Chapter 036 The Person She Cares About Most!

Xiao Yue!

The Imperial Uncle of the little crown prince, Xiao Yue?!

Could it possibly be such a coincidence?

At that moment, the two of them were practically sitting back to back on a rickety bench...

They were already so close, yet Wu Tan didn’t even dare turn her head to look at his face for confirmation. She felt as though pricked by a needle, and with a jolt, sprang up and scurried to the side.

Just then, Mu Song too felt this man was far too close to his young mistress, with no sense of propriety at all—an excessive offense. He had already taken a step forward, but upon hearing the other call himself "this prince," his movement stalled, and he dared not act rashly.

At that moment, Wu Qinglin, having circled around, just happened to find them.

Wu Tan leaped away from Xiao Yue and, looking up to see her elder brother, felt a joy unlike any she had ever known. She dashed over, hid herself behind Wu Qinglin, and only once she was fully concealed did she cling to his robe, peeking out with half her face exposed.

Her reaction was so bizarre that even Xiao Yue was taken aback—

He wasn’t some monstrous beast; why was this girl leaping away from him as if terrified? Moreover, he was after all a prince of the realm. By all reason, even if only out of courtesy, since they had met on the street, Wu Tan should at least have offered him a greeting.

In truth, his understanding of Wu Tan was almost nonexistent. Whether in their last encounter in the previous life, or in their recent meeting at the palace, the girl had always been composed and steady. Her sudden flightiness now left him unprepared.

Xiao Yue frowned, regarding her.

At the same time, Wu Qinglin's brows were deeply furrowed, his gaze somewhat hostile as he stared at Xiao Yue, who sat at the battered table.

"What’s going on?" he asked Mu Song in a low voice.

"Young master—" Mu Song stepped forward, just about to reply with a bow, but Wu Tan was already tugging at him, urging impatiently, "Big brother, let’s go. You’ve been gone so long just to buy a candied hawthorn."

Wu Qinglin glanced down at her, finding her overly attentive tone suspicious.

Without giving him a chance to argue, Wu Tan pulled at his sleeve, dragging him toward the main street. "Come on!"

Wu Qinglin, unable to resist, followed along, but after a few steps, couldn’t help glancing back at Xiao Yue—

This man exuded an extraordinary aura; he was no ordinary figure. Even having only met once, Wu Qinglin found him striking. He was familiar with all the influential circles in the capital, yet had never laid eyes on this man before.

Mu Song opened his mouth, but said nothing. He too, heart still pounding, glanced back at Xiao Yue, wiping sweat from his brow as he hurried after them—

This gentleman had called himself "this prince." There was no precedent in the current dynasty for enfeoffing princes of different surnames; clearly, this man was of the imperial family. His second young mistress had first startled him, then left without so much as a greeting—was that wise?

Wu Tan, however, never looked back.

From her retreating figure, Xiao Yue felt she slipped away with remarkable composure.

The man at her side was carrying a boy of about two or three years old. The little boy, holding a half-eaten candied hawthorn, offered it up to her, saying in a sweet childish voice, "Second sister, have some!"

Wu Tan turned away. "It’s all your saliva—I won’t eat it!"

"It’s not dirty!" the boy protested, even louder.

"I’m disgusted by you!" Wu Tan showed no gratitude at all.

...

Their bickering faded as their group melted into the crowd, voices blending into the city’s bustle until nothing could be heard.

Because Xiao Yue’s gaze lingered in that direction, Lei Ming, sensing his meaning, stepped up behind him to explain, "That is Wu Qinglin, heir to the Marquis of Dingyuan."

"Wu Qinglin?" Xiao Yue mused, frowning slightly.

Lei Ming, unsure of the reason for his interest, went on, "He and the second young lady of the Wu family are both children of the marquis’s first wife, Lady Lin, who is the daughter of Old Chancellor Lin. Being the legitimate eldest son, he was granted the title of heir at his coming-of-age ceremony at fifteen. If I recall correctly, Wu Qinglin should be nineteen this year, not reaching full majority until next year."

No wonder Wu Tan was so close to him. In their handful of encounters, Xiao Yue had always found the girl peculiar; now that he thought of it, she seemed perpetually reserved and guarded with everyone—except, when reunited with Wu Qinglin, her entire demeanor, from eyes to movements, softened and relaxed completely...

So, this was the one she cared about most!

"The marquis’s eldest son..." Xiao Yue repeated thoughtfully, his tone playful.

In his previous life, he’d had little interest in the affairs of the Marquis of Dingyuan. He’d always thought the heir was the second son, Wu Qingyu. Only after Wu Tan’s death, when he looked more closely into the Wu family, did he learn that Wu Xun had an elder son, born of the same mother as Wu Tan.

This eldest son, Wu Qinglin, had indeed been officially granted the title of heir. He was still alive when Wu Tan married Xiao Yun.

It was in the second year after Wu Tan’s marriage, when Emperor Xiao Zhi passed and Xiao Yun ascended the throne, that Wu Qinglin died in battle on the southern frontier, and the title of heir passed to the second son, Wu Qingyu.

After Wu Qinglin’s death, the old madam of the Wu family, who had adored her eldest grandson, was struck down by grief and illness, and passed away a few months later.

Lost in thought, Xiao Yue was abruptly interrupted as the old Taoist sitting across from him, seeing his distraction, tried to sneak away. He had barely made it two steps before Lei Ming darted over, grabbed him by the collar, and flung him back. "Where do you think you’re going, Taoist? Leaving your meal behind?"

Lei Ming’s grip was so strong that the old Taoist nearly choked, and stumbled right into the battered table, clutching his neck and coughing, his face flushed scarlet.

Xiao Yue came to himself, glanced coldly aside, and tapped his fingers slowly on the table.

Seeing there was no escape, the old Taoist forced a smile and, about to curry favor, began, "Your Highness, Prince Sheng..."

"It’s rare you managed to recognize me," Xiao Yue cut him off bluntly.

"Well..." The old Taoist fidgeted, wringing his sleeves like a bashful daughter-in-law. But Xiao Yue had already brushed off his robes and risen, raising an eyebrow. "I’ve searched for you all over the capital. So? Will you come with me to my residence for a chat, or would you rather I visit yours?"

The old Taoist's face turned ashen. "Neither seems... very appropriate!"

Xiao Yue sneered. "Then let’s find somewhere nearby to talk!"

The emperor already mistrusted him; there were spies set to watch him inside and outside the Fragrant Pavilion. Though he hadn’t scaled any walls this time, he had used tricks along the way to shake off his tail. If he took this old trickster home, the emperor would surely suspect his motives.

Clearly, this old Taoist didn’t want Xiao Yue knowing his whereabouts either.

With no way out, the old Taoist resigned himself to following Xiao Yue, but not before sweeping both the large and small gold ingots from the table into his sleeve.

Xiao Yue didn’t go far.

There was a theater on this street. He slipped in through the back door, headed straight for a private box reserved on the second floor, left Lei Ming outside to stand guard, and brought the old Taoist in, closing the door behind them.

The private box was comfortably and cleanly arranged, a round table in the center laden with fruit and pastries.

Upon entering, the old Taoist made straight for the sunflower seeds and began to munch.

Expressionless, Xiao Yue sat across from him, rolled up his sleeve, and placed his left hand palm-up on the table.

He really had come to have his fortune told.

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