EHW Ch47

South Warehouse.

Carts piled with filthy burlap sacks stood outside the warehouse, and waves of refugees were unloading them.

A few soldiers sat nearby to supervise, but their watch was lax.

Gu Fangzhi rolled up his sleeves and walked forward, asking casually,
“What’s in these sacks?”

One soldier clicked his tongue. “Why so many questions? Just move them inside.”

The guards’ attitude was slack, clearly, they didn’t think the goods were important.

But Pei Xin and Qin Xuan had already considered this possibility.

Everything could be a cover, a deliberate decoy.

Until they confirmed what the cargo actually was, they couldn’t afford to let their guard down.

Gu Fangzhi patted Pei Xin on the arm, pretending to “sign” something at him.

Pei Xin nodded, walked to the cart, and hefted one of the sacks toward the warehouse.

Gu Fangzhi finished rolling up his sleeves and bent to lift one himself.

【Congratulations, player, you have reached a BE ending: “Every move now requires medical insurance.”】

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He couldn’t move it. Not even a little.

With a sigh, he reloaded the save.

This time, he got smarter, just as he reached toward Pei Xin for help, a young man nearby noticed his struggle.

“Want me to help carry it?” the boy asked.

Gu Fangzhi smiled gratefully. “Yes, thank you.”

Pei Xin: “……”

When Gu Fangzhi suddenly rewound time, he thought something serious had happened.
But turning back, he realized it was only because Gu Fangzhi didn’t have the strength to lift the sack.

He’d spent years in the army, everyone around him was sturdy and strong.

Compared to his older brother, he was even the weaker one.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Gu Fangzhi reaching toward him, probably asking for help.
Pei Xin slowed his steps slightly to oblige, but before he could, someone else had already stepped in to help.

Gu Fangzhi beamed, calling the young man “little brother” every other word.

Someone nearby noticed Pei Xin’s expression darken and asked kindly, through a thick accent,
“Twisted your back?”

Then sighed with pity, “So young and already hurt your waist… won’t be enjoying life in old age, eh?”

Pei Xin couldn’t even retort, he was supposed to be deaf and mute.

Pei Xin: “……”

Stay calm. Panic leads to getting yourself killed.

Don’t fume. Fuming makes you die early.

With the young man’s help, Gu Fangzhi managed to avoid another bad ending.

At noon, food was delivered by pushcart —

flavorless, dry hard biscuits, pickled vegetables, and a thin porridge so watery it barely contained a grain of rice.

Yet after a morning of heavy labor, it actually tasted… not bad.

Gu Fangzhi sat on the ground eating, chatting idly with his helper, who turned out to be named Ye Bao, eighteen years old.

Eighteen?

Same age as Pei Xin.

Thinking of Pei Xin, Gu Fangzhi looked toward where he’d been sitting.

Pei Xin was gone.

His biscuit sat untouched on the ground.

Where did he go?

Skipping lunch? Didn’t like the food?

But not eating wasn’t an option!

Gu Fangzhi picked up the biscuit and got up to look for him.

He circled around the stacks of cargo twice, and as he passed by a wooden rack, a hand suddenly shot out from the shadows.

A strong hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him into the darkness.

Gu Fangzhi’s eyes widened; he stumbled back, only to collide with a solid chest behind him.

“The stuff we’re moving is just sand and gravel.”

Pei Xin’s low voice murmured in his ear.

Realizing it was Pei Xin, Gu Fangzhi instantly relaxed.

The hand that had been ready to hit the “reload” button eased off.

He tugged at the hand covering his mouth, and Pei Xin loosened his grip.

Gu Fangzhi turned his head. “Your Majesty?”

Pei Xin let go completely.

“This warehouse isn’t right,” Pei Xin whispered. “There’s another large space behind the west side door.”

Footsteps sounded nearby, Pei Xin immediately fell silent.

Gu Fangzhi’s hand hovered over his “save” button again.

He stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with Pei Xin, both pressing their backs against the wooden rack.

Their arms brushed.

Pei Xin could feel how tense Gu Fangzhi’s body was.

For someone with such powerful magic, his nerves were terrible.

Compared to him, Pei Xin wasn’t nervous at all.

In fact, he found himself idly studying Gu Fangzhi —

A lock of wavy hair curled naturally at the nape of his neck, tracing the ridge of his spine in smooth, ink-like lines.

Pei Xin suddenly thought, if you stripped away the magic, the mischief, the unreliability, the childishness, the disrespect, the laziness, the clumsiness, the recklessness, and—

Pei Xin: “……”

Wait. That’s… too many things to strip away.

His overheated mind cooled instantly.

The footsteps passed, just a random patrol.

After waiting a moment longer, Pei Xin continued quietly,
“I’ll go check it out. You cover me.”

Before Gu Fangzhi could answer, he released him and slipped noiselessly into the shadows.

Gu Fangzhi, pretending to be casual, whistled as he returned to his spot.

“Covering him”, easier said than done.

He didn’t even know what exactly he was supposed to do.

So he just kept chatting with Ye Bao while stealing glances toward the west door, terrified that any second a soldier might notice Pei Xin sneaking inside.

Then the supervisor clapped his hands.

“Back to work, all of you!”

Of course, the thing he feared most happened.
The guard’s gaze landed squarely on him.

“Where’s that kid who was with you?”

Gu Fangzhi’s heart skipped.

“Sir, he—”

Before he could finish, Pei Xin came walking back from behind, silent as ever, standing beside him.

He gestured a few signs at Gu Fangzhi.

