BEGW C85

Chapter 85

With a soft creak, Jiang Yuxun cautiously leaned his head out.

The night wind swept threads of spring rain onto the tip of his nose.

His gaze slipped past Ying Changchuan’s shoulder toward the covered walkway—and he furtively glanced around, guilty and alert.

“There is no need to look,” Ying Changchuan said, lifting a hand to gently cover Jiang Yuxun’s eyes. “I have dismissed everyone outside.”

Although the Emperor disliked attendants lingering near him, there would still ordinarily be eunuchs stationed beneath the walkway outside Liuyun Hall.

Now, all of them had vanished. Only the sound of raindrops blooming against the ground remained.

The man before him wore dark inner garments, his black hair loosely draped behind him.

It was not Jiang Yuxun’s first time seeing him like this—

But tonight… he felt inexplicably different.

As though danger rippled faintly around him.

A damp breeze slipped into Jiang Yuxun’s collar, and the chill made him belatedly step back, giving the Emperor room to enter.

A distant palace lantern illuminated the small side chamber.

Borrowing that narrow beam of light, Jiang Yuxun cast a quick glance toward the bed, confirming that the incriminating booklet was still hidden.

Only then did he clear his throat, voice soft with guilt. “…Shall I fetch a pillow for Your Majesty?”

He hurriedly opened the wardrobe and pulled one out, clutching it to his chest.

Ying Changchuan closed the chamber door behind him and shook his head. “There are only the two of us here. You need not call me Your Majesty.”

The room dimmed once more.

Holding his pillow, Jiang Yuxun blinked. “…Then what should I call you?”

The moment he finished speaking, realization struck.

…Ying Changchuan wanted him to call him by his name?

Starlight seeped through the drizzling rain, filtering through silk curtains into the room.

Jiang Yuxun unconsciously kneaded the herb-filled pillow in his arms.

His heart thumped wildly again.

With the rustle of dried herbs beneath his fingers, he bit his lip and tried—hesitant, tentative:

“…Ying Changchuan?”

His voice turned soft, almost liquid with warmth—

Falling directly into the Emperor’s heart like spring rain.

After securing the doors and windows, Ying Changchuan approached. “Mm.”

Through the faint darkness, Jiang Yuxun could just make out the slight upward curve of his lips—clearly pleased.

Jiang Yuxun tried again, more boldly:

“…Ying Changchuan?”

Then, to his own surprise, he began laughing.

It wasn’t his first time calling the Emperor by name—

But now that the haze of last night had cleared, he suddenly realized what he was doing.

He—he was calling the Emperor by name right in front of him?!

How was this real?!

Ying Changchuan had already reached him.

He nodded again, utterly patient, faint amusement lingering on his lips. “Mm.”

Encouraged, Jiang Yuxun murmured his name two more times—

“Ying Changchuan, Ying Changcha—ah!”

A sudden shift of the wind drove raindrops hard against the windows.

Before he finished the last syllable, he was abruptly swept into the Emperor’s arms.

The next instant, he was pressed into the softness of the bed.

Though Ying Changchuan had not been drenched in the rain, standing outside had cooled his body.

Cold arms wrapped around him—

And Jiang Yuxun’s laughter vanished instantly.

Silence descended again.

This time, Jiang Yuxun could clearly hear the sound of both their breaths.

“There will be plenty of chances for you to call me that later,” Ying Changchuan murmured. He drew the pillow from Jiang Yuxun’s embrace and placed it aside, lowering his voice beside his ear. “It’s late. Does my little Lord Jiang not wish to rest?”

Those four words—little Lord Jiang—held a strange magic.

Heat rushed up his cheeks, and he thought involuntarily of the little booklet under the bed…

It was already nearly the hour of the Boar—far past his usual bedtime.

And now, when everything between them had changed… he certainly couldn’t lie awake talking policy with Ying Changchuan.

He instinctively edged backward. “Sleep. I’ll sleep now.”

