Accidentally Having a Baby with the Future Emperor - Chapter 66

Xiao Rong did not drink the sobering soup.

First, he had not drunk that much wine tonight. Second, he liked the faint, hazy state of intoxication.

Third Brother was actually the Crown Prince. How could Third Brother possibly be the Crown Prince?

Even in his tipsy haze, Xiao Rong could not help but circle back to this question.

Of course, he should have realized long ago that Third Brother’s identity was far from ordinary. How could a mere traveling merchant provoke the great clans of Songzhou Prefecture into mustering nearly ten thousand troops for a joint manhunt? How could a mere merchant possess such learning and bearing? How could a mere merchant be followed by subordinates so loyal unto death, each one so exceptionally skilled?

Yet even though he had entertained such suspicions in the back of his mind, never would he have imagined that the gentle, soft-spoken Third Brother could actually be the same Crown Prince rumored to be cruel and violent.

It must be Heaven’s punishment for his own youthful arrogance.

From childhood, he had been proud and competitive. At twelve years old, during the examinations at the Jade Dragon Terrace, he had bristled at Prince Xiao publicly praising Xiao Yulin for a rather pedestrian essay that won first place. Half-drunk and reckless, he seized the moment and, with boldness born of liquor, dashed off a thousand-word essay titled ‘On Demon Yaksha’. He took as his theme the very scandal then raging in the capital regarding Crown Prince Xi Rong’s northern campaign against the barbarians, a campaign that pointed its sword against his own maternal clan. The opening line, still quoted to this day, was, “In ancient times there were swift ghosts; today there is the Demon Yaksha…”

Although written in drunken impulse, he was quite pleased with his work. He felt it not only proved his own talent but was also an act of righteousness.

Because the essay directly named Crown Prince Xi Rong, a most contentious figure and subject, it caused an immediate sensation in the capital.

Xiao Yulin’s essay, with its dull conception and mediocre prose, was utterly eclipsed by his ‘On Demon Yaksha’.

He basked in that triumph for a long while.

But he never foresaw that his work would spread far beyond the capital at a speed he could not imagine, earning the Crown Prince himself the mocking epithet ‘Demon Yaksha.’

Perhaps the deed was too vicious, so much so that even Heaven could not stomach it. One night, coming out of the library pavilion, he failed to see the path clearly and ran headlong into a great tree outside. Although the tree was chopped down that very night, he had bruised his head badly, raising a great swollen lump that took days to heal.

He thought that was punishment enough. Never did he imagine that the true retribution lay still ahead.

Cause and effect, karmic retribution; it was all just like this.

Had he known earlier that Third Brother was the very Crown Prince whose reputation he had ruined, nothing could have compelled him to sneak into the Eastern Palace for its fine wine, much less boast shamelessly before him, triggering the chain of mishaps that followed.

The Jade Dragon Terrace was cool, but as summer drew near, Xiao Rong had lately found the nights unbearably hot. Tonight, perhaps because of the wine, the heat in his body burned even fiercer.

Although he bathed and changed into a light sleeping robe, he could not rest easy. He tossed and turned, waking several times. In the latter half of the night, unable to sleep at all, he sat on the bamboo mat in his room, staring up at the moonlight imprinted against the paper windows.

Such a beautiful scene inevitably brought his thoughts back to those days in the mountains of Songzhou.

He remembered that night before their parting, when Xi Rong carried him on his back, stepping through puddles glistening with moonlight along the winding mountain path, toward the little hut deep in the hills.

How he had wished, in that moment, that the mountain road would never end.

That Third Brother would carry him on and on, until seas dried up and mountains crumbled, until the end of heaven and earth.

However, he was not Gu Rong. He was Xiao Rong.

From the day of his birth, his fate had been bound tightly to that of the Xiao clan.

All the reckless freedom Gu Rong enjoyed was forbidden to Xiao Rong.

He thought he could escape.

But in the end, he could not.

