EHW Ch51

Pei Xin glanced at Ye Bao, just about to ask Gu Fangzhi why he was so insistent on bringing the man along, then he suddenly remembered.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be deaf and mute right now.

Almost forgot.

Luckily, he’d only just made a sound before Gu Fangzhi pulled him away.

Gu Fangzhi, however, seemed to know exactly what he wanted to ask.

He lowered his voice and explained, “He… he’s the one who replaced Li Hao!”

Then, afraid Pei Xin wouldn’t believe him, he added quickly, “A deity told me in a dream!”

Of course, Pei Xin didn’t believe that nonsense about divine revelations.

So, how did Gu Fangzhi know Ye Bao’s identity?

There was only one possibility: Gu Fangzhi must have seen Ye Bao on the battlefield and recognized him.

Which meant… Gu Fangzhi hadn’t stayed obediently behind on that hilltop as he was told.

He must’ve come down, probably to protect him.

Pei Xin parted his lips, momentarily stunned.

By now, a few people had begun to notice the commotion between them, casting curious, gossiping looks at the pair in the corner.

Afraid of attracting suspicion, Gu Fangzhi straightened up, patted at Pei Xin’s chest front, and said in a scolding tone, “You ! I told you to open your mouth when you eat. Look at you, crumbs all over your robe!”

Pei Xin: “…………”

All traces of his earlier emotion vanished.

aking a deep breath, he turned away and walked off, shoulders stiff.

Gu Fangzhi went back to sit by the campfire.

The moment he sat down, he heard Ye Bao mutter under his breath,
“They’re all no good.”

Gu Fangzhi turned toward him.

Just like last time, Ye Bao noticed his gaze.

“What?” Ye Bao asked.

Propping his chin in his hand, Gu Fangzhi said softly,

“My younger brother’s about your age. Seeing you reminds me of him.”

Ye Bao blinked in surprise.

In times like these, many people had been separated from their families.

He instinctively assumed Gu Fangzhi had been parted from his own brother.

The hostility in his eyes faded a little. “I see.”

Gu Fangzhi studied him curiously.

As expected of a male-protagonist-type hero, Ye Bao had thick brows, sun-browned skin, thin lips, and bright, resolute eyes, the kind of face that just seemed made to shout things like:
“Ten years east of the river, ten years west, don’t bully the poor youth!”
or “My fate is mine to decide, not Heaven’s!”

But what Gu Fangzhi was really curious about… was his in-game name.

Unable to hold it in, he saved his progress and asked cautiously,
“…‘On a stormy night, my wife turned out to be a man and still gave me a baby’?”

Ye Bao stared at him blankly. “What?”

“Ahaha, nothing,” Gu Fangzhi said quickly. “Just practicing a tongue twister.”

Then he reloaded, pretending nothing had happened, though for some reason, he could feel Pei Xin glaring at him from behind.

After that, Gu Fangzhi skillfully used his save-load method to find out which thatched hut Ye Bao was staying in.

He couldn’t understand why Ye Bao, a soldier, was living among the refugees.

Most likely, Ye Bao had realized enemy spies were disguised as refugees and was pretending to be one himself to observe them.

Still, that made things easier for him and Pei Xin, it would be far simpler to kidnap someone from a refugee camp than from a military barracks.

After chatting a bit more, the crowd of refugees began to disperse to rest.

Gu Fangzhi wanted to keep talking to Ye Bao but didn’t want to raise suspicion.

He stretched and followed the others toward the huts.

He lay down facing the wall, pretending to sleep.

After a while, he felt Pei Xin slip inside and lie down behind him.

A light tap on his elbow, twice. It was their agreed-upon signal: meaning no issues before the mission begins.

And, incidentally, Gu Fangzhi just thought having a secret signal made him look cool.

The sound of snoring slowly filled the room; the night grew deeper.

Compared to last time, Gu Fangzhi was even more nervous now.

He kept his eyes open, waiting silently.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he finally decided it was time and turned over.

Pei Xin was facing him, head resting on one arm.

Their eyes met.

