EHW Ch43part1

After bathing, Pei Xin returned to the Hall of Mental Cultivation with a faint, bitter scent of medicine, and an equally bitter aura of dragon energy clinging to him.

He found Gu Fangzhi playing with Snowball.

The man was beautiful, the dog was beautiful, and even the shredded paper scattered all over the floor somehow looked… beautiful.

If a hardworking farmer came home after a long day and saw this sight, he might feel warmth in his heart, but also the sinking realization that the rest of his life would hold no peace.

That was more or less how Pei Xin felt.

Hearing him enter, Gu Fangzhi looked up. “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin walked over to the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a folded letter.

He held it between his slender fingers, turning it over thoughtfully for a moment before saying,
“Teacher, come here.”

When they were alone, Pei Xin usually spoke gently, calm, measured, even faintly enlightened like a monk.

It was rare to hear him this solemn.

So Gu Fangzhi immediately walked toward him.

Snowball bounded after him, tail wagging furiously.

“Tsk. The dog stays put-” Pei Xin said.

Snowball perked up his ears and howled at the ceiling in protest.

When Gu Fangzhi came close, Pei Xin handed him the letter.

Gu Fangzhi blinked. “…What’s this?”

It was a light, thin piece of stationery, hardly weighing anything, but on the cover were four sharp, ink-black characters:

To My Teacher, Open Personally.

Pei Xin’s cold fingers pressed down on the back of Gu Fangzhi’s hand, stopping him from opening it.

“Don’t read it yet,” Pei Xin said quietly. “If I don’t come back, then you may.”

It was his final insurance plan.

Inside that letter, Pei Xin had written with brutal honesty that he knew of Gu Fangzhi’s secret, and promised him:

If Gu Fangzhi was willing to restore everything afterward, Pei Xin would grant him boundless wealth and power in return.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t know what the letter contained, but he froze for a moment nonetheless.

Since ancient times, soldiers marching to war always left something behind for the people closest to them, a few last words, or a keepsake.

He hadn’t expected Pei Xin to leave him a letter.

He stood stunned for a long while before finally lifting his gaze.
“Your Majesty will surely return safely.”

After all, with him behind the scenes, pulling the strings, he could always bring Pei Xin back if anything happened.

“Of course,” Pei Xin said, and the shadow on his face lightened. “How many dangerous battles has this Emperor fought before? Teacher may not know. ”

He raised his brows, a hint of pride and youthful arrogance surfacing as he continued,
“I once led a hundred men in a night raid through the enemy camp. We charged in three times, out three times, and I came away with only minor wounds.”

“Oh! How valiant of Your Majesty!”
Gu Fangzhi clapped enthusiastically, only to realize his hand was still caught under Pei Xin’s.

Pei Xin noticed too. He jerked back, hiding his hands behind his back.
“Enough. I’ll rest.”

…Gu Fangzhi’s hands were surprisingly soft.

Unlike his own, calloused from the hilt of a sword.

The next morning, Pei Xin attended court as usual.

But after showing his face briefly, he claimed illness and left.

The imperial physicians hurried after him.

Gu Fangzhi and a few others, of course, knew this was all a performance,
a cover story for Pei Xin’s secret departure from the capital.

He carefully timed everything, waiting until sunset, and then saved right at the moment Pei Xin would be leaving, on save slot #2.

Now he only had one save slot left, but that was fine, one was enough.
He idly practiced saving and loading a few times to get used to using slot #3, which he rarely touched.

Outskirts of the capital.

A small unit of shadow guards escorted Pei Xin out of the city.

Each one was handpicked and personally trained by him since youth, men who’d shared life-and-death battles together.

Feeling he should say something, Pei Xin addressed them:

“You are my blades, the pillars of my people. This expedition is not only for me or the empire,
but for your own honor.”

His gaze swept over their faces.

“If anyone wishes to withdraw, I won’t stop you.”

No one moved.

Pei Xin picked up a wine bowl, downed it in one go, and smashed it to the ground.

The guards followed suit, raising their bowls and drinking.

Then, his vision went black.

The wine bowl reappeared in his hand.

The guards stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

Pei Xin: “……”

Fine.
He could say it again. He was used to this by now.

He repeated the exact same speech, and his vision went black again.

