sincere
If we're talking about when Chu Yiran and Su Jing became acquainted, it was probably during the Northern Qi Dynasty.
Seventeen-year-old Su Jing was a discarded son personally sent away by the emperor.
That year, the Northern Qi cavalry swept south with unstoppable momentum. The Southern Su had already moved its capital to Jinling, but the Northern Qi's ambitions did not stop there; they wanted the entire Jiangnan region.
In just two months, the Northern Qi army marched all the way from Dezhou to Xuzhou, and even claimed that it would capture Jinling within a month. The nobles of Southern Su were in a panic and sent envoys overnight to sue for peace. At the negotiating table, the Northern Qi envoy smiled arrogantly: "Cease territory, pay reparations, and send a prince to personally deliver the peace treaty as a sign of sincerity."
Looking at the treaty sent by Northern Qi, the emperor remained silent for a long time, his gaze sweeping over the princes before finally settling on Su Jing: "Seventh Prince, you go."
Everyone remained silent. Su Jing gave a self-deprecating smile, stepped forward, and bowed: "Your subject... obeys the order."
After all, he didn't have the right to refuse.
No envoy was willing to accompany them, as everyone feared they might not return. Only Chu Zhongling, the Zhenyuan General of Southern Jiangsu, reluctantly accepted the escort mission.
Upon returning home and mentioning the matter, Princess Anning said with a sorrowful face, "The Seventh Prince is also pitiful..."
Chu Yiran, who had been eavesdropping in the corner, suddenly stood up and said, "Father, I'm going too!"
Chu Zhongling flew into a rage: "Are you crazy? That's a dragon's den and a tiger's lair!"
"You—" Seeing Chu Yiran's stubborn expression, Chu Zhongling took a deep breath, "What can you do in the land of tigers and wolves of Northern Qi? You'll just be throwing your life away!"
Chu Yiran looked up and stared directly at his father: "Then what about you, Father? Knowing that no one in the court dared to go, why did you still accept this assignment?"
Chu Zhongling replied firmly, "Because I am a general!"
Chu Yiran also refused to back down: "Then I am your son!"
“The Northern Qi are wolves in sheep’s clothing; this trip is fraught with peril.” Chu Yiran looked directly at his father. “Your Highness must be protected.”
"Protect? What can you use to protect me?" Chu Zhongling laughed angrily. "Do you think I don't know? Back when the Crown Prince was being chosen as a companion, you deliberately knocked over the inkstone because you didn't want to enter the palace!"
"Alright, alright! Why bring up what happened back then! It's been so long..." Zheng Shuyi stepped in to smooth things over. Afraid that Chu Zhongling would get angry again, she quickly shielded Chu Yiran behind her.
Chu Yiran was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Father, do you think the current Crown Prince... has the ability to govern the country?"
"Insolence!" Chu Zhongling slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly, the teacup rattling loudly. "It seems I've spoiled you too much all this time, that you even dare to utter such treasonous words!"
Zheng Shuyi was shocked and quickly touched her son's face: "Aran, what nonsense are you talking about! What will happen if this gets out!"
“But Su Jingneng.” Chu Yiran’s voice was low, but each word was clear. “If there is still hope for Nan Su, it can only be him.”
"absurd!"
A shout came from outside the door; it was Chu Zhongling's eldest brother, Chu Zhongyue, and second brother, Chu Zhonghe.
Chu Zhongyue sat down in the main hall and snorted coldly, "You, the legitimate son of the Marquis of Zhenyuan, actually dare to defy your father for the sake of an unfavored prince?!"
Chu Zhonghe's face darkened as well: "Who is that Su Jing? A cursed son who brought death to his mother, even His Majesty dislikes him! You're going to Northern Qi with him, do you want our Chu family to die even sooner?"
Seeing this, Chu Zhongling's anger subsided, and he said in a deep voice, "Why are you here, eldest brother and second brother?"
Chu Zhongyue said with a stern face, "Third brother, we came to discuss the ancestral worship ceremony next month with you, but we didn't expect to hear such disobedient words as soon as we arrived!"
Princess Anning stood beside her husband, her fingertips digging into her palms. She was usually gentle, but now she was unusually firm: "Aran is still a child, just saying things without thinking. Why does elder brother have to make it so serious?"
"Children speak without thinking?" Chu Zhongyue sneered. "I think he's been bewitched by that seventh prince! The son of a military family, instead of thinking about making achievements, he spends all his time hanging around that unlucky prince. It's truly shameful!"
