EHW Ch13

Gu Huaiyu’s room was in the same direction as Gu Fangzhi’s.

The four brothers’ rooms were all close to each other, an arrangement deliberately made by Gu Yunchuan to make it easier for them to visit one another and strengthen their bond.

Walking side by side with Gu Huaiyu, Gu Fangzhi noticed for the first time that the other man seemed to be a bit taller than him.

Under the moonlight, Gu Huaiyu tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on Gu Fangzhi.

His eyes were narrower than Gu Fangzhi’s, with a faint upward slant at the corners, like those of a keen, watchful beast.

Feeling uncomfortable under that stare, Gu Fangzhi asked, “What is it?”

Gu Huaiyu said, “You just seem… different somehow.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He wasn’t wrong.

To play it safe and not reveal anything, Gu Fangzhi replied calmly, “Maybe half different.”

Gu Huaiyu’s eyes curved with amusement.

“That’s good,” he said. “You’re much more pleasant to look at like this than that petty version of you before. I’ll take you out for a drink sometime.”

Gu Fangzhi said, “All right.”

They chatted idly for a bit as they passed by Gu Yunchuan’s room.

Through the paper window, they could see that the lamp inside was already out, perhaps due to his military background, Gu Yunchuan kept a strict routine. Many times when Gu Fangzhi returned home late, his eldest brother was already asleep, though he still made sure someone kept Gu Fangzhi’s dinner warm.

Gu Fangzhi instinctively lowered his voice as they passed, but then the door creaked open from inside.

Startled, he looked up and saw Gu Yunchuan standing there, a coat draped loosely over his shoulders. His right sleeve hung empty and swayed slightly as he moved.

Seeing the two of them, Gu Yunchuan asked, “Have you eaten?”

Gu Huaiyu smiled faintly. “Eldest Brother is always so busy, no need to worry. Missing a meal or two won’t kill us.”

Gu Yunchuan frowned. “Rest early.”

Gu Huaiyu raised an eyebrow and replied, “No need for Brother to worry.”

Gu Fangzhi had long noticed the tension between the two, but this was the first time he’d seen them on the verge of an actual argument.

He quickly interjected, “We were just about to sleep. Eldest Brother, you should rest early too.”

Gu Yunchuan gave a low hum of acknowledgment.

Gu Fangzhi grasped Gu Huaiyu’s arm and dragged him away before things could escalate.

After walking some distance, he glanced back and saw Gu Yunchuan still standing there, watching them leave.

“Hmph.” Gu Huaiyu jerked his arm out of Gu Fangzhi’s grasp. “I just finished saying something nice about you, and now you’re siding with someone else.”

Gu Fangzhi asked, “You… you don’t like Eldest Brother?”

He asked cautiously, saving a file in his mind, just in case this was a sensitive topic that might set Gu Huaiyu off and turn the corridor into a real-life boss chase scene.

Fortunately, Gu Huaiyu only snorted and shrugged. “Aside from Manman and my mother, I don’t like anyone.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

‘A full-blown brother complex, huh.’

The next day, after reloading twice and finally managing a few hours of sleep, Gu Fangzhi woke up and went to morning court.

The moment he arrived outside the Hall of Supreme Harmony, he sensed something was different from usual.

He found the Ministry of Rites officials, spotted Song Jingzhou, and smoothly blended into the group that was chatting nearby.

He asked Song Jingzhou, “Let’s see if you can tell me what’s going on.”

Song Jingzhou gave him a sunny smile. “Has my wise brother heard of the Marquis of Zhenbei, General Qin Xuan, the young General Qin?”

Qin Xuan?

Of course Gu Fangzhi knew him.

‘Because Qin Xuan was famous.’

In the game Founding Emperor, the protagonist was entirely career-driven and had no official love interest, but that hadn’t stopped players from creating their own ships.

Male players loved pairing the protagonist with the princess of his homeland, straightforward, passionate, clear in love and hate.

