EHW Ch48 & 49

Gu Fangzhi: “Then…”

Pei Xin: “I believe.”

Gu Fangzhi: “?”

He hadn’t even said anything yet!

In truth, from the very first question, Pei Xin already knew what his “dear teacher” was scheming.

To save himself from enduring more “torture,” Pei Xin decided to play along.

But even with him cooperating this much, Gu Fangzhi somehow still got suspicious.

Pei Xin closed his eyes briefly, then said calmly, “Actually… there’s something my teacher doesn’t know. I too have dreamt of certain things.”

“Hm?”

Gu Fangzhi’s eyes widened slightly. “What did Your Majesty dream of?”

Pei Xin replied, “I don’t quite remember. Only that, in the dream, someone kept telling me that the locations of the grain and weapons had already been revealed to my teacher.”

Gu Fangzhi was even more stunned.

Pei Xin had a dream like that?

Could it be that he’d been thinking about the matter too much, so his thoughts carried into his dreams?

Surely, he hadn’t somehow sensed the existence of his save/load system, that would be too much of a bug!

Gu Fangzhi studied Pei Xin’s expression closely, but found nothing there, utterly calm, like an ascetic monk.

Pei Xin cut through his thoughts: “Then what did you dream about, Teacher?”

“Ah, right.”
Gu Fangzhi gathered his mind and told Pei Xin everything he’d discovered over the past few days.

Pei Xin nodded slightly.

In the distance came the faint sound of footsteps, patrolling guards walking their night rounds.

Gu Fangzhi tensed for a moment.

He instinctively tried to get up and hide in the corner shadows, but Pei Xin reached out, a cold hand pressed firmly over the back of his hand.

In the darkness, Pei Xin gave a small shake of his head, signaling him not to move.

Gu Fangzhi trusted Pei Xin’s battlefield instincts far more than his own.

He froze in place, holding his breath, as the guards’ footsteps drew closer.

When Gu Fangzhi’s nerves had nearly hit their limit, Pei Xin sensed it, his hand squeezed Gu Fangzhi’s gently, as if to reassure him.

Just around the corner, they heard the guards talking.

“Are we really going to war with Great Qi? Feels like a dream to me.”

“Who knows…”

“Tch, even if we do, so what? That little emperor just turned eighteen. What does he know about commanding armies?”

“He’s young, yeah, but his army’s fierce. I fought them down south once, nearly lost my pants! That emperor’s face was all blue and feral, like a demon, with a monstrous birthmark—”

Pei Xin: “……”

Blue-faced and fanged? Since when?!

The voices faded away.

Gu Fangzhi sensed Pei Xin’s brief sulkiness, and couldn’t help wanting to laugh.

At that age, image mattered most. The boy who refused to go to court without every last jade pendant perfectly in place… of course he’d be offended hearing something like that.

So, imitating Pei Xin’s earlier gesture, Gu Fangzhi reached back and gave his hand a light squeeze of comfort.

Pei Xin shot him a glance, then slowly pulled his hand away.

Returning to business, he said curtly,
“Tomorrow night, we leave the city.”

Gu Fangzhi nodded.

On the way back to the hut, Pei Xin walked ahead, Gu Fangzhi following behind.
He kept hearing the soft sound of stones rolling and skittering.

Tracing the sound, Gu Fangzhi realized Pei Xin was idly kicking pebbles along the ground.

Apparently, he was in a good mood, though for some reason, acting a little childish about it.

The next day.

Though they were leaving that night, Gu Fangzhi didn’t dare slack off during the day for fear of arousing suspicion.

He spent the whole day diligently hauling sacks, and by dusk his back and waist were aching.

Outside the hut, several refugees sat chatting, people who didn’t want to squeeze into the cramped interior.

Among them, Gu Fangzhi spotted a familiar face, Ye Bao, the young man who’d helped him at the North Warehouse, around the same age as Pei Xin.

A middle-aged man was speaking:

“My home was in Zicheng. Months ago, the Church of Cangsheng came… after that, everything burned down. So I ran.”

