ITVCFITB CHAPTER 85

 Chapter 85 — Homecoming

When an emperor leaves the palace, the world knows. Banners unfurl, ceremonial ranks take their places, and the Imperial Guard moves as a wall of steel. With pomp like that, it’s impossible not to notice, no one in Great Xia enjoys such treatment but the Son of Heaven himself.

Even the least gossip-minded citizens stared and whispered. Why this sudden excursion with no prior notice? By custom, routes were cleared in advance so no commoner might blunder into a noble’s path. But today? No roadblocks, no warnings. What could be so urgent?

Li Mingjin had no idea the Tiansheng Emperor was personally riding out to greet him. When his carriage drew near the city gate, he and Luo Shuyu saw the formation ahead, only then did they realize.

They didn’t feel close to the emperor, but distance on one side doesn’t prevent imagined closeness on the other.

Before they reached him, Li Mingjin murmured, “Yu’er, we need to look very moved.”

“I know,” Luo Shuyu said. “And you, summon that same emotion from when we left Gucheng. If you can squeeze out tears, do.”

“I’ll try,” Li Mingjin said. Hard to muster awe for the man who hadn’t once tucked him into bed, taught him to write, or told him how to be a decent person.

For Luo Shuyu it was worse, he felt even less. Still, two drops of homesick tears for the capital could be faked. Thank heaven the emperor had come on a whim; if the Luo family had followed, the only urge he’d feel toward Luo Renshou was to kick him, not cry in front of him.

The carriage halted. Li Mingjin helped Luo Shuyu down; hand in hand, they went forward.

Li Mingjin pitched his voice higher, as if pulled taut with feeling. “Your son greets Father!”

Luo Shuyu followed suit with a bow.

The emperor was genuinely delighted, his gaze running from Li Mingjin to Luo Shuyu and back. “Good, good. You haven’t changed, yet somehow you have.”

“Father can’t tell I’ve gotten sturdier?” Mingjin teased.

The emperor squeezed his arm. “Sturdier indeed. Any injuries at the front?”

“Only scrapes,” Mingjin said lightly. “Nothing worth worry.”

“How could a father not worry? Your body comes from your parents,” the emperor scolded, pleased at the chance to say so.

If Mingjin had to stage father–son affection, at least six years in Gucheng had honed his performance. A few exchanges in, the scene played smoothly enough to satisfy the emperor. His Third was back, leaner, sun-browned, steadier, and carrying an aura that hadn’t been there before.

Luo Shuyu, too, had sharpened. Far from the capital, he’d lost nothing of etiquette; his calm, considered presence put people at ease.

Compared to them, the Fourth’s household felt a touch… rough.

Just then, the Fourth Prince hurried out from the city. “Father, I heard you were meeting Third Brother, of course I had to come!”

The emperor wanted more than his own reunion; he wanted brotherly warmth, too. “Up, up,” he said approvingly.

The Fourth hesitated, thinking to embrace Mingjin. Mingjin read it and pulled him in first, tight. The Fourth’s smile flickered; Third Brother was strong. Gucheng strong. Battlefield strong.

Well, he relied on his mind, not his muscles. And in the capital, Third had no base. Besides, this return was by imperial order, not Mingjin’s choice. Nothing to fear, he told himself and smiled sunnily. “You’re finally back. Was the journey smooth?”

“Smooth enough. Rain slowed us some,” Mingjin said, more talkative than before, which took the Fourth a moment to recalibrate.

They said the right things. The emperor, satisfied with the tableau, brought Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu into the palace. Consort Mei had been waiting.

Even she couldn’t be all ice today. She had missed her son. And for once, she didn’t have to act opposite the emperor.

A welcome banquet came together in haste but with heart. Present were the emperor, Consort Mei, Consort Wei, the Fourth Prince, Shen Mingyun, and several younger royals, nearly a family dinner.

As for the Empress and the Empress Dowager: effectively exiled. Mingjin and Luo Shuyu did not ask after them. No need to puncture the carefully staged harmony.

Among everyone present, Shen Mingyun had been separated from Luo Shuyu the shortest time. Seeing him now, Luo Shuyu noted he’d rounded out even more and blinked. With a system at hand, why not exchange for a tool to handle the excess? Had beauty ceased to matter?

In the last life, Shen cared deeply about appearances. Now, with that moon-round face, he ate without a qualm, not a picky bone in him. Perhaps children and comfort had pushed “body management” off the list.

The Fourth fussed over him, piling fatty meats into his bowl and ignoring the greens. Their dynamic surprised Luo Shuyu. The Fourth either had remarkable restraint or remarkable plans. He suspected the latter.