If, two years ago, he had succeeded in killing that man, perhaps he might have reclaimed the chance to be Gu Rong again.

But he failed.

He failed utterly.

Calm and cold, Xiao Rong brooded over those matters. Lowering his eyes, he stretched out a finger to lift the string of pearls hanging at his waist, idly toying with them. The pearls were smooth and lustrous, like the moonlight of Songzhou in March, like the warmth of Third Brother’s palm, something he could not bear to part with.

All the gold and jewels in the world could not compare with the unadorned strand of pearls.

For a fleeting moment, Xiao Rong thought selfishly, what harm would there be if he secretly played the role of Gu Rong a little longer? Clearly, Third Brother’s feelings for him had not yet cooled. With just a little maneuvering, even as the Crown Prince, Third Brother would surely yield to him as he had in the Songzhou mountains. Before the blood and storm of the capital truly broke, he could still enjoy a brief spell of happiness.

And then?

Xiao Rong instinctively resisted thinking further but he could not stop himself. Once he did, the moonlight that had seemed so beautiful now appeared hateful, stripped of all charm.

At dawn the next morning, as the sky was just beginning to lighten, Xiao Rong went to the bookshelf and pulled down several volumes on philology. He sat at his desk, spread out a sheet of rice paper, and wrote a single line upon it. Then he tore off that line, slipped it between the pages of one of the books, and set the volume aside.

On that slip of paper was written a time and a place.

Xiao Rong then called Mo Dong in. “I heard from the chief steward that yesterday the Crown Prince sent over a visiting card, saying he wished to consult me about foreign scripts. I don’t want to see him. Deliver this book to him in my place.”

Mo Dong carried out the errand within half an hour. Upon his return, he reported, “When they heard that the book came from the Young Prince, His Highness sent his own commander of guards to fetch it.”

Xiao Rong nodded.

He trusted that with Third Brother’s meticulous nature, he would certainly discover the slip of paper hidden in the book.

Once the plan was finally set in motion, Xiao Rong grew calm. He no longer let his thoughts wander. He leafed absently through a book for a while and then ordered Mo Dong to ready the carriage.

Once inside, he gave a simple instruction, “To Apricot Blossom Pavilion.”

News of the heir of Prince Xiao’s arrival left the innkeeper flustered with honor. He personally came to greet him and led Xiao Rong upstairs to the best private room on the eastern side.

“Would the Young Prince care for anything?” Not daring to disturb Xiao Rong directly, the innkeeper cautiously addressed Mo Dong.

However, Mo Dong himself did not know.

Since the Young Prince gave no orders, he said, “Bring a jar of apricot blossom wine for now.”

The innkeeper personally served the wine.

When he and the attendants withdrew, Xiao Rong changed into a loose-sleeved robe of blue gauze. Leaving guards stationed at the private room door, he slipped out the back with only Mo Dong and together they turned into the teahouse next door.

Mo Dong did not dare ask questions, only followed silently.

Inside the teahouse, Xiao Rong said, “I’m going upstairs to meet a friend. Wait down here. If I need you, I’ll call.”

Mo Dong acknowledged his order.

Xiao Rong went up alone straight to the appointed place, to the room named Elegant Gathering at the end of the second-floor corridor, on the right.

The door was shut.

Xiao Rong pushed it open and entered. Sure enough, seated at the tea table by the window was a man.

It was Xi Rong, already sipping tea. He wore only the plainest of black robes, clearly having come in disguise to avoid attention.

At the sound of the door, Xi Rong turned, set down his cup, and smiled. “Rongrong, you’re here. Come, sit.” His tone was easy and natural, as though they had never been parted, as though this were simply a casual meeting on a summer’s day in the capital.

Xiao Rong nodded, closed the door behind him, and crossed the room to sit opposite.

On the table, besides a pot of hot tea, were many small plates of pastries.

