BEGW C94

Chapter 94

The dense fog had not yet lifted, but chaotic hoofbeats rang out ahead.

Hidden within the mist, the Xuanjin Inspectors charged out at once, following the sounds and cutting down Duenli’s remaining men one by one.

Jiang Yuxun’s steps faltered. After a pause, he finally spoke softly,

“…I believe you.”

A light chuckle from the Son of Heaven pierced through the fog and reached Jiang Yuxun’s ears.

There was even a hint of satisfaction in it.

More than childish—this was childish to an almost unbelievable degree.

…

The arrow pierced straight through the throat of the man standing opposite Xing Zhi.

He lost all sound instantly and collapsed to the ground.

Blood sprayed violently from his neck, splattering across Xing Zhi’s face.

The thick stench of blood rushed toward him.

Xing Zhi had wandered alone through Zherou lands for some time, but as a merchant, he had never witnessed true war or death.

Only after a delayed realization of what had happened did his legs give out, and he crumpled to the ground.

If he had a choice, Xing Zhi naturally did not want to die.

Ignoring the foul blood on his face, now no longer a hostage in Duenli’s hands, he immediately began crawling away with both hands and feet.

The instinct to survive sharpened his focus. He judged direction by sound alone, inching forward with great difficulty.

Moments later, a white warhorse finally broke through the fog of the grasslands and appeared before him.

“Young Master Xing!” Jiang Yuxun’s voice came from horseback. As he spoke, he had already dismounted and hurried over, asking anxiously, “How do you feel? Are you hurt?”

Hearing the familiar voice, Xing Zhi finally relaxed.

“Cough, cough… I’m, I’m fine. I just… seem unable to stand.”

Even as he spoke, his voice trembled uncontrollably.

By then, the Xuanjin Inspectors had already finished cleaning up the battlefield.

The Dingwumu Vast Grasslands returned to silence.

Hoofbeats sounded behind Jiang Yuxun—Ying Changchuan had followed and stopped not far away.

Night had fully fallen, and the Xuanjin Inspectors lit their torches.

The fog still hadn’t dispersed, but with light, the surroundings became slightly clearer.

Jiang Yuxun saw that although there was a large amount of blood on Xing Zhi, it had clearly splashed onto him from elsewhere—he himself was not injured.

Seeing this, Jiang Yuxun finally let out a breath of relief and bent down to support Xing Zhi’s arm.

Only after confirming it was truly Jiang Yuxun did Xing Zhi—still not fully recovered from the danger—stare wide-eyed and mutter repeatedly,

“Lord Jiang… it’s Lord Jiang… I-I’m really still alive?”

“Of course you are. Young Master Xing, hold onto me and see if you can stand. Let’s leave here first.”

Once he realized his life was no longer in danger, Xing Zhi didn’t just fail to stand—he completely lost strength and sat down hard on the ground.

Jiang Yuxun hurriedly tugged at him.

“The nights on Dingwumu are extremely cold. Sitting here too long, you’ll definitely catch a chill.”

Though Xing Zhi had once been a pampered dandy, after traveling outside he had developed solid muscle.

He didn’t look heavy, but his weight was by no means light.

Jiang Yuxun pulled hard, yet still failed to lift him.

“Young Master Xing, wait a moment.” After speaking, Jiang Yuxun took a deep breath and grabbed Xing Zhi’s wrists with both hands.

But before he could pull him up, the man sitting on the ground suddenly gaped in terror.

“Y-Your Majesty?!”

The fog still hadn’t cleared. Only now did Xing Zhi realize that Ying Changchuan had been here all along.

—On a black warhorse, the emperor held the reins in one hand and a longbow in the other.

He lowered his gaze with a half-smile, slowly letting his eyes fall upon Jiang Yuxun’s hands.

The emperor’s gaze was sharp as a blade…

The Xing Zhi who had just been unable to move instantly braced himself on the ground and sprang to his feet.

Though he still didn’t know the relationship between Jiang Yuxun and Ying Changchuan, that single glance made him instinctively sense danger.