“Yes, as the saying goes, ‘One should raise a child with proper upbringing.’ How can he inherit the title of Marquis of Zhenyuan at such a young age? How can we entrust the responsibility of the Chu family to him?” Chu Zhonghe added fuel to the fire, “Your Highness, please don’t spoil the child!”
“You—” Zheng Shuyi was furious.
"Stop talking!" Chu Zhongling raised his hand, turned to look at Chu Yiran, and said, "Kneel down."
Chu Yiran bent his knees and knelt in the hall, his back straight, without saying a word.
"Guards, give this rebellious son thirty strokes of the cane and lock him in the ancestral hall for a month!"
"Husband!" Zheng Shuyi still wanted to plead for her son.
“Say one more word and you'll be punished with an additional ten days off.”
——
In the dead of night, Chu Yiran was locked in the ancestral hall. The moonlight filtering through the window cracks was like a silver knife, coldly cutting the ground.
The men around Chu Zhongling were all seasoned soldiers who fought all year round, and they didn't know their own strength when they attacked. Chu Yiran lay on the futon, his forehead covered with fine beads of sweat, and his waist was burning with pain.
Suddenly, a cool sensation ran down his waist, and the bitter scent of herbs wafted over. Chu Yiran smiled, his tone tinged with a hint of coquetry: "Mother..."
Zheng Shuyi said irritably, "Why did you have to make your father angry for no reason!"
Chu Yiran remained silent. Looking at her son's bloodied back, Zheng Shuyi couldn't help but tear up. She turned and started scolding Chu Zhongling again: "Your father is stubborn too! He hit his own son so hard. Tonight, I'll make him sleep on the floor!"
Chu Yiran chuckled softly, and Zheng Shuyi sighed, "Seventeen years ago, our capital was still Luoyang. Once, my brother went on a tour of Langya and brought back a pregnant woman. As a result, Luoyang fell a few months later, and we moved the capital to Jinling. From then on, my brother felt that this woman was an omen of bad luck and just left her in the harem. Later, she gave birth to a prince and then passed away..."
Chu Yiran pursed his lips: "That woman is the Seventh Prince's birth mother, right?"
Zheng Shuyi nodded, her expression suddenly turning serious: "Aran, have you ever thought that no matter how talented the Seventh Prince is, he can't become emperor with his background?"
Chu Yiran understood Zheng Shuyi's meaning. He remained silent for a while, then suddenly said, "Mother, I have my father to guide me, and I have my mother to protect me when I make mistakes. But what does the Seventh Prince have? He's only seventeen years old..."
“Everyone has their own destiny, what can you do to help him?” Zheng Shuyi sighed, got up and placed the food box next to him. “Here is some Eight Treasure Cake made by my mother. It took her all day to make. Try it.”
Chu Yiran was starving. He quickly took out a piece and stuffed it into his mouth. After chewing a couple of times, he frowned and said, "Mother, this taste... it's from Qizhaifang on the front street, isn't it? Did you fail again and try to pass off something from outside as something else..."
Caught off guard, Zheng Shuyi stumbled and turned around to lightly kick his butt: "You deserve to be in so much pain."
"Ah—" Chu Yiran's face contorted in pain.
——
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. With the food and medicine sent by Zheng Shuyi, Chu Yiran's back healed quickly. However, he was confined to the ancestral hall all day long, with guards at the entrance, and he couldn't even leave. The day to deliver the letter was drawing closer, and if there was any further delay, Su Jing would have to go to Northern Qi alone.
Late at night, taking advantage of a break between guard shifts, Chu Yiran bit his finger and hurriedly wrote a few lines of blood on the inside of his clothes. Then he took out a delicate copper whistle from his pocket and blew it gently.
The sound of flapping wings came from outside the window, and a gray homing pigeon landed on the window frame, tilting its head to look at him.
"Go find Shen Zheyu." He tied the blood-stained cloth strip to the pigeon's leg and whispered, "Tell my senior brother to come and save me quickly."
The carrier pigeon flapped its wings and disappeared into the night.
Three days later, a rustling sound came from outside the ancestral hall.
With a creak, the wooden window was gently pried open, revealing a handsome face with exquisite features and a smile on his lips.
“Junior brother,” Shen Zheyu waved the blood-stained cloth strip in his hand, “who taught you to write letters in blood? I was so scared I thought something really terrible had happened to you, so I rushed down the mountain day and night…”
Chu Yiran's eyes lit up, and she grabbed his wrist: "Senior brother, please help me get out of here!"
