EHW Ch74

Gu Fangzhi wasn’t really a short-tempered person, and Pei Xin’s personality had long been tempered into stillness, a deep, unmoving pool of water.

Yet no matter how close two people were, friction was inevitable.

It all started earlier that week, when Gu Fangzhi happened to run into Qin Xuan and Ye Bao, who had just returned to the capital.

It had been over half a year since he’d last seen Qin Xuan, and nearly a full year since Ye Bao.

The three of them chatted on the street for as long as a stick of incense burns, but still had so much to say.

So they went to a nearby restaurant, ordered some food and wine, and kept talking.

Ye Bao had grown taller since the last time Gu Fangzhi saw him, the boyishness fading slightly from his features, giving him a more mature air.

He still liked to cross his arms over his chest in that classic arrogant dragon pose.
With that same confident expression, he teased Gu Fangzhi,  “So, what should I call you now? Your Majesty’s Consort? Or Lord Gu?”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He instantly broke out in goosebumps.

Gu Fangzhi liked going out, walking around, seeing new things.

And though he complained about work, he still genuinely enjoyed it.

So Pei Xin had allowed him to remain in the Ministry of Rites.

The officials and old Grand Tutor Sun had twice tried to say it wasn’t proper, but in Pei Xin’s words—

“He is propriety.”

Two months ago, He Rang had been transferred to the Ministry of Justice, and Gu Fangzhi had taken his place as Minister of Rites.

People had started calling him “Lord Gu” instead.

To Gu Fangzhi, holding that position felt a bit like successfully defending his university thesis, Thirty percent skill, ten percent luck… and sixty percent nonsense.

So every time someone addressed him as “Lord Gu,” he got goosebumps all over again.

 

And hearing people call him “Empress Consort” was even worse. It felt like being dunked into a vat of boiling oil.

Rubbing his arms, he said, “Kid, just call me by name.”

Ye Bao blinked. “…Kid?”

Gu Fangzhi said earnestly, “I said sapling. Like something that’s planted. You young people are the flowers of the nation, full of life and potential, you must be nurtured.”

Ye Bao: “……”

He gave him a look. “And that’s the kind of nonsense you feed the emperor too? He can stand it?”

Gu Fangzhi thought for a moment. “Apparently he can.”

After all, just last night, while telling Manman a bedtime story, he’d accidentally made one character simultaneously the murderer, the victim, and the detective’s assistant and Pei Xin, sitting beside him, had only pinched the bridge of his nose a few times.

Ye Bao: “……”

Impressive. Truly worthy of his loyalty,a man of patience and vision.

The three of them drank and talked late into the night.

Gu Fangzhi wasn’t a heavy drinker.

But the dishes were heavily seasoned, and he took a sip of the sweet rice wine to balance the salt, only to discover it was dangerously smooth and delicious.

By the time Pei Xin came to fetch him, Gu Fangzhi was thoroughly drunk.

Through hazy vision, he saw a hand reaching out from the carriage beside him.

That hand looked so much like Pei Xin’s hand.

He had always been drawn to certain parts of Pei Xin’s body, his hands, his neck, his voice, his ankles.

But most of all, his fingers.

The young emperor had beautiful hands: long, slender, pale, the faint veins visible beneath the skin.

Sometimes, when Pei Xin wrote memorials to the throne, Gu Fangzhi would just watch him, completely dazed.

While he was lost in thought, that hand beckoned him.

He looked up and really did see Pei Xin standing there.

The fragile restraint in his drunken mind snapped in that instant.

Relaxing, he finally let go of the money pouch he’d been clutching protectively.

The last thought he had before blacking out—

“Ah, great. Now I don’t have to worry about thieves.”

***

When he woke, the room was bright.

His head throbbed as if Snowball had been gnawing on it, though not literally, since Snowball was currently hopping all over his chest.

Dizzy, Gu Fangzhi pressed a hand to the dog’s head. “Stop it, stop it.”

Snowball began spinning in circles around him.

At the desk, Pei Xin turned at the commotion. “Awake?”

Gu Fangzhi propped himself up, then groaned and clutched his head.