“I didn’t know what flavors you like,” Xi Rong said, “so I ordered a little of everything. This peach blossom pastry is said to be the specialty here. Try it, see if you like it.” He pushed a plate of pink cakes in the shape of peach blossoms toward Xiao Rong.

Xiao Rong looked at them for a moment, but did not eat. Steeling himself, he said, “Your Highness, let us speak of serious matters.”

“Serious matters?” Xi Rong looked puzzled. “Are we not engaged in serious matters already? Rongrong, surely the reason you asked me here was to drink tea and enjoy ourselves?”

Xiao Rong was momentarily struck dumb. But soon, he lifted his head, smiled with flawless poise, and met Xi Rong’s eyes. “Then I’ll be frank. The reason I asked Your Highness here was to speak of our matter.”

“Our matter?” Xi Rong did not look up immediately. Instead, he calmly lifted the teapot and poured a fresh cup, placing it before Xiao Rong. His tone remained unhurried and casual. “And what matters is ours?” Then, as though struck by a sudden thought, he raised his eyes. “Don’t tell me that you mean to say you’re not ‘Xiao Rong’ and I’ve mistaken you for someone else?”

Xiao Rong: “…”

Indeed, he had thought of using such a shameless excuse.

However, if he did, the man across from him would only press until he admitted the truth. Better, then, to acknowledge it outright and face everything openly.

Xiao Rong said, “Your Highness jests. Back in Songzhou, it was my poor sight that caused offense. I hope Your Highness will not take it to heart.”

Xi Rong smiled. “If that’s the case, what more is there to say between us? Are we not doing well as we are? After so long apart, how many in this world are as fortunate as we to be reunited? Rongrong, we ought to thank Heaven.”

In the depth of Xi Rong’s dark eyes was that familiar gentleness.

Xiao Rong stared into them, stricken by a sudden rush of guilt; guilt at the thought that once again, he was about to play the part of a heartless man.

However, once the bow is drawn, there is no taking back the arrow. What has already been decided, no matter how cold or heartless, must be done.

Xiao Rong drew in a deep breath and said, “Your Highness, let us forget everything that happened before.”

The room sank into a long silence.

Xi Rong acted as though he had not heard, slowly rubbing the teacup in his hand as he gazed out the window.

Xiao Rong waited a long while, yet no answer came. At last, he asked, “Your Highness, did you hear what I said?”

Only then did Xi Rong draw back his gaze and nod. “I heard. And I understand your intent as well. You are the noble heir of Xiao Royal Residence. I am only a crown prince without the Emperor’s favor, with a perilous path before me. Indeed, I am unworthy of your invitation, unworthy to sit and drink tea and pass the time in leisure with you.

“Such refined pastimes are something you ought to share with the Prince of Jin, or with someone else. It was my overreaching presumption to try and cling to Xiao Royal Residence, to hope to renew old affection with the heir of Prince Xiao.”

“……”

This was nothing like what Xiao Rong had imagined and nothing like the conversation he had rehearsed in his mind. He was forced to protest, “That is not what I meant.”

Xi Rong gave a self-mocking smile. “It doesn’t matter, Rongrong. Your worries and your feelings, I can understand them completely. Be at ease. Since you have resolved to forget what passed between us, once you walk out that door today, I will never again entangle myself with you, nor will I use our former bond to threaten you.”

Although the situation had veered wildly from expectation, everything was proceeding with an almost unbelievable smoothness.

So much so that Xiao Rong felt dazed. He said, “It is truly a relief that Your Highness understands. With the positions we hold now, entanglement can only end in ruin. For Your Highness, it brings not the slightest benefit.”

“Of course I understand. To be involved with me brings you no benefit either.” Xi Rong’s voice remained as gentle as ever, nothing like the ruthless, violent Crown Prince of rumor. “But, Rongrong, there is one thing that has tormented me for a long time, something I have always wanted to know.

“In that letter, you said you never loved me. Was that true?”

