EHW Ch59

[Congratulations, player has reached BE ending, Hello? Is this the Education Bureau?]

[Congratulations, player has reached BE ending, Teacher, why is our child crying all of a sudden?]

[Congratulations, player has reached BE ending, Professional ethics! Hey! Teacher’s ethics!]

[Congratulations, player has re…]

Before Pei Xin could even finish speaking, Gu Fangzhi’s entire field of vision was instantly drowned in an overwhelming flood of BE (Bad Ending) notifications.

The game system began looping endlessly, reloading autosaves every time a BE triggered, then immediately spawning another BE screen. It was like a perpetual motion machine of doom.

Everything in front of Gu Fangzhi blurred until all he could see were those flashing words.
His hearing, however, was painfully intact, he could hear Pei Xin’s voice repeating over and over, distorted by the looping timeline:

“I I like I I I like I like Teacher, ”

Gu Fangzhi’s head spun as the world pulsed and warped. Then, amidst the dizziness, a flicker of realization hit him, a spark of understanding.

He tried to speak.“Y-yo yur ni ni ni, ”

…Honestly, trying to talk mid-time-reversal was impossible.

He couldn’t even predict which syllable he’d blurt out next; it sounded like some prehistoric man with a toothache attempting to sing opera.

For the first time, Gu Fangzhi felt a little admiration for Pei Xin.

It was impressive the man could even string a coherent sentence together while time kept rewinding.

Meanwhile, Pei Xin: “……”

The young emperor’s expression was visibly displeased.

He hadn’t actually intended to let Gu Fangzhi learn of his feelings this soon.
But it wasn’t something he’d meant to hide either.

Now that Gu Fangzhi had noticed, had asked, there was no reason to deny it.
Pei Xin had already decided to admit it frankly.

He had imagined many possible reactions: perhaps Gu Fangzhi would be delighted, perhaps shyly flustered, perhaps panicked but secretly pleased.

He just hadn’t imagined… this.

Gu Fangzhi repeatedly rewinding time.

What was that supposed to mean?

Was he trying to erase it? Pretend it never happened?

Pei Xin frowned slightly, lips tightening.

Words once spoken are like water poured out.

And Pei Xin had no intention of taking his back, not even if Gu Fangzhi could reset time itself.

He steeled himself to persist, to keep saying it until it stuck, but before he could, Gu Fangzhi hurriedly blurted out,
“Y-Your Majesty, w-wait, d-don’t say anything yet!”

Pei Xin: “?”

Why was he the one stammering now?

That had never happened before. Pei Xin’s instincts prickled, so he kept quiet as instructed.

A moment later, the world finally stopped spinning.

The rewinds ceased.

“Teac- ”

Pei Xin began to speak, but Gu Fangzhi shot upright like a startled cat.

“Don’t, don’t call me Teacher!”

He grabbed Pei Xin by the sleeve, dragging him over to the table.

“Your Majesty, please, sit.”

Then he pulled up another chair and sat directly across from him.

Pei Xin looked puzzled. “What is this about?”

Was he really getting a midnight lecture?

But before he could ask, Gu Fangzhi said solemnly, “Your Majesty… may I commit a small offense against you?”

Pei Xin: “?”

What a funny question.

Did Gu Fangzhi think this was the first time he’d offended him?

Completely calm, the emperor rested his elegant face in his hand and said,
“Teacher, go ahead.”

Receiving permission, Gu Fangzhi took a steadying breath,
and lightly placed his fingers on Pei Xin’s.

Pei Xin: “……”

The unexpected touch sent a faint tremor through him, like a full stalk of wheat swaying gently in the autumn breeze.

He looked up to see Gu Fangzhi’s face: utterly serious.

Gu Fangzhi gave his knuckles a gentle squeeze, waited a beat, then asked, “May I… offend you one more time?”

Pei Xin’s composure had long since vanished; his voice was soft now. “Teacher may offend as you wish.”

Gu Fangzhi thought for a moment, squeezed his arm, then hovered his hand over Pei Xin’s chest.

Pei Xin’s breath hitched. His heartbeat quickened.

Looking down at Gu Fangzhi’s hand resting against his chest, he was certain his own expression must have been something spectacular.

And still, he wondered, what on earth is he doing?

If Gu Fangzhi was just trying to “confirm his feelings,”
Pei Xin wouldn’t have minded a direct kiss instead.

His mouth even felt a little itchy;

Gu Fangzhi’s lips could’ve scratched that itch nicely.

But then Gu Fangzhi drew back, touching his chin thoughtfully.

Seeing there was no continuation, Pei Xin asked regretfully, “Teacher’s not going to keep offending?”

“No more,” Gu Fangzhi said. Then, after a pause,
“Your Majesty… could you call me ‘Teacher’ again?”

Pei Xin obeyed. “Teacher.”

Silence filled the air for a few seconds.

Then Gu Fangzhi’s expression turned shy.

He rubbed his cheek, gaze flickering away.

“Your Majesty… could you say ‘Teacher’ and ‘I like you’ together in one sentence?”

Pei Xin: “?”

“…Did Teacher not hear me clearly just now?”

“I heard you,” Gu Fangzhi stammered. “Very clearly.”

Thinking of that unexpected confession made his face flush even deeper.

He explained, “I, I just want to run an experiment.”

Pei Xin gave a short “oh,” then said smoothly,

“Then, Teacher, I like you.”

He leaned back casually, picking up a turtle-shaped paperweight from the desk,
rolling it between his fingers as if discussing the weather.

His tone was calm, but the tips of his ears were unmistakably red.

The color, however, barely had time to settle before it vanished, because Gu Fangzhi reloaded.

