessman nature. "You make it sound so easy, but if we fail, can we even save the lives of our entire family? Why should I abandon our current stable life to take such a risk? Besides—" Shen Ji looked directly at Su Jing, "Jing'er, your situation in Nansu is also quite precarious, isn't it?"
Ever since Chu Yiran and Shen Ji explained the whole story last time, Shen Ji had already asked around about Su Jing's situation over the years.
An unfavored and unlucky prince has now been sent to Northern Qi as a hostage. Even if he returns to Southern Su, what future does he have?
Seeing Shen Ji's shrewdness, Su Jing laughed instead: "Hahaha... Uncle is indeed a smart man."
“Then I’ll talk to you about the pros and cons,” Su Jing said, changing the subject. “Linzi is three hundred li away from here, and Helian Chong can’t reach it. Even if the uprising fails in the end, you have a lot of savings over the years. You can take the waterway directly back to Langya. Who would make things difficult for a commoner like you who can’t even kill a chicken? If it succeeds, and the militia controls the salt route, with your connections, it wouldn’t be difficult to increase the profits fivefold, would it?”
Su Jing suddenly leaned forward, the candlelight flickering in his eyes, his voice as soft as a viper's hiss: "In these turbulent times, your business must have been affected quite a bit, Uncle. Merchants have a low social status. Even if you don't think about yourself, you should at least think about your cousin, right?"
Shen Ji's Adam's apple bobbed, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He hadn't expected that this unassuming nephew would be so insightful, grasping the crux of the matter and his weakness in just a few words.
His breathing became heavy, and after a long while, he gritted his teeth and said, "Fine! I'll do as you say, but you have to agree to one condition!"
Outside the window, snow began to fall without anyone noticing. As Shen Ji left, Su Jing watched his departing figure, her eyes filled with icy coldness.
"Your Highness," Chu Yiran entered the bedchamber, "how did your talk with Uncle Shen go?"
“He will do as I say…” Su Jing’s illness had long been cured, but in order to prolong the time, he had been pretending to be seriously ill. At this moment, he reached out and lifted the curtain, and got off the bed with a veil on his face. “After all, my uncle is already this old, so naturally he can’t stand the torment of chronic poisoning.”
Chu Yiran paused, looking down at the teacup on the table: "This tea..."
"Disappointed?" Su Jing walked to the table and stroked the teacup that Shen Ji had just touched. "Aran, I've known since I was little that the kinship in this world is far less reliable than common interests."
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