Most of their stories were similar, villages destroyed, families scattered.

Ye Bao listened quietly, then muttered under his breath, “They’re all the same. None of them are good people.”

His voice was low, only Gu Fangzhi, sitting beside him, heard.

Gu Fangzhi glanced over.

Ye Bao caught the look. “What?”

Gu Fangzhi smiled. “Nothing.”

He didn’t find Ye Bao’s bitterness strange.

After years of living through endless wars, never knowing peace, of course people would think the whole world was rotten.

But what comforted him was how much Pei Xin had changed.

His temper was no longer the violent one it used to be.

This campaign wasn’t about starting war, it was about ending it.

Compared to when Gu Fangzhi had first transmigrated here, he now had far more faith in Pei Xin.

Night.

Gu Fangzhi lay quietly on his side, facing the wall, head resting on his arm.
Snores filled the hut.

Then a hand slipped silently across his throat, turning his head gently to the other side.

Pei Xin’s face was close, his voice a low murmur only the two of them could hear:
“I’ll go first. Teacher, come out after one cup of tea.”

Gu Fangzhi nodded.

Pei Xin released him, and the warmth at his back vanished instantly.

Gu Fangzhi turned his head just in time to see Pei Xin’s silhouette, swift, silent, slip out of the hut.

After waiting a short while, Gu Fangzhi rose too.

He was as tense as a student caught sneaking a look at the back door only to find the teacher standing there.

He took one cautious step at a time, saving and reloading after nearly every one, terrified of waking anyone.

Luckily, after a long day’s labor, everyone was too exhausted to stir, any faint noise was dismissed as someone getting up to relieve themselves.

Behind the door, in the shadows, two soldiers lay unconscious on the ground.
Pei Xin stood beside them, holding one of their waist swords.

When he saw Gu Fangzhi, his voice was low but firm:
“Follow me.”

Saying that, Pei Xin turned and strode quickly toward the side path.

Gu Fangzhi followed close behind, stepping precisely into Pei Xin’s footprints.

On the way toward the city gate, the two ran into two patrol teams of night guards.

But Pei Xin was like a vigilant leopard, born with an instinctive sensitivity to danger. Calm and decisive, he led Gu Fangzhi in silence, weaving them through the shadows without making a sound.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t even have time to use his save function.

That said, being “carried” like this felt really exhilarating.

They made their way all the way to the base of the city wall.

Naturally, they couldn’t just walk out the main gate. Pei Xin’s scouts had sent back word that there was a section of loose brickwork several hundred meters west of the gate, a small gap they could use to slip through.

The opening was already well-hidden, and at night there was almost no light.

The two of them fumbled along the wall like blind men, feeling every surface, until Gu Fangzhi’s hand brushed against something different in texture.

Excited, he nudged a stone in Pei Xin’s direction.

Pei Xin immediately came over, ran his fingers along the wall, and after some searching, pried out a loose brick.

He confirmed quietly, “This is it.”

Gu Fangzhi stepped forward to help, but Pei Xin lifted his leg and kicked the wall hard.

The stones loosened, revealing a narrow opening.

Pei Xin turned sideways and extended his hand. “Come!”

Gu Fangzhi grasped Pei Xin’s hand and squeezed himself through, scraping his cheek against the rough bricks, the sting was sharp in the cold night air.

Pei Xin quickly restored the bricks to cover the hole.

A carriage and horses were waiting for them beyond the western wall. Pei Xin didn’t let go, instead, he pulled Gu Fangzhi along as they ran.

Just as Gu Fangzhi thought they had escaped safely, the sound of torches flaring and shouts erupted behind them—

“Stop!!”

Gu Fangzhi froze mid-step, ready to reload.

Pei Xin caught the movement immediately.

With the guards checking rounds so often, their absence would soon be noticed, this wasn’t something that could be solved by simply “redoing” once.

He grabbed Gu Fangzhi’s wrist sharply. “Follow me!”