Pei Xin called, voice sharp, “Yang Luhai.”

Yang Luhai came in carrying a tray with a bowl of hangover soup.

After drinking it, Gu Fangzhi felt a bit better and got up to wash.

Lifting the blanket, he realized his clothes had been changed, clean, fresh sleepwear, free of any alcohol scent, though faintly tinged with Pei Xin’s usual medicinal fragrance from hanging together.

He splashed his face with water, went to Pei Xin’s side, and asked, “What time is it? It’s so bright already.”

Pei Xin: “Noon.”

Gu Fangzhi froze. “Huh?”

It wasn’t a rest day, meaning he had skipped morning court.

He immediately opened the save menu, ready to reload, but Pei Xin said without turning, “Wouldn’t help. I called you several times, but you refused to wake.”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Pei Xin added, “Just say you were ill.”

Gu Fangzhi rubbed his forehead, conflicted. “…All right.”

His head still ached from the hangover, had he gone to court in that state, it would’ve been miserable anyway.

Yang Luhai brought lunch next.

Gu Fangzhi asked, “Will you eat with me?”

Pei Xin: “Already did.”

So Gu Fangzhi sat down to eat alone.

But he had no appetite. He propped his head on one hand, idly chewing at the side dishes, while watching Pei Xin’s back at the desk.

Something felt off.

Since he’d woken, Pei Xin’s attitude seemed colder… though maybe it was his imagination.

To test it, Gu Fangzhi called softly, “Your Majesty?”

Pei Xin didn’t look back. “Mm.”

“What are you reading?”

“Memorials.”

“Are there a lot today?”

“Not too many.”

“Then since you’re busy,” Gu Fangzhi said, “I’ll head to the Ministry in a bit.”

“…Oh.”

Pei Xin’s voice was quieter than before.

Then he added, “Qin Xuan and Ye Bao will be there too.”

Gu Fangzhi blinked.

Throughout the exchange, Pei Xin’s tone was calm, polite, distant, his voice flat, his expression unreadable.

Definitely not his usual self.

Gu Fangzhi set down his chopsticks and poked Pei Xin’s shoulder.

“Your Majesty, are you in a bad mood?”

Pei Xin wrote a large “Not to be read” across the memorial in front of him, then reached for the next one. “No.”

“Did someone make you angry?”

Another “Not to be read.” “No.”

“The ministers?”

Another stroke, “No.”

“Then… me?”

This time, Pei Xin wrote “Not to be read” again but didn’t say anything.

…So it was him.

But what had he done?

Gu Fangzhi pulled up a chair and sat beside him. “Is it because I went drinking last night? Because I got drunk? Honestly, that rice wine was too sweet, I didn’t think it had any alcohol…”

Pei Xin turned his head away, refusing to look.

Gu Fangzhi asked a few more questions, but Pei Xin’s demeanor stayed the salem quiet, cool, refusing to explain.

Gu Fangzhi leaned sideways, their noses almost touching, and pinched Pei Xin’s cheek.
“What’s wrong? Just because I went out with Qin Xuan and Ye Bao? You know that—”

That if he liked someone, he would always like them.

Just as he knew Pei Xin would always like him.

Pei Xin’s throat bobbed twice before he finally murmured,
“…It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Silence again.

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

He gave Pei Xin a whole lecture on the importance of communication, but Pei Xin still wouldn’t open his mouth.

Seeing that it was getting late, Gu Fangzhi pinched Pei Xin’s cheek gently.
“Then I’ll head to the Ministry first.”

After his shift ended, Gu Fangzhi returned to the Gu residence. The next morning, after court, he went to see Pei Xin, but Pei Xin was still angry.

Gu Fangzhi sighed.

He’d been drunk the other night and had no idea what exactly had happened while he was out cold. Even knowing that Pei Xin wasn’t the type to get mad without reason, even if he had done something wrong, the emperor’s refusal to communicate and insistence on sulking made even the simplest matter impossible to solve.

Now Gu Fangzhi was a little sulky himself.

He turned around. “Then I’ll go back.”

But he’d only taken two steps when an arm wrapped tightly around his waist from behind.

