BEGW C83

Chapter 83

Deep within the dense forest of Pinghua Park, a thick layer of pine needles carpeted the ground.

The horse’s hooves landed without making the slightest sound.

The mountains and woods fell into absolute silence.

For a moment, all Jiang Yuxun could hear was the roaring wind and the frantic thundering of his own heartbeat, as if it were about to burst through his chest.

He instinctively narrowed his eyes.

This was not the first time he had shared a saddle with Ying Changchuan.

But unlike the previous occasion, the soft leather cushion had now been replaced by the new arched saddle.

The wooden frame curved upward at both ends, forcing Jiang Yuxun’s body to press closely against Ying Changchuan’s.

Through the thin layers of spring clothing, Jiang Yuxun could feel the Emperor’s heartbeat, his breath—

And the firm contours of his chest, along with… other parts of him.

After a few breaths, realizing how tightly they were pressed together, Jiang Yuxun jerked upright as though scalded, subconsciously trying to put some distance between himself and the man behind him.

But before he could move even an inch away, the hand resting at his waist pressed him back firmly. “Do not move while riding.”

The black warhorse was racing through the forest.

Everything around them blurred into streaks of motion.

In such conditions, any movement could indeed be dangerous.

Ying Changchuan’s tone was calm as always, though the faint rasp in his voice cast an indescribable shade of meaning upon the words.

Jiang Yuxun tightened his grip on the horse’s mane. “Understood…”

The wild wind had long since unraveled the ponytail tied neatly at his nape.

His clothes were slightly disheveled as well.

Pinghua Park, though a royal hunting ground, was built amid rolling hills and untrimmed forest; it had cliffs, ravines, and winding paths.

The moment Jiang Yuxun spoke, he saw a thick pine branch stretching across the path ahead.

The black warhorse continued forward at full speed—the dense trees on both sides leaving no room to turn back.

He instinctively held his breath. “Your Majesty—watch out—”

A jolt of terror shot through him, and his heart plunged.

But in that very instant, a flash of cold light swept across his vision.

Crack!

Before he could process it, Ying Changchuan had already drawn the sword at his side and cleaved the branch cleanly with a single stroke.

“Do not fear,” the Emperor murmured beside his ear.

In that moment, the fear that had been gripping his heart fell away along with the shattered pine limb.

—With Ying Changchuan here, nothing would happen.

The horse ran faster and faster.

Birds and rare beasts released into the woods darted past them in fleeting shadows.

As the terror faded, an unfamiliar rush of exhilaration surged through him.

His hands gradually relaxed, sliding from the horse’s mane to rest lightly upon its warm neck.

He closed his eyes, letting the wind and the scent of the forest wash over him.

Last night’s rain had left the woods rich with the fragrance of damp earth.

A new gust blew by, carrying a strange floral scent—and behind him, the faint fragrance of ambergris that clung to the Emperor.

In his previous life, Jiang Yuxun had loved roller coasters.

Living in this world, he had almost forgotten such small joys.

Yet now, that same thrill stirred his heart once more.

Suddenly, Jiang Yuxun thought… riding with Ying Changchuan wasn’t so bad after all.

Feeling the relaxation in the body before him, Ying Changchuan asked softly, “You are no longer afraid?”

“No,” Jiang Yuxun shook his head, and before he could stop himself, added, “Could we go even faster?”

Only after the words left his mouth did he realize how his voice trembled with excitement.

Ying Changchuan couldn’t help but laugh quietly, lowering his gaze to the young man in his arms.

The horse’s stride lengthened; streams, trees, and animal shadows blurred into streaks of color flying past.

Just moments earlier, Jiang Yuxun had wanted nothing more than to dismount.

Now, he wanted to stay on the horse—racing aimlessly through the woods forever.

The wind flushed his cheeks, and his dark eyes sparkled like star-filled night skies, quiet yet brimming with boundless force.

His lashes fluttered lightly in the wind—

Brushing against Ying Changchuan’s heart like butterfly wings.

Focused wholly on the path ahead, Jiang Yuxun did not notice how the Emperor’s gaze deepened.

But the road always had an end.

When the stallion finally turned, Jiang Yuxun saw once more the tall tower rising at the northern edge of Pinghua Park.

A melody drifted through the forest—flutes and strings accompanying gentle singing.

