EHW Ch61part1

After several days of working nonstop, what had once seemed impossible was finally finished.

Before he knew it, it was New Year’s Eve.

The palace banquet wouldn’t begin until later, so Gu Fangzhi only needed to enter the palace that afternoon. For once, he allowed himself to sleep in.

Somehow Manman had crept back in again, lying beside him, awake, flipping through the books on the table.

He pointed at the characters he recognized and read aloud, “Snake, have, two, ba… ah.”

Gu Fangzhi went momentarily blind, so that’s the one time being uneducated was actually a blessing.

He sprang out of bed like a coiled spring, snatched the book from Manman’s hands, and hastily replaced it with a red envelope.

Manman’s attention shifted instantly. “Waaah!” he cried in delight, hugging Gu Fangzhi hard. “Thank you,Fangfang-ge! I like you and Brother and Brother Yunchuan the most!”

A very diplomatic child.

The winter was bitterly cold but had brought little snow, until today. When he stepped outside, the whole courtyard was silver-white. Snowflakes struck the eaves and windows, making the red lanterns he’d hung last night sway gently.

In the front yard, the stewards were handing out rice, flour, oil, and New Year money to the servants. Gu Huaiyu had set up an iron rack nearby and was roasting beef; the smell of meat mingled with plum blossoms in the air, wonderfully fragrant.

When he saw Gu Fangzhi, he sliced off a piece with his knife and offered it on the tip. “Good? It’s yak.”

Gu Yunchuan, meanwhile, was in the front hall receiving guests. Many court officials had come to pay respects, and despite the constant carrying away of gifts, the pile of boxes still formed a small hill.

Looking at those gift boxes, Gu Fangzhi suddenly felt what it was like to be in love.

Everyone worked without pause until noon before finally sitting down for a meal.

After lunch, Gu Huaiyu asked someone to bring brush and ink.

Gu Fangzhi’s eyelid twitched, something ominous. “What’s this for?”

“Spring couplets,” said Gu Huaiyu. “Everyone writes a few, and we’ll pick the best to paste on the doors.”

Gu Fangzhi silently endured. “….”

Pick the best? Between Yunchuan, who wrote with his left hand, and himself, who barely managed to hold a brush, even together they couldn’t compare to Huaiyu.

In no time, Gu Yunchuan had finished his set. Though written left-handed, his characters were neat and straight. A glance revealed auspicious phrases like “May a hundred blessings increase, may a thousand fortunes arrive.”

When Yunchuan finished, he handed the brush to Gu Fangzhi.

Gu Fangzhi took it and stood before the red paper, stood and stood and stood….

Nothing came to mind. His head went blank; the only rhythmic line he could recall was, “Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron; carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon.”

He saved his progress and reloaded.

Day turned into night, indoors into outdoors.

Suddenly Pei Xin appeared before him, still frozen mid-gesture, about to lift an inkstone to his mouth.

Gu Fangzhi asked, “Putting on lipstick?”

How punk.

Pei Xin: “……”

A tyrannical dragon barely restraining thunder.

Calmly setting down the inkstone, Pei Xin said, “Why has my teacher suddenly come?”

Gu Fangzhi rubbed his hands nervously. “Your Majesty, do you happen to have a ready-made couplet? Please grant your humble servant one.”

Pei Xin arched a brow. “The teacher wants Us to help compose-”

“Cheat !” Gu Fangzhi cut him off hastily, afraid that “teacher” and “cheat” in one sentence would trigger some bad ending. After a tense pause, nothing happened.

“If We write a Spring Festival couplet for the teacher…” Pei Xin rested his chin on one hand. “Shouldn’t the teacher thank Us?”

Gu Fangzhi blinked.

“What sort of thanks does Your Majesty want?”

Pei Xin smiled faintly. “You can owe it for now. It won’t be anything that troubles the teacher.”

Then, taking up the brush, he wrote a festive, auspicious couplet.

Gu Fangzhi stepped closer. “Your Majesty’s handwriting is beautiful, every line straight and true.”

Pei Xin: “……”

Pure nonsense.

Gu Fangzhi murmured the lines to memorize them, thanked him, and returned.

Pei Xin suddenly blinked; when he came to himself, he was holding a sauce-stained rice-cake stick, tracing circles on his plate. From nearby came a minister’s flattering voice: “Your Majesty’s ink, ah, sauce treasure! I wish I could preserve it forever.”

Compared to Gu Fangzhi’s awkward flattery, that was on a whole different level.

Yet somehow, Pei Xin found Gu Fangzhi’s words far more pleasing to the ear.

As evening deepened, preparations for the palace banquet began. Courtiers arrived one after another.

It was Gu Fangzhi’s first time experiencing an ancient New Year firsthand. He’d thought the Gu residence lively enough, but the palace was on another scale, after all, this was the very celebration plan their Ministry of Rites had submitted.

Glazed lanterns glittered; music drifted through the hall. It was as bright as day, warm and joyful, filled with greetings and laughter. Not only officials but also foreign envoys had come.

When Pei Xin appeared, all knelt to wish him a prosperous New Year. Each envoy presented gifts: the envoy from Milu offered ivory white as jade, carved into a hollowed-out aerial pavilion; those from the Western Regions brought rare spices.

Then came the next envoy. Gu Fangzhi froze, bald head, thick beard. He knew that face: the envoy from Xihu.

Though Pei Xin had not granted their request for troops last time, he had driven out the Cangsheng Cult and subdued Ye Bao’s Black-Armored Army, indirectly saving Xihu. Now Qin Xuan was allied with Xihu in exterminating the remaining cultists, so the envoy was far warmer and more generous.

Unfortunately, Gu Fangzhi couldn’t look at him. The Xihu envoy was, after all, the permanent occupant of his save-slot 1, the narrative equivalent of a comma.

