EHW Ch53

Gu Fangzhi first returned to his own tent and did a simple wash-up.

On the table, there was a note left by Gu Yunchuan, with four neatly written characters:
“Be careful in all things.”

The handwriting was elegant yet steady, strong, and composed, far better than anything Gu Fangzhi could write with his right hand. He sighed, feeling inferior.

He tucked the note into his chest pocket and hurried toward Pei Xin’s tent.

Pei Xin was leaning back on the couch, brows tightly furrowed as he read through memorial reports.

When Gu Fangzhi entered, Pei Xin didn’t even look up.
“Wait until I finish these,” he said curtly.

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He seriously suspected Pei Xin had evolved past the need for sleep.

He reached out and took the documents from Pei Xin’s hand.

“Your Majesty should rest now.”

Pei Xin’s hand was left hanging midair. He turned and gave Gu Fangzhi a glance, still frozen in that same posture.

What was that look? Was he angry?

Gu Fangzhi was about to reload a save, but before he could, Pei Xin stood up and started walking toward the bed.

Gu Fangzhi waved a hand in front of his face.

“Close your little eyes, close, close, close, ”

Pei Xin: “……”

Was Gu Fangzhi treating him like a child now?!

Gu Fangzhi found himself very pleased with his own teasing and quickly reloaded a save again just to do it twice.

Pei Xin: “……”
This man was growing increasingly unruly.

No sense of propriety whatsoever.

He didn’t like it.

Gu Fangzhi, oblivious to the dragon’s displeasure, leaned in a little closer, settling into a more comfortable posture.

Pei Xin glanced up at him, then suddenly tilted his head, and rested it on Gu Fangzhi’s lap.

Gu Fangzhi froze.

His first instinct was to pull his legs away, but when he saw Pei Xin’s sharp, composed profile so close to him, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

The result of that hesitation was that by the time Pei Xin fell asleep, Gu Fangzhi’s legs had gone completely numb.

When he finally slipped away, he hobbled on pins and needles, silently howling in pain with every step.

They slept until dusk.

After a quick meal, someone came to report that Qin Xuan and Gu Yunchuan were already in position.

Compared to the last operation, this one was launching an entire day earlier, time was tighter than ever.

Gu Fangzhi felt even more nervous this time. He paced the tent, saving new checkpoints as he went.

Pei Xin, chin slightly lifted, let attendants fasten his armor while watching Gu Fangzhi spin in circles with a sidelong glance.

A soldier suddenly ran in.

“Your Majesty, General Ye Bao says he wishes to speak with you.”

Pei Xin raised his brows without surprise.

Anyone with a bit of sense would know Wucheng’s defeat was inevitable tonight.
If Ye Bao still cared about his men, he’d naturally try to keep them from dying in vain against Pei Xin’s army.

Hearing this, Gu Fangzhi’s expression brightened; he followed Pei Xin toward Ye Bao’s tent with visible relief on his face.

Pei Xin shot him a glance.

“Teacher seems very concerned about him.”

Ye Bao’s status was sensitive, he was an enemy general they had captured.

Normally, anyone hearing Pei Xin say such a thing would panic and rush to explain they had nothing to do with Ye Bao.

But Gu Fangzhi didn’t think that far.

Or rather, he trusted Pei Xin wouldn’t truly be jealous or unreasonable with him.

He said honestly, “This minister is more concerned about Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin gave a quiet snort. “Sweet talker.”

Up ahead was Ye Bao’s tent.

When they entered, Ye Bao was sitting dazed in a chair.

The moment he saw them, he stood up.

After a brief pause, he asked, “Can you really promise not to harm my men?”

Pei Xin leaned casually against the wall, looking at him without answering.

Ye Bao hesitated, then said, “…Inside the city gate, there’s a small pavilion. An old man, about seventy or eighty, stays there. If you give this to him, he’ll help you open the gate.”

As he spoke, he suddenly reached up and untied his hair ribbon, at the end of it hung a small, delicate jade seal carved in the shape of a tiger’s head.

He tossed the seal toward Gu Fangzhi.