He shut his eyes immediately, refusing to let anything else happen.

Rain continued tapping gently against the windows—

A steady lullaby.

After a full day of traveling between Pinghua Park and the capital, exhaustion had long settled in.

His heartbeat gradually calmed.

His taut nerves loosened one by one.

When he next regained awareness, he had rolled to the center of the bed.

The pillow had vanished—

And his cheek rested on Ying Changchuan’s arm.

Jiang Yuxun startled, reaching for the pillow—

But Ying Changchuan caught his hand. “No need.”

“…All right.”

Spring rain murmured softly outside.

Half-asleep, Jiang Yuxun heard the Emperor whisper at his ear:

“Move to my quarters for the next few days.”

Foggy-minded, he asked, “Why?”

The room fell quiet.

After a long while, the Emperor finally answered.

Half-dreaming, Jiang Yuxun only caught one phrase:

“…the bed is too small.”

The rest he promptly forgot.

The side chamber’s bed truly was narrow.

Thinking of the wall behind him—and his own habit of sprawling everywhere—

Jiang Yuxun suddenly found the Emperor rather considerate.

“…All right,” he whispered.

“A promise, then.”

“A promise…”

The spring rain stopped sometime past midnight.

Jiang Yuxun was already deeply asleep.

But Ying Changchuan—lying beside him—remained wide awake.

Resting on his side, he traced Jiang Yuxun’s sleeping features by starlight.

Then—

In sleep, Jiang Yuxun’s leg brushed against him.

The Emperor’s gaze darkened instantly.

The air in Xianyou Palace was chilled from the rain—

Yet even that coolness could not quench the heat stoking inside him, nor the surge of turbulent thoughts he had never known before.

…

Spring in Zhaodu was always brief.

After several showers, the air turned warm.

Courier riders galloped across the roads.

News from Zefang Commandery arrived in the capital.

“Your Majesty! A report from the Northern Garrison!” A soldier in light armor saluted and presented a sealed document.

“Read.”

Eunuch Sang hurried forward, wiped the report dry with silk, and handed it to the Emperor before withdrawing.

Only Jiang Yuxun, Ying Changchuan, and the officer remained.

Seated beside the Emperor, Jiang Yuxun could not help peeking at the report.

He had never been too keen on military affairs—

But ever since the White Calamity erupted in Zherou, anxiety had shadowed him.

Seeing his expression, Ying Changchuan spoke gently while reading:

“The blizzard in the north ended three days ago. By now, the snow should be melting.”

The officer bowed. “Yes. North of Zefang Commandery lies the territory of King Qiuqi of Zherou. Their losses were severe—more than half their cattle and sheep perished. This season should have been when fresh grass sprouted, but it has all been destroyed by the frost. The coming days will only grow more difficult.”

His voice tightened with worry.

Jiang Yuxun gripped his brush.

The White Calamity had struck mainly at Qiuqi’s lands, but the other two kings would also suffer.

They would have no strength to aid Qiuqi.

Already hostile to Great Zhou—and having provoked conflict just recently—Qiuqi would not remain patient for long.

After a moment, the Emperor said:

“Summon Qiao Yunping.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Qiao Yunping was currently the highest-ranking commander in the Fulin Army.

His elites were well-versed in cavalry tactics and firearms.

If the Emperor called him—

War preparations were beginning.

A drip of ink fell from Jiang Yuxun’s brush, marking the page.

His heartbeat faltered with it.

The long-expected day had come.

He had always known it would.

The war that should have erupted years ago had been delayed until now—

Yet even so, facing it directly still filled him with dread.

Footsteps approached.

Qiao Yunping and the others arrived at Liuyun Hall.

Jiang Yuxun lowered his gaze and turned the ink-stained page, then solemnly wrote down the date.

From Zhaodu to Zherou’s royal court, it only took three days on fast horses.

Orders were issued.

The finest cavalry forces and weaponry from the Fulin Army would be transferred to Zefang Commandery.

