EHW Ch16

Gu Fangzhi decided to just brush them off for now.

“Mm, mm, yes, yes.”

“Sure, sure, good, good.”

“Exactly, brother, applause for that one!”

His attitude couldn’t have been more agreeable, but somehow, the more politely he smiled, the angrier the others became.

Gu Fangzhi was getting annoyed too. He deliberately reloaded and this time enunciated clearly and powerfully:  “Bastard!”

Not far away, Pei Xin leaned lazily against a railing, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold like it was theater. The corners of his mouth curved upward despite himself.

So this was what it felt like to see Gu Fangzhi torment other people.

Finally, he wasn’t the only one suffering.

Thinking that, Pei Xin couldn’t help but let out a short laugh.

Maybe he was in too good a mood, because that laugh came out louder than he intended.

Gu Fangzhi immediately turned his head, looking behind him.

In the shadowed corridor, Pei Xin stood with his arms folded, eyes glinting faintly under the light, a faint smile on his lips, one impossible to read, half amusement, half warning.

Their gazes met in midair, and both thought the same two words:

“Crap.”

Gu Fangzhi instantly reloaded.

In the new timeline, Wu Ze was still saying, “Otherwise, don’t blame me for being impolite—”

Gu Fangzhi took a deep breath, straightened his face, and spoke righteously:  “If His Majesty were to know of your actions, what would he think?! As his loyal officials, we should devote ourselves to the glory of Great Qi, working hand in hand to strengthen the nation!”

Pei Xin: “……”

Tch.
And there he goes pretending again.

Pei Xin pressed a hand to his cheek, his molars were aching from how fake it all sounded.

The officials, of course, had no idea that Gu Fangzhi’s speech was aimed at the emperor secretly watching in the shadows.

They thought he was just mocking them.

Wu Ze, seeing that smug, self-righteous look, felt his temper snap.

He reached out to grab Gu Fangzhi’s shoulder —

But from the shadows, a pale, long-fingered hand shot out, seizing Gu Fangzhi’s arm and yanking him backward.

The young emperor’s face was cold as frost.

Wu Ze and the others froze, then hastily dropped to their knees.

“You think this is how one earns rank and favor?” Pei Xin asked.

His voice was calm, emotionless, but the quiet pressure in it made the air itself feel heavy, as though a thousand pounds of weight pressed down on their backs. None dared lift their heads.

“Y-Your Majesty… it’s not what it looks like—”

Pei Xin listened, then turned slightly toward Gu Fangzhi.

He’d long had people investigate Gu Fangzhi’s “witchcraft.” Not a single Daoist or monk had been able to crack it.

Other than reversing time, Pei Xin still didn’t know what else Gu Fangzhi could do, nor what would happen if the man were provoked or injured.

That was why he’d pulled Gu Fangzhi away just now.

But the hands that had slain men on battlefields weren’t used to gentleness; he’d used more force than he meant to.

Gu Fangzhi stumbled, crashing lightly into his chest.

Pei Xin caught the faint scent of osmanthus, sweet and light, utterly unlike his own bitter medicinal scent.

And a strand of Gu Fangzhi’s hair brushed across his cheek, ticklish and strangely distracting.

He released Gu Fangzhi’s arm and said to Wu Ze, “Oh? Then according to you, how should I see this?”

Wu Ze slammed his forehead to the ground. In desperation, he’d already prepared his excuse, admitting guilt, but shifting the blame.

“Yes, Your Majesty, we were foolish, but it was Gu Fangzhi who led us astray! He’s the one with the scheming heart!”

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” Wu Ze crawled forward on his knees, but Pei Xin kicked him away.

Wu Ze rolled across the floor, face pale with pain, but he still forced himself to shout, “Your Majesty, everyone knows what kind of man Gu Fangzhi used to be! You’ve been deceived, you don’t know his true nature!”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

…Well.

To be fair, Wu Ze wasn’t entirely wrong.

The original body’s corruption probably left a paper trail. If these men produced evidence or if Pei Xin decided to investigate…

This was getting troublesome.

He really shouldn’t have overwritten his last save when he left the banquet.

Save Slot 1 was still from half a month ago, back when he’d stayed overnight at the imperial study. He’d kept that save as insurance, in case Great Qi collapsed within the year or Pei Xin suddenly turned psychotic, he could always rewind or run away. That was Plan Z.

Pei Xin: “……”

How ironic. He did know exactly what kind of person Gu Fangzhi was.

In fact, no one on earth knew better than he did.

Remembering all the times Gu Fangzhi had tormented him, Pei Xin’s eyes went lifeless for a second.

He finally said, “…I know very well what kind of man my teacher is. You don’t need to tell me.”

Gu Fangzhi blinked, genuinely surprised.

He hadn’t expected Pei Xin to trust him that much.

He turned to glance back, only to see Pei Xin’s expression tight with visible reluctance, every line of his face screaming, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud.

Completely unwilling.

As for the punishment—

With Gu Fangzhi here, killing was out of the question.

Pei Xin thought for a moment.

“You dared pull such petty tricks under my very nose. Your ranks will be stripped, fifty strokes of the rod. The Court of Justice will handle the rest.”

As soon as he finished, his vision went black.

Pei Xin: “……”

Oh. Gu Fangzhi thought that was too harsh.

Fair enough, fifty strokes could kill old bones like these.

“Stripped of rank, thirty strokes,” Pei Xin said.

Darkness again.

“Twenty strokes.”

A pause, as if Gu Fangzhi were hesitating.

Pei Xin raised an eyebrow.

A few seconds later, the time shimmered once more.

Pei Xin: “……”
Was he bargaining like a street vendor right now?