Shen Zheyu prepared food and horses for Chu Yiran, and even drugged the guards outside. The two planned to exchange clothes, with Shen Zheyu keeping watch for him in the ancestral hall for the night. By then, even if they were discovered, Chu Yiran would have already gone far away.
After listening to Chu Yiran's explanation of the consequences, Shen Zheyu sighed: "Is it worth risking your life for a prince?"
“He’s a worthy senior brother, Su Jing is different.” Chu Yiran said firmly, “His talent and courage are not to be underestimated, and I am certain that he will make Nan Su different.”
“Your senior brother hasn’t read many books and doesn’t understand your ambitions,” Shen Zheyu placed the bronze whistle into his palm. “Your senior brother only hopes that you will be safe.”
Chu Yiran gripped the bronze whistle tightly: "Thank you, senior brother."
——
Chu Zhongling led his troops to escort Su Jing all the way to Suzhou, until they reached the border between the two countries, where the north wind whipped sand and gravel against their faces.
The Southern Su army stood in a dark, imposing formation, their banners fluttering in the wind, yet not a single soldier dared to cross the line. Opposite them, the Northern Qi's armored cavalry stood solemnly, their swords and halberds gleaming like a forest, their cold light almost painful to behold.
"The Southern Su army halts—" Northern Qi general Helian Chong, high on his horse, spoke in a booming voice, "The letter must be presented by the prince himself; all others retreat a hundred paces! Not a single soldier from the Southern Su shall be allowed to set foot within Northern Qi territory!"
"Insolence!" Chu Zhongling's chest heaved violently, his hand already on the sword at his waist. "Northern Qi promised to negotiate a ceasefire as soon as the peace letter arrived, so what is their intention now?"
"Even when sending a letter of peace, one should show sincerity... Is the Southern Su so petty?" Helian Chong narrowed his eyes and glanced at Chu Zhongling's right hand resting on his sword. "General Chu, do you intend to start a war here?"
The air was stagnant.
The soldiers of Southern Sudan held their breath, their eyes shifting between the general and the prince.
Helian Chong's sneer rang out: "What, is the prince of Nansu scared? Has he already wet his pants?"
A burst of laughter erupted from the Northern Qi cavalry.
Su Jing suddenly stepped forward.
"I'll go." His voice was soft, yet it was like a knife, cutting through a taut string.
Chu Zhongling turned his head sharply: "Your Highness!"
"It's alright," Su Jing said calmly, his fingertips tracing the gilded box containing the books. "It was my job to begin with."
Chu Zhongling clenched his fist, then helplessly let it go, pointing to the row of palace servants behind him: "You all go with His Highness."
Su Jing stood alone between the two armies, holding a gilded box and a book box in his hands. Behind him, the soldiers of Southern Su bowed their heads, the generals remained silent, and the four palace maids accompanying him were so frightened that their legs went weak.
The cold wind blew into my sleeves, but it was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
This is his country.
"Your Highness, don't be afraid," a palace maid on the right suddenly whispered. "Just keep your back straight."
Su Jing suddenly turned his head and met a pair of smiling eyes.
The man was dressed in the gray-brown robes of a palace servant from Southern Jiangsu, his hat brim pulled low, yet it couldn't conceal the arrogant air between his brows—it was Chu Yiran.
"you--"
Su Jing's Adam's apple bobbed, as if something was stuck there, unable to be swallowed or spat out. He instinctively clenched the box in his hand, the gilded patterns digging deeply into his palm. The sharp pain only made him more acutely aware—
This is not an illusion.
Chu Yiran is really here.
Why?
He managed to squeeze out only these three words, his voice so low and hoarse it was almost blown away by the wind.
He didn't ask "How did you get here?", "How did you sneak in?", or even "Do you know how dangerous this is?"
He only asked—
Why?
Why come knowing the road ahead is dangerous?
"I've been by Your Highness's side for two years and haven't learned anything. How can I let Your Highness leave like this?" Chu Yiran said with his head down and a light tone, "Your Highness has forgotten that you haven't taught me martial arts yet?"
He smiled brightly, as if he were not going to a dangerous place in an enemy country, but just having a casual chat.
Su Jing closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he raised his hand and held the box more steadily.
“Okay, I’ll definitely teach you,” he added. “This time I’m serious.”
These words are like a small knife, prying open a crack in the wall of a heart that has been frozen for years.
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