In the dark, the young emperor’s gaze was like twin stars, clear, bright, and utterly unshaken.

Gu Fangzhi leaned forward and whispered into his ear,

“Ye Bao’s hut is the second one on the right- ”

Before he could finish, someone in the corner suddenly shouted in their sleep.

He couldn’t make out the words, but the voice was loud and angry, like someone arguing mid-dream.

For a moment, all the snoring stopped.

Pei Xin immediately reached out and covered Gu Fangzhi’s mouth.

Gu Fangzhi blinked rapidly in alarm.

Sensing his tension, Pei Xin lightly patted his cheek twice with his fingertips.

Gu Fangzhi felt the rough calluses on Pei Xin’s fingers brush his skin and nodded slightly.

A few moments later, the snores resumed.

But Pei Xin still hadn’t removed his hand.

At first, Gu Fangzhi thought he was just being cautious, but as time dragged on, he started to find it a little strange.

He tugged lightly at Pei Xin’s sleeve.
Only then did Pei Xin slowly pull his hand back.

Gu Fangzhi continued what he’d been saying earlier, telling him exactly where Ye Bao was staying.

Pei Xin nodded. “Wait one incense stick’s time, then meet me at the door.”
He rose to his feet.

Even sneaking out alone was risky, but sneaking out while carrying another person? That was suicide-level difficulty.

After Pei Xin left, Gu Fangzhi braced himself for the sound of a struggle or a patrol discovering him, ears pricked, ready to reload the moment anything went wrong.

But as the minutes ticked by, everything remained silent.

When the appointed time came, Gu Fangzhi crept out of bed.

Once outside, he looked around, and saw a figure approaching in the moonlight.

The faint silver glow revealed it was Pei Xin.

He carried a curved blade in one hand, and slung over his shoulder was Ye Bao, unconscious.

Ye Bao’s mouth was gagged with a strip of coarse cloth.

Gu Fangzhi’s eyes widened. “You, you actually did it?! That’s incredible!”

Pei Xin’s lips twitched into a smirk, clearly pleased by the awe in Gu Fangzhi’s voice.
“I knocked him out and carried him off. Is that really so surprising?”

Gu Fangzhi exclaimed, “Such strength! I can’t imagine how much power you’d have if you were just wringing out laundry!”

Pei Xin: “……”

All traces of pride instantly vanished.

Expression darkening, he turned toward the city wall.

“Let’s go!”

Having learned from last time, Gu Fangzhi quickly found the small hidden exit on the city wall.
Pei Xin pushed Ye Bao out first, slipped through himself, then turned back and reached a hand inside.

“Teacher, come,” he said.

Behind them, torches flared to life, the night patrol inside Wucheng had already noticed someone missing.

Gu Fangzhi hurried to crawl through, and at that exact moment, Pei Xin raised his arm to shield Gu Fangzhi’s face from the branches jutting out beyond the wall.

Gu Fangzhi froze.

He’d forgotten that the last time he’d squeezed through this same gap, those branches had scraped his cheekbones, leaving several shallow cuts.

He hadn’t expected Pei Xin to remember, let alone block them for him.

For an instant, Gu Fangzhi’s feelings were a swirl of emotions: half admiration for Pei Xin’s attentiveness, two parts lingering fear, a bit of gratitude… and something subtle he couldn’t name.

But there was no time to dwell on it; urgency didn’t allow for emotional pie charts.

Hooves thundered in the distance. Like before, Pei Xin grabbed Gu Fangzhi and pulled him into the shadows.

As the first soldier galloped past, Pei Xin’s blade flashed, the man toppled from his horse.

Pei Xin tossed Ye Bao over the saddle, mounted swiftly, then yanked Gu Fangzhi up behind him.

This horse now carried three people, much slower than before, but fortunately Gu Fangzhi remembered the escape route.

Guiding Pei Xin along, he helped save precious time.

Even so, a rider caught up from behind. Pei Xin clicked his tongue, spun his wrist, and hurled his curved blade backward.

The pursuing soldier fell.

