Little Pink Starfish

The Prince Consort Who Remembers Nothing

Yu Xiaoxiao applauded Nanny Wang—yes, being disgusted with Yongsheng Temple was the right attitude!

First Boss said admiringly, “Nanny, you’re a wise one.”

Nanny Wang glanced at him and replied, “I may not worship Yongsheng Temple, but I still believe in the Buddha. The Buddha is merciful—those people from Yongsheng Temple will face divine punishment!”

First Boss gave a dry laugh. Wasn’t that exactly what had happened to Bodhi Temple?

The old Taoist walked outside the cave and looked up at the snow-laden sky, obscuring moon and stars. With the Seven Killings star now manifest, Mo Wen only needed to observe the celestial signs to realize what had happened. Sending Jiang Zhuojun to Yongsheng Temple may have been a smokescreen by Jingshi to cover his own incompetence, but it wouldn’t fool Mo Wen for long.

Xiao Zhuang and Xiao Wei carefully bathed Gu Xinglang, changed him into clean clothes, and carried him back to lie near the fire.

Nanny Wang kept eyeing Gu Xinglang’s head. He’d supposedly hit it, but she couldn’t see a visible wound. Was it hidden under his hair?

Yu Xiaoxiao handed a warm bun to Xiao Wei. “Here. Eat.”

At that moment, Miss Qian walked over and glanced at Gu Xinglang. “Is the Prince Consort really okay?” she asked. Even with two attendants fussing over him, this man hadn’t stirred—how could that be?

“He’s fine,” Yu Xiaoxiao replied listlessly.

Miss Qian then turned to Xiao Zhuang. “Is Xiong Da still with you?”

“He’s with you, isn’t he?” Xiao Zhuang said.

Miss Qian asked suddenly, “Do you know bookkeeping?”

“What?” Xiao Zhuang stared at her, dumbfounded. Was something wrong with her head? At a time like this, she was asking about accounting?

“Well, do you?” Miss Qian insisted.

“I can count money. Does that count?” Xiao Zhuang said.

“Idiot,” Miss Qian snapped before walking away.

Xiao Zhuang turned to Yu Xiaoxiao. “What did she mean?”

Yu Xiaoxiao shook her head. She didn’t know what bookkeeping had to do with Xiao Zhuang either.

But Nanny Wang understood. No matter how much a girl insisted otherwise, once she liked a man, she wouldn’t easily forget him. Whether she admitted it or not didn’t change that.

Meanwhile, the Jiang clan had dug four deep graves in the frozen earth and laid their last direct heirs to rest.

“White snow everywhere,” Jiang Zhuojun murmured as he looked over the icy world. “At least they lie in a clean place.”

Third Uncle added a handful of soil to the small mounds. “Zhuojun, are you going with Princess Linglong and Prince Consort to Chiyang City?”

Jiang Zhuojun nodded.

“You trust them?” the elder asked.

“Even if they have ulterior motives, I’ve only my life left to lose,” Jiang Zhuojun answered.

The old man looked at him—aged even more in a single night. His clouded eyes held no tears, but deep sorrow.

“I trust Princess Linglong,” Jiang Zhuojun said firmly. “She and Gu Xinglang are not deceitful people.”

“Very well,” Third Uncle said. “You’ll take the young ones to Chiyang. I’ll take the elderly and children elsewhere to lay low.”

Jiang Zhuojun protested, “Uncle, that’s not right—”

“We’d only be a burden,” the old man said, raising a hand. “Don’t worry. This old man still knows how to stay hidden.”

“I still worry,” Jiang Zhuojun replied.

“If the Fourth Prince is alive, the Jiang clan can still rise again,” the elder said in a voice meant for all. “Our future rests with you now. Go to Chiyang. Don’t worry about us.”

The women of the clan cried anew. Without the protection of the younger generation, their futures would be harsh. But the elder’s words were final. None dared refute him.

He looked at Jiang Yueniang holding her son. “Take your sister and nephew with you.”

Yueniang hurried forward. “Uncle, let me stay—”

“It’s settled,” the old man cut her off. “If you still respect me as Third Uncle, don’t say another word.”

Another elder added, “Let Yueniang and Xiaobao go. They’re his sister and nephew. Of course he’ll look out for them.”

It was a kindness—a human gesture—to gift Jiang Zhuojun this responsibility, this tie of family.

Jiang Zhuojun met Third Uncle’s gaze. Some things didn’t need to be said aloud. They understood each other. Staring at the four small graves before him, Jiang Zhuojun fell silent.

At that moment, Gu Xinglang stirred awake. Seeing Yu Xiaoxiao at his side, he blinked, confused.

“You don’t remember anything again?” she asked softly.

Xiao Wei nudged Nanny Wang. “Let them talk.”

Nanny Wang, seeing Gu Xinglang awake and looking well, said nothing and left with Xiao Wei.

Gu Xinglang glanced around. “We’re back? When?”

Instead of answering, Yu Xiaoxiao offered him a bowl of warm water and fed it to him herself.

After drinking, Gu Xinglang suddenly recalled the monsters he’d seen in the stone chamber and tried to sit up—only to find he had no strength.

“Are you hungry?” Yu Xiaoxiao asked.

“Xiaoxiao… where’s Xiao Wei?” he asked instead.

“They’re fine,” she sighed. Xiao Wei had been sitting beside them—he hadn’t noticed?

“Bodhi Temple?” Gu Xinglang asked.

“Oh, a lightning strike burned it down. Jingshi died of fright,” Yu Xiaoxiao said casually. “Xiao Gu, do you remember who saved you?”

Someone saved me?

Gu Xinglang frowned, his head aching.

Xiao Wei brought a large bowl of hot porridge. “Prince Consort, do you feel any discomfort?”

“I… I just feel weak,” Gu Xinglang said.

Xiao Wei glanced at Yu Xiaoxiao—same symptoms as before: total exhaustion after fainting. “The drugged ones in the stone chamber were all killed,” he added.

Gu Xinglang blinked. “Drugged ones? What drugged ones?”

“Jingshi said,” Yu Xiaoxiao fed him a spoonful of porridge, “those monsters were drugged humans—made by Yongsheng Temple.”

“Turning people into monsters through drugs?!” Gu Xinglang was horrified.

“Which is why we’re going to destroy Yongsheng Temple,” Yu Xiaoxiao said. “Don’t you remember anything? Did you kill any of them?”

Gu Xinglang still looked lost. Had he really killed any drugged people?