ITVCFITB CHAPTER 20

 Chapter 20 — Looks Like I Sprained My Ankle

By all reasoning, this “Third Prince goes missing” business shouldn’t have happened in the previous life. If it had, there’s no way Luo Renshou and the others wouldn’t have caught wind of it and Shen Mingyun’s a blabbermouth to boot. Anything he knows, he spills. By this point the Fourth Prince was already thick as thieves with him; they’d met in private more than once.

After the Emperor and Empress confirmed the marriage with the Luo family would proceed, they dismissed the father and son.

On the way back, Luo Shuyu sat in the carriage replaying the audience.

Perhaps concern was clouding his judgment. The moment he heard Li Mingjin was in trouble that afternoon, his heart had been in turmoil. But just now, sneaking glances at the Emperor and Empress, he’d noticed neither looked as anxious as he’d imagined. Never mind the Empress, she wasn’t Mingjin’s birth mother, but the Emperor shouldn’t have been so calm. Was there more to this?

Luo Renshou, unaware of his son’s thoughts, had a rare moment of admiration. When the Emperor asked for a decision, he’d assumed Luo Shuyu would regret it and ask to break the engagement. He hadn’t expected the boy to think of the Luo family’s face and win him such favor.

He offered comfort to this son who’d surprised him: “Don’t worry too much about His Highness the Third Prince. From His Majesty’s tone, men have already been sent to search. There should be word by morning.”

“Mmm. I know,” Luo Shuyu said, not much in the mood to talk.

“If the Third Prince truly never comes back,” Luo Renshou probed, “once you marry, you’ll be on your own for life, no different from keeping vigil by a lamp.”

Spoken like that, the words rang hollow; Luo Shuyu heard the subtext at once. This was less comfort than a roundabout reminder, especially when the one consigned to a nunnery lamp right now wasn’t him but Liu-shi.

“There is no ‘if.’ He’ll come back. Father, if you truly care for me, don’t say such things. Better to send more men to help search. If alive, I’ll see the man; If dead, I’ll see the body.” Luo Shuyu’s voice was steady, nothing like the fragile grief he’d shown in the palace. He believed Li Mingjin lived. They hadn’t married yet. There were still so many things undone from the last life. He hadn’t even apologized to him.

To Luo Renshou, his son’s fixation on the Third Prince bordered on the inexplicable, as if the two had pledged themselves in secret. As far as he knew, they’d never even met. What deep feeling could there be? Forget it. He didn’t understand this new Luo Shuyu. A changed temperament was a changed temperament. Becoming a prince’s consort was honor enough for the Luo clan.

Back at the residence, Luo Renshou didn’t rest. He ordered men out to search for the Third Prince as much for appearance as anything, with the Emperor personally invested in this marriage. He also sent buyers out into the night, adding another twenty percent to Luo Shuyu’s dowry.

Luo Shuyu’s arrangements were simpler. He asked Feng Momo if any word had come from the Third Prince’s estate. She shook her head. She held back her platitudes; he didn’t want to hear them.

He stood before the spread-open wedding robe, an elegant green and the cyan deep robe draped beside it. These were his wedding garments.

In Great Xia, to distinguish a lady’s wedding from a ger’s, the colors differed: women wore red, gers wore green, while the groom’s riding attire was a standard red. A ger’s wedding clothes used bolder palettes, earning more praise than a woman’s. People loved to say, “red and green are a perfect match.” At bottom, it reflected the rise in status of gers in Great Xia; otherwise, few would mind such details.

He told himself he could not collapse. If Li Mingjin had been fine in the last life, he would be fine in this one.

He wanted to storm over to Tranquil Cottage and drag Shen Mingyun out for a beating, but it would be useless. As always, without an admission there was no proof. All he’d do was risk exposing his rebirth.

The summer insects and birds were loud enough to fray the nerves, but to Luo Shuyu they were proof he was alive. Cloaked, he sat at the window and waited for good news that might not come. Qingwang urged him to rest; he waved them all away.

The more he thought, the more certain he was that Li Mingjin lived. Others could laugh all they liked; he would not retreat. Li Mingjin was his backing, and in time he would be Li Mingjin’s strategist in turn, if only they could pass this trial.

He already had a new plan to deal with Shen Mingyun. All he needed was for Li Mingjin to return safely, just come back.

If his rebirth had truly brought Li Mingjin an early death, he wouldn’t live on alone. Before he died, he’d drag Shen Mingyun down with him.

He didn’t sleep all night, and yet at dawn he was clear-eyed, not drowning in sorrow that the groom might not appear.

Sorrow was the most useless thing now. Hadn’t he endured worse? Could any pain be compared to watching the one you love die before your eyes?

A new day began; the Luo estate launched into a full cleaning. Gardeners tended the plantings; maids and matrons shook curtains and washed every courtyard.

After breakfast, Luo Shuyu sat in the courtyard to feed his little goldfish.

He’d barely tossed a few grains before a maid called, “Fifth Young Master is here!”

