EHW Ch60

The sudden appearance of Pei Xin at the Gu residence left everyone in the household utterly shocked.

Normally, the brothers of the Gu family weren’t ones to eat much breakfast, usually just a bowl of plain porridge and a small piece of cake or pastry.

But because of Pei Xin’s unexpected visit, the kitchen scrambled to prepare several delicate side dishes.

Pei Xin sat at the head of the table, without any airs of imperial authority.

He said simply, “Sit. Eat.”

Gu Yunchuan and Gu Huaiyu exchanged uneasy glances.

They were still reeling from what had happened that morning, when little Manman had gone to wake Gu Fangzhi, only to find the emperor himself in his brother’s room.

When he came running out saying he’d seen the “Emperor brother,” both men had thought the child was dreaming.

It wasn’t until they personally saw Pei Xin walk out of Gu Fangzhi’s room that they were struck speechless, so shocked that even in the middle of winter, a thin layer of cold sweat had broken out on their backs.

Remembering that moment even now, both Gu Yunchuan and Gu Huaiyu still felt their hearts tremble.

Gu Yunchuan finally composed himself and said respectfully, “Your Majesty’s favor toward my second brother and the grace you have shown our family, this minister is deeply humbled and dares not take it lightly. We will surely serve the throne with utmost loyalty.”

Gu Huaiyu made a vague, stifled noise of agreement—“Mm… yes.”

Gu Fangzhi quickly echoed him, “Mm… yes.”

He hadn’t realized that Manman had already seen Pei Xin that morning.

Since he’d overwritten his save file from the previous night, it was too late by the time Gu Yunchuan came rushing over.

The only way to keep Pei Xin’s visit secret now would’ve been to reload from the morning court save.
But Pei Xin, too lazy to fuss over such things and unconcerned about people finding out, didn’t let Gu Fangzhi reload this time.

To Gu Yunchuan and the others, he offered no real explanation, just said he was out on an incognito inspection.

Thankfully, Gu Yunchuan was straightforward and didn’t think too deeply about what kind of inspection required a midnight visit to the Gu estate.

Unfortunately, not everyone was so oblivious.

Even if Pei Xin had tried to hide his movements, the supposedly “low-profile” but clearly luxurious carriage parked outside the Gu residence, and the “bearded guard” standing beside it, who was obviously the emperor’s bodyguard Yang Luhai—were enough to tell anyone that His Majesty had once again spent the night at the Gu home.

Soon, the entire capital was buzzing with speculation.

Some whispered that the Gu family was about to rise in power.

Some guessed that Gu Yunchuan would soon be granted a noble title.

Others said Gu Huaiyu would become an imperial merchant.

A few even suggested that perhaps Pei Xin had taken a liking to one of the Gu family’s distant female relatives…

But the most frequent topic of gossip was Gu Fangzhi.

People already knew that he enjoyed the emperor’s deep trust, but an overnight stay?

That was too shocking to ignore.

Could it be that Gu Fangzhi possessed some mysterious, hidden talent?

Or perhaps…

Well, people could guess all they liked. No one dared speak such things aloud.

Pei Xin’s reign had become more dignified and steady than ever before.

Especially after returning from Liangshan, he’d matured noticeably, his temper and impatience, so reminiscent of the late emperor, had softened.

It was as if he’d truly grown up overnight, becoming a different man.

So even though the ministers were curious, they still respected him deeply.

They thought, Whatever His Majesty wishes to do, let him do it.

Still, despite everyone’s care not to overstep, Pei Xin somehow arrived at court with a dark expression.

In truth, Pei Xin had wanted to hear people whisper about him leaving the Gu residence.

Not the ridiculous rumors from before, like “Lord Gu is actually a woman carrying the imperial heir” or “Actually, the emperor is the one who’s female.”

But, perhaps, just something sweet and youthful.

A young man in love sometimes can’t help but want to hear his name and his beloved’s spoken together, just once, by someone else.

Yet the entire morning passed without anyone daring to mention it.

Pei Xin’s face grew darker by the minute.

The courtiers below, of course, had no idea what he was thinking.

When they sensed the emperor’s aura turn cold and oppressive, they all assumed he was on the verge of another violent outburst.