After standing, Xing Zhi hurriedly wiped his palms on his robe before raising his hands to his forehead in salute toward the man on horseback.

“Greetings, Your Majesty—”

The entire sequence was crisp and fluid, leaving Jiang Yuxun frozen in place.

So you can stand after all?

Scouts soon reported that King Qiuqi had already reached Gabel’s territory.

The other two Zherou factions were now mobilizing. It was only a matter of time before another large-scale war erupted.

Great Zhou would not remain idle here.

The day after Xing Zhi was rescued, reinforcement troops arrived.

Their primary purpose was to escort weapons.

—Previously, to move quickly and seize key positions, the Fulín Army and the Zhenbei Army that followed had carried only small trebuchets and some firearms.

Now, more powerful firearms had all been delivered to the camp.

Arriving with them were Fei Jinyuan, serving as Minister of the Lesser Treasury, and Zhuang Youli and others who had rushed over from Zhaodu.

Their main task was to regularly inventory the firearms and their components, register them meticulously, and confirm daily that nothing was missing.

This work seemed simple but was in fact critically important—it had to be handled by absolutely trustworthy people.

In the original history, once firearms were invented, they were monopolized by the Central Plains court.

Only after a war ended—when retreating enemy forces captured some Central Plains craftsmen and stole several firearms—did outsiders learn how to manufacture and use them, eventually replicating and deploying them in battle.

That history lay far in the future, but Jiang Yuxun had to ensure from every angle that it would never occur.

In addition, Zhuang Youli was also responsible for fire prevention.

This, too, could not afford the slightest oversight.

…

By the time the firearm inventory was fully completed, dinner time had long passed.

After a full day of work with Zhuang Youli and the others, Jiang Yuxun still hadn’t had time to check on the recuperating Xing Zhi.

Only after everything was done did the two of them finally head to Xing Zhi’s tent.

Duenli had spent the past few days fleeing, and Xing Zhi—taken hostage—had been dragged across the grasslands with him, going several days without sleep.

Thus, although Xing Zhi wasn’t injured, he was utterly exhausted.

After returning to camp the day before, he had collapsed into sleep.

He had only just woken up, washed, and freshened himself.

The camp cooks had set up a small private stove for him.

Jiang Yuxun and Zhuang Youli joined him for the meal.

After nightfall, the grasslands grew bitterly cold.

In the center of the small tent sat a brazier for roasting meat and a clay stove for warming wine.

The cook placed marinated meat on the brazier, seasoned it simply, then left.

Herbal-infused strong wine bubbled softly, and the fragrance of alcohol mixed with faint bitterness from the herbs, quickly filling the tent.

Xing Zhi swallowed reflexively, picked up his chopsticks, and reached for the meat.

Zhuang Youli, seated across from him, was startled.

“Young Master Xing, it’s not cooked yet!”

The lamb on the brazier was still pink, streaked faintly with blood.

Xing Zhi’s stomach growled audibly.

Embarrassed, he rubbed his belly and smiled awkwardly.

“I’ve been running around the grasslands with that Du fellow for days. I’ve barely eaten anything—I’m starving.”

Raw meat was hard to digest and could upset the stomach.

Worried Xing Zhi might grab it again, Jiang Yuxun—seated at the other end—changed the subject to distract him:

“Duenli’s men have been executed by the Xuanjin Inspectors, but his life has been spared—for now.”

Zhuang Youli poured wine from the clay stove while turning to ask,

“Why is that?”

Xing Zhi also looked over curiously.

Jiang Yuxun accepted the wine and nodded in thanks.

“Duenli knows the troop strengths of the three Zherou factions. What he says may not all be true, but when combined with what Young Master Xing previously uncovered, we can discern truth from falsehood. Besides… killing him outright would be letting him off too easily.”

Ying Changchuan’s intention was clear—

Bring Duenli back to Zhaodu, let him experience every punishment in the Xuanjin Inspectors’ facilities first, then execute him.

Both Xing Zhi and Zhuang Youli had heard terrifying rumors about the Xuanjin Inspectors.