Pei Xin nearly burst out laughing, restraining himself: “Ha… the envoy is most considerate… ha… ministers, let us all rejoice… ha, We… hm, ”

The envoy blinked.

Had he somehow offended the emperor?

Why else was Pei Xin half-snickering through every sentence?

The other officials gave him sympathetic looks: May Heaven help you.

Unable to bear it, Gu Fangzhi reloaded to save-slot 2, returning to laugh with Pei Xin in the study.

After a chaotic sequence involving Yang Luhai fetching an imperial physician to “treat” them, the dog Snowball barking madly, and the physician collapsing in fright, the two finally stopped laughing.

Gu Fangzhi turned to look at Pei Xin.

Compared to Gu Fangzhi, who was clutching his stomach and laughing so hard he had to hold onto the table, completely losing his composure, Pei Xin was far more restrained.

He merely sat at the table, one hand propping his forehead, using his sleeve to cover his face.

If Gu Fangzhi hadn’t seen his shoulders trembling, he might’ve thought Pei Xin was just reviewing memorials.

Indeed, this little emperor cared deeply about maintaining his image.

Gu Fangzhi poked Pei Xin’s shoulder. “Your Majesty, get ready. I’m going to rewind.”

Pei Xin replied calmly, “Go ahead.”

Thanks to Gu Fangzhi’s intervention, this time the envoy from Xihu received only one cold laugh from Pei Xin.

It was still confusing and uncomfortable, but within tolerable limits.

When all the formalities were done, the sound of flutes and pipes filled the air. Palace maids gracefully brought dishes to the tables, and dancers began a soft, elegant performance.

Song Jingzhou was happily eating his long-awaited crocodile soup and told Gu Fangzhi that his father had sent a lot of local delicacies from his hometown. He promised to bring some when he visited in a few days.

Gu Fangzhi smiled and agreed, but a sudden loneliness welled up in him.

His mother had once insisted on marrying his father because she found him handsome, without realizing that, beneath the fine appearance, he was a compulsive gambler who pawned and borrowed until nothing remained.

Unable to bear such a hopeless life, she divorced him. He struck her, and she hadn’t been able to take Gu Fangzhi with her.

At some point, his father stopped coming home altogether. Fortunately, Gu Fangzhi was a clever, likable child, pretty and polite, so his grandparents, aunts, and uncles were all willing to take him in and feed him.

But one by one, those relatives passed away.

It didn’t bother him much most of the year, but during holidays like this, melancholy was hard to avoid.

What about Pei Xin?

Thinking that, Gu Fangzhi lifted his eyes to look at him.

Pei Xin’s expression was calm, though he hadn’t eaten much, he’d only been drinking. Quite a lot, in fact.

If he kept that up, he’d be drunk soon, wouldn’t he?

Just as the thought formed, Pei Xin pushed himself up from the table.

Yang Luhai stepped forward, exchanged a few quiet words, then turned to the hall and announced, “His Majesty bids you all enjoy your meal. He worries his presence may be restrictive, so he will retire first.”

Everyone knelt and saw the emperor off.

After exchanging some polite toasts with colleagues, Gu Fangzhi thought for a moment, then rose and followed the small path toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

“Eh, Lord Gu,” Yang Luhai greeted in surprise. “His Majesty had too much wine, he’s just lain down.”

Gu Fangzhi nodded and entered the inner chamber.

Pei Xin lay on the bed, eyes closed, as if asleep.

Gu Fangzhi had long noticed that Pei Xin frowned even in his sleep. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and poked between the emperor’s brows.

Pei Xin’s eyelashes fluttered. He caught Gu Fangzhi’s finger. “Teacher’s here.”

He shifted slightly to the side. “Sit.”

Gu Fangzhi sat down at the bedside.

Pei Xin’s hair was messy, scattered across the pillow. Gu Fangzhi couldn’t help lifting his hand, using his fingers like a comb to smooth it.

“Why did Your Majesty drink so much?”

Pei Xin hummed softly, paused, and said, “I did it on purpose.”

Gu Fangzhi sighed. “In a bad mood?”

“No.”

Pei Xin opened his eyes, gaze burning. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Teacher would surely have returned to the Gu residence tonight. If I wished to spend time alone with Teacher, this was the only way. I knew you’d follow.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

What the- Is this The Thirty-Six Stratagems of Love?
And here he’d thought the emperor was simply feeling low.

Annoyed, he poked Pei Xin again.

Pei Xin turned slightly, propping his head on one hand, looking at Gu Fangzhi with feigned casualness.

Tonight, Gu Fangzhi wore a crimson formal robe trimmed with gold. Pei Xin was used to seeing him in blue, red suited him differently. His pale skin and upright figure made him look like a warm candle in winter snow.

Pei Xin suddenly said, “I’ve decided what thank-you gift Teacher owes me from earlier.”

“What is it?”

Without a word, Pei Xin raised his forefinger and tapped his own forehead.

Then, with thumb and finger slightly apart, he formed the shape of a “gun.”

Gu Fangzhi frowned. “You want me to poke your forehead eight times?”

Surely not asking him to shoot?

Who’s firing what here?

Pei Xin: “……”

That familiar, fearless gleam returned to Pei Xin’s eyes. “Teacher knows what I mean. Don’t pretend.”

Gu Fangzhi fell silent.

Pei Xin added softly, “I won’t force you. If you don’t wish to, then consider the debt repaid.”

Yet, despite the words, his expression held a trace of pitiful expectation.

Ah. A retreat to advance.

So much for being a straightforward, noble emperor, he was using every sly move on this mere commoner.

Gu Fangzhi suddenly lifted his sleeve, letting the wide fabric fall over Pei Xin’s eyes.

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Pei Xin’s forehead, then quickly stood up.