Strong, lean arms locked him firmly in place. No matter how he tried to move, he couldn’t take another step.

“It’s the seventeenth today,” Pei Xin said. “Teacher’s supposed to stay in the palace tonight.”

Ever since they’d gotten married, they’d fallen into a rhythm: Gu Fangzhi stayed at the palace on odd-numbered days, went home to the Gu residence on even-numbered ones. If Pei Xin was away or the palace was empty, he could come and go freely.

Gu Fangzhi said faintly, “I thought Your Majesty didn’t want to see me, didn’t even want to talk to me.”

The arms around his waist tightened slightly. Pei Xin’s voice lowered. “That’s not it.”

That night, when they went to bed, Gu Fangzhi lay facing the wall. Between them was a small, polite gap, not too far, not too close.

He didn’t say anything, but from behind came Pei Xin’s voice.

“Teacher.”

Pei Xin asked softly, “Are we making up?”

When Gu Fangzhi was a child, his friends would say things like ‘let’s make up’ or ‘we’re not friends anymore’ when they fought. As he grew older, he learned that adults didn’t say such things; people could reconcile even with grudges left unspoken, or sever ties without a word.

But right now, Pei Xin really did sound like a child again, the same way Gu Fangzhi remembered him from years ago.

Lost in thought, Gu Fangzhi didn’t reply. Pei Xin’s hand slipped out from under his own quilt, reached over, and wormed its way into Gu Fangzhi’s, fumbling until he found his hand and clasped it.

Gu Fangzhi tried to pull back once, but Pei Xin held on. His thumb rubbed lightly over the back of Gu Fangzhi’s hand.

“Ahh…”

Gu Fangzhi let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging out the last syllable.

“If Your Majesty wants to be angry, then be angry. If you want to give me the silent treatment, then give me the silent treatment. If you want to make up, then make up. Since when did I ever have a choice?”

Pei Xin: “……”

He didn’t speak again, but his grip on Gu Fangzhi’s hand grew tighter.

Gu Fangzhi was half-asleep when Pei Xin finally spoke.

“Teacher doesn’t remember?”

His tone was calm and even, but beneath it Gu Fangzhi could hear thick, unmistakable grievance.

“You called him little brat.”

“And you called him baby.”

Gu Fangzhi: “…………”

 …Ah?

So that’s what this was about. He must’ve been too drunk that night and out of sheer habit, he’d used Ye Bao’s in-game nickname.

Pei Xin said quietly, “Teacher’s never called me that. Shouldn’t I be upset?”

Gu Fangzhi: “……”

Ah.

Suddenly, he completely understood Pei Xin.

“You should be upset. You’re right,” Gu Fangzhi admitted immediately. “My fault.”

Pei Xin let out a small “hmph” and pursed his lips in the dark.

A grown man shouldn’t get jealous so easily, shouldn’t lose his temper over such a thing. But knowing that didn’t help; whenever he saw Gu Fangzhi, the sour feeling welled up all over again.

He’d held it in for two days before finally blurting out the reason.

Gu Fangzhi asked him gently, “Then does Your Majesty want me to call you like that too?”

Pei Xin said firmly, “Of course not.”

“Really not?”

“I’m not a child! Besides, that name’s already been used for someone else!”

“I see.” Gu Fangzhi smiled faintly. “Then I’ll give you one I’ve never used for anyone else.”

“What—”

Pei Xin had just opened his mouth when he felt Gu Fangzhi shift closer in the dark.

The faint sweetness of osmanthus brushed against his senses.

Soft lips pressed against his ear, and Gu Fangzhi whispered two words.

Pei Xin froze completely, his body went stiff, his mind blank, unable to react or speak.

It took him a long moment to come back to himself, realizing belatedly that his entire body felt feverishly warm.

Gu Fangzhi’s voice was low and amused. “How was that?”

Pei Xin gave a quiet, breathless laugh.

“The xiang was too soft,” he murmured, “and the gong at the end was a little shaky. You’ll need more practice.”

[“Xianggong” (相公) can have several meanings in Chinese, including “husband” (an old term), “lord” or “master,” and “young gentleman”]