Chapter 0133: Hu Lai’s Nonsensical Ramblings, Xie Chengze’s Mighty Man Tears
The ice lanterns’ effect exceeded Xie Chengze’s expectations, boosting his confidence further.
However, in his ice-snow capital plan, ice lanterns were merely a minor component, while ice sculptures and snow carvings constituted the main focus.
Sheng Yiren had already sought help from the merchant guild to gather all craftsmen skilled in carving statues from Liaozhou, Shenzhou, and the upper capital. Yet, Xie Chengze still felt uncertain. Being inexperienced in carving and having to oversee craftsmen from various regions, he worried that managing the ice sculpture project would cause significant delays, potentially missing the optimal timing.
Perhaps… he could coax Old Gu into coming?
Although the freezing weather here seemed unfair to the elderly man having to travel far, Xie Chengze had no expertise to rely on.
With a guilty conscience, Xie Chengze stealthily pulled out a piece of paper to write to Old Gu. At that moment, Hu Lai burst in enthusiastically, “Your Highness, do you have paper and brush? The capital is urging me to write a secret report!”
“Here.” Xie Chengze handed him a sheet, but Hu Lai waved it off, “This isn’t nearly enough!”
“Huh?” Just as Xie Chengze grew puzzled, he watched Hu Lai unceremoniously scoop up all the paper from the desk.
“Get back here!” Xie Chengze rapped the table as Hu Lai turned to leave, “Write it right here!”
“Alright then!” Assuming Xie Chengze didn’t trust him, Hu Lai sat down beside him. Noticing Xie Chengze picking up a brush as if to write to someone, he asked, “Your Highness planning to coax someone too?”
Xie Chengze: …Though reluctant to admit it… “Yes.”
“Then let us, ruler and subject, deceive together!” Hu Lai declared with fervor, his eyes sparkling as he lifted the brush and began writing with divine inspiration.
Xie Chengze had barely written two characters when Hu Lai had already completed two lines.
His gaze drifted involuntarily toward Hu Lai’s paper, where he read:
[First day away from the capital, noon: The Second Prince rode on horseback. The horse was pitch black, robust in build, its coat slick as oil—a prized Ferghana horse named Black Dragon from the Cheng Huan Palace stables, dearly beloved by the palace grooms. Usually, blah blah blah…]
Xie Chengze watched in disbelief as Hu Lai dedicated nearly five hundred words to describing this horse.
Xie Chengze: …
Hu Lai, you’re even more absurd than that prefect who wrote memorials inquiring about His Majesty’s health!
Xie Chengze lowered his head to write the letter to Old Gu. By the time he finished, Hu Lai was still scribbling furiously, having reached the second day away from the capital. He described what meals and tea the Second Prince consumed in a passing county town, lavishing eight hundred extravagant words on depicting the dishes, full of implications about the prince’s deep appreciation and satisfaction.
When Xie Chengze returned from dinner, Hu Lai remained hunched over his desk, munching on a cold multigrain pancake while writing. He had progressed to the third day away from the capital: the frail Second Prince developed a high fever, his cheeks burning and skin flushed tenderly, like a Begonia Flower bud intoxicated by strong wine, or a delicate maiden from storybooks drugged and awaiting plucking. Hu Lai poured out a thousand words of imagined spring-themed prose, causing Xie Chengze to see black and collapse directly onto his bed.
In the dead of night, Xie Chengze dreamed he was dressed in bridal attire, bound tightly to a bed, only for the groom climbing onto the bed to reveal Shen Yuan’s handsome, chiseled face. Startled awake from this near-death dream, Xie Chengze discovered Hu Lai had been writing by lamplight all night and had already penned six days of the Second Prince’s journey out of the capital—detailing how he was robbed by mountain bandits and taken up the mountain to become their “fortress wife.” The perilous process and the bandits’ ruthlessness filled a staggering eight pages!
Xie Chengze: “Brother! Take a break! Aren’t your hands in pain?!”
Hu Lai: “No problem! This humble subject is ambidextrous!”
The next day, Xie Chengze went out to survey the frozen condition of the Hun River north of Qiantai Mountain. Upon returning, he saw Hu Lai asleep on the desk and sighed in relief, thinking to himself that the guy had finally learned to rest.
Then, Hu Lai suddenly lifted his head, bursting with energy, and exclaimed, “Aha! That dream I just had is perfect—let’s write this!”
Huh? A dream?
What does Hu Lai’s dream have to do with writing letters?