The thunder of hooves echoed behind them. Pei Xin dragged Gu Fangzhi into a shadowed corner.

As the lead guard rode up to check, Pei Xin struck, one clean motion, sword flashing, the man fell from his horse.

Gu Fangzhi gaped.

Pei Xin quickly said, “He’s not dead! I held back.”
As if reading Gu Fangzhi’s thoughts, he added that explanation before vaulting onto the horse and reaching down to pull Gu Fangzhi up.

The world tilted, then Gu Fangzhi found himself sitting in front of Pei Xin on the saddle.

Pei Xin pressed the back of his head down. “Keep low!”

Gu Fangzhi immediately ducked.

The whip cracked, striking the horse’s flank. The animal neighed and broke into a full gallop, the pounding of hooves behind them grew fainter and fainter.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t dare relax.

The freezing wind lashed his already sore face, and his heart pounded so hard it felt like it would leap out of his throat.

One hand hovered over the “save” button, ready to use it at any moment; the other clutched Pei Xin’s clothing in a death grip.

The roar of the wind and the drumming of hooves filled his ears, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed before the chaos finally quieted.

Then he heard Pei Xin’s voice: “We’re safe.”

Pei Xin dismounted and put two fingers to his lips, letting out a sharp whistle.

Moments later, a carriage rolled slowly out of the darkness.

The driver, one of Qin Xuan’s men, bowed. “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin and Gu Fangzhi climbed into the carriage.

The interior was small but warm, and despite its size, fully stocked, food, clean warm clothes, even fresh water.

They sat side by side, each dipping a cloth into water to wipe the disguise from their faces.

Pei Xin suddenly noticed something. His brows furrowed as he turned toward Gu Fangzhi’s cheek.

“You’re hurt.”

Gu Fangzhi raised a hand and touched the spot, pain flared sharply.

It must’ve happened when they squeezed through the small opening, a tree branch scratching his face.

He inhaled sharply through his teeth, but then his lips curved in a laugh.

Pei Xin finished wiping away the last smudge on his own face and tossed aside the cloth.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, puzzled.

Getting hurt, what was so funny about that?

Gu Fangzhi couldn’t explain. He just looked at Pei Xin and smiled, emotions tangled between relief and triumph, the heady mix of surviving danger and completing a near-impossible task.

Pei Xin frowned at first, then seeing that smile, his expression softened too.

He reached out suddenly and brushed Gu Fangzhi’s cheekbone, right over the scratch.
“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

Gu Fangzhi said, “Scars are a man’s badge of honor.”

Pei Xin let out a short laugh.

“Teacher,” he said, voice low.
“The capital lies a thousand li from Liangshan, yet you still came all this way for me.”

Then, earnestly: “I will remember this with all my heart.”

Gu Fangzhi was stunned.

He hadn’t expected Pei Xin to say something so solemn. He chuckled. “It’s nothing—”

But before he could finish, Pei Xin’s still-raised hand suddenly pressed against the back of his head, pulling him forward.

The bitter scent of medicine filled the air.
Their noses collided, and Gu Fangzhi’s lips crashed against Pei Xin’s.

 

 

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Gu Fangzhi: “?”

He blinked blankly, dazed, and slowly lifted his gaze toward Pei Xin in front of him.

Pei Xin’s expression was calm, almost indifferent, he looked as serene as a monk about to take vows.

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

His brain seemed to stop working entirely.

Big, slow words drifted across his mind like water sliding down glass,

Pei Xin, kissed, him?

Lips, touching… lips?

Huh?

HUH???

Pei Xin’s hand was still pressed against the back of Gu Fangzhi’s neck.

He could feel the warmth of Gu Fangzhi’s skin beneath his fingers, the tension in his body, and the soft tickle of a stray lock of hair brushing against his hand.

Actually, he hadn’t meant to kiss Gu Fangzhi.

He had just wanted to thank him, thank him for coming all this way from the capital.

But when Gu Fangzhi, still flushed with surprise, looked up at him with those peach-blossom eyes, Pei Xin had been hit by a sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him.

