EHW Ch24

That night, it rained.

They say every autumn rain brings a chill. In the middle of the night, Gu Fangzhi was literally woken up by the cold.

There are few things more miserable than waking halfway through a good sleep. So, determined to secure a full night’s rest, Gu Fangzhi used his favorite “tool” he loaded a save from before bed and told Ah-Qi to prepare a hot-water bottle for him to sleep with. He even remembered to tell Ah-Qi to bring one each for Gu Yunchuan, Gu Huaiyu, and Manman as well.

Ah-Qi, puzzled, agreed.

Gu Fangzhi lay back, listening to the patter of rain, thinking he’d sleep soundly till morning, but things still went awry halfway through the night.

Outside, he heard muffled voices laced with panic. Jolted awake, he pushed open the window to see a servant boy lying on the ground, he’d tripped over a storage chest left by the door, slipped on the wet steps, and broken his leg.

Seeing the pale, pain-stricken face of the young servant, Gu Fangzhi didn’t hesitate to reload.

“Looks like it’s going to rain tonight,” he told Ah-Qi. “Prepare a few hot-water bottles, one for me, and send the others to Big Brother and Third Brother’s rooms. Also, move the boxes away from the window behind my room; don’t leave them blocking the path. Someone might fall and get hurt.”

Ah-Qi nodded and went off to carry out the orders.

Gu Fangzhi sighed in relief and nestled into the warm blankets, finding a comfortable position.

But as the saying goes, sleep early and you’ll wake in the middle of the night; plan to sleep in, and you’ll wake up even earlier.

Just as he’d finally fallen into a deep sleep, he felt a small, warm weight pressing on his chest, light, like a kitten.

“Fangfang-ge.”

Gu Fangzhi opened his eyes to see Manman on tiptoe, leaning over him, a pair of dark eyes shining in the night.

“Manman? What’s wrong?”

“My brother was called out just now, business matters,” he said. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Fangfang-ge, can I sleep here? I want to hear a story.”

【Congratulations, player, you’ve reached a BE ending, ‘Exhausted Student’】

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

What kind of BE is that? He got a Bad End just from being sleepy?

Luckily, the auto-save was right before he went to bed.

Gu Fangzhi took a deep breath and called Ah-Qi over again.

“Looks like it’s going to rain tonight. Prepare a few hot-water bottles, one for me, one for Big Brother, and one for Third Brother. Move the boxes away from my back window so no one trips. Also, let Manman sleep here tonight. Didn’t Third Brother say his shop has been busy lately? If he gets called out in the middle of the night and wakes Manman, that won’t do.”

Ah-Qi blinked at him, completely bewildered.

It took him a good moment to process the stream of instructions before he replied, “Oh—yes, Second Master! You’re really thoughtful tonight.”

Praise aside, Ah-Qi was still confused. Whether it was the selfish, arrogant old Second Master or the suddenly polite, considerate new one, Gu Fangzhi was never the type to care about such trivial details. What was with him tonight?

He shrugged it off, assuming his master was simply in the mood to “experience the joy of managing household affairs.” Still, he followed the instructions to the letter.

Before long, Manman arrived.

This time he wasn’t as bold as before, clutching his blanket, hiding half his face, with only his bright eyes peeking out at him.

Gu Fangzhi lifted a corner of his quilt and patted the bed. “Come on.”

Manman scrambled in and mumbled, “Fangfang-ge, you smell nice.”

Gu Fangzhi chuckled and began telling him a Conan case, one of the few that wasn’t too scary and that he could still vaguely remember.

Children radiate warmth like little furnaces, and before long, it was Gu Fangzhi who drifted off first.

Manman sighed softly, pulled the blanket up to cover him, then rested her head on his arm and closed her eyes too.

That night, finally, nothing went wrong.

***

The next morning, Gu Fangzhi, driven by the philosophy that “if you didn’t sleep well, you can always sleep again”, reloaded his save twice just to get a little more rest.

Only then did he carefully pull his half-numb arm from under Manman’s neck.

At breakfast, he noticed several maids staring at him curiously.

Before he could ask, Ah-Qi burst out, “Second Master, you’re amazing!”

Yesterday he’d thought Gu Fangzhi was just fussing for no reason, but sure enough, it had rained in the middle of the night, bitterly cold. By morning, Ah-Qi heard that one of the servants had slipped near the back door; if Gu Fangzhi hadn’t had those boxes moved, the poor boy might’ve tumbled down the steps and broken a leg.

And Gu Huaiyu? He really had been called out for business in the middle of the night. A few loud, boisterous men had come by, their voices so booming that, if Gu Fangzhi hadn’t brought Manman to his room, he’d certainly have been woken up.

Before Gu Fangzhi even got out of bed, the servants had already been gossiping. The consensus: their Second Master must be blessed by the heavens.

Even in the grand capital, nothing spreads faster than gossip.

At court, the servants from various households gathered in corners to swap news, and Gu Fangzhi’s “series of miracles” quickly became the hot topic of the day.

Somewhere along the line, the story had gotten twisted: now people were saying Gu Fangzhi possessed clairvoyance.

By the time he reached the front hall to await the morning assembly, the rumor had already made a full circuit.

Song Jingzhou leaned over and whispered, “Brother Xian, I heard you were enlightened last night?”

Gu Fangzhi: “?”

How was the story getting this ridiculous?

He decided to amuse himself. “Yeah. The immortal who enlightened me is called ‘Save File.’ Our motto: Always follow the save.”