Pei Xin reined in his horse sharply, and as the fallen man’s mount galloped past, Pei Xin reached out, grabbed its reins, and vaulted onto it mid-run.

Gu Fangzhi’s jaw dropped.

Watching Pei Xin’s cloak billow as he moved through the air, Gu Fangzhi was completely dumbfounded.

That was… cinematic.

For the first time, he truly realized that the “sullen-faced kid” he’d seen every day was actually terrifyingly competent.

Pei Xin urged both horses forward, reaching over to grab Gu Fangzhi’s reins. “Keep your head down.”

Gu Fangzhi obeyed instantly, practically burying his face in the horse’s mane.

With two horses now, their speed doubled.

Once they had shaken off pursuit, Pei Xin circled a few times to make sure they weren’t being followed, then arrived at the rendezvous point.

He whistled, a waiting carriage rolled out from the shadows.

Pei Xin dumped Ye Bao onto the floorboards and sat beside Gu Fangzhi.

Just like last time, they soaked cloths in water and wiped their faces clean.

Halfway through, Pei Xin suddenly realized something.

This time… he hadn’t kissed Gu Fangzhi yet.

Though the urge was very much there.

And in this carriage, well, kissing Gu Fangzhi here had already become somewhat of a tradition.

This resolution would not be shaken by any meddlesome time-reversal spell.

They said once was unfamiliar, twice was habit, and honestly, his second attempt had been far better than the first.

He could probably improve again: lighter pressure, avoid bumping noses.

Thinking so, Pei Xin reached out.

His hand clasped perfectly around the back of Gu Fangzhi’s neck, forcing him to turn toward him.

During the escape, Gu Fangzhi’s mind had been blank except for one thought: run faster, don’t die.

But now, remembering what had happened the last two times they’d been in a carriage like this, his face flushed red all the way to the tips of his hair.

He couldn’t help recalling that moment when Pei Xin had leapt from one horse to another, his robe flying, his movements sharp and graceful.

Gu Fangzhi could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

Pei Xin’s fingers brushed lightly against his cheek twice before he leaned in.

A quarter-hour earlier, Ye Bao had awoken to a sharp pain at the back of his neck.

He was dazed. He should’ve been asleep, why was he on horseback?

He quickly shut his eyes again, pretending to remain unconscious. Amid the noise, he heard Leonardo’s voice calling someone: “Your Majesty.”

Your Majesty?

Wait—

Was that “mute” actually the new Emperor of Qi, Pei Xin?!

That damned tyrant!

When had he come to Liangshan, and how had he infiltrated Wucheng?

And how on earth had they discovered him?
What did they plan to do by abducting him now?

Ye Bao’s guard shot up instantly.

To avoid arousing suspicion, he stayed limp and silent.

They brought him into a carriage and tossed him unceremoniously onto the floor.

Ye Bao: “……”

What the hell? There were seats, weren’t there?

Did they think he was garbage?

Swallowing his indignation, Ye Bao stayed motionless, feigning death, trying to eavesdrop on what Pei Xin and Gu Fangzhi might discuss.

If Pei Xin had brought Gu Fangzhi to infiltrate Wucheng, then Gu Fangzhi must be one of his closest confidants.

But neither of them spoke, all Ye Bao could hear was the rustling of clothing.

Curious beyond reason, he cracked one eye open just a sliver.

And what he saw nearly made his soul leave his body.

The two men’s faces were inches apart —

Pei Xin had Gu Fangzhi pinned against the corner, and their lips were so close they could’ve been separated only by a leaf.

Closer, closer—

Ye Bao nearly jumped out of his skin, instinctively scooting back.

That tiny sound was enough.

Pei Xin’s head snapped around.

His gaze was icy, seething with irritation as it locked onto Ye Bao.

Ye Bao met that gaze boldly, yanking down the gag around his mouth.

“Tyrant,” he shouted, “what do you plan to do to me?!”

Pei Xin: “Do to you?!”

A dark fury surged in his chest, nowhere to go.

He gave a chilling laugh.

“First I’ll pull out your hair, then your nails, flay your face, then dig out your eyes…”

The dragon was bloodthirsty.