The emperor kept the mood buoyant. Mingjin and Luo Shuyu, the evening’s focus, played their parts: cheerful here, moved there, offering a taste of Gucheng’s governance between toasts. The Fourth cooperated; Consorts Mei and Wei spoke little. The emperor, happy and tipsy, let Consort Wei see him back.

Mingjin and Luo Shuyu declined to spend the night in the palace. The Fourth and Shen Mingyun walked out with them. The princes spoke amicably in front; the consorts trailed behind, also “amicably.”

Shen Mingyun chose the worst topic. “Cousin, I’m sure Uncle and Grandmother miss you. You should visit when you have time.”

“Oh?” Luo Shuyu asked mildly. “And do you visit them often?”

He had long suspected his mother’s death touched Luo Renshou’s hands. The Fourth’s protection had spared the Luo clan in the succession struggle, but “spared” did not mean “clean.” Shen Mingyun’s blithe meddling was ignorant at best and revolting to Luo Shuyu regardless.

So he struck back where it hurt. “Cousin, you wheeze after a dozen steps and you’re drenched in sweat. Not feeling well? You were fine in Gucheng.”

Shen blinked at the hard pivot. Details were never his strength; he’d rather not hear anything about weight. Praise only, please.

“My health is excellent! It’s hot, that’s all.”

“I’m only thinking of you,” Luo Shuyu said, perfectly polite. “Longevity needs a sound body. Continuing like this isn’t wise.”

Mingyun measured himself against Luo Shuyu, nearly twice his size now, and soothed himself with memories of courtiers’ flattery.

“It’s just a little extra,” he muttered. “You’re the too-skinny one.”

“True enough,” Luo Shuyu said with a light laugh. “I’m much too thin.”

They floated on the surface of a shallow conversation until they reached the gate. The Fourth kept up the façade, and Mingjin matched it, lazy and unbothered. Only Shen Mingyun’s smile looked a shade strained.

Mingjin and Luo Shuyu boarded their carriage.

Inside his, Shen Mingyun suddenly asked, temper fraying, “Your Highness… do you also think I’m too fat?”

Since he’d filled out, the Fourth had been gentler, arguments fewer. But they’d hardly shared a bed in half a year. Every time Shen reached for him, the Fourth claimed the child was fussy and went to sleep with their son in his arms.

Only now did Shen connect the dots.

The Fourth blinked. A bit slow, isn’t he? Aloud he said smoothly, “You’re just right. You were too thin before.”

“Really? But my cousin said this can’t go on. Was he being petty?”

“Of course,” the Fourth said, passing the hot coal. “He’s jealous. Your third sister-in-law is reed-thin, who finds that attractive? Has anyone here said you’re too fat? He brings it up the day he returns, obviously ill-intentioned.”

“That’s what I thought!” Shen Mingyun said, relieved. “Who attacks someone’s figure? He’s the one who kept sending me treats in Gucheng. How else would I have become slightly plump?”

You were pregnant at the time, the Fourth thought dryly. Of course he sent nourishment.

Frankly, Shen’s size no longer bothered him. It even helped. With that silhouette, his consort would have trouble seducing anyone and only the Fourth had the patience for him. Safer for everyone.

“Tell you what,” the Fourth said kindly. “If you doubt me, host a banquet in a few days. Ask everyone, fat or not? You’ll hear for yourself.”

“That works. I’ve developed a new summer drink anyway. I can promote it.”

“As long as you’re happy,” the Fourth said. And if it made a bit of money, all the better. Distraction achieved.

---

Back at their own residence, Li Mingjin and Luo Shuyu were greeted by the ever-familiar Steward Sun, his hair now dusted with white. The household staff had been carefully kept; trustworthy faces lined up behind him.

“Welcome home, Your Highnesses!” they chorused.

Mingjin waved them off to rest. This welcome was clearly Steward Sun’s doing, but the sentiment was genuine, and it warmed him. The steward escorted them to the main courtyard, explaining that once news of their return arrived, he’d had the entire estate scrubbed top to bottom. Everything stood as they’d left it.

They sank onto their favorite small couch. Luo Shuyu traced a tiny scratch he’d once left in the side table and exhaled. “We’re really back, Your Highness.”

Mingjin nodded. “We are.”

Back and no one could send them away again.
But from here on, the dangers would only multiply.

---

Author’s Note
Third Prince: Beloved, today I’m an interstellar marshal, and you’re my fiancé from a backwater planet. We’ve never met. I crash on your world after a failed mission; you rescue me—amnesiac—and fall for my looks.
Luo Shuyu: Actually, I know you’re the marshal. While you’re amnesiac, I use your iris, fingerprints—everything—to transfer your fortune into my name, then use medical tech to make sure your memory never returns. I roam the galaxy free; you work my farm until you die, never knowing you were once rich enough to buy a star.
Third Prince: …

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