Curious, Xie Chengze walked over and saw Hu Lai writing: 【On the thirteenth night after leaving the capital, the Second Prince, startled awake from a near-death dream, summoned this humble subject to recount his dream. The Second Prince dreamed that he and the Crown Prince had a falling out, and during a coup attempt, he suddenly found the Crown Prince strikingly handsome. Overcome with beastly desires, he decided to imprison the Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace, blah blah blah…】
Xie Chengze: “…”
Unable to bear it any longer, Xie Chengze smacked Hu Lai on the back of the head. “Sheer nonsense! Hu Lai! If you’re so good at making things up, why not just call yourself ‘Hu Che’ (Nonsense)!”
Hu Lai quickly stood up, clasped his hands in a salute, and said delightedly, “Thank you for bestowing this name, Your Highness! This humble subject quite likes it!”
Xie Chengze: “…”
Xie Chengze: @#$%! I #$% your %*&!
It felt like slapping a sycophant across the face, only to have him lick your hand in response.
Dizzy and exasperated, Xie Chengze decided it was better not to argue with Hu Lai. Holding his throbbing head, he went to the firewood shed. The cook of Qianjin Zhai was making coarse grain pancakes and hurriedly bowed upon seeing him. “Second Prince.”
“Any food? I’m starving.” Lately, using his brain so much had made him constantly hungry.
“The steamed buns are ready.” The cook lifted the steamer lid but hesitated. As bandits, their meals weren’t refined, and the buns weren’t pretty. He felt sorry for the delicate Second Prince suffering in Qianjin Zhai.
Xie Chengze didn’t mind. He reached for a warm bun and stuffed it into his mouth.
As he chewed, he suddenly shed tears like a tough man, sniffling.
“Second Prince!” The cook, alarmed, rushed over, unsure what to do. “What’s wrong? Is it too unpalatable?”
“No.” Xie Chengze wiped away his bitter tears, holding the bun with both hands against his lips, his voice thick with nasal tones. “This prince just… misses the pastries Qinghe made.”
Since coming to Liaozhou, he hadn’t eaten any sweets.
Outside the firewood shed, a man carrying a rabbit-shaped ice lantern paused in his steps.
Qinghe…
He had been in Liaozhou for so long, yet he never realized how deeply the other missed that person in the capital. That day, seeing the stunningly beautiful and noble youth cry before him, Shen Yuan had been flustered, but a secret joy also rose in his heart, thinking how much the other cared about whether he trusted him.
But now, seeing the young man shed tears so easily for another in private—tears tightly intertwined with an emotion called longing—Shen Yuan tightened his grip on the ice lantern’s handle, his heart roiling with complex emotions that refused to settle.
The torrent of reversed time had severed his future self from these figures of the past. Gazing at the comrades he had once fought alongside, even as he rejoiced in their unexpected return, he still felt an invisible chasm separating them, making it impossible to firmly realize the desires in his heart.
He felt as though he were walking a solitary rope suspended over a cliff—one misstep, and he would plunge into the abyss, never to awaken again.
The loneliness and cold grew more intense with each step, every move foreshadowing storms of blood and violence.
Yet Xie Chengze’s arrival had undoubtedly added another “anomaly” to this world.
He knew of the past life’s events, and his aspirations aligned unexpectedly with Shen Yuan’s own. It was as if a carpenter skilled in bridge-building had rushed to the other end of the precarious rope, excitedly calling out, “Wait for me! I can save you!”
After breaking through the icy barrier of mutual distrust, Shen Yuan had thought they would support each other, becoming each other’s sole reliance.
But only now did Shen Yuan realize that he alone was the one walking in solitude through this world. In Xie Chengze’s eyes, he was not the only one who shone with vivid colors.
Xie Chengze had Wuhen and Wuji to protect him, Zhu Xiaobiao and Jing Ze to follow him, and even a Su Qinghe to yearn for. His heart was not lonely, and in the future, more and more diverse people would appear by his side.
In his world, Shen Yuan…
Was merely one among them.
Not worth mentioning.
Watching the young man sitting on a small stool, chewing on dry steamed buns, his tear-reddened eyes resembling the exquisitely carved ice lantern rabbit in his hand, Shen Yuan pressed his lips into a tight line and turned away, silently leaving the woodshed.
Xie Chengze forced down three steamed buns before finally feeling full.
Though his mind still felt somewhat swollen, he had to hurry and consult with craftsmen about cutting ice from the Hun River. With time pressing, he couldn’t afford to dawdle over the meal.
Rising and stepping out of the woodshed, Xie Chengze suddenly felt his foot bump against something. Looking down, he saw an exquisitely carved, adorable rabbit ice lantern.
He bent down to pick it up. The little ice rabbit had two long ears slanting upward, four short legs as if kicking through clouds, and a round, petite tail ball at its rear—utterly delightful.
But the most striking feature was the two small round beads embedded as the rabbit’s eyes, crimson red, strikingly similar to someone’s bloodshot, tear-reddened eyes at that very moment.