Trembling, they kept their heads down.

In the minds of the assembled ministers, two words appeared—
firs t fury, then slowly tyrant.

Later that morning, Ministry of Rites.

Song Jingzhou broke his roasted sweet potato in half and handed a piece to Gu Fangzhi.
“Brother Gu, have something to eat first.”

Gu Fangzhi smiled. “Set it aside for now, I’ll finish checking the ritual sequence first.”

Song Jingzhou sighed in admiration. “Brother Gu, you truly are diligent.”

Gu Fangzhi didn’t answer—he merely smiled.

He had, in fact, taken that half of the sweet potato earlier and eaten a bite.

The heat of the roasted carbon skin had burned from his throat all the way to his stomach.

Before he could even swallow properly, the system popped up a new notification—

[BE Ending Achieved: “Ah, what a warm-hearted man you are.”]

He’d have to wait for it to cool before taking another bite.

Gu Fangzhi bent back over his documents.

He’d been tasked with drafting the upcoming New Year sacrificial ceremony, from the offerings to the attendants accompanying the emperor.

The offerings were easy enough; past records provided plenty of reference.

But the selection of attending officials was a nightmare.

Most of the old ministers who had served the late emperor had long followed him to the grave.

The names listed in past documents meant little to Gu Fangzhi.

He also had to account for rank, relationships between departments, and each man’s standing in Pei Xin’s trust.

And worst of all, he had to calculate everyone’s birth dates and match them with the geomancy of the imperial tomb.

Consulting the calendar and divination charts for hours, Gu Fangzhi’s head felt like it was splitting apart.

Suddenly—under Song Jingzhou’s concerned gaze, he calmly tore the page in front of him into strips.

Then he reloaded his save.

The paper returned to its pristine state.

Gu Fangzhi smiled faintly, turning another page as though nothing had happened.

Song Jingzhou, meanwhile, chewed on his sweet potato and flipped through a book of his own.
After a moment, he rested his chin on his hand.

“Oh, right, Brother Gu.”

“What is it?”

“I heard from those who’ve been there, our Great Qi’s imperial mausoleum is said to be quite extraordinary.”

Gu Fangzhi blinked. “?”

A question mark might as well have popped above his head.

No matter how extraordinary a mausoleum was, wasn’t it still… you know… a tomb?

As if reading his mind, Song Jingzhou elaborated.

He described the dome painted with star maps, the solemn stone statues, the eternal lamps that never extinguished, and the murals depicting the lives of two emperors.

He added that even the jade and bronze burial treasures inside were rare masterpieces, the kind one might never see in a lifetime.

Listening, Gu Fangzhi gradually stopped teasing and began to feel genuine curiosity.

“But—”

Song Jingzhou took another bite of sweet potato.

“Even if we wanted to see it, we can’t. His Majesty’s going in himself this year.”

After his shift, Gu Fangzhi went to the palace.

Recently, a scholar had been coming to lecture Pei Xin, but according to the accounts from the Right Minister, the emperor had been distracted and impatient in class.

In such cases, there was only one remedy: private tutoring.

As Gu Fangzhi was entering the palace, he ran into the old teacher, surnamed Zhang, on his way out.

The poor man still looked terrified of Pei Xin, he clutched Gu Fangzhi’s sleeve, trembling.

Hearing the teacher’s description of Pei Xin’s behavior, Gu Fangzhi couldn’t for the life of him connect it with the same man from last night, the one whose breath had gone completely unsteady just because Gu Fangzhi had squeezed his hand.

He tried to defend Pei Xin fairly: “Isn’t Your Majesty currently fasting? Anyone would be irritable without meat for days.”

When they reached the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the teacher was still outside taking deep breaths, trying to psych himself up. Gu Fangzhi went in first.

Pei Xin immediately tossed something in his direction. Gu Fangzhi instinctively reached out to catch it, but missed.

Pei Xin raised an eyebrow and laughed, low and amused.

Gu Fangzhi: “?”

Was he… teasing him?

He quickly reloaded a save and tried again. This time, he caught it perfectly. Looking down, he realized it was a lychee.

In this era, fruits were a luxury, especially out-of-season ones like lychees or pomegranates, worth practically a fortune.