Luo Shuyao?

Luo Shuyu lifted his head to see Luo Shuyao, chin tilted, swaggering, and coming his way.

“Luo Shuyu, I’ve heard it all. You’re cursed by fate, and what’s more, you bring ruin on your husband.”

In the past days, after Luo Shuyu had clapped his mother in confinement, soon to be sent off to the ancestral hall, he’d woke to the news that the Third Prince had gone missing, his fate unknown. The welcoming procession the day after tomorrow might not even happen. If the Third Prince died, wouldn’t Luo Shuyu become a widower? He’d strutted about on the Third Prince’s name, who’d have thought he’d get his comeuppance? Ah, how the tables turn. He wouldn’t sleep easy without coming by to gloat.

Luo Shuyu dusted fish feed from his fingers. “What mangy cur is barking here? Been eating filth again? Your mouth reeks.”

Routinely flattened in war of words, Luo Shuyu flushed. “Who are you calling filth-eater!”

“Whoever answers, that’s who. Only dogs forget their beatings.” He’d thrashed him during the dowry affair; why come again? Luo Shuyu truly didn’t understand how his cousin grew bolder the more foolish he proved, commendable courage, really, being used as a spear by Luo Shuyue every time.

Three lines in, Luo Shuyu showed his true colors. “Don’t you bully me too far!”

The more Luo Shuyu looked at him, the more entertaining he found it. “This is my courtyard. How exactly am I bullying you? Did I drag you here with immortal arts? Can you not use your pig brain for once?” He was in no mood to be polite.

“You, you, you!” spluttered Luo Shuyao. He’d come to teach a lesson and vent for his mother. Somehow he was the one worked up.

“If there’s nothing else, go back. Don’t be an eyesore.”

“Hmph! I’ll be watching to see how you marry the day after tomorrow!”

Luo Shuyu’s face sank.

“I’ll be watching you bow with a chicken at the ceremony!”

“Feng Momo,” Luo Shuyu said, “see him out.”

Aside from Feng Momo, another stout matron lifted the would-be heckler and carried him out. Once again, he’d eaten dirt at Luo Shuyu’s hands with no one to complain to. He could only stamp at the gate. In the old days he’d have run to Liu-shi and wept; now she was about to be shipped off. The thought made him spit toward Luo Shuyu’s courtyard.

“Luo Shuyu, I curse you to grow old alone!”

Luo Shuyu looked up at the sky. Even if he did bow with a chicken the day after tomorrow, he’d still be the Third Prince’s legitimate, properly wedded consort.

Having the pest hauled out so bluntly felt…refreshing.

He took a turn around the yard, then went to the study. “Qingwang, ink.” As usual, he sat to write a letter to Li Mingjin.

Another day blinked by.

Still no word of the Third Prince’s safe return. His heart sank heavier.

That night, just after Luo Shuyu fell asleep, a shadow vaulted the wall, eased open his window, and slipped lightly inside.

He lifted the curtain softly and saw Luo Shuyu curled in sleep. His heart settled. He’d heard that the moment he disappeared, the Luo family had rushed to bully him; he’d come to look in on him.

By then Luo Shuyu had sunk into a deep sleep, but his dreams were restless, dragging him back through the worst of his past life. Tears slid, unbidden, from the corners of his eyes.

The shadow at the bedside reached out and gently wiped them away.

Was he dreaming something sad about him?

Warm fingertips brushed his cheek. Luo Shuyu stirred, caught that finger in his sleep, and muttered, “Li Mingjin, if you dare make me bow with a chicken, you’ll regret it.”

Startled, Li Mingjin froze, afraid to move and wake him.

He looked down again and saw that he still slept and the tears had stopped. Li Mingjin quietly freed his hand and slipped back out over the wall.

Mid-vault, he asked Shadow Three, “In Great Xia, there’s a custom that groom and husband aren’t to meet in the three days before the wedding. I just saw him. Do you think it’ll affect our luck?”

Ever the considerate shadow guard, Three replied smartly, “Young Master Luo was asleep and didn’t see you, so it shouldn’t count.”

“Reasonable,” Li Mingjin said, satisfied and swung himself down from the wall.

Shadow Three dropped after him in one smooth motion, then saw the Prince pause by the base of the wall. “Master, what’s wrong?”

A beat. “…I think I sprained my ankle.”

Author’s Note:
Third Prince: Wife, my leg is broken! QAQ
Luo Shuyu: …I’ll go bow with the chicken instead.

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Little note(s):
Liu-shi: She’s no longer seen as “Madam” or “Lady” since she’s been disgraced, banished, or stripped of title. Hence, the shi after Liu.
Mangy cur: In Chinese context, a filthy, contemptible, stray dog, used to insult someone as vulgar, lowly, and disgusting. To be more precise, mangy is a skin disease in animals (especially dogs), causing hair loss and scabs aka dirty, or disgusting. Cur is often used as an insult for a lowly or despicable person.