Female players, on the other hand, adored Qin Xuan.

The young general, only twenty-four, had an impressive win record on the battlefield, handsome, gallant, charming. Though he stood on the opposite side of the protagonist, he had once tended to the hero’s wounds, checking every box for a perfect golden boy character.

“I know him,” Gu Fangzhi admitted, a bit sheepishly. “I may have… borrowed some of his rations once.”

Song Jingzhou: “?”

Blinking in confusion, Song Jingzhou went on. “General Qin returned to the capital today.”

He gestured toward the front of the hall. “There, see? Not sure what brought him back this time, though.”

Following his direction, Gu Fangzhi saw a tall man clad in silver armor surrounded by officials.

The man’s posture was straight as a blade, his presence commanding.

Looking at Qin Xuan’s back, Gu Fangzhi thought of Pei Xin, and also of Gu Yunchuan.

Both had been soldiers.

Several strategists had returned to the capital alongside Qin Xuan, their temples silvered but their eyes sharp and clear, men aged anywhere from their twenties to their sixties, all seasoned veterans.

Clearly, too many years of “service mode.”

Everyone was speculating about why Qin Xuan had returned so suddenly. But Gu Fangzhi already had a hunch.

And his hunch was confirmed during the imperial court session, 

“The Cangsheng Sect.”

Though Qin Xuan was a decorated war hero, the temperamental Pei Xin demanded that all who entered the throne hall remove their armor. He had changed into a red general’s robe instead, yet even from behind, he exuded a powerful, disciplined aura.

Qin Xuan said, “Your Majesty, I believe it would be unwise to annihilate the Cangsheng Sect at this time.”

In the game’s lore, the Cangsheng Sect was a newly risen grassroots organization.

Born in an era of war and famine, it had gained a massive following by advocating for a world where every person could eat their fill. Over time, it grew into an influential force across multiple nations.

But in recent years, after a change in leadership, the sect had begun to twist in nature.

Followers eagerly offered up their savings and food, boasting that their leader possessed divine powers and could do anything.

Pei Xin, noticing this dangerous shift, ordered the sect’s total eradication. Qin Xuan, however, was wary of its influence among the people and feared that such drastic action would cause chaos.

Moreover, it would disperse the army’s strength.

“Then when does General Qin propose we act?” Pei Xin sneered. “When they’ve finished training their soldiers? When their leader crowns himself emperor? Or when they march here and cut me down on my own throne?”

His tone wasn’t loud, but his fury was unmistakable.

The ministers, terrified of touching his reverse scale, all dropped to their knees in unison, by now, an instinctive reflex.

Qin Xuan also knelt but continued, “The Cangsheng Sect is vast and its followers many. If we truly seek to wipe them out, I fear- ”

Pei Xin clicked his tongue sharply.

He loathed hesitation. The sect’s behavior was clearly suspicious, and yet they wanted to drag things out.

His sneer didn’t fade. “Fear? What good is fear? They may have numbers, but don’t you have mouths? Isn’t reputation shaped by what people say?”

He’d practically spoon-fed them the logic, but the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. “I’ll give you a month. If you can’t handle it by then, don’t blame me when your head-”

The word ‘falls’ caught in his throat.

He lifted his gaze toward the corner, where a certain figure in blue stood silently.

Gu Fangzhi’s method of turning him into a “wise ruler” was simple and brutal: never let him kill anyone.

Every time Pei Xin mentioned execution, Gu Fangzhi would cast witchcraft, rewinding time over and over until he gave up.

Sometimes, he couldn’t even threaten anyone.

Pei Xin instinctively thought Gu Fangzhi would do it again this time. The moment the thought crossed his mind, his frustration surged even higher.

Sure, his words were harsh, but the Cangsheng Sect truly had to be purged.

If Gu Fangzhi dared to plead on Qin Xuan’s behalf…

Pei Xin ground his teeth, his irritation reaching its peak.