Gu Fangzhi startled, scrambling to catch it, it brushed past his fingertips, bounced up once, fell again, bounced,

Pei Xin: “……”

Was he stir-frying with it?

After a couple of near misses, the little seal slipped through Gu Fangzhi’s fingers and hit the ground with a crisp crack.

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He nearly fainted from rage, both at himself and Ye Bao.

He lunged forward, grabbed Ye Bao by the collar, and shook him hard.

“Something that important, and you just throw it?! Huh? Huh?!”

Ye Bao was shaken dizzy, eyes wide in disbelief, how had this polite, mild-mannered beauty suddenly turned into such a maniac?!

The truly terrifying part was Pei Xin.

He stood still, leaning on the wall, but the corner of his mouth was curved upward.

To Ye Bao, it felt like both of them had gone insane at the same time.

Fortunately, Gu Fangzhi had saved right before Ye Bao threw the seal.

After venting his anger, he reloaded.

Just like before, Ye Bao untied the ribbon and tossed the seal.

Gu Fangzhi, prepared this time, still failed to catch it.

On the third try, however, he was finally skilled enough to snatch the seal steadily in his palm.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Gu Fangzhi lifted his chin and cast Pei Xin a triumphant look.

Pei Xin: “……”

If he hadn’t just witnessed all that fumbling, he might’ve really believed Gu Fangzhi was capable.

Still, he played along, giving him face.

“Teacher is truly awe-inspiring, majestic and valiant.”

Ye Bao blinked, not sure why, but Pei Xin suddenly looked a little older, a little wearier.

As night fell, Pei Xin led the army out quietly.

This time, at Gu Fangzhi’s firm insistence, Pei Xin didn’t leave him behind on the hillside.

However, since he couldn’t protect Gu Fangzhi in the thick of battle, he placed him on the outskirts of the field, close enough to see him, but far enough to stay safe.

Pei Xin brought his fingers to his lips and blew a strange, birdlike whistle.

A moment later, the sharp roar of explosions tore through the city walls.

Pillars of fire shot into the sky, burning bright enough to turn the night into day.

From within, Ye Bao’s Xuanjia Army responded, opening the city gates from inside.
Pei Xin’s forces surged forward, storming through the gate like a roaring tide.

The ground trembled under their march.

As the city gate fell, Gu Fangzhi kept his eyes locked on Pei Xin’s figure,
his hand ready at any time to reload a save.

But the young emperor was already a seasoned fighter, charging at the front lines, fearless, his spear flashing like a serpent as it struck straight through the enemy’s hearts.

Once, a thin, frail man seized a fleeting opportunity, while Pei Xin’s full attention was on the enemy ahead, to slip into the formation like a ghost.

He snatched a soldier’s horse, spurred it forward, and raised a short blade aimed straight for Pei Xin’s throat!

By the time Pei Xin noticed, the dagger was already plunging toward his neck.

He jerked his head aside.

But it was too late to dodge completely, the blade was certain to pierce the side of his neck.

The icy, sharp tip pressed against his skin, and Pei Xin felt a flash of searing pain along his throat.

The next instant, everything went black.

When his vision cleared, the pain was gone.

Pei Xin turned his head and saw the would-be assassin now standing several paces away, bewildered.

A chill ran down Pei Xin’s scalp.

That damned Gu Fangzhi, after torturing him for so long with his witchcraft, had finally, for the first time, used it to actually help him.

Pei Xin suddenly burst into laughter.

His delighted voice rang out amidst the grim battlefield, so jarringly bright that everyone, friend and foe alike, froze in place.

In that moment, every soldier and enemy who heard him shared a single thought:

His Majesty… has gone mad, hasn’t he?

Thanks to the Xuanjia Army’s inside support, the battle ended quickly.

The Cangsheng Sect’s forces stationed in Wucheng were almost completely wiped out, with only a few stragglers fleeing west toward the Western Hu. Qin Xuan had already gone to pursue them.

But every war has its casualties.

