EHW Ch10

The middle-aged tutor stared at Pei Xin in horror.

Pei Xin: “……”

He’d been so focused on mocking Gu Fangzhi that he’d forgotten how ridiculous he must have looked, suddenly springing up from his seat for no reason.

For the first time, Pei Xin actually wished Gu Fangzhi would be sensible for once and use his sorcery to rewind time again.

Unfortunately, Gu Fangzhi didn’t seem to hear his silent plea.

Pei Xin let out another dry little laugh.

The tutor: “……?”

“It’s nothing,” Pei Xin said stiffly. “I just thought of something amusing.”

Then, face returning to its usual cold blankness, he sat back down. “Continue.”

Outside the Imperial Study, several attendants had been observing, reporting Pei Xin’s every movement to the Right Chancellor and the other waiting ministers.

The officials listened, smiling in relief, though they couldn’t quite make sense of it.

“Why did His Majesty suddenly stand up and sit down again?”

“Why did His Majesty suddenly laugh?”

“Did he recall something entertaining?”

They puzzled over it for a while, then settled on a flattering conclusion:
“He must have been moved by a particularly inspiring passage.”

Inside, Pei Xin’s nose itched.

Two hours later, the lesson ended.

By then, Gu Fangzhi was so hungry his stomach felt glued to his spine.

Clutching his belly, he started toward the door, mentally resolving to bring snacks tomorrow and eat them before Pei Xin arrived.

But Pei Xin spoke up: “It’s late. Neither of you have eaten yet, why not stay and share a meal?”

Gu Fangzhi was touched.

Leaving guests for dinner didn’t necessarily make a good ruler, but a good ruler would always be one to invite people to dinner.

The tutor, however, paled. With Pei Xin’s infamous temper, he feared the “meal” might be a euphemism for a last supper.

Pei Xin’s reasoning, in truth, was simple.

Even on the battlefield, captured soldiers were fed before being sent to die.

He could at least extend this small gesture of goodwill, it cost nothing and was a convenient way to win loyalty.

Although, when he thought about it more carefully…

Strictly speaking, he might be the one held hostage by Gu Fangzhi right now.

Pei Xin: “……”

Soon, palace maids laid out dinner in the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

Pei Xin sat at the head, while Gu Fangzhi and the tutor sat side by side below him.

The meal was a pot dish, a warm stew of meat and vegetables, the sort Pei Xin had often eaten while stationed at the frontier.

When the pot was brought out, Gu Fangzhi’s eyes lit up, it was basically a personal hotpot!

Seeing the faint smile of delight on Gu Fangzhi’s lips, Pei Xin’s mouth twitched upward too.

He picked out a piece of venison, tender and glistening with rich broth, its fragrance rising in clouds of steam.

Pei Xin lifted it to his mouth.

Just as his teeth were about to sink in, Gu Fangzhi suddenly yelped from below, “Hot! Hot! Hot!”

Darkness flashed before Pei Xin’s eyes, the meat vanished from his mouth, leaving him chewing air.

Pei Xin: “……”

Getting scalded was natural.

Though furious, Pei Xin chose to forgive him.

He picked up the venison again and brought it to his lips, 

“Ah, wait, why’s this piece still raw?” came Gu Fangzhi’s voice again.

Pei Xin bit into air a second time.

Pei Xin: “…………”

So it was true, food could be right in front of you, yet you could still starve to death.

He’d had enough.

***

In the following days, Gu Fangzhi settled into a routine: rising early for court, then serving as Pei Xin’s study companion afterward.

Once the emperor’s lessons were done, if time allowed, he’d head to the Ministry of Rites to help with work.

After returning home, he often had to entertain officials eager to win his favor.

It was exhausting, but his life in the imperial era was finally finding its rhythm.

Aside from occasionally oversleeping, his need to reload saves had dropped sharply.

The only regret was that he still hadn’t had time to explore the capital.

Then again, it wasn’t so different from modern life.

He had seniors who’d gone off to big cities for work, ask them about sightseeing, and they’d say they’d never been anywhere; ask them about bike-share locations near subway stations, and they’d list them all by heart.

That night marked the first imperial banquet since Pei Xin’s ascension.

Envoys from neighboring vassal states had arrived bearing gifts, and Pei Xin hosted a grand feast in their honor.

The vast palace was ablaze with lanterns, lighting the night sky of the capital as bright as day.

After the officials and nobles had waited a while, Pei Xin finally appeared, ascending the high dais.

Gu Fangzhi joined the chorus of voices proclaiming long life to the emperor.

Pei Xin said, “All beloved subjects, you may rise…”

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the hall.

It had become a habit, wherever he went, his eyes would first search for Gu Fangzhi among the crowd.

A moment later, he found him.

By now, Pei Xin had begun to understand the basic pattern behind Gu Fangzhi’s magic.

Aside from rewinding time whenever Pei Xin was about to kill someone, or to force him to listen properly during lessons, Gu Fangzhi often used his witchcraft… on himself.