Gu Fangzhi almost couldn’t bear to eat it. “Where did this come from?”

“From Miluo,” Pei Xin replied.

Then he tossed something else at him, closer this time, so Gu Fangzhi managed to catch it on the first try.

He looked down: this time, it was a grape.

Pei Xin said, “Teacher should take some home later.”

It was a blatant act of affection, and Gu Fangzhi felt the fruits burning hot in his palm.

Pei Xin picked up a small, oddly shaped knife and showed it to him. “This came with the fruits.”

The knife looked a bit like a butterfly knife, or a modern multi-tool, several razor-thin blades hidden in a slender handle, beautiful but dangerous.

Gu Fangzhi leaned in to take a closer look. “That’s… rather finely made.”

As he bent forward, a loose curl fell from his shoulder, brushing lightly across Pei Xin’s wrist and tangling there.

Pei Xin flinched, and the knife’s sharp edge nicked his finger bone, leaving a shallow cut.

At that exact moment, the nervous teacher, who had finally gathered enough courage, stepped into the room, only to be greeted by the sight of Pei Xin holding a blood-streaked knife.

His vision went black as cold sweat poured down his back.

A knife, to him, symbolized the emperor’s ruthlessness.

The ruby on its hilt symbolized bloodlust.

The blade pointing toward him could only mean his death would come here and now.

And just then, Snowball came barreling in from who-knows-where, wrapped in a shredded bedsheet.

It had apparently gotten tangled in it and was struggling, whining pitifully.

Chaos. Pure chaos.

Gu Fangzhi didn’t know whether to stop Pei Xin’s bleeding, help the fainting teacher, or free the dog first.

In a flash, he threw Pei Xin a handkerchief to stanch the wound and ran to support the staggering teacher.

Pei Xin lazily wiped the blood from his finger, watching the two tangled figures on the floor and scoffed, “Couldn’t Teacher just rewind time?”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He’s sixty years old! You’re jealous of a sixty-year-old man? You’re seriously jealous over this?!

Still, Pei Xin’s words reminded him, and so Gu Fangzhi reloaded.

Then it all happened again.

Pei Xin cut his hand again, the teacher fell again, Snowball howled again.

“Ah,” Gu Fangzhi said awkwardly. “Wrong save slot.”

Pei Xin: “……”

It’s not even the New Year’s palace banquet yet, and you’re already performing a comedy routine?

Brilliant. Absolutely spectacular.

Fortunately, after all the chaos, no one was seriously hurt.

Pei Xin’s wound healed quickly, the teacher had only a minor bump, and Snowball finally freed itself from the bedsheet and scampered off.

Gu Fangzhi exhaled in relief.

After class, he suddenly remembered something.

“Your Majesty, I heard the imperial mausoleum is quite beautiful?”

Pei Xin made a noncommittal noise. “It’s… all right.”

“Is it true there are eternal lamps shaped like little children?”

“Yes,” Pei Xin admitted.

He never understood his father’s taste, lining the corridors with lifelike statues of children. The whole thing was unsettling to look at.

Pei Xin didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits.

Though, ever since meeting Gu Fangzhi, that conviction had… wavered a little. Still, to him, death was death.

No matter how grand the tomb, it was still just a grave.

The New Year’s ritual there was purely ceremonial, he had little interest in it.

But Gu Fangzhi, on the other hand, seemed excited.

Pei Xin looked up at him. “If Teacher’s that curious, come in with Me.”

Gu Fangzhi froze. “Is that… allowed?”

Pei Xin smiled faintly. “No one would dare say it isn’t.”

Gu Fangzhi hesitated. “…Better not.”

Pei Xin said, “It’s fine. You’re not an outsider.”

With that, Gu Fangzhi had no way to refuse further.

Seeing his silence as agreement, Pei Xin said, “Then it’s settled.”

As he spoke, he picked up that little knife again, spinning it casually around his fingers.

Pei Xin admitted to himself that his reasons for inviting Gu Fangzhi to the mausoleum weren’t entirely pure.

He just wanted to spend more time with him, even if their “private time” happened to take place in a tomb.

After all, didn’t people always say that royal families had no real affection, only politics?

Well, sorry, Father.

Pei Xin offered a cold, silent apology in his heart.