It was fierce, impulsive, and utterly uncontrollable.

His body acted before his mind could think, and before he knew it, he’d actually done it.

He didn’t regret it, not really.

A man should stand by his actions.

…Well, maybe he regretted it a little.
He’d used too much force, his nose and lips both hurt from the collision, and it hadn’t even been a proper kiss, just a clumsy smash like an inexperienced boy’s first attempt.

He released Gu Fangzhi’s neck and started, “Tea-”

Gu Fangzhi sat frozen in place, mind completely blank.

He didn’t know why the Mayan civilization had vanished, didn’t know how quantum gravity explained the birth of the universe, and certainly didn’t know why Pei Xin had just kissed him.

Was it… an accident?

Like the time Pei Xin pulled him up and their faces accidentally brushed?

He couldn’t even remember if the carriage had jolted or not.

The quiet inside the carriage only made it worse, instead of calming down, his thoughts tangled into knots.

Instinctively, he opened the game menu.

He had three save files.

The first save hadn’t changed in ages, from when Pei Xin hosted the envoys from Xihu outside the capital.

The second had originally been before Pei Xin’s departure for Liangshan, but later Gu Fangzhi himself had joined him there and overwritten it.

The third was from last night, right before bed, when he’d been sitting outside the hut listening to the refugees talk.

The most recent save before that was when he and Pei Xin had found the loose brick in the city wall, after that, everything had been chaos, and he hadn’t had a chance to save again until just now, after cleaning his face.

In a panic, Gu Fangzhi loaded Save Slot 3.

Immediately, he heard Pei Xin’s own voice echo:

“I will remember this with all my heart.”

Pei Xin: “……”

So he could act boldly, yet the other party just ran away, erasing the kiss from existence with his “magic.”

Pei Xin suddenly felt… annoyed.

He rewound to just before that moment, moved swiftly, grabbed Gu Fangzhi’s neck again, and kissed him a second time.

This time, he learned from experience, tilting his head so their noses didn’t collide.

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Ah. So it wasn’t an accident.

The carriage wasn’t shaking at all. It was deliberate.

But- but-

Gu Fangzhi’s fingers twitched toward the “load” button again…
then hesitated.

He didn’t dare reload, because if he did, Pei Xin would kiss him a third time.

So… Pei Xin kissed him because…he liked him?

Gu Fangzhi’s mind was a mess.
His face turned red, from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his hair.

Pei Xin waited.

When he realized Gu Fangzhi wasn’t going to rewind again, he finally released his hand.

His thumb brushed absently across his own lips as he looked at Gu Fangzhi.

“Speak,” he ordered.

Gu Fangzhi, still dizzy, stammered,
“I admit, I am elegant, charming, handsome, composed, noble, refined, sophisticated, dignified, genteel, warm, graceful, reserved yet magnetic, a true man among men, ”

Pei Xin: “……”

“Well, the teacher did speak,” he said flatly.

“Just… not anything I wanted to hear.”

The carriage jolted slightly; someone outside knocked twice on the sideboard.
“Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin answered briefly and stepped out.

There were three carriages in total, each waiting on different routes.

After circling the area and confirming no pursuers, they finally returned to the military camp.

Qin Xuan was in the main tent discussing strategy with Gu Yunchuan and several others.

The air had been heated with argument, but when everyone saw Pei Xin and Gu Fangzhi enter, their anger instantly turned to astonishment.

Qin Xuan exclaimed, “Your Majesty returned this soon?! Was there some mishap?!”

Gu Yunchuan hurried over.

One hand gripped Gu Fangzhi’s shoulder, the other reached toward his face, then hesitated, stopping short.

“You’re hurt? Where else are you injured?”

Gu Fangzhi smiled. “Just a scrape on my face, nothing serious, big brother.”

Remembering what they’d accomplished tonight, pride swelled in his chest.

Standing tall, he declared, “No problems at all. We found everything.”

For a moment, the tent fell silent, then astonishment, disbelief, and joy rippled through the room.

