Jun You Ji Fou

Chapter 87

Qin Zhao clenched his teeth. "You're beyond help."

Chu Mingyun turned his head, smiling gently. "Du Yue is still in the mansion. After the Xiongnu enter the city, who knows what might happen? Take him and leave."

Chu Mingyun tightened his grip on his side, veins visible, struggling internally without moving.

Chu Mingyun, calm to the extreme, said, "I haven't been back to Cangwu Mountain in many years. Junior brother, when you go back, raise a glass of wine at Master's grave for me. Tell him I have no regrets reaching this point."

Without waiting for Qin Zhao's reply, he grabbed the emperor's robe draped on the side, walked out of the study hall's door, and disappeared into the wind, the black robe fluttering with golden threads.

In the residence of the Grand Marshal, Du Yue anxiously waited for a long time. As soon as he saw Qin Zhao, he rushed over. "What's going on with you two? Only coming now? Come on, take me to the palace. I have urgent matters to attend to..."

He pulled Qin Zhao, wanting to leave in a hurry. Qin Zhao, however, grabbed him back, strangely looking at him. Only then did Du Yue realize that something seemed off. "What's the matter?"

"Du Yue," Qin Zhao gripped his hand tightly, seriously saying, "Chang'an is dangerous now. I'll take you out of the city."

"What? No way," Du Yue exclaimed.

"I said I'm not leaving." Infuriated, he shook off Qin Zhao's hand. Suddenly realizing his hand was empty, he stared at it for a moment, unable to react.

Du Yue also came back to his senses, regrettingly frowning. He approached Qin Zhao, holding his hand again with a forced calmness. "You're sending me out, and you plan to come back to find that surname Chu, right?"

Qin Zhao nodded as he looked at his hand being held.

A surge of emotions overwhelmed Du Yue. Suppressing his frustration, he said, "Damn it, if you're planning to face difficulties with him, why bother sending me away? Am I useless here or not trustworthy?!"

Qin Zhao hurriedly responded, "It's not that."

"Do you think I'm the type to abandon you and run away on my own, leaving you in a dangerous situation?"

"I..." Qin Zhao faltered. "I don't want you to be in danger."

"But I'm worried about you too." Du Yue looked at him.

Qin Zhao froze, as if unable to believe what he just heard. Du Yue, confused, questioned, "What's wrong with you?" Suddenly, Qin Zhao embraced Du Yue.

"You..." Du Yue was startled, somewhat unsure in his embrace, hesitating but not pushing him away. "Hey, what are you doing? I'll take it as your promise to take me with you..."

Qin Zhao remained silent, holding him tightly.

In the vast Golden Hall, Chu Mingyun sat alone on the imperial throne. With one hand supporting his chin, his gaze wandered aimlessly across the deserted hall. His other hand rested on the armrest, fingertips lightly tapping, producing a soft sound echoing in the vast hall.

He suddenly stopped tapping, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

The awaited person had arrived.

He heard the thunderous sound of hooves approaching from a distance, abruptly stopping as the entire army froze.

The hall's doors creaked open, and several soldiers pushed them aside, standing on either side. The setting sun's fading light poured in, highlighting a densely packed cavalry outside. A figure in white, with black hair, came to a stop at the entrance, raising his eyes to look inside.

With just that glance, Chu Mingyun's hand on the armrest involuntarily tightened, as if he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat, a nervous tension rising without cause.

Chu Mingyun felt like it had been a long time since he last saw him. His gaze lingered on those eyes, and he seemed reluctant to look away. In silence for a long moment, he finally lowered his eyes and smiled at him, "Why so expressionless? Are you still angry with me?"

"Shiyu," he sighed with a smile, "just like before, give me a sincere smile again, won't you?"

Give me another smile, and I willingly surrender my life to you.

Su Shiyu remained silent, quietly watching him. After a long while, he lowered his eyes, then turned to the soldiers beside him, instructing, "Guard His Majesty well."

He turned and left.

Chu Mingyun sat still on the imperial throne, stunned. The doors of the hall, closing with a long creaking sound, sealed off the evening light, separating him from his beloved. The doors closed tightly, cutting off the tide of the evening glow, leaving the hall dimly lit.

Silence reigned, and he could clearly hear a resonant echo in his heart. Then, uncontrollably, he began to tremble.

He suddenly rushed down from the throne, pushing aside the soldiers blocking his way, opening the doors to follow. The cavalry in the distance turned into a thin line, and the figure in white had long disappeared. He wanted to chase, but suddenly stumbled, half-kneeling to the ground, clutching his chest. He wrinkled his brow, struggling with pain, drops of sweat forming, gasping for breath. The wound in his chest suddenly intensified, as if a sharp blade had reopened it, gushing out dark red blood. The pain was indescribable, rendering him speechless and unable to laugh.

The vast Golden Hall fell into a deathly silence. Chu Mingyun sat alone, one hand pressed against his chin, absentmindedly sweeping the empty hall with his gaze. The other hand rested on the chair, fingertips lightly tapping, producing a faint sound that echoed in the spacious hall.

He suddenly stopped tapping, his lips curling into a slight smile.

The awaited person had arrived.

He heard the thunderous sound of hooves approaching from a distance, abruptly stopping as the entire army froze.

The hall's doors creaked open, and several soldiers pushed them aside, standing on either side. The setting sun's fading light poured in, highlighting a densely packed cavalry outside. A figure in white, with black hair, came to a stop at the entrance, raising his eyes to look inside.

With just that glance, Chu Mingyun's hand on the armrest involuntarily tightened, as if he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat, a nervous tension rising without cause.

Chu Mingyun felt like it had been a long time since he last saw him. His gaze lingered on those eyes, and he seemed reluctant to look away. In silence for a long moment, he finally lowered his eyes and smiled at him, "Why so expressionless? Are you still angry with me?"

"Shiyu," he sighed with a smile, "just like before, give me a sincere smile again, won't you?"

Give me another smile, and I willingly surrender my life to you.

Su Shiyu remained silent, quietly watching him. After a long while, he lowered his eyes, then turned to the soldiers beside him, instructing, "Guard His Majesty well."

He turned and left.

Chu Mingyun sat still on the imperial throne, stunned. The doors of the hall, closing with a long creaking sound, sealed off the evening light, separating him from his beloved. The doors closed tightly, cutting off the tide of the evening glow, leaving the hall dimly lit.

Silence reigned, and he could clearly hear a resonant echo in his heart. Then, uncontrollably, he began to tremble.

He suddenly rushed down from the throne, pushing aside the soldiers blocking his way, opening the doors to follow. The cavalry in the distance turned into a thin line, and the figure in white had long disappeared. He wanted to chase, but suddenly stumbled, half-kneeling to the ground, clutching his chest. He wrinkled his brow, struggling with pain, drops of sweat forming, gasping for breath. The wound in his chest suddenly intensified, as if a sharp blade had reopened it, gushing out dark red blood. The pain was indescribable, rendering him speechless and unable to laugh.

The vast Golden Hall fell into a deathly silence.