Before Gu Fangzhi could notice, Pei Xin shot him a glare and said darkly,
“Stripped of rank, ten strokes. All stolen funds and goods to be confiscated. Those who expose other corrupt officials may have their sentences reduced.”

The punishment could be light, but it couldn’t be nonexistent.

They needed to suffer a little, serve as a warning to the rest.

He waited. This time, there was no more time reversal.

That meant Gu Fangzhi approved.

Pei Xin’s mood visibly lifted. By the time the guards arrived to drag the men away, they found the emperor smiling faintly.

Pei Xin was a naturally gloomy-looking man, frightening when he didn’t smile, and even more frightening when he did.

The guards exchanged nervous glances.

“…So, uh,” one whispered, “does corporal punishment… actually cheer him up?”

…Their emperor really was bloodthirsty.

 

…Their emperor really was bloodthirsty.

***

When the guards dragged Wu Ze and the others away, Pei Xin prepared to return to the banquet.

He took two steps before realizing nothing moved behind him.

Pei Xin turned, Gu Fangzhi hadn’t followed.

Unwilling to leave the man alone, he asked, “Teacher, aren’t you—”

Halfway through, he stopped.

Under the swaying trees, Gu Fangzhi was smiling—a faint, relieved kind of smile.

Back when he’d played the game, his impression of Pei Xin had always been summed up in two words: “the tyrant.”

He’d only known that Pei Xin was short-tempered and couldn’t stand opposition.

But seeing him punish corrupt officials today, Gu Fangzhi realized the man still cared for the people, still wanted Great Qi to prosper.
His nature wasn’t truly bad.

That realization made Gu Fangzhi feel as though a ray of light had pierced the darkness of his uncertain future.

He said earnestly, “Your Majesty’s rule is wise and resolute, beyond reproach. This minister wishes to remain by Your Majesty’s side, to witness you become a virtuous ruler who brings peace and prosperity to all.”

In the moonlight, Pei Xin’s face showed no expression; his eyes—sharp as a beast’s—only flicked toward Gu Fangzhi.

After a long silence, he muttered, “Disgustingly sentimental.”

Gu Fangzhi: “Tch—”

He’d finally spoken from the heart, only to be looked down on for it.

Reload!

Forget it, not saying that again!

Gu Fangzhi briskly reset time to the moment right after the guards left.
“Your Majesty, allow me to escort you back to the main hall,” he said stiffly.

Pei Xin: “……”

Words, once spoken, are like water spilled, and yet somehow Gu Fangzhi could even scoop the water back up.

Seeing that this time he hadn’t uttered any mushy nonsense, Pei Xin’s good mood dimmed again.

He put his cold mask back on. “Let’s go.”

***

The next day, at the royal hunting grounds.

When the eunuchs drove the prey out from the forest, Pei Xin loosed the first arrow.
It struck a stag cleanly; he rewarded the bow to General Qin Xuan.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Qin Xuan said.

Pei Xin only grunted.

Though they were now emperor and general and Pei Xin had berated him in court only days ago, they were of similar age and had once served together as young soldiers.

Not quite friends, but familiar enough to speak easily.

Especially here, in the hunt. Pei Xin prided himself on his archery; few could match him, Qin Xuan being one of those few.

“Care for a contest?” Pei Xin asked.

Qin Xuan bowed. “As Your Majesty commands.”

Pei Xin had a second longbow brought, tested its string tension, then raised it toward a distant mottled hare.

He drew the bow fully, fingers taut—

—and just as he loosed, a voice behind him shouted,

“Ah! Lord Gu, watch out!”

Pei Xin instinctively turned.

He thought Gu Fangzhi was in danger; his heart jolted, but when he looked, it turned out the man’s posture simply looked dangerous, like he might shoot himself instead of the target.

That one glance threw off his aim. The arrow veered, striking the ground beside the hare, which bolted away.

“Your Majesty’s shot went wide,” Qin Xuan observed.

Behind them, Gu Fangzhi also missed his target. Someone sighed dramatically: “So close, Lord Gu, what a pity!”

A familiar sensation washed over Pei Xin, darkness.

Before his sight returned, he already felt the bowstring snap from his fingers—
Gu Fangzhi had rewound time to the instant Pei Xin fired.

Then came Qin Xuan’s voice again: “Your Majesty’s shot went wide.”

Gu Fangzhi scowled at the arrow he’d sent flying gods-know-where.

Embarrassing. Unbearably embarrassing.

So many people watching, too.

He decisively reloaded.

First attempt—miss.
Second—miss.
Third—miss.

Fourth, fifth, sixth… tenth…

“I refuse to believe this,” he muttered, reloading once more.
“Even a blind cat hits a dead mouse eventually.”

Pei Xin felt the darkness wash over him again and again.

In his ears, Qin Xuan’s calm voice repeated endlessly:

“Your Majesty’s shot went wide.”

“Your Majesty’s shot went wide.”

“Your Majesty’s shot went wide.”

“Your Majesty—Your Majesty—Your Majesty—”

Behind them, that same exaggerated sigh echoed:

“Lord Gu, so close! What a pity!”

“Lord Gu, so close! What a pity!”

“Lord Gu—Lord Gu—Lord Gu—”

Then suddenly—

“Hit! Lord Gu’s aim is splendid! Who’d have thought such precision from so novice a hand!”

Gu Fangzhi smiled, deeply satisfied.
“Thank you, thank you.”

Dozens of reloads, just to look cool, worth it.

Meanwhile, beside him, Pei Xin once again heard Qin Xuan’s unchanging tone:

“Your Majesty’s shot went wide.”

Pei Xin: “…………”

‘Damn that Gu Fangzhi.’

Apparently, his dignity was worth protecting, while Pei Xin’s was fit only to wipe the floor.