EHW Ch38

That night, Gu Fangzhi ended up staying in the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

The way he sat by the study doorway looked so uncomfortable that Yang Luhai grew worried he might fall ill on the way back to the Gu residence.

Besides, Pei Xin had already fallen asleep, so letting Gu Fangzhi stay the night seemed to kill two birds with one stone.

After bathing, Gu Fangzhi sat at Pei Xin’s bedside and gently patted his back.

Pei Xin lay facing away from him, silent, but his eyes were wide open like copper bells.
As if sleep were utterly impossible.

Even if it had been an accident, an unintentional slip, that accidental brush of a kiss across his cheek had gone too far.

Pei Xin still remembered the details vividly: the moment it happened, he had caught the faint scent of osmanthus from Gu Fangzhi’s body, felt the man’s stray hair graze his skin, and realized, Gu Fangzhi’s lips were rather thin, yet unexpectedly soft.

Actually, it wasn’t as hard to accept as he’d imagined.

After all, it was an accident, and Gu Fangzhi had already used his witchcraft to rewind time, erasing the moment entirely.

Maybe he’d done it out of embarrassment… or maybe because he’d felt shy.

But honestly, it hadn’t been necessary to rewind, aside from Yang Luhai, no one else had seen it, and that old man certainly wouldn’t gossip about it.

From the side hall came two faint barks from Snowball.

Pei Xin’s train of thought snapped; he clicked his tongue irritably. “Tch.”

Gu Fangzhi heard the sound.

“Was that Snowball?” he asked. “Maybe it’s lonely? Shall we get it a playmate, Your Majesty?”

Pei Xin: “…………”

Did he just hear himself?

Was serving two lunatics not enough, did he really want to add a third?

Pei Xin’s temper had mellowed over time, but that didn’t mean they could keep bullying him alone, right?

He closed his eyes firmly and rejected Gu Fangzhi’s utterly malicious suggestion.
“Let it be lonely.”

Gu Fangzhi stifled a small laugh.

Outside, at some point, snow had begun to fall.
The first snow of the season drifted softly from the heavens, melting into tiny droplets as it touched the stone pavement, making the faintest, most delicate sound.

Listening to it, Gu Fangzhi’s thoughts wandered.

He was pondering a few things,

Like how all his assets had vanished overnight.

He had tried to fix it.

Right after bathing, he’d reloaded Save Slot #2, hoping to return to the time before he bought the third slot, to see whether his old saves and gold still existed.

But the game had mercilessly seen through his attempt to exploit a bug.

After detecting he’d lingered too long on the screen, a small message appeared:

[Assets: 0 Gold]

Gu Fangzhi behaved himself after that.

He’d also tried to figure out how to purchase more save slots legitimately, poking around the game’s main menu for ages, but there wasn’t even a shop interface to open.

Infuriating.

And then there was that other issue,
the “didn’t happen but kind of did” kiss created through save/load manipulation.

Sure, it had just been a brush on the cheek.
And sure, both he and Pei Xin were men…

But Gu Fangzhi thought about it for a while, then, drawing on various logical analogies like
“a wound that healed is still a wound once received” and “a pregnancy that ended was still once a pregnancy”, he reached his conclusion:

His first kiss was gone.

Thankfully, aside from Heaven, Earth, and himself, no one else remembered.

Otherwise, how awkward would things be the next time he faced the young emperor?

When he came back to his senses, Pei Xin’s breathing had already grown steady.

Gu Fangzhi tugged the quilt higher over him, then quietly rose and returned to his own small couch.

He wasn’t particularly sleepy; he’d napped earlier while Pei Xin was studying.

Opening his save menu, he admired his three precious save slots once more.

Slot 1 was from after the Western Hu envoy’s departure.

Pei Xin had been tapping the desk with a thoughtful look, saying,

“What does Teacher think? …If we truly give them soldiers, even a million may not suffice.”