“Luxuriant are the young shoots, there by the river islet…”*

Pinghua Park was large, but it was not an endless wilderness. Before long, they burst from the dense woods into open space.

The horse slowed, and the view widened.

Though still beneath the trees, the ground beneath their feet had become a soft green meadow.

Sunlight filtered through the branches, catching on the tender new grass.

A mountain spring murmured somewhere nearby.

Ying Changchuan dismounted, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jiang Yuxun followed.

Beneath the tall tower, the music continued.

“Lightly floats the willow boat, rising and sinking with the tide. Now that I behold my beloved gentleman, my heart is at ease…”*

The musicians played the ancient songs of Zhou.

Some later generations claimed it was music for noble banquets. Others said it was a love song.

Uneasily, Jiang Yuxun ground the soft grass beneath his foot and averted his eyes, trying to escape the increasingly ambiguous atmosphere.

But just as he turned, a white stallion trotted out of the forest toward him.

Startled, Jiang Yuxun exclaimed, “My horse actually followed us?”

He stepped forward to take the reins before it could stray.

Ying Changchuan glanced over, his tone mild. “The two horses are a matched pair. Naturally, it would follow.”

The flute’s song wove through earth and sky.

Jiang Yuxun’s grip tightened on the reins.

He lowered his gaze. “Your Majesty, it is getting late… Let us rejoin the others quickly.”

“Why the rush?” Ying Changchuan asked.

Though they had taken a longer route, their speed meant they were not late.

A breeze slipped through the treetops; leaves rustled, and the musicians’ distant singing softened.

“Luxuriant are the young shoots, there by the river shoal. Now that I behold my beloved gentleman, my heart rejoices…”*

His pulse quickened again—frighteningly so.

He stroked the horse’s neck. “If we linger, they will misunderstand.”

Ying Changchuan walked toward him step by step.

Instinctively, Jiang Yuxun stepped back—straight into the rough bark of a tree.

“What misunderstanding?” the Emperor asked with a raised brow, feigning innocence.

What else would they think?

Of course they would imagine something strange happening!

Jiang Yuxun, who had felt guilty moments ago, suddenly bristled.

Since there was no one else around, he lifted his chin, met the Emperor’s eyes, and said directly, “That we are… doing that sort of thing.”

Confident one second—scarlet the next.

His exposed skin flushed like a boiled shrimp.

All because of that little brat Ruo’gu!

Why did he have to make wild assumptions at such a young age?!

“Ahem…” Jiang Yuxun quickly looked away and tugged his horse forward. “Your Majesty, with envoys present today, it is best we not delay.”

The slanted sunset filtered through the dense canopy, brushing against Jiang Yuxun’s nose.

The colors of the forest deepened.

Ying Changchuan’s gaze settled upon his face.

Jiang Yuxun bit his lip anxiously—

A faint crescent-shaped mark of his teeth blooming upon the soft red.

The Emperor said nothing.

Instead, he stepped forward and blocked Jiang Yuxun’s path.

They stood less than half a foot apart.

Preparing to leave, Jiang Yuxun looked up in confusion. “Your Majesty?”

In those smoke-gray eyes, he saw his own reflection.

The wind seemed to stop.

The singing faded with it.

All he could hear was his breath and the frantic hammering of his heart.

He tried instinctively to step away—away from the danger he sensed.

But this time, Ying Changchuan did not give him the chance.

The moment Jiang Yuxun lifted his gaze—

The Emperor lowered his head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Clad in pale jade, Jiang Yuxun froze, eyes widening.

…

A faint coolness and silk-soft warmth brushed his skin.

The Emperor saw, from the corner of his eye, the way Jiang Yuxun flinched in nervousness.

Jiang Yuxun raised a hand, ready to push him away—yet the moment his fingers touched cloth, he slowly lowered it.

The corners of Ying Changchuan’s lips lifted.

His gaze traced slowly down from Jiang Yuxun’s cheek… settling upon his trembling lips.

Sensing danger, Jiang Yuxun abruptly turned aside, ending the kiss.

From the tower came renewed singing and laughter.

Ruo’gu’s group had gathered below.

“Let us go, Your Majesty—we cannot delay—” Flustered and red to the ears, Jiang Yuxun dropped the reins and strode toward the forest’s edge.

Ying Changchuan, as calm as ever, caught his wrist. “Wait.”

Startled, Jiang Yuxun asked, “What is it, Your Majesty?”