Once arrangements were complete, Jiang Yuxun’s superior—Minister Fei Jinyuan of the Lesser Treasury—arrived.

This time, he came carrying something.

The Zherou region was plagued with storms.

After nearly being trapped in the sands last time, Jiang Yuxun had requested improvements to the sinan—the ancient compass.

After months of work by countless craftsmen, the once clumsy, inaccurate device had been transformed.

The wooden compass now bore precise divisions of the four cardinal directions and markings of the twelve earthly branches—

And a central raised platform with a magnetic needle that always pointed south.

The museum he had worked in back in his past life had not possessed a sinan.

So he had limited knowledge of its construction.

He had thought the craftsmen would need much longer—

But their efficiency surpassed all expectations.

What Fei Jinyuan held was essentially the prototype of the compass that would exist a thousand years later.

He spoke excitedly:

“This device took over a year to design and craft. Dozens of artisans worked day and night. If it can aid us in war, their efforts will not be in vain.”

He moved around as he demonstrated.

No matter which direction he turned, the needle pointed true south.

When finished, he immediately presented it to the Emperor.

Then asked Jiang Yuxun:

“Is this what you envisioned? Anything to improve?”

To Jiang Yuxun, the compass—though simple—was already the best their era could achieve.

With it, even violent storms like the one before would no longer trap the Zhou army.

“It’s better than I imagined,” he said at once.

Ying Changchuan set the compass down and nodded.

Fei Jinyuan beamed. “Good! I shall have them begin producing more at once.”

He turned to go—

But Jiang Yuxun suddenly called out, “Lord Fei—wait.”

Fei paused. “Yes, Lord Jiang?”

Though nominally his superior, Fei no longer treated Jiang Yuxun as a subordinate.

Power had long shifted.

Smiling slightly, Jiang Yuxun said:

“Those who crafted this must be rewarded generously. Most importantly… record their names. Engrave them onto the devices they made. And—if possible—give me a copy of the list as well.”

His tone was solemn.

Fei understood at once.

He glanced instinctively toward the Emperor—

Only to see Ying Changchuan gently nodding.

The request was minor—

But one did not usually bypass the Emperor to issue orders.

Yet neither of the two in Liuyun Hall seemed to realize this.

Thinking of what his son had said recently, Fei felt a strange suspicion rise.

Could it truly be…?

“Very well,” he said with an awkward smile. “I will bring the list shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“A small matter.”

The compass was easy enough to produce, but due to secrecy, only the original artisans would craft it for now.

War had not yet broken out—

But the mobilization of the Fulin Army signaled inevitable change.

Fei did not dare delay.

He left quickly.

…

Within an incense stick’s time, the list arrived.

Liuyun Hall quieted after a long day.

Finished with the memorials, Jiang Yuxun copied names carefully.

At some point, Ying Changchuan sat beside him, gently brushing aside a strand of his hair.

“What are you doing, beloved minister?”

Without pausing his writing, Jiang Yuxun answered:

“I suddenly remembered… many innovations survive for thousands of years, yet their creators’ names are forgotten. It seems a pity. I want to record these craftsmen’s names—to leave something for future generations.”

History did not belong only to kings and generals—

It belonged to them as well.

The Emperor watched him—gaze softer than any spring breeze.

He nodded.

Liuyun Hall fell into peaceful quiet.

No attendants came to disturb the Emperor—

Yet he did not rest.

He simply sat beside Jiang Yuxun, silently reading each name with him, committing them to memory.

…

The Kahan envoys did not stay long.

The following morning, after official business was finished, Jiang Yuxun accompanied the Emperor to send them off.

Unlike their first visit, familiarity had softened everything.

The farewell ceremony was simple, almost relaxed.

Spring wind stirred the willows and carried faint floral scents.

Carriages filled with tea, silk, cotton, and strange trinkets lined the road.

