107 Sunflowers and Little Chick (Additional Three Thousand)

The carriage carrying Mu Zhijun traveled steadily westward, leaving the city behind and finally coming to a halt in a desolate, deserted place.

The elite guards who had been pursuing them arrived and, without a word, charged fiercely with their weapons raised. Yet before they could even get close, nets suddenly fell from above, ensnaring them completely.

Lian Tangcheng and Axi climbed out of the carriage.

The captured guards were all stunned, exclaiming, “Why is it you two? Where’s that little servant?”

Axi ordered his men to disarm the guards. “You’d better worry about your own lives first.”

One guard, unwilling to submit, retorted, “Even if he dies, he’ll go before us. Do you think the arrows fired by the guards are ordinary? Their tips are coated with deadly poison!”

“Oh,” Axi replied indifferently, then turned to Lian Tangcheng. “Father, thank you for deciding to return and save Zhijun.”

“I’m not saving him for his sake. I can’t stand that hypocrite, Xu Zhenglin! Anyone who opposes him isn’t my friend, or at least not my enemy,” Lian Tangcheng said bluntly, never hiding his stance.

Axi understood. “In any case, it was your timely awakening that led to this ingenious plan—luring the tiger away and capturing them all in one fell swoop. Lesson learned.”

“Wait,” Lian Tangcheng suddenly touched the back of his neck as if recalling something. “I was knocked unconscious just now, right? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have woken up outside the courtyard. Who did it?”

His eyes blazed with fury, as if daring anyone to lay a hand on him again. Axi instinctively responded, “Father, it wasn’t me!”

Immediately, he covered his mouth in panic—damn! He’d just implicated himself, but at the same time, he’d betrayed his comrades.

Lian Tangcheng narrowed his eyes. “There were only three of us in the main hall—me, you, and Mu Zhijun. If it wasn’t you, then it must have been him!”

With a swift motion, Lian Tangcheng grabbed Axi, who was turning to leave. “Tell me, where is that little bastard now?”

Meanwhile, in a residence somewhere inside the city, Mu Zhijun cautiously knocked on the back door after ensuring no one was watching.

Knock-knock-knock, knock-knock.

The rhythm was a short-long-short pattern—a secret signal indicating he was one of their own.

Leaning against the wall to wait quietly for someone to open, he was soon greeted by a familiar loud voice from inside.

“Damn it! Who is it now? I finally got my braised pork out of the pot and just took a bite, and here you are knocking again! Can’t you wait until I’m done eating?”

It was Zhu Xishi.

“And why the hell do you have to use those coded knocks? You’re making it impossible for me to pretend I’m not home!”

With a clatter, the door bolt slid back, and the door opened.

“First, don’t ask if the masters are home—they’re not. Second, don’t ask where they’ve gone—I don’t know. And third—eh!”

Zhu Xishi suddenly hiccupped and froze upon seeing Mu Zhijun framed in the doorway.

He propped his elbow on the wall, flashing a playful smile. “I heard the best cure for hiccups is to gulp down cold water with your neck straight. Want to try it now?”

“You… ugh!” Zhu Xishi’s mind flashed back to the argument they’d barely finished that morning. She opened her mouth to retort but was overtaken by another hiccup. This was bad—hiccups were impairing her fighting spirit. She had to stop them first.

Turning away, she muttered, “You… ugh! Wait, ugh, wait for me to…”

Her figure quickly disappeared toward the kitchen nearest the back door. Mu Zhijun’s smile vanished as he reached out and closed the door behind her.

Once the door was shut, his body weakened, slumping down against the wall. When he glanced back, the arrow lodged firmly in his back caught his eye.

He reached behind, intending to pull it out, but his hand faltered halfway and dropped.

This was the third “gift” from his biological father. He should have been used to it by now, but the pain still stole his breath away.

At eight years old, he had first mustered the courage to find the then Ministry of Rites deputy minister’s home. He dared not announce himself, fearing it would sully his upright father’s reputation. He hid beneath a tree opposite the gate, fasting and waiting all day until dusk, when he finally saw his father return. Without thinking, he rushed out—not to embrace him, but just to see him up close. He wanted to understand why other children called him “fatherless,” and maybe it wasn’t so unbearable after all.

How did his father greet him? Because he ran so fast, almost knocking down his father as he stepped out of his carriage, his father retaliated with a hard slap. Being small and frail, Mu Zhijun was knocked to the ground, blood trickling from his nose into his mouth, silencing his faint call of “Father.”

At eighteen, after changing his name and topping the imperial exams, riding proudly to his appointment, he dreamed that his mother could finally leave the brothel, and his father would no longer see him as a disgraceful stain. But in less than a day, his lineage was the sole reason for his demotion back to the Chu Brothel. The one who exposed this secret to the emperor was none other than his biological father, now Minister of Rites, Xu Zhenglin.

Today, he faced off against a group of elite guards. The best way to escape was to seize his father as leverage, yet as he passed by him, he didn’t take that chance. His reasoning? His father was only one of the crown prince’s aides—cutting off a single hand wouldn’t help. The last person had to be severed. Yet his father had no hesitation in ordering him shot.

What a cruel irony! Not a satire of Xu Zhenglin’s inhumanity, but of his own lingering hope that his father might possess some humanity.