For example, when Gu Fangzhi tripped while walking, tasted something awful, or accidentally said the wrong thing or did something stupid.

Whenever that happened, Pei Xin had learned to just stand perfectly still.

He didn’t bother struggling or trying to fix it, he simply waited, letting Gu Fangzhi finish his sorcery before continuing whatever he’d been doing.

Of course, sometimes his judgment was off, and he’d freeze up at random moments, leaving the servants nearby staring at him in silent horror.

Whenever that happened, Pei Xin would glare back at them with disdain.

Ignorant fools. Pathetic.

At this moment, all the officials were still kneeling.

Gu Fangzhi’s figure swayed twice in the corner.

Hmm… he’d probably knelt on the hem of his own robe and lost balance a bit.

So he’d made a mistake, meaning he was about to use his magic again.

Certain of this based on extensive personal experience, Pei Xin calmly repeated the words he hadn’t finished earlier:

“Rise, my loyal subjects.”

But Pei Xin had miscalculated.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t reload this time.

His reasoning was simple —

He’d forgotten to save.

If he reloaded, he’d have to start all the way back from when he was still sitting in the carriage.
Too much trouble.

Besides, with the crowd packed into the hall like a pop concert, who would even notice?

He was a minor official kneeling in the far corner, half-blocked by the guy in front of him.
There was no way Pei Xin could have seen him wobble.

The next second, Pei Xin’s voice rang out:
“Rise, my loyal loyal loyal loyal subjects—”

Gu Fangzhi: “?”

Everyone else: “……?”

What was that?
Did the emperor just… stutter?
Was he nervous? Forget his line?

Up on the dais, Pei Xin: “……”

‘Gu Fangzhi, where the hell is your sorcery now?!’

Why, of all times, did you choose now to stop using it?!

He shut his eyes and seriously contemplated death.

But death could wait. Humiliation could not.

With a face like carved ice, Pei Xin shot Gu Fangzhi a withering glare, then sat back on the golden throne.

Thankfully, no one dared say a word.

The ceremony continued, a court official stepped forward to recite the greeting speech, followed by the gift presentation from the visiting envoys.

Though their nations were small, the gifts were lavish: red coral, white peacocks, exotic fabrics, gold armor, pearls as big as fists.

Gu Fangzhi had seen all these in museums before, dull and faded by time.

He couldn’t help murmuring, “Yeah… definitely better-looking before they spent a few thousand years underground.”

Song Jingzhou beside him blinked. “……?”

Gu Fangzhi waved a hand and asked, “You hungry?”

Song Jingzhou laughed quietly. “Brother Gu, are you hungry?”

 

He pointed at the silver jug before Gu Fangzhi. “The dishes won’t be served for a while yet. Try some grape wine first to tide you over.”

“Sure.”

Gu Fangzhi poured himself a cup. The rich, sweet scent of grapes rose up instantly.

He took a sip, and his eyes lit up.

As expected, imperial goods were the best.

Though called “grape wine,” it tasted more like chilled fruit juice, sweet, refreshing, perfectly balanced.

“Good, isn’t it?” said Song Jingzhou. “I heard there’ll be crocodile soup tonight, it’s meant to go perfectly with that wine.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Crocodile soup??

He shivered.

He might not stomach crocodile, but this wine was divine.

After the envoys finished presenting their gifts, musicians began to play; some foreign guests performed, and dancers took the stage.

Palace servants carried out trays of delicacies one after another:
meltingly tender lamb heart, translucent crystal dumplings, slow-boiled shredded chicken congee, fragrant pastries.

Everything from the imperial kitchen was exceptional, and Gu Fangzhi didn’t stop eating once.

Paired with the crisp wine, he was genuinely happy.

The cheerful music made him feel light-headed. He chatted lazily with Song Jingzhou:
“Did you know there’s no Santa Claus in this world?”

“Santa Claus?” Song Jingzhou asked. “Who might that be?”

Gu Fangzhi thought for a moment. “Uh… Chang’e. Anyway, did you know there’s actually no Chang’e on the moon either?”

Song Jingzhou burst out laughing. “Brother Gu, are you drunk?”

“Drunk? Me?”

Gu Fangzhi felt his light, dizzy head and concluded seriously: “Actually, yes.”

He stood up. “I’m going to the restroom. Need some air.”

“Alright,” said Song Jingzhou. “Don’t take too long, they’ll serve the crocodile soup soon. I heard it’s excellent.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Yeah, maybe he’d rather be eaten by the crocodile.

Waving a hand, he left the banquet.

After relieving himself, he found a quiet spot by the wall to lean against and enjoy the night breeze.

The wind was cool, but drowsiness crept in, the wine was hitting him.

On instinct, he saved, reloaded, saved again, reloaded again.

Back at the banquet, Pei Xin was in mid-speech, greeting the foreign envoys:

“Go-go-go back and tell-tell your-your king-king-king, the-noble-noble-noble-houses of Zhou City—”

Pei Xin: “……”

He was lagging. Literally stuttering like a broken puppet.

What the hell was Gu Fangzhi doing now?!