As they neared the point of departure, Ruo’gu rode toward Jiang Yuxun, regret tinging his youthful voice.

“…I do not know when we shall meet again. If you ever come to Kahan, Lord Jiang, I shall guide you myself!”

His language skills had improved greatly.

Jiang Yuxun smiled. “If I have the chance, I will certainly accept Your Highness’s hospitality.”

He bowed deeply.

Ruo’gu grinned broadly and returned the salute. “I did not prepare proper gifts this time. When we meet again, I will make it up to you!”

Then he rejoined the procession.

Hooves thundered along the banks of the Yi River.

The line of riders stretched far into the horizon.

Jiang Yuxun watched until they disappeared beyond the sky—

Only then did he turn. “Let’s return to the palace.”

Zhuang Youli rode alongside him, still curious. “What special products does Kahan have? I wonder what Ruo’gu will send you next time.”

Ruo’gu’s gift…

Jiang Yuxun’s expression froze.

The booklet surfaced in his mind.

A terrible premonition struck.

He suddenly halted.

“What’s wrong, A’xun?” Zhuang Youli asked.

“…Nothing.”

But his voice tightened painfully.

Oh no. I forgot about the ‘gift’.

He had promised Ying Changchuan he would move into the main hall today.

And he—

Had let Eunuch Sang tidy his room.

Oh no—oh no—oh no.

If someone found the booklet—

That shame would be enough to kill him on the spot.

“…This is bad.”

Without warning, Jiang Yuxun slapped his horse and bolted toward Xianyou Palace.

Zhuang Youli blinked. “A’xun?!”

But Jiang Yuxun was already gone—

Radiating sheer doom.

The midday sun was harsh.

By the time he reached the palace, sweat dampened his forehead, stray strands of hair sticking to his cheeks.

He slipped into Liuyun Hall like a thief.

The palace attendants stood on either side and bowed.

Before they could greet him, he pressed a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

“Where is Eunuch Sang?”

Startled by his urgency, a young maid whispered, “He has gone to rest.”

“Did he… tidy my room?”

“Yes, my lord. It has already been done.”

Jiang Yuxun’s heart plummeted.

“I see…”

Steeling himself, he headed toward his room—

Forgetting entirely that the Emperor also rested at this hour.

The door opened from within.

Ying Changchuan stepped out, eyes catching the sweat on Jiang Yuxun’s brow.

He frowned. “Why is my beloved minister in such a rush?”

The old panic surged back.

Rigidly, Jiang Yuxun answered, “I… I wanted to check how Eunuch Sang arranged my room.”

His gaze darted wildly—the picture of guilt.

Ying Changchuan nodded as though believing him.

Jiang Yuxun forced himself to open the door.

Sunlight illuminated the tidy room.

Scrolls and books had been neatly stacked.

Jiang Yuxun scanned the entire space—

Then exhaled sharply.

…Eunuch Sang had not found the booklet.

But he had forgotten something critical—

He had no secrets in front of Ying Changchuan.

The Emperor stepped behind him, eyes falling onto the documents as well.

“What is it you seek?” he asked.

Jiang Yuxun: !!!

There it was.

His heart clenched painfully.

He tried to ease into it. “I’m looking for… the gift Prince Ruo’gu gave me.”

The moment he said it, a sliver of relief returned.

That answer was far more proper than saying a spring palace book.

But he couldn’t see the faint displeasure in the Emperor’s eyes.

“I did not know Ruo’gu had gifted you something…”

Ying Changchuan entered the room, quietly closing the door behind them, blocking the light.

The air thickened.

Jiang Yuxun’s pulse skipped.

Could it be—

Was Ying Changchuan… jealous?

Ruo’gu was just a boy!

He couldn’t possibly… right?

The Emperor lifted a lock of Jiang Yuxun’s hair and curled it around his finger.

Then he leaned close, voice quiet, meaningful:

“Oh? And what did His Highness Ruo’gu give you—

that made you so very nervous, my beloved minister?”