Chapter 73: What Must Come Cannot Be Avoided

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“Ziliang, speak,” the Seventh Prince said.

Yu Hualiang took a steadying breath before replying, “Zicheng will stay behind and leave with us. Why not keep Ye, the guard, with us as well?”

“Do you know why I chose to divide the troops?” the Seventh Prince asked in return.

Yu Hualiang could only answer that he did not.

The prince laughed. “It seems you must devote yourself more diligently to studying military strategy.”

Yu Hualiang could tell he was being called inexperienced, so he replied in annoyance, “I am but a humble painter, never meant to be a strategist.”

The Seventh Prince laughed, finding Yu Hualiang’s manner truly endearing. No longer keeping him in suspense, he explained, “Intelligence reached me that the enemy intends to assassinate me.”

“What?” Yu Hualiang was shocked. “Then why would you travel with so few men? Isn’t that tantamount to handing yourself over?”

“Your metaphor is apt. I have already made arrangements. I let them travel with my carriage, with Ye accompanying them, so the enemy will believe I am still inside.”

“So… if they attempt an ambush, they’ll be thwarted?” Yu Hualiang guessed.

The prince nodded. “Exactly.”

He continued, “Ye will coordinate with the reinforcements and wipe them out in one fell swoop, ensuring my safety.”

Yu Hualiang was stunned; if he had not disclosed the prince’s whereabouts to Cao Zhiling, they would not be so beleaguered, nor would so many have died.

The Seventh Prince saw him dazed and continued, “Moreover, Ziliang, you haven’t rested well since that night. We will travel by night, and I fear your health will suffer.”

So it was all for him. The guilt in Yu Hualiang’s heart doubled; the prince truly treated him well. Though that night, the prince had indeed gone too far…

But aside from their time in bed, he was always cherished as a treasure.

Yu Hualiang’s face flushed as memories of that night surfaced—he and the prince… Ah! He really did not want to remember. He suddenly stood and turned to leave.

The prince called after him, worried, “Ziliang, where are you going?”

“Oh… I’m just stepping outside for a bit.”

Yu Hualiang, concealing his emotions, walked to the stream. Though it was night, the moonlight was bright, casting the water like a bronze mirror.

He stared at his blurred reflection, lost in confusion. He had truly fallen for the Seventh Prince, but what of his promise to Alyu?

Seeing his own image, he remembered he was a man—he was unwilling to be the passive one. The recollection of the prince’s fevered expression that night made him pick up a stone and throw it into the water.

His reflection scattered; then he recalled the prince had vowed to dismember any traitor. If he learned the traitor was Yu Hualiang himself… what then?

Would he kill him? Yu Hualiang dared not imagine. If that day came, would the prince fulfill his promise and kill him with his own hands?

Yu Hualiang could not bear the thought. He threw another stone, shattering his reflection, but like his worries, it reformed again.

He looked at himself in the water. Who knows how long passed before he rose with a sigh. “A troubled day or a joyful day—they’re all just days… best to be happy.”

When he returned, the prince asked, “How was it? Is the moonlight outside beautiful?”

“I didn’t look,” Yu Hualiang replied.

The prince laughed, “Then what did you do out there for so long?”

Yu Hualiang thought for a moment. “I watched the fish, planning to catch one for Zicheng tomorrow.”

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Yu Hualiang’s smile was like spring bringing warmth, and the Seventh Prince was lost among a thousand blossoms.

“Ziliang… come here, I have something to tell you.”

Yu Hualiang moved closer. The prince said, “Closer still.”

Unsure what the prince wanted, Yu Hualiang complied.

The prince smiled. “Ziliang, bring your ear near.”

Yu Hualiang looked at him with a blank expression. He was lying down, after all—if he brought his ear over, he would end up on the ground.

“Your Highness, if you have something to say, just say it. There’s not a soul within ten miles.”

The prince persisted, “Then help me sit up, Ziliang.”

Yu Hualiang refused. “Zicheng, you’re nearly crippled. Rest and recover. If you want anything, I’ll do it.”

The prince sighed, seeing no way but to speak plainly. “Ziliang, kiss me.”

Yu Hualiang burst into laughter, pointing at him. “Oh, oh, I knew that was your plan!”

“Ziliang,” the prince pleaded softly.

“No way!” Yu Hualiang rejected him, bowing his head and busying himself with his tasks. “Zicheng, just focus on healing, don’t even think about anything else.”

The prince sighed. “Ziliang, this is true torment.”

Yu Hualiang snorted, weaving another vine into the bed. “Alright, alright, clean your wounds and go to sleep.”

The prince obeyed, making things easier for Yu Hualiang. After tending to the wounds, Yu Hualiang washed the bandages. When he returned, his hands were red from the cold. The prince observed, “Ziliang really is the ideal spouse. To have you is a blessing.”