Understanding Jiang Yuxun’s implication, they both broke out in goosebumps—yet felt only satisfaction.

“That’s exactly how it should be!”

“He absolutely must not be let off easy—”

As they spoke, the lamb on the brazier finally changed color.

Starving, Xing Zhi grabbed a piece and dropped it straight into his bowl.

The freshly roasted meat was scalding hot. The instant he bit into it, Xing Zhi sucked in a sharp breath.

He was about to grab the cup beside him when Jiang Yuxun raised a hand and stopped him.

“Young Master Xing, this wine is hot too!” Startled, Jiang Yuxun quickly poured him a cup of unheated liquor. “Drink this.”

Xing Zhi shot him a grateful look and downed the cup in one go.

By then, the lamb had cooled slightly.

After devouring several pieces, Xing Zhi finally remembered the matter at hand.

“Cough, cough…”

“Slow down,” Jiang Yuxun said.

Xing Zhi waved it off, inhaled deeply, and gradually sat upright.

“Before King Qiuqi marched south, I left King Dae’e’s territory. Before leaving, I managed to gather some useful information.”

Jiang Yuxun immediately looked up.

“What is it?”

Xing Zhi set down his cup and said seriously,

“King Dae’e’s lands were barely affected by the White Calamity, and news of Great Zhou’s disaster has already reached him.”

Jiang Yuxun nodded lightly.

Though hungry himself, he had completely forgotten about eating, focusing solely on Xing Zhi’s words.

The young man across from him grabbed another slice of meat, chewed twice, swallowed, then continued:

“He refused to help King Qiuqi not only because he covets Qiuqi’s pastures, but also because King Dae’e himself wants to invade Great Zhou while it’s weak.”

None of the three Zherou kings had abandoned thoughts of invasion.

Compared to King Qiuqi, the other two were simply more cautious.

In recent years, Great Zhou’s national strength had been rising at a visible pace.

King Dae’e’s sense of crisis grew by the day.

Upon learning of the southern disasters early this year, Dae’e—after years of restraint—could no longer hold back.

—Even if Qiuqi hadn’t acted first, Dae’e would have seized Qiuqi’s grasslands and continued south to attack Great Zhou.

Zhuang Youli sucked in a breath.

“Utterly overestimating himself! Did King Dae’e never consider what would happen if he lost?”

“Oh, he did,” Xing Zhi said sharply, suddenly animated.

He set his chopsticks down with a clack and lowered his voice.

“What I said so far probably isn’t surprising to Lord Jiang or His Majesty—but Lord Jiang may not know what escape route King Dae’e has prepared for himself.”

Jiang Yuxun already had a vague answer, but still asked softly,

“What?”

“Qiaoluo State.”

Just as expected.

Xing Zhi’s “escape route” closely matched original history.

King Dae’e’s territory bordered Qiaoluo.

If victorious, he would enter the Central Plains.

If defeated, he would immediately march west, seize Qiaoluo, and retreat there.

Zhuang Youli couldn’t help muttering,

“Shameless…”

Inside the tent, the roasting meat sizzled, giving off a faint burnt aroma.

“Ah—burning!” Xing Zhi hurriedly lifted the meat back into his bowl.

They shifted to lighter topics, chatting about the northern grasslands.

As Jiang Yuxun ate, he reflected on Xing Zhi’s words.

He trusted that Ying Changchuan had already prepared thoroughly.

Still, to be safe, Jiang Yuxun decided to confirm with him as soon as possible—whether troops had been secretly deployed near Qiaoluo, and whether interception plans were in place.

Unlike Jiang Yuxun, who knew his limits, Xing Zhi—having narrowly escaped death—kept drinking cup after cup, unconcerned about getting drunk.

He didn’t dare urge Jiang Yuxun to drink, instead turning to Zhuang Youli.

“Lord Zhuang, why aren’t you having more tonight?”

Though a dandy, Xing Zhi’s father was also one of the Nine Ministers like Zhuang Yue.