Song Jingzhou: “……?”

He had no idea what that meant, but suddenly felt Gu Fangzhi sounded… popular.

Gu Fangzhi laughed to himself, eyes curving, then reloaded.

This time, with a serious expression, he told Song Jingzhou, “Don’t listen to the rumors. His Majesty dislikes talk of spirits and omens, be careful not to invite trouble with your tongue.”

Song Jingzhou nodded earnestly.

“But speaking of His Majesty…” Gu Fangzhi lifted his eyes to the sky. “It’s already this late, why hasn’t court started yet today?”

Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Pei Xin lay in bed, eyes closed.
Not moving. Not speaking.

Playing dead.

Last night, it rained.

Perhaps because the imperial physician had changed the formula for his medicinal bath, the scent had turned more bitter than usual.

Pei Xin hadn’t yet grown used to that acrid smell, and that night, he was once again plagued by nightmares.

In his dream, he found himself back on the battlefield.

It wasn’t his first battle, but it was the one that had carved itself deepest into his memory.

He had just turned fourteen that day. Urged on by his father and older brothers, he had drunk some wine in celebration. Somehow, the enemy learned of it and launched a night raid right in the middle of their feast.

The cries of battle sobered him up almost instantly. He grabbed his silver spear, tilted his head so someone could fasten his armor, and swung onto his horse.

The enemy had been fully prepared. The moment he appeared, an arrow struck his arm. Luckily, it was his left arm, and though the wound wasn’t deep, the blood ran freely.

He tore off a strip of cloth, wrapped it around the wound, and charged forward with his spear raised.
A man of about forty, gaunt and wiry, met him head-on.

Perhaps out of fear, the man’s eyes were brimming with tears. He looked at Pei Xin and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Pei Xin glanced down at the spear that had already pierced through the man’s chest, confused.

Why was he the one apologizing when he’d been the one killed?

He jolted awake — only for his vision to go black.
The next instant, he was pulled back again.

Pei Xin: “……”

‘What is Gu Fangzhi doing in the middle of the night again? Has he lost his mind?’

This time, the nightmare had changed, no longer the battlefield, but white bones floating in a sea of blood.

Pei Xin watched those skeletal hands reaching upward and, absurdly, felt a strange sense of familiarity. He even had the urge to shake one in greeting.

But the nightmare didn’t end there.

That damned Gu Fangzhi — awake in the middle of the night, fiddling with his ghostly magic again — had rewound time once more.

Pei Xin: “……”

His hands itched. He really wanted to hit someone.

He gave up on sleep altogether, sat up, and tried to read to kill time.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t use his sorcery again.

Pei Xin: “…………”

After staying awake the whole night, Pei Xin decided he must truly be an idiot.

By the time dawn approached and court was near, he got up to dress.

The dragon robe was complicated, layers of heavy fabric, an array of ornaments around the waist. Just as he finally finished dressing, Gu Fangzhi rewound time again.

And there he was, stripped back down to his inner robe.

Pei Xin: “…………”

‘All phenomena are empty; all attachments are illusions.’

Nothing is real.

Enlightened by this sudden bout of Zen clarity, Pei Xin lost all interest in worldly matters. He shoved Yang Luhai aside and lay back down on the bed.

Yang Luhai, who had served under the late emperor and practically watched Pei Xin grow up, had never seen him like this before.

He approached nervously. “Your Majesty… Your Majesty?”

Pei Xin said nothing.

“Is Your Majesty feeling unwell?”

Still silence.

“Is Your Majesty… hungry?”

No response.

Panicking, Yang Luhai hurried out of the inner hall, grabbed a young eunuch by the sleeve.
“Call the imperial physician! Fetch the Right Chancellor!”

The eunuch nodded and was about to sprint off when Yang Luhai stopped him.
“Wait! Call for Gu Lang too!”

The eunuch nodded again and ran off at full speed.

Yang Luhai returned to Pei Xin’s side, trying to engage him in small talk, about the weather, about palace affair, anything, hoping for a reaction.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to Gu Fangzhi.

Yang Luhai said cautiously, “Speaking of which, many are praising Gu Lang today — they say his foresight borders on divine.”

Pei Xin’s lashes trembled. “Oh?”

Finally, a reaction! Yang Luhai was overjoyed and quickly relayed all the rumors he’d heard about Gu Fangzhi’s “miraculous foresight.”

When he finished, Pei Xin just sat there in silence. “…………”

Divine foresight, indeed.

Meanwhile, he had been tormented to the brink of death by that man’s “divine” antics.

As he brooded, a figure in blue rushed in from outside.

The newcomer’s skin was fair, his eyes curved like peach blossoms, his expression gentle and refined, it was none other than Gu Fangzhi.

Pei Xin’s anger flared the instant he saw him. “Get out!”

Gu Fangzhi blinked. “Eh?”
What’s wrong with this kid? Such a temper today.

He was just about to reload when Pei Xin noticed his fingers twitch under his sleeve.

Pei Xin instantly sobered up, gritting his teeth. “Teacher, come in.”

Gu Fangzhi stepped inside.

Pei Xin lifted his gaze, studying the man’s face — clear-eyed, well-rested, radiant. He’d obviously slept like a log last night.

If only there were a way to keep Gu Fangzhi from causing such chaos again…

Wait. There might be.

Pei Xin propped himself up, eyes narrowing like a beast fixated on its prey.

“Teacher,” he said suddenly, voice low and deliberate.
“Tonight, you will stand vigil for Us.”