“Is that true?!”

Gu Fangzhi straightened even more.

Pei Xin was calmly sliding his white jade ring back onto his finger.
“It’s true,” he said casually.

Shock and admiration erupted all around.
“His Majesty is brilliant! Lord Gu as well!”

Pei Xin flexed his hand and said mildly, “It was nothing. My teacher helped greatly.”

Gu Fangzhi turned toward him, half teasing, half sincere: “I am ashamed! His Majesty is bold and far-sighted, please, do not humble yourself!”

Pei Xin: “……”

As usual, he looked at Gu Fangzhi with that mix of exasperation and amusement.

Their eyes met in midair, and suddenly, both remembered that clumsy, nose-bruising kiss in the carriage.

Gu Fangzhi shuffled his foot against the ground, looking up at the tent ceiling.
Pei Xin quietly averted his gaze.

Thankfully, no one else noticed the sudden awkward tension between them, everyone was still celebrating the discovery of the enemy’s granaries.

Qin Xuan said, “I’ll start sending men in over the next few days.”

Pei Xin nodded, giving a few low-voiced instructions.

Listening to the discussion, Gu Fangzhi could feel it clearly, war was about to erupt.

It felt like it could happen any moment now.

Hot water was a rare luxury in camp, but thanks to Pei Xin’s orders, someone brought a full bucket for Gu Fangzhi.

He didn’t use it all, after wiping himself down with a towel, he left half for Gu Yunchuan.

Peeking behind the screen, he asked, “Big brother, want me to help scrub your back?”

From behind the screen came Gu Yunchuan’s calm voice:
“Not afraid?”

He meant, wasn’t Gu Fangzhi afraid of his missing arm.

Gu Fangzhi answered without hesitation:
“I’m not.”

There was a short silence.

Then, quietly, Gu Yunchuan said, “Next time. For now, go, His Majesty might be waiting.”

Just hearing “Pei Xin” was enough to make Gu Fangzhi’s feet shuffle against the floor again.

They’d spent two sleepless nights in Wucheng, and while Gu Fangzhi had managed a little rest, Pei Xin hadn’t slept at all.

Even after returning to camp, he’d worked tirelessly ,
it had been nearly two full days and nights without closing his eyes.

Though Gu Fangzhi had no idea how to face him right now, he was genuinely worried about Pei Xin’s condition.

So he volunteered for night duty.

It felt a bit like a lamb offering itself to the wolf.

Gu Fangzhi muttered as he left, “Baa… alright then, big brother, I’ll be going now. Baa.”

Gu Yunchuan: “…?”

The quarters that Gu Fangzhi and Gu Yunchuan stayed in were quite close to Pei Xin’s main command tent, if you had short legs, it took seven or eight minutes to walk; with long legs, four or five minutes at most.

Gu Fangzhi arrived quickly, but didn’t go in.

He had a habit of saving and loading repeatedly whenever he was thinking.
His fingers tapped the air endlessly, save, load, load, load, load…

Inside the tent.

Pei Xin was looking down at the object in his hands.

It was a set of ivory tangrams.
The jade-white box was perfectly smooth, without a single crack, and on its surface were carvings of vivid human figures and beasts.

When the lid was lifted, inside were pieces of various sizes, squares and triangles, each intricately carved with tiny garden scenes, delicate and exotic in style.

A soldier had picked it up on the battlefield and sent it to him as a gift.

Pei Xin had kept it because he found the craftsmanship interesting.

Tangrams weren’t particularly fun, just a toy meant to cultivate patience and calm the mind.

Pei Xin wasn’t very interested; he was simply waiting for Gu Fangzhi and got a bit bored.

He fit a few pieces together into a square, and suddenly, the world went dark.

The tangram scattered back to pieces.

…What was Gu Fangzhi doing?

Did he trip on the way here?

Pei Xin frowned and put the tangram back together.

The moment he completed it, his vision went black again.

The tangram fell apart once more.

Pei Xin: “……”

Unwilling to accept defeat, he tried again.