Living long in Zhaodu, Xing Zhi and Zhuang Youli weren’t close, but they had known each other for years.

Far from his parents, Zhuang Youli did want to drink—but remembering his responsibilities, he waved it off.

“I’ll pass. These next few days can’t afford any carelessness.”

Xing Zhi, who had slept all day, asked curiously,

“What has Lord Zhuang been busy with here lately?”

At the mention of firearms, Zhuang Youli sighed.

“You wouldn’t believe it—I smell gunpowder even in my dreams. All that runs through my head are numbers and the fire-prevention measures A-Xun taught me. Water bags, canteens, pumps—one after another invading my sleep. Thankfully, it’s Lord Fei on duty tonight, or I wouldn’t even have time to eat.”

“So you and Lord Fei will stay here the whole time?” Xing Zhi asked.

“Yes,” Zhuang Youli said seriously after sipping hot tea. “Lord Fei, myself, and several other officials will rotate shifts here. We absolutely cannot all disappear at once.”

What Zhuang Youli mentioned were all fire-prevention tools.

The grasslands were flat; many things weren’t needed.

To reduce baggage, they carried mostly animal-skin water bags.

Having personally witnessed the power of firearms, Zhuang Youli dared not be careless.

“I see…” Xing Zhi said regretfully. “It’s getting late—both of you should finish eating and rest soon.”

“No rush,” Zhuang Youli replied casually. “I don’t rotate duty until chen hour tomorrow.”

After speaking, he turned to Jiang Yuxun.

“What about you, A-Xun?”

Jiang Yuxun’s hand holding the chopsticks trembled.

…He didn’t have urgent matters tomorrow, but returning late might disturb Ying Changchuan.

Should he stay in the empty tent next door tonight instead?

“I…” Jiang Yuxun hesitated, about to nod—

When suddenly, an unfamiliar sound came from outside the tent.

A soldier saluted outside.

“Reporting! Lord Jiang, His Majesty has urgent business and requests that you see him in the main tent after finishing your meal.”

Urgent business?

Jiang Yuxun’s heart lifted instantly.

The words startled Zhuang Youli and Xing Zhi—and Jiang Yuxun immediately stood.

“Just a moment, I’ll go now—”

He nodded hurriedly to the two and lifted the felt curtain to leave.

Neither Zhuang Youli nor Xing Zhi tried to stop him.

Cold night wind rushed toward him.

The moment he stepped out, the faint scent of alcohol on him was swept away, clearing his head.

His steps suddenly slowed.

—Something wasn’t right.

If Ying Changchuan had urgent business, why tell him to finish eating first?

Was it urgent, or not?

Jiang Yuxun pressed his lips together. His heart settled back down.

He was certain—

Ying Changchuan had no “urgent business” at all.

“Why did Lord Jiang stop?”

Ying Changchuan’s voice came from nearby.

There was familiar amusement in it—no trace of urgency whatsoever.

I knew it…

Jiang Yuxun pulled his collar tighter, walked toward him, and bluntly exposed the lie:

“Your Majesty was deceiving me just now. There’s no urgent matter at all.”

Ying Changchuan’s skin was thick.

He gently patted Jiang Yuxun’s head and said righteously,

“If the emperor wishes to see his Shizhong, how could that not count as urgent?”

“…Besides, it’s already late.”

Standing upwind, he blocked all the cold grassland wind.

Ying Changchuan spoke slowly, drawing out the words “Shizhong” with unmistakable intimacy.

Hearing the title after so long, Jiang Yuxun’s heart fluttered lightly.

He protested,

“It’s not that late. Zhuang Youli and Xing Zhi haven’t even finished dinner.”

Ying Changchuan smiled faintly, lowering his gaze once more to Jiang Yuxun’s hair.

“You are different from them, my dear minister.”

Perhaps from spending too much time with Ying Changchuan—

Though he didn’t say it outright, Jiang Yuxun instantly understood.

He was different.

Because he had a boyfriend.

Jiang Yuxun: !!!

He had never associated Ying Changchuan with the word “boyfriend” before.