Slot 2 contained part of that day’s lesson, Pei Xin had answered one of Gu Fangzhi’s questions like this:

“A gentleman loves wealth but obtains it through proper means.
I, too, once forgot that wealth is not merely gold and silver…”

Then, suddenly, an idea struck Gu Fangzhi.

He began frantically alternating between loading and saving, again and again.

Sleeping Pei Xin: “……?”

Tonight’s nightmare was oddly unique, one moment he saw the Western Hu envoy, the next, the imperial tutor.

Scenes changed so rapidly that Pei Xin’s head spun before he realized, this was Gu Fangzhi’s witchcraft at work.

…but for what reason?

What was he doing?

Pei Xin immediately grew alert, until he heard his own voice mumbling, disjointed, as though in a dream:

“I… shall… give… Teacher… one million… in gold and silver…”

Pei Xin: “…………”

So, in the middle of the night, instead of sleeping, Gu Fangzhi was… editing dream dialogue to amuse himself?

Pei Xin almost laughed in exasperation.

He glared at Gu Fangzhi’s sleeping figure in silence, completely speechless.

Meanwhile, Gu Fangzhi, embracing his newfound editing power, had fully embraced the philosophy of “If you want to hear it, just edit it yourself.”

Hearing those words from Pei Xin’s dream, he felt oddly comforted, as if he’d taken a sedative.

He switched back to the current timeline and fell sound asleep.

Pei Xin, burning with unspoken indignation, didn’t even have time to scold him before, thanks to the rewind, he too was dragged into sleep.

“Zzz…”

Two days later, Qin Xuan was set to leave the capital.

The following evening, Pei Xin hosted a farewell banquet for him.

Pei Xin disliked extravagance, so the event wasn’t large, though officials could bring their families.

Gu Fangzhi returned home to ask which of his brothers wanted to attend with him.

He’d assumed Gu Huaiyu and Manman would want to go, while Gu Yunchuan would stay behind, but it turned out to be the opposite: Gu Yunchuan agreed, and the other two refused.

Puzzled, Gu Fangzhi asked Gu Huaiyu.

“Don’t you like lively gatherings?”

Gu Huaiyu poured himself a cup of wine and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re usually quick on the uptake. What’s wrong with you today?”

He sighed when Gu Fangzhi still looked confused.

“That’s not an occasion I should attend.”

Though he’d love to meet high-ranking officials, he was still an illegitimate son without title or name.

It didn’t matter if he got looked down on, he’d endured plenty of scorn already.

But to have Manman looked down on? That, he couldn’t stomach.

Gu Fangzhi frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Just come with me. Who’d dare throw you out?”

“It’s not that simple…”

Gu Huaiyu, normally so flamboyant, was surprisingly hesitant for once.

Seeing him like this, Gu Fangzhi gripped his brother’s arm and decided firmly:

“You’re coming, with me.”

After all, the guests Pei Xin had invited were mostly familiar faces.

Besides, Pei Xin himself had dined once at the Gu residence.

If anyone dared cause trouble in front of the emperor, they’d truly have a death wish.

During this period, Gu Fangzhi’s temper had become so gentle that Gu Huaiyu once seriously suspected he’d been possessed by something.

It was the first time he’d ever seen Gu Fangzhi act so assertive.

For a moment, Gu Huaiyu was stunned, then, quietly, a faint warmth bloomed in his chest.

He smiled.

“If I get bullied, Second Brother, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

If Gu Fangzhi remembered correctly, this was the first time Gu Huaiyu had ever called him Second Brother.

He froze, then replayed it a few times in his “save file.”

In the middle of winter, his heart felt inexplicably warm.

The next day.

After finishing his duties at the Ministry of Rites, Gu Fangzhi arrived early at the palace gates to wait for Gu Yunchuan, Gu Huaiyu, and Manman.

After waiting a short while, the three of them appeared.

Gu Yunchuan had been to the palace before, so he didn’t need Gu Fangzhi to lead the way; he simply walked toward the banquet hall.