Gu Fangzhi saw several familiar faces lying lifeless on the ground, men he had spoken to only days ago, now breathless and still.

His chest tightened, and his eyes stung unexpectedly.

He was, after all, a modern man—war had always been something distant and abstract to him.
Now, staring at the blood spreading across the dirt, his body trembled despite himself.

Yet deep down, he was happy, because Pei Xin had won.

Leaving part of the army to clear the battlefield, Pei Xin returned to camp first.

By the time he had washed the blood from his body, it was only midday.

Another pile of memorials awaited him on the desk.

The top letter, from the Right Chancellor, reported that people in the capital were beginning to suspect something was wrong with Pei Xin’s health, how else to explain his long absence?

Of course, the wily old fox used the opportunity to drag out several ministers who’d been planning to stir up trouble.

Another secret letter came from Yang Luhai, and its opening line nearly made Pei Xin stop breathing:

“Snowball has chewed through another pillar in your chambers.”

Pei Xin’s head ached at the thought.

He shoved the reports aside and went to find Gu Fangzhi.

He’d already ordered Gu Fangzhi to be sent back to camp earlier, while he stayed behind to brief Qin Xuan, which delayed him a little.

When he arrived, Gu Fangzhi was chatting with Gu Yunchuan.

The two brothers were clearly exhilarated by Gu Yunchuan’s performance in battle.

Gu Fangzhi asked, “Do you think this kind of military merit is worth… two courtyard houses?”

Gu Yunchuan nearly cried. “Fangzhi.”

Gu Fangzhi laughed weakly. “I’m just saying, haha—come on, who cares about money these days, right, big brother?”

Gu Yunchuan declared firmly, “Right.”

Gu Fangzhi smiled faintly… then pinched his own thigh under the table.
“……”

Gu Yunchuan noticed Pei Xin first and hurried to salute.

Gu Fangzhi scrambled off the bed as well. “Your Majesty.”

Pei Xin gave a soft “Mm.”

Both brothers waited for him to speak.

But instead of talking, Pei Xin picked up a wooden hairpin from the table, one Gu Fangzhi had left there—and turned it in his fingers, saying nothing.

Realization flickered across Gu Yunchuan’s face.

“Your Majesty must have something to discuss with my brother. I’ll take my leave.”

Pei Xin nodded slightly.

Once Gu Yunchuan had gone, Pei Xin said quietly, “Teacher, thank you.”

He was thanking him for rewinding time.

Gu Fangzhi replied, “This minister only wished to ease Your Majesty’s burdens.”

Pei Xin raised an eyebrow.

Something about Gu Fangzhi felt… off.

His energy seemed low, and even his usual flattery lacked its usual spark.

Turning the wooden pin between his fingers, Pei Xin asked, “Teacher, are you in low spirits?”

Gu Fangzhi blinked, surprised.

He thought he’d hidden it well.

Even Gu Yunchuan hadn’t noticed, how could Pei Xin tell?

But it wasn’t a big deal. He shook his head, intending to say nothing.
Yet Pei Xin called again, “Teacher?”

“Sigh.” Gu Fangzhi exhaled softly, unable to hold it in anymore.

“I just saw… someone I knew. It made me feel sad.”

Pei Xin hadn’t expected that to be the reason.

He was silent for a while, then suddenly asked,

“Teacher, do you know how many men we lost in this battle?”

Gu Fangzhi shook his head.

“Twenty-four,” Pei Xin said.

Out of over six thousand, only twenty-four. The number was astonishing.

“They did not die in vain,” Pei Xin continued.

“Their blood, the flags that still fly, and the peace our people will soon enjoy, these will all be their send-off.”

He paused, then added, “Thanks to you, Teacher.”

The tightness in Gu Fangzhi’s chest melted, like something warm spreading through it.
He bowed his head in silence, then lifted it with a smile.

“Your Majesty,” he said softly, “you look especially handsome today.”

Pei Xin: “……”

He had not expected that.

His mouth twitched upward uncontrollably before he forced it back down, trying to look composed.

“Hmph,” he said lightly. “Very well, I’ll allow it.”