Pei Xin blinked, confused, as Gu Fangzhi clapped a hand over his own forehead.

“…As expected. It jumped straight to BE again. Oh my god. I finally know what’s going on!”

Pei Xin: “? What?”

Gu Fangzhi sighed helplessly.

When Pei Xin had confessed, the system had exploded with BE achievements, and Gu Fangzhi had thought it was a glitch, scared half to death.

But after calming down and running a few tests, he finally realized:

It wasn’t a bug.

When he’d asked Pei Xin to help test it, he discovered the truth, this game’s system wasn’t just enforcing minor protection laws, it was basically a 365-day anti–teacher-student-romance crusader (actually, 366 days a leap year).

Thankfully, it wasn’t too smart either.

Hand-holding, casual touching, even the kisses before, hadn’t triggered any BE flags.

But the moment an actual confession happened?

The system lost its mind.

Apparently, it responded to audio recognition.

That was Gu Fangzhi’s best guess, though he couldn’t be sure.

He explained it all to Pei Xin, who listened quietly for a while.

And Pei Xin, though he didn’t say it aloud, had his own private theory:

There might be another reason that strange “system” kept forcing rewinds,
because, after all…he’d been calling Gu Fangzhi “living father” in his heart this whole time.

Pei Xin paused for a moment, then asked, “So, Teacher didn’t rewind because you didn’t want to hear Me say that, did you?”

Gu Fangzhi, who had been talking non-stop like he was giving a lecture, suddenly remembered why he had started doing all this in the first place, because he’d heard Pei Xin’s confession.

His face flushed again, steaming like a boiling kettle.

“…How could I rewind just because I didn’t want to hear it? This minister knows that Your Majesty meant what you said, and I’ll accept it seriously as well.”

That straight-laced tone of his made him sound, at that moment, exactly like a proper, dignified teacher again.

Pei Xin’s lips curved faintly. He nudged Gu Fangzhi’s knee lightly with his own and asked, “Then, now that you’ve heard it, what does Teacher think?”

Gu Fangzhi admitted honestly, “…This minister… actually never thought about being with anyone.”

After transmigrating here, he’d been as busy as a spinning top,
as busy as an ox plowing a hundred acres, as busy as a milk-tea shop clerk suddenly hit with a thousand orders.

Cough, getting carried away again; that’s what comes from being too educated.

Anyway, he really hadn’t had time to think about things like falling in love or being with someone.

“And besides…”

Gu Fangzhi continued, “Your Majesty, being with me would be… quite troublesome for you.”

Pei Xin picked up the little turtle paperweight on the table again and toyed with it.
“How so?”

“Because Your Majesty would end up reading saves along with me.”

Gu Fangzhi began counting on his fingers.

“I sometimes get confused and make mistakes, and I’ll need to rewind to fix them.”

“If I lose something, I’ll rewind to find it.”

“If I have an argument during the day and lose, I’ll rewind just to argue again.”

“And maybe at that time, Your Majesty would be doing something important, like drinking tea or reviewing memorials. If I suddenly reload without warning, Your Majesty might miss your tea… or all your red-ink comments might vanish.”

“And another thing, I’m especially, especially attached to staying alive. Until this whole thing ends, I might, say, in a few years, or several years later, suddenly reload back to the current save and start everything over again.”

“So, in conclusion- ”

Gu Fangzhi wrapped it up solemnly.

“If we’re together, I’ll definitely, definitely, definitely cause a lot of chaos.”

When he wasn’t with anyone, those chaotic bits were fine.

But if they were together, well, that chaos would take on a whole new meaning.

“Oh,” Pei Xin replied mildly, unruffled.

“You’ve told Me the advantages. What about the disadvantages?”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He hadn’t expected that response, and the seriousness cracked.

A laugh slipped out.

His peach-blossom eyes curved, their dark irises shimmering; even the mole on his cheek seemed tinged with a rosy hue, making him look even softer, even more beautiful.

Ah, what a bewitching creature.

Pei Xin set the turtle back on the table and reached out, drawing Gu Fangzhi a little closer.

“Teacher’s sorcery is strong,” he murmured, “but unseen by others. The heavens are round, the earth unsteady, an extraordinary man finds no peace. Only with Me beside Teacher will you never again be alone.”

That night.

Gu Fangzhi couldn’t sleep again.

He tossed and turned endlessly, replaying Pei Xin’s words in his head.

Pei Xin was right, there really wasn’t anyone else he could tell about his “system.”

Even if he did, no one would believe him; and even if they did, they certainly wouldn’t accept it as calmly as Pei Xin had.

When Pei Xin had asked him to explain how the system worked earlier, it had actually taken a lot of courage for Gu Fangzhi to talk about it so openly.

And another thing, this seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boy was really too brave.

He didn’t even stop to think about whether he’d be rejected, what he’d do after confessing.

He just relied purely on courage, as if the words “I like you” themselves were a blunt weapon meant to knock someone out.

Still, Gu Fangzhi couldn’t help wondering, when had Pei Xin started liking him?

During the autumn hunt?

After that night he’d stood watch for him?

Or maybe back in Liangshan, not long ago?

Surely it couldn’t have been love at first sight, right?

Though… he was rather good-looking, ah, that’s embarrassing to even think about.

Covering his burning face, Gu Fangzhi eventually drifted off.

Unlike Pei Xin, who always dreamed, he usually slept soundly through the night.

But tonight, he dreamt of Pei Xin.

In the dream, the young emperor looked at him with bright admiration and said, “Teacher, you’re so cool.”

Gu Fangzhi’s heart swelled with joy.