This was the very question that would decide the future of their relationship.

When Xiao Rong had written that letter, he had indeed chosen the cruelest words he could. After only the briefest pause, he met Xi Rong’s searching gaze head-on and said calmly, “Yes. What I wrote in that letter was true. I… never loved Your Highness. Everything I did with you was only out of gratitude for my life that you saved.”

Xi Rong seemed to have expected this. His eyes betrayed no ripple. He only followed with another question. “So, the reason you would not pledge yourself to me and would not accept the token of betrothal I gave you was not because you were not ready, but because from the very beginning you never intended a lifelong bond with me, and you never believed our relationship could endure. Is that right? That night we prayed to the Flower Deity together, you said you would offer your silent vow, but in truth, you never prayed at all, did you?”

Although every word was factual, when spoken aloud by Xi Rong, they became unbearable in their cruelty.

And once again, Xiao Rong realized just how cold-blooded he was.

Even in their most intimate moments, he had never let himself sink fully into passion. Always, he thought of the inevitable parting to come. As Xi Rong said, he had never dared to utter any vow of love. He was incapable of fidelity.

“Rongrong, is it true? I want to hear you say it to my face.” Xi Rong’s tone carried stubborn insistence.

They sat face to face across the tea table, eyes locked. Xi Rong’s gaze burned like twin flames.

Under that searing fire, Xiao Rong nodded. “Yes. It is all true. For Your Highness to see me as I truly am, that is for the best.”

Xi Rong gave a low, quiet laugh.

Xiao Rong sat straight-backed, expressionless.

In that moment, he felt no pain, no sorrow; only emptiness. As though what was destined from the beginning had now come to pass, exactly as foreseen.

Only in a far crueler manner than he had imagined.

Xiao Rong longed desperately to escape this scene.

However, he knew he could not. He had to sit there and accept all the anger, resentment, and hatred; whatever the other wished to unleash, it was his due.

If Xi Rong chose to strike him, he would accept it without flinching and without retreat.

Yet Xi Rong did not strike, nor did he curse. When his laughter, whether a mockery, bitterness, or shame at his own blindness for being deceived, finally faded, he only fixed his gaze on Xiao Rong’s face and asked, “Your eyes are a little darkened, you look as if you’ve not slept well. What is it? Does meeting me place such a burden on the heir of Xiao Royal Residence?”

His voice was icy cold and devoid of all gentleness, as though passing judgment on a stranger.

And the heart that Xiao Rong had steeled to iron quivered just slightly at that unfamiliar tone. Hearing it, he forced his lips into a faint smile, keeping his composure flawless. “Is that so? Perhaps it was only too much wine at the banquet last night.”

Xi Rong smiled again. “There’s no doubt that the Prince of Jin’s wine must have been very fine indeed.”

At such a moment, Xiao Rong could only nod, reckless to the point of courting death. “It’s excellent.”

He thought, surely now Xi Rong would strike him, or at least point at his nose and curse him soundly. From the instant he had stepped into the room, he had been waiting for that moment.

However, Xi Rong did not.

Xi Rong only continued to fix him with that unwavering gaze, as though determined to see through not only this outer shell, but also the cold, merciless heart that lay beneath.

After a long silence, Xi Rong’s tone unexpectedly softened. “There is no need for the heir to be tense. Matters of affection are, after all, founded on mutual will. Once you leave this room, I will never force you.”

Xiao Rong froze.

He had not expected that even now, Xi Rong could remain so forbearing.

However, Xi Rong went on, “It’s only that, if I remember correctly, that day in the mountain hut, it was you who first confessed your feelings to me. Only then did I dare to share intimacy with you. Strictly speaking, from the very beginning, it was not I who forced you; it was you who deceived and toyed with me. I can choose not to hold it against you, I can even grant your request. But after misleading me to such an extent, do you truly mean to walk away as though nothing ever happened?”

E/N: He got drunk… at 12???