The good mood he’d had all evening evaporated. His expression turned frosty again.

He looked toward Gu Fangzhi’s seat, empty.

Where was he?

Pei Xin crooked a finger and ordered,

“Go-go-go see where-where-where Gu-Gu Fangzhi is.”

Yang Luhai stuttered obediently, shuffled off, then shuffled back.

“Gu-Gu-Master Gu drank too-too-too much wine. He’s resting by the pavilion.”

Hmm?

Gu Fangzhi… drunk?

Pei Xin propped his chin on one hand, exchanged a few more polite lines with the envoy, then suddenly stood.

He said to Yang Luhai, “Have Gu Fangzhi wait for me in the study.”

As the servant left to carry out the order, Pei Xin’s gaze deepened.

Sweet wine could easily turn into poison.

“Drunken words are honest words,” as the saying went, he’d seen plenty of soldiers blurt out secrets after too much to drink on campaign.

Perhaps he could pry something useful out of Gu Fangzhi tonight.

After waiting a while, Pei Xin rose and left the banquet.

Gu Fangzhi was already waiting in the study.

Pei Xin hadn’t ordered anyone to bring him a chair, so no one dared. Gu Fangzhi was half-slumped against the wall, boneless.

He turned his head at the sound of footsteps and saw Pei Xin.

Pei Xin brushed aside the beaded curtain and told the attendants to wait outside, then turned back, squinting at Gu Fangzhi.

Gu Fangzhi’s complexion was pale as ever, his frame slim and delicate. His usual smile hid all emotion, an unreadable man of glass and snow.

But now, faint red bloomed on his cheeks, and his clear peach-blossom eyes shimmered with intoxication.

The small mole on his cheek had deepened into a shade like rouge.

Upon seeing Pei Xin, Gu Fangzhi instinctively tried to bow.

His knees bent, and his forehead hit the floor hard, a faint line of blood spreading from where skin met polished stone.

Pei Xin: “……”

[Congratulations, Player, you’ve unlocked the Bad Ending: “Bro’s Skull Really Is Iron.”]

Groggy, Gu Fangzhi reloaded.

Once again, Pei Xin watched him start to make the same disastrous bow, this time, he reached out on reflex and caught him.

Gu Fangzhi was light, almost weightless in his grasp.

Pei Xin’s hand slid to the man’s forearm; he dragged him a few steps, deposited him by the table, and dropped him onto a chair.

“Sit properly.”

Gu Fangzhi, still dazed, mumbled, “Much obliged, Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin grunted, seating himself across from him.

The table was set with wine.

Pei Xin poured a cup and handed it to Gu Fangzhi.

“Thank you,” Gu Fangzhi said. “But I’m not hungry.”

Pei Xin: “……”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t withdraw his hand. Instead, he pushed the cup closer, until it touched Gu Fangzhi’s lips.

Tilting his wrist, he poured.

Half the wine slid into Gu Fangzhi’s mouth; the rest trickled down his chin.

Gu Fangzhi lifted a hand to wipe his face.

Pei Xin set the cup down, twirling it idly between his fingers.
“Has my teacher ever studied the arts of immortals or witchcraft?” he asked.

“Nope. I grew up under the red flag, we don’t mess with that stuff,” said Gu Fangzhi.

Pei Xin: “……”

What… does that even mean?

“Then let me ask differently,” Pei Xin said patiently. “Has my teacher mastered the power of the immortals?”

Gu Fangzhi looked utterly sincere, blinking in disbelief.

“How could I? If I knew magic, would I still be here?”

Then his expression changed, he rubbed his temple and added woozily,

“Wait, Your Majesty… you’re not planning to pursue immortality like those other emperors, are you? Don’t mess with that stuff… heavy metals… poisoning… you’ll exceed the safety limits…”

Pei Xin: “……”

What on earth is this man talking about?

His tone wasn’t feigned stupidity, he genuinely seemed unaware of what Pei Xin meant.

So Pei Xin decided to be more direct.
“The power of backtracking,” he said clearly.

Meeting Gu Fangzhi’s hazy gaze, Pei Xin raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Uh…” Gu Fangzhi thought for a long time, then cautiously answered,

“If I remember correctly… it’s called the Power of Backtracking.”

Pei Xin: “……”

His temples throbbed.

Reaching out, he grabbed Gu Fangzhi’s chin, teeth clenched.
“Are you mocking me?”

Gu Fangzhi muttered, “That hurts.”

His voice was calm, expression barely changing, only his brows drew together slightly.

A faint red mark bloomed beneath Pei Xin’s fingers.

Pei Xin clicked his tongue. He barely touched him, how could a grown man’s skin be this delicate?

Annoyed, he was about to speak again when darkness flashed before his eyes.

In the next moment, Pei Xin found himself standing once more at the doorway.

Before him, Gu Fangzhi’s knees bent, his head about to meet the floor again in that same catastrophic bow.

Pei Xin moved on reflex, catching him mid-fall.

Pei Xin: “……”

Great. 

This time, I’ve officially become his dad.