The tangram broke apart again.

Pei Xin: “…………”

So much for “calming the mind.”

Why did he suddenly feel like punching something?

Outside, a shadow was pacing back and forth.

Pei Xin finally set the tangram down and raised his voice, louder than usual:
“Teacher teacher teacher, please please please come come come in in in.”

The shadow outside froze.

Then Gu Fangzhi lifted the tent flap and entered. “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin had just bathed, his black hair still damp, faintly scented with water.

A dark cloak hung loosely from his shoulders, and his expression carried a lazy air.

Gu Fangzhi, pretending everything was normal, asked,
“Is Your Majesty tired?”

Pei Xin: “I’m fine.”

The bed was neatly made, blanket folded perfectly square.

Gu Fangzhi stepped forward, unfolded the quilt, tucked in a hot-water flask, and patted it.
“Your Majesty, come on, lie down.”

Pei Xin couldn’t help but feel.

He’s talking to me like I’m his pet rabbit or something.

With a trace of royal irritation, Pei Xin stood, shrugged off his cloak, and tossed it over a chair,
then, still radiating imperious dragon aura, climbed into bed.

Once he was settled, Gu Fangzhi placed a finger against Pei Xin’s temple and began to gently massage in circles.

Pei Xin closed his eyes.

Gu Fangzhi’s sleeve brushed softly against Pei Xin’s cheek with each movement.

Even out here at the frontier, where washing clothes was a chore,

Gu Fangzhi still carried a faint osmanthus fragrance, mixed with the clean scent of soapberry,
subtle, yet it lingered in Pei Xin’s nose.

Pei Xin shifted uncomfortably, turning his head slightly away, then turned it back again.

Gu Fangzhi said softly, “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin opened his eyes. “What is it?”

After hesitating for a moment, Gu Fangzhi asked,
“Will the fighting begin soon?”

Pei Xin hadn’t expected that question.

After all, they had stirred around Wucheng long enough that the Cangsheng Sect surely knew their intentions.

Even if the enemy didn’t attack first, Great Qi would soon launch its own offensive, they couldn’t allow the sect time to move their supplies.

Pei Xin replied, “In the next few days.”

He looked at Gu Fangzhi. “Does the teacher have any advice?”

Gu Fangzhi laughed.

He was the kind of player who only clicked strategy guides when playing war games,
what “advice” could he have?

He gave his usual nonsense answer: “Of course, first we strike south, then north, then unify the system of weights and measures…”

Pei Xin: “……”

Useless.

Gu Fangzhi reloaded, and this time answered more seriously:
“Your servant will protect Your Majesty with all his might.”

Pei Xin snorted softly.

“I hardly need my teacher to protect me.”

Gu Fangzhi said meaningfully, “Ah, children don’t understand these things.”

Pei Xin: “……”

Eighteen, that age when emotions are hard to control.
Pei Xin shut his eyes again, if only so Gu Fangzhi wouldn’t see him rolling them.

Then Gu Fangzhi saved and reloaded again.
“By the way, Your Majesty…”

“Mm?”

“My elder brother…”

Gu Fangzhi hesitated, unsure how to phrase it.

“That… about the battlefield… the whole… reinstatement thing… could it possibly…”

The moment he said “my brother,” Pei Xin instantly understood what he was hinting at.

At that moment, one phrase came to Pei Xin’s mind,

“Pillow talk.”

He’d seen it before, his elder brother, who was soft-hearted with his wife.

Whenever someone needed a favor, they’d first visit his sister-in-law with gifts.

Once she put in a word, as long as it wasn’t too unreasonable, his brother would usually agree.

His brother would later joke that he’d been “persuaded by pillow talk.”

Pei Xin had always thought that was disgraceful.

A man should have his own mind.

But now, with Gu Fangzhi’s eyes darting away shyly, his finger tracing lazy circles at Pei Xin’s temple, his voice deliberately soft and coaxing…

Why had no one ever told him that being on the receiving end of pillow talk
felt so-

good.