Pei Xin: “…………”

After experiencing so many cases where Gu Fangzhi didn’t rewind when expected, or did rewind when least expected, he didn’t dare relax for even a second.

He repeated it a third time, and this time Gu Fangzhi didn’t rewind.

Pei Xin: “……”

Tired.

“…You. Blades. People. Pillars. Battle. Honor. Withdraw. No stop.” he muttered wearily.

The damned Gu Fangzhi had reduced his once-eloquent imperial speech into caveman grammar.

After getting some fresh air, Gu Fangzhi returned to the Ministry of Rites.

The minister still didn’t know that Pei Xin’s birthday banquet was effectively canceled.
He was barking orders left and right, pushing the final preparations.

Knowing how things would end, Gu Fangzhi worked with especially performative reluctance,
his hands busy, but his soul already long gone.

Fortunately, by the next day, things felt calmer.

Pei Xin didn’t attend court.

The imperial physicians reported that he had suddenly fallen seriously ill.

The Minister of Rites and the visiting envoys panicked, and since Gu Fangzhi had been in the palace the day before, they surrounded him, demanding to know how the emperor was doing.

Covering for someone of Pei Xin’s rank was always tricky, say too little, and they’d think he was exaggerating; say too much, and they’d think the emperor was dying.

Luckily, Gu Fangzhi had already decided to use Snowball’s symptoms as reference.

He said,
“His Majesty’s mind is sound, but his mood is volatile. His temper’s erratic, his body temperature fluctuates, he paces back and forth in his room, one moment sitting, the next running about.”

Everyone who heard this sighed sympathetically.

“A rare and difficult illness,” they said. “May His Majesty recover soon.”

Days passed, and Pei Xin still didn’t appear.

A decree came instead: state affairs would be handled temporarily by the Right Chancellor and several senior ministers.

Most officials were secretly relieved, they could finally breathe easier.

But Minister He of the Rites Ministry looked ready to collapse.

“Only four days left… only four days until His Majesty’s birthday! Lord Gu, you visited the palace yesterday, has there been any improvement?”

He shook Gu Fangzhi’s shoulders in desperation.

Gu Fangzhi said, “Seems a bit better… or maybe worse. Gradual changes.”

Minister He: “……”

He sighed heavily.

Gu Fangzhi did feel sorry for him, but there was nothing he could do.

If Pei Xin’s horse traveled quickly and didn’t rest much, he should’ve already met up with Qin Xuan by now.

Gu Fangzhi couldn’t help wondering, was the young emperor sleeping well these days?
Did he still have trouble resting?

On the way back to the Gu residence, the carriage stopped and started several times.

“What’s going on?” Gu Fangzhi asked, leaning out the window.

A servant, Ah-Qi, came running.

“We ran into Third Master, sir. He’s entertaining guests at a tavern nearby. He sent some things home, for you, the eldest master, and young Master Manman.”

He handed over a soft leather satchel.

The bag was made of tanned cowhide, decorated with bright tassels, silver rings, and exotic embroidery, vivid and flamboyant.

Inside were several small boxes, each filled with milk candies that gave off a rich, sweet aroma.

Gu Fangzhi tried one.
Not bad, pretty delicious, actually.

His younger brother Huaiyu’s business was going well.

He had contacts from all over the world.

Once the empire got through this crisis, maybe Huaiyu could help him out too.

When he returned home, Gu Fangzhi handed some candies to little Manman.

By afternoon, it began to snow lightly.

Gu Yunchuan was helping Manman build a snowman, but the snow was still thin, so it came out small and lopsided.

When Gu Fangzhi arrived, Manman proudly introduced,

“This one’s Big Brother, this one’s Fangfang-ge, this one’s my other brother, and this one’s me!”

The snowman for Gu Yunchuan had two full arms;
the one for Huaiyu had a tiny wine gourd at its waist;
and the one for Gu Fangzhi had a fake flower stuck on its head.

Manman’s reasoning:
“Because Fangfang-ge smells the nicest!”

Gu Fangzhi played snowball fights with the boy for a while, using his advanced snowball-throwing skills and strategic saving/loading to win handily.

By the time Huaiyu returned, dinner was ready.

The brothers gathered in Manman’s room and ate together.

Lately, things between them had been quite peaceful.