What sins had he committed in a past life to deserve such a father in this one? The pain in his back pierced through to his heart, making Mu Zhijun wish he could close his eyes and never open them again.

“Hey, why is the back door closed?” Zhu Xishi’s voice rang out again. “Mu Zhijun? Mu Zhijun! If you dare run away without a fight again, I swear…”

She ran toward the door, but as she opened it, the words “You’re dead meat” caught in her throat.

What was going on? What was the story with that arrow protruding from his back? And why did Mu Zhijun’s closed eyes and desperate expression stir such worry in her?

Her entire focus was on the arrow. Unconsciously, her fingers trembled as she reached out, stammering his name, “Mu, Mu, Mu…”

She couldn’t even finish calling him.

Mu Zhijun opened his eyes, wanting to say something, but upon seeing her quivering fingers reach toward him, he closed his mouth again.

Seeing him awake, Zhu Xishi hurriedly asked, “You’re not dead yet?”

The arrow’s pain flared anew, and Mu Zhijun thought bitterly, How much do you want me dead? But recalling the trembling of her fingers moments ago, he decided not to argue this time.

He propped himself up with one hand on the ground and the other on the wall, preparing to stand.

Zhu Xishi rushed to support his waist firmly. “Are you okay? Do you still have strength? Should I carry you inside?”

The sudden contact made Mu Zhijun’s heart flutter, but her words made him stiffen. “Even if I’m weak and have no strength, do you think you can carry me inside? Really?”

If Zhu Xishi weren’t holding him, she might have already patted her chest in assurance. “Of course! I’ve been slaughtering pigs for eighteen years. A mother pig weighing over two hundred pounds, I’ve carried her meat on foot all the way into the city. You, looking like a scrawny little chick barely over a hundred pounds, you think I can’t carry you? I…”

Mu Zhijun silently puffed out his chest. He wasn’t a two-hundred-pound sow, and though he was definitely not a scrawny little chick either, he hadn’t realized she saw him that way.

Zhu Xishi, her face pressed close as she held him, immediately sensed something was off and hastily changed her words, “…Uh, why don’t you feel all bony and sharp? It’s just…”

She looked up just in time to meet Mu Zhijun’s gaze.

Her cheeks instantly flushed a deep red. What had she just said?

Mu Zhijun’s eyes curved into a smile. The fiery sunflower was definitely to his taste.

“Ah, my braised pork’s almost ready. I—I need to go check on it,” Zhu Xishi said, loosening her grip and turning to flee inside.

Too slow—at least slower than Mu Zhijun.

His smile vanished instantly. Closing his eyes, he let his shoulders drop and his body sag, sliding down the wall once more.

Zhu Xishi, alarmed, turned back and caught him in another embrace. “Hey, Mu Zhijun! Hey! You fool in love! There’s no one home; I can’t save you!”

Leaning his head against the nape of his beloved’s neck, Mu Zhijun had hoped to savor her evident concern once more, but instead, the pain in his head worsened.

“Hey, wake up! You have to tell me what to do before you pass out again! Can we pull out the arrow? Or do we need a knife? I don’t have a dagger—can I use the butcher’s cleaver? Damn it! Why today of all days? Nobody’s home at all! I really only know how to slaughter pigs, not save people…”

Mu Zhijun cracked open one eye, watching Zhu Xishi pace anxiously in place. Though the emptiness in his heart was slowly filling again, if she kept moving like this, she might attract unwanted attention.

“Let’s go inside first,” he said weakly, disguising his voice to sound as faint as possible.

“Okay, okay, I’ll carry you inside.”

“No! No!” Mu Zhijun quickly stopped her, blocking her arms as she crouched to lift him. If she carried him that way, would he ever be able to show his face in public again?

“I can walk myself,” he insisted, gripping the doorframe and taking a step forward. “You just need to support me.”

“Okay, okay.”

They stumbled together, finally making it into the nearest kitchen. Zhu Xishi helped him sit at the vegetable prep table, then turned to examine the arrow lodged in his back.

“Should we pull it out first?”

“And then what? Do you have the antidote for the poison coated on the arrow tip?”

“What? It’s poisoned?” Zhu Xishi jumped back in shock. “No way, I’ll go find someone to save you right now!”

Mu Zhijun rested his head on one hand, speaking softly, “By the time you get back, I might be…”

“Don’t say that!” Zhu Xishi covered his mouth with her hand. “With me here, you absolutely won’t… won’t…”

Tears as big as beads suddenly spilled down her cheeks.

Mu Zhijun’s expression flickered. He reached out, pulling her down gently, and kissed her.

－－－－－－Side Note－－－－－－

This chapter has been revised multiple times!

Originally, I had Zhu Xishi coming to the rescue with Guan Shiyin’s help, but it just didn’t feel right. Besides, Mu Zhijun has been through so much suffering—shouldn’t he get some sweetness for a change? Considering Mu Zhijun’s stubbornness about avoiding Xishi back in Shengjing, this moment of confrontation between them had to be different, more genuine.

So, I rewrote it into this passionate chapter mingling laughter and scolding. I think it’s better than the initial version, which was just some heartfelt confession in a carriage…

Apologies for the late update tonight.

Maybe the next chapter will have some spicy scenes to cheer everyone up?