So the instant that word popped into his mind, his face flushed bright red without warning.

He immediately lowered his head, trying not to let Ying Changchuan see.

That word absolutely could not be spoken aloud!

…

Since arriving in the north, riding had become routine.

To avoid hassle, Jiang Yuxun wore narrow-sleeved robes and tied his long hair into a high ponytail.

As he lowered his head, soft black hair spilled over his shoulders like silk.

Static from friction clung the dark ribbon lightly to his back.

It outlined his slender waist with striking clarity.

Ying Changchuan’s gaze had fallen there without him realizing.

That ribbon seemed almost enchanted—constantly tempting him to place his hand there.

There were still soldiers on night watch in the distance.

The emperor slowly raised his hand, paused, and finally brushed the back of his hand lightly through Jiang Yuxun’s hair.

…What is he doing?

Jiang Yuxun’s body trembled faintly.

He pretended nothing had happened and continued forward.

The Zhenbei Army trained brutally and needed no last-minute sharpening.

Aside from patrols, most were already asleep, conserving strength.

Stars filled the sky; all was quiet.

As they spoke, they reached their tent.

Not wanting Ying Changchuan to notice his flushed face, Jiang Yuxun quickened his pace and pulled open the curtain first.

At that very moment, a strange sensation tugged at his hair.

Ying Changchuan’s fingers closed around the ribbon.

With a slight pull, he loosened it.

The black hair bound at the back spilled over Jiang Yuxun’s shoulders, the static-charged ribbon wrapping around the emperor’s hand.

As his hair fell free, Jiang Yuxun—just stepping into the tent—widened his eyes.

What is he doing?!

…Undoing my hair?!

Did he really not think this was childish, pointless, and utterly unbecoming of an emperor?!

Fuming, Jiang Yuxun turned around, reaching to snatch the ribbon back.

Under the moonlight, Ying Changchuan caught sight of Jiang Yuxun’s flushed cheeks—and mistook the color for anger.

Instead of restraining himself, he seized the chance and caught Jiang Yuxun’s right hand, asking softly,

“What’s A-Xun thinking? Are you angry?”

“Of course,” Jiang Yuxun said through clenched teeth as he struggled, “I’m thinking Your Majesty is really annoying.”

The tent hadn’t yet been lit; darkness enveloped them.

Without candlelight, the silence deepened.

Jiang Yuxun heard his own words far too clearly.

Something felt wrong.

…That tone was far too serious.

Saying “annoying” so earnestly—somehow, it sounded like sulking.

Jiang Yuxun realized it.

So did Ying Changchuan.

Not only did he not let go, he raised an eyebrow as if he hadn’t heard.

“What did you say just now, my dear minister?”

“…I said Your Majesty is very annoying.” Jiang Yuxun averted his gaze in agony.

“And whom does my dear minister find annoying?” Ying Changchuan’s smile only deepened.

Silence fell again.

After several breaths, Jiang Yuxun finally bit his lip hard and answered seriously,

“I find you annoying.”

Ying Changchuan’s lips curved upward once more.

Jiang Yuxun: …!

Ah—why did I say that?!

How is this any different from flirting?!

His face burned red.

“Oh?” Moonlight filtered through the felt curtain, illuminating those ash-gray eyes. Even after hearing “annoying” so many times, Ying Changchuan still wasn’t satisfied. He spoke slowly,

“Little Lord Jiang—”

But before he could finish, warmth and softness suddenly pressed against his lips.

Jiang Yuxun steeled his heart, stepped forward half a pace, and raised his left hand to gently cover the emperor’s mouth.

Enough. Don’t say any more.

The tent fell utterly silent.

After all these years, Jiang Yuxun finally understood what it meant to solve a problem at its root.

 

• 「天为被，地为席」 → “Heaven as quilt, earth as bed”: a classical phrase implying open-air intimacy; here it heightens embarrassment and taboo.
• 「白眼狼」 → “white-eyed wolf”: an idiom for someone treacherous and ungrateful, especially biting in political contexts.