Chapter 12: A Loving and United Family
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Li Jinglong was awakened the next day by his summoned subordinate. Staring at the now deserted brothel, he felt utterly terrified. How could I, such a great prince, be left like this?
“Hurry, prepare the horses. I must enter the palace to see the emperor.”
Seeing the confusion on his subordinate’s face, he drew his waist sword, bit his lip until it bled, and whispered, “The prince has been abducted.”
Upon hearing this, the imperial guards in fine attire turned pale with shock.
Zhu Zhuo felt a cold chill run down his neck, an uneasy sensation.
He awoke to find himself tightly bound with hemp ropes in a galloping carriage. A sharp Mongolian curved saber rested against his neck, as sharp as freshly fallen snow.
As an experienced man, cautious enough not to have eaten or drunk water, he never expected to be ambushed like this.
He complained, “Miss Hongqiao, you show no honor in martial conduct, putting poison in my lipstick.”
Zhang Hongqiao’s delicate brows shot upward as she scolded, “You false Ming Zhu thief, silenced! Traitorous rebel, I’d sooner feast on your blood and flesh.”
Zhu Zhuo suddenly understood—someone who curses like that naturally isn’t a Zhang or Chen remnant; after all, all of them are thieves.
He looked at Zhang Hongqiao, her hair tied high in a manner reminiscent of a modern high ponytail, clad in tight black warrior attire.
“You little thief, what are you staring at?”
“I never expected you to be so striking in women’s clothing, and quite dashing in men’s attire.”
The curved blade pressed right against his nose, silencing his flowery tongue immediately.
“You lecherous scoundrel, one more lewd look and I’ll gouge out your eyeballs.”
After a moment, Zhu Zhuo stuck out his tongue, licking the saber’s tip with satisfaction.
This sight gave Zhang Hongqiao goosebumps; she immediately decided the blade was better discarded and threw it aside.
Her complexion cold, she lifted her foot to kick Zhu Zhuo in the belly.
But Zhu Zhuo closed his eyes, enjoying the moment, and said, “I have only one request: could you please take off your shoes?”
Zhang Hongqiao recoiled as if she’d seen the filthiest thing in the world, curling her foot away to the far end of the carriage.
Outside the carriage, Wu Mama, dressed in Yuan dynasty attire, was driving the horses, speaking in Mongolian, “Princess, we’re fifty li from Kaifeng.”
“Are you people from Aru Wentai’s clan?”
Just as Zhang Hongqiao was about to speak, the man in front of her startled her with a perfect Tongliao accent.
Seeing the dazed animal before him, Zhu Zhuo was immensely proud. Having grown up in Tongliao in a previous life, with grandparents who were Mongolian and attending the Nadam festival annually to watch horse racing and archery, how could he not speak a few phrases in Mongolian?
“You probably aren’t Zhang Hongqiao. Which number child of Aru Wentai are you?”
He wriggled like a caterpillar to the side, grabbed the other’s water pouch, bit off the cap, and gulped it down.
Besides having a good father, guess whyI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.