Manman held onto Gu Fangzhi’s sleeve and said brightly, “Fangfang-ge, you look so handsome in that outfit!”

Since Gu Fangzhi often left early and returned late, Manman rarely saw him in court attire.
Each time he did, she couldn’t help but compliment him.

“A saddle’s still a saddle, no matter how many pearls you inlay on it,”

Gu Fangzhi said with a small laugh, bending down to lift Manman into his arms, settling him on his forearm.

He’d barely spoken two sentences when someone approached with a cheerful greeting:
“Lord Gu—!”

By the time they reached the main hall, Gu Huaiyu raised an eyebrow as he looked at his brother’s back.

He’d long known that Gu Fangzhi enjoyed Pei Xin’s trust, so much that the emperor had even spent a night at the Gu residence.

But not until today did he realize how favored Gu Fangzhi truly was.

Gu Fangzhi might have been a low-ranking official, but almost everyone they passed along the way stopped to greet him, their words laced with deference and flattery.

What had started it all?

Could it really have been just because of that one piece of advice he’d given the emperor?
Why had Pei Xin taken such a liking to him?

‘…Wait a second.’

Gu Huaiyu suddenly remembered the rumor he’d overheard—the one claiming that Pei Xin intended to take Grand Tutor Sun as a concubine.

His head started to ache.

At Qin Xuan’s farewell banquet, Pei Xin personally gifted him a flask of wine and a jeweled sword.

Qin Xuan knelt and received them with both hands.

Gu Fangzhi noticed that Gu Yunchuan was watching the scene intently, his expression faintly wistful.

Perhaps he was reminded of his own past.

Gu Fangzhi suddenly wondered—

Had refusing Pei Xin’s offer to let Gu Yunchuan return to the battlefield really been the right choice?

But then…

Sensing his hesitation, Gu Yunchuan reached out and nudged him lightly.

“Don’t overthink it. I’m fine, Second Brother.”

Gu Fangzhi nodded slightly, making a mental note to find a quiet time to talk with him properly, to ask what he truly wanted.

When he lifted his head, he caught Pei Xin looking straight in his direction.

Pei Xin’s gaze was always deep and unreadable. Meeting it unexpectedly sent a chill down Gu Fangzhi’s spine.

Startled, he dropped his spoon into his bowl with a plop, splashing sweet wine all over his own face.

Gu Fangzhi wiped himself down, mortified, then quickly reloaded the “save file.”

Pei Xin didn’t have much of an appetite that day.

But he had to eat.

If he didn’t, Yang Luhai would report it to Gu Fangzhi, and that damned Gu Fangzhi would use his witchcraft to force-feed him somehow.

Pei Xin glumly picked up a crystal-skinned dumpling with his chopsticks.

It was one of the imperial kitchen’s specialties: paper-thin dough wrapped around finely shredded fruit and vegetables, bursting with a light, delicate fragrance when bitten.

Only today… there was something different about the flavor.

Beneath the freshness, there was a faint sweetness of osmanthus honey.

Pei Xin instinctively thought of Gu Fangzhi, and just as instinctively, he remembered Gu Fangzhi’s lips brushing against his cheek the night before.

Feeling uneasy, he touched his face and looked toward Gu Fangzhi’s seat.

Then he called, “Yang Luhai.”

“Your servant is here.”

“This dish,” Pei Xin said evenly, “tell the imperial kitchen not to make it again.”

Yang Luhai blinked, then quickly nodded and noted it down. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

No sooner had he spoken than Gu Fangzhi suddenly looked up.
Their gazes met midair—

Gu Fangzhi, caught off guard, jolted in surprise. His spoon slipped, splashing water all over his face.

…Pfft.

Pei Xin almost burst out laughing. But before the sound could escape, his vision flickered black, some shameless sorcerer had just rewound time again.

When Pei Xin came back to his senses, Yang Luhai was speaking beside him, puzzled.
“Your Majesty… what’s wrong with this dish?”

Pei Xin: “……”

“Nothing,” he said flatly.