Gu Fangzhi grinned, pretending to understand.
“Really? You just had to take a nap in that short time, huh?”

The guard looked Pei Xin over twice, and, seeing nothing suspicious, lost interest.

Gu Fangzhi wanted to ask Pei Xin about that small side door, but he didn’t get a single chance to speak with him all afternoon.

When night finally fell, the day’s work came to an end.

After finishing their thin porridge, the two followed the crowd back to the refugee camp.

Earlier, the camp had been half empty, but now it was crowded, people moving everywhere. Still, Gu Fangzhi couldn’t find a moment to talk to Pei Xin.

It wasn’t until later, when everyone began to settle down for rest, that things quieted.

The shabby thatched hut wasn’t large, yet over twenty people were crammed inside.

Old planks and straw were laid haphazardly on the floor, forming one big shared “bed.”

The air still held a faint trace of warmth from cooking, but it was cold and filled with a not-so-pleasant odor.

No one seemed to mind. They were long used to this cramped life. Soon, everyone was pressed together, drifting off to sleep, the hut filled with overlapping snores, mumbling, and the creaking of boards as people turned over.

Gu Fangzhi’s spot was by the wall, and Pei Xin lay behind him. On Pei Xin’s other side was a burly man snoring like thunder.

The space was too small; everyone was squeezed together. To avoid bumping into the man behind him, Pei Xin had to inch closer toward Gu Fangzhi.

Gu Fangzhi couldn’t help but chuckle.

He didn’t mind the closeness, but Pei Xin had refused to switch places with him, insisting on sleeping in the middle.

Now, he was practically flattened by him.

Still, it was warm, so he didn’t really mind.

Lying on his side facing the wall, head propped on his arm, Gu Fangzhi waited —
waited until everyone was fully asleep before he could whisper to Pei Xin.

He was dozing off when he suddenly felt Pei Xin shift closer.

An arm reached around from behind, wrapped around his waist, and with a firm twist —

Gu Fangzhi was flipped over onto his back.

…Good lord, Pei Xin had just thrown him!

The kid really was strong.

Pei Xin edged closer again.

It looked like a sleepy, half-conscious movement, but Gu Fangzhi knew, Pei Xin had trouble falling asleep. He was definitely awake.

In a pose like hugging a stuffed doll, Pei Xin held him tightly, face buried in the crook of Gu Fangzhi’s neck. Gu Fangzhi could feel the light rhythm of his breathing.

Then he heard Pei Xin’s voice, faint and almost inaudible:

“That small door—”

He was being careful, the words were barely a breath, softer than a whisper.

Gu Fangzhi could feel the warm exhale brush against his ear, ticklish like a feather stroke.

He shifted uncomfortably, turning his head away.

Sensing the movement, Pei Xin lifted the arm around his waist, pressed a palm to his cheek, and gently turned his head back.

“…It leads to another warehouse,” Pei Xin continued softly. “I saw what’s inside, it’s horse feed.”

Horse feed?

So that meant, the South Warehouse was one of the targets they were looking for.

Gu Fangzhi understood immediately.

He saved and rewound time, back to the moment that afternoon when they first entered the city.

The guard had rattled off a list of more than ten warehouse names and asked, “Which one are you going to?”

Gu Fangzhi rubbed his forehead.

It always felt strange after reloading, one second half-asleep, the next fully awake and talking business.

He muttered to himself, “It’s like dreaming of a fire drill, running downstairs in your underwear, and realizing everyone else is already lined up while you’re still confused.”

Pei Xin: “……”

He wasn’t confused.
He was used to standing up mid-sleep.

Gu Fangzhi, on the other hand, was weak.

Pei Xin’s eyes softened, a faint smile flickering there as he looked down at his arm.

Gu Fangzhi… was actually kind of comfortable to hold.

Gu Fangzhi rubbed his head, steadied himself, and reloaded again.

This time, when the guard asked, he said,

“Trouble you, officer, please send my young master and me to the North Warehouse. ‘North’ sounds nice.”

Pei Xin: “……”

First South Warehouse “sounded nice,” now North Warehouse too?

What a wonderfully lazy excuse.

Thanks to the power of save-and-load, Gu Fangzhi tired, but effective soon collected a set of intel:

South Warehouse = Horse feed
North Warehouse = None
Iron Horse Hall = Kerosene, shells, weapons
Fourth Kiln Warehouse = Incoming grain supply
Riverside Storage = None
Treasure Reserve = None
… …

After finishing the investigation, Gu Fangzhi was faced with one serious problem:

How to tell Pei Xin he already knew all this.

So he devised two possible plans:

Plan A:
Pretend that a divine spirit gave him a prophetic dream and revealed the truth.

Plan B:
Since he knew all the layouts and secrets anyway, if Pei Xin didn’t believe him, he could just take him on a “speedrun replay” of reality.

That night, Gu Fangzhi sat down beside Pei Xin with a bowl of porridge in hand.

Seeing no one paying attention to them, he leaned closer.
“I… have something to ask, Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin stirred his porridge, frowning.
“What is it?”

“Does Your Majesty believe in gods?”

Pei Xin raised an eyebrow then, without hesitation, said, “I do.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……?”

He blinked, then asked again, “Does Your Majesty believe that a god might… send dreams to his subjects?”

Pei Xin replied, deadpan, “I do.”

Gu Fangzhi: “??”

One more test: “Then if I said a god told me in a dream which warehouses store grain…?”

Pei Xin said calmly, “Ah, truly, the heavens bless Great Qi.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Wait, wasn’t Pei Xin supposed to not believe in gods?

Then who on earth was this in front of him?