“Please don’t use the word ‘spouse’…” Yu Hualiang corrected him as he hung the clean cloths on the rack he had prepared, then sat by the fire to warm up.

“Come here, Ziliang,” the prince beckoned.

Yu Hualiang eyed him warily. “You’re plotting something again?”

The prince, unfamiliar with the term, continued softly. Yu Hualiang, having no choice, moved closer. The prince extended his hand. “Your hand.”

Yu Hualiang cautiously placed his hand in the prince’s grasp, who pressed it against his chest.

“Is that better?” the prince asked.

Yu Hualiang then realized the prince was warming his hands. The prince’s body was warm, almost hot.

He was still feverish, though better than before. The prince joked, “Now’s perfect… I can warm your hands.”

Yu Hualiang was touched but withdrew his hand. “You’re feverish, aren’t you?”

The prince smiled quietly, closing his eyes. Yu Hualiang knew he was tired. When they were at the prince’s residence, Yu Hualiang never knew when he slipped away, probably busy late into the night.

Thinking back, Yu Hualiang realized the prince wanted more time with him—and that he had delayed the prince’s duties.

These days, though injured and bedridden, the prince seemed genuinely happy. As night deepened, Yu Hualiang lay beside him, moonlight gently illuminating his face.

Just as when they first met, Yu Hualiang leaned closer, hoping to offer him warmth. The prince drew nearer, whispering, “This is so good. I wish it could last forever.”

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Yu Hualiang said nothing, only took off his own clothes to cover them both. Another long night passed.

He woke early, felt the prince’s forehead, and found the fever gone. He was relieved.

He wanted to brew medicine, but realized the herbs he’d gathered had all been used the previous night.

Yu Hualiang sighed. Life had grown truly hard. With no other option, he took the prince’s dagger and headed up the mountain.

Luck favored him that day; he found the necessary herbs quickly and even stumbled upon a wild chicken’s nest with seven or eight eggs. Yu Hualiang was elated.

They had been living on bitter wild vegetables, and the prince, sick as he was, never complained. Yu Hualiang bore the hardship silently, but today he could finally give the prince something good to eat.

He had been out a long time when the weather suddenly turned, and a light rain began to fall. Yu Hualiang gathered the eggs and herbs and hurried back.

But upon his return, disaster struck. He saw several men enter the house—not dressed in the uniforms of Mo.

Yu Hualiang could only lament his own foolishness. Cao Zhiling was determined to kill the prince, and this was Fanhe territory. The Fanhe soldiers knew the land better than Ye and his men. Of course they would find them first.

He dropped the eggs and herbs and ran as fast as he could.

Entering the house, he saw Cao Zhiling with sword raised, about to kill the prince. The two Fanhe soldiers behind him reached for their blades as Yu Hualiang entered.

The prince shouted, “Run!”

Yu Hualiang, stunned, shook his head. Cao Zhiling suddenly spoke, “He has nothing to do with this. Don’t kill him!”

The two soldiers exchanged glances, then slowly retreated. Seizing the moment, Yu Hualiang rushed to the prince and shielded him from Cao Zhiling’s sword.

The murderous light in Cao Zhiling’s eyes made Yu Hualiang tremble. The prince tried to negotiate, “You only wish to kill me. If you spare him, I will order a retreat and submit to your terms.”

Yu Hualiang glanced at him, moved, but he could not let the prince die. He drew a breath and addressed Cao Zhiling solemnly, “Cao Zhiling… don’t forget, you owe me your life.”

Cao Zhiling sneered, his smile wicked, utterly unlike the serious man Yu Hualiang once knew.

He seemed to have thought of something clever, and turned to the prince, “You don’t know, do you?”

The prince sensed no good would come of this.

“The reason you’ve ended up in this predicament—it's all because of the little painter at your side.”

Yu Hualiang cursed inwardly. He dared not meet the prince’s gaze, feeling the burning stare at his back like the fires of hell punishing a damned soul.

Cao Zhiling continued, “All this time, your most trusted person—it was him! He saved me, helped me return to Fanhe! It was him who revealed your movements to me. Yu Hualiang, you truly are a hero of Fanhe!”

“Enough! Stop!” the prince shouted, unable to believe that the one beside him was the cause of his greatest misfortune.

“Heh, you think he loves you? He’s longed to leave you! Mu Zicheng, now that the truth is out, what do you think?”

Cao Zhiling watched the pain on the prince’s face with relish. The prince trembled in fury, while Yu Hualiang nearly coughed blood, but forced it down.

He held back the blood, but could not hold back his tears. He looked at Yu Hualiang and asked, slow and careful, “Is it true? Answer me!”

Yu Hualiang hesitated for a long time, unsure how to explain. Everything Cao Zhiling said was true. Helpless, he sighed inwardly, “What must come cannot be avoided.”

Finally, he uttered a single word: “Yes.”