But as the moments passed, Gu Fangzhi still didn’t use his time-reversal.

Pei Xin: “……”

Wait.

Did that mean… Gu Fangzhi agreed with him this time?

How rare.

The corners of Pei Xin’s eyes lifted slightly. He glanced again toward the quiet figure in blue standing in the corner, and his lips curved faintly upward.

“Rise.” Pei Xin said to the officials. “If you all keep kneeling, people will think I’m bullying you.”

The court officials, trembling with relief, rose to their feet.

Pei Xin tapped his fingers twice against the armrest of the dragon throne and, displaying both favor and authority, rewarded Qin Xuan generously for his military achievements and his success defending the northern border.

Qin Xuan kowtowed and accepted the imperial reward.

Afterward, other ministers stepped forward one by one to present their memorials, small, tedious matters that Pei Xin found dull. Resting his cheek on one hand, he responded perfunctorily.

When it seemed that all affairs had been settled, he lifted his hand, intending to signal the court to dismiss, only for Grand Preceptor Sun to shuffle forward, trembling as he bowed.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “this old minister has something to report, though I am uncertain whether I should speak.”

Seventy-three years old and impossibly long-winded, Grand Preceptor Sun was the sort of man whose very presence made Pei Xin’s teeth ache.

Still, the old man was a hereditary official who had served since the founding emperor’s era, outliving two monarchs, and was considered a national treasure of sorts. Pei Xin endured him with a sliver of patience.

“Speak,” Pei Xin said.

“Your Majesty, it is time to summon young ladies to the palace,” said Grand Preceptor Sun.

Pei Xin: “……”

He had two elder brothers, one who’d taken a concubine at thirteen, and another who’d married by sixteen. Even the late emperor had maintained a harem full of consorts.

But Pei Xin had always disliked physical intimacy; even the mere thought of such matters felt bothersome. The late emperor had often urged him to take a wife, only to be firmly refused each time. He hadn’t expected that even as emperor, he’d still be pestered about this.

“It’s unnecessary.” Pei Xin said coolly.

“The old minister does not mean that Your Majesty must immediately choose a wife or empress,” the preceptor explained. “But the inner palace is empty, Your Majesty has no one even to speak with. The late emperor once said the royal bloodline is thin and hopes Your Majesty will carry it on- ”

Pei Xin clicked his tongue impatiently. “This matter need not be mentioned again.”

His refusal was decisive. But, unfortunately, the ancient relic had an equally ancient mind. Confident that Pei Xin wouldn’t execute him, the old man prattled on endlessly.

Eventually, other ministers began to chime in, agreeing with his opinion and jointly petitioning Pei Xin to take concubines.

Pei Xin’s irritation mounted.

He closed his eyes briefly, then a thought struck him.

When he opened them again, a flash of viciousness crossed his face.

“So many mouths running off at once. I suppose none of you need your tongues anymore.”

Leisurely, Pei Xin toyed with the white jade ring on his finger. “Guards. Take them, every one of them, and tear out their tongues.”

Gu Fangzhi, who had been dozing off, jerked awake. “!”

Wait-

He’d only closed his eyes for five minutes.

How had things escalated to tongue-pulling already?!

Seeing the guards moving toward the ministers, Gu Fangzhi shuddered and immediately chose to reload.

Time rewound perfectly to the moment when Grand Preceptor Sun was just standing up, trembling.

“Your Majesty,” the old man began again, “this old minister has something to report, though I am uncertain whether I should speak.”

As Gu Fangzhi was still deciding how best to save the man’s tongue this time, Pei Xin’s amused voice drifted from above.

“Don’t,” Pei Xin said lazily. “Don’t say it.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……?”

?? Huh??

He had no idea what changed Pei Xin’s mind, but he let out a long sigh of relief.

From the dais, Pei Xin looked down at the deflated Grand Preceptor and let a faint smile curl at his lips.

‘You’re somewhat useful after all, Gu Fangzhi.’