With a faint smile, the Emperor lowered his gaze to Jiang Yuxun’s collar. “Your clothing is still undone.”

His collar had come loose amid their earlier movement; the white silk draped open, revealing his inner garment.

Already blushing, Jiang Yuxun burned hotter.

Before he could fix it himself, Ying Changchuan reached out and straightened his clothes.

His movements were unfamiliar—but painstakingly careful.

Jiang Yuxun looked away, grumbling, “Has Your Majesty truly never liked anyone?”

Honestly—how could Ying Changchuan be this skilled?!

Having been misled by ‘history’ several times, Jiang Yuxun couldn’t help doubting.

The Emperor’s fingers paused.

He lowered his gaze to Jiang Yuxun.

And only then did Jiang Yuxun belatedly realize—

His question had sounded… a bit sour.

Ahhh!!

What was wrong with him?

Had he gone mad?

“Nothing—just pretend you didn’t hear—” Jiang Yuxun tried to flee the topic.

But the Emperor furrowed his brows thoughtfully.

After a moment, he said sincerely, “I have never taken notice of anyone else.”

He did not say “liked”—he said “noticed.”

Indeed… when had the Emperor ever cared for anyone?

Jiang Yuxun blinked, then nodded rapidly.

The musicians struck up a new melody.

“Lightly floats the willow boat, rising and sinking with the tide…”

Jiang Yuxun was just about to slip away—

When Ying Changchuan’s voice drifted softly to him through the wind:

“You are the only one in my eyes.”

The words scattered across his ear like falling feathers.

※

To avoid suspicion, Jiang Yuxun deliberately kept his distance from Ying Changchuan as they returned—one ahead, one behind.

By the time he led his horse to the tower, everyone had already gathered and begun drinking.

No one seemed to care about the earlier race anymore.

After handing his horse off to a soldier, Jiang Yuxun joined the group.

But the moment he sat down, the lively chatter quieted noticeably.

A few familiar officials glanced at him—and the laughter died as though someone had pressed pause.

Across from him, a Zhou official stared, eyes widening—

Before swallowing his mouthful of liquor with an audible gulp.

What… was happening?

Under their gazes, Jiang Yuxun felt increasingly uneasy.

He pressed a palm over his chest—

His clothes were straight, his hair tidy—so what were they staring at?

“Ahem! Drink!” Ruo’gu suddenly raised his cup. “Why did everyone stop?”

“Yes—drink!” The crowd snapped back to life.

The Kahan envoys lifted their cups. “These are fine spirits—waste them not!”

“Indeed—waste them not!”

Music resumed, and laughter swelled once more.

At this moment, Zhuang Youli—who had been working with his father on tax matters and had not gone to Ningping Granary—arrived at the park and was guided to the seat beside Jiang Yuxun.

Just as he lifted his cup, he paused, leaned over, and let out a puzzled “Hm?”

He tilted his head, staring.

“What is it?” Jiang Yuxun, unnerved, lifted his own cup awkwardly to hide his lips.

“…Strange,” Zhuang Youli murmured. “When A’xun left the palace this morning, you were wearing a ponytail. Why is your hair tied up now?”

He frowned, muttering, “Did I remember wrong…?”

Jiang Yuxun: “!!!”

So that’s why everyone was staring?!

He immediately touched the back of his head.

He had left with a ponytail—

But his hair was now neatly coiled.

No wonder everyone kept looking!

Earlier, when they were leaving the woods, Ying Changchuan suddenly stopped him and commented on his hair.

Jiang Yuxun had intended to fix it himself—

But the Emperor had calmly done it for him.

He refused to believe Ying Changchuan didn’t know what hairstyle he’d worn earlier.

That man had done it on purpose!

The banquet grew increasingly awkward for Jiang Yuxun.

Young Zhou officials kept drinking while stealing glances at his head.

Jiang Yuxun wanted nothing more than to run off and redo his hair.

Ying Changchuan—the culprit—continued speaking to the envoys as though nothing had happened.

The sky darkened, lanterns were lit, and stars covered the heavens—no moon in sight.

Starlight spilled above; wine shimmered below.

“Your Majesty, do you know what this wine is brewed from?” Ruo’gu asked, savoring his drink.

Instead of answering, the Emperor looked toward Jiang Yuxun. “You should ask Lord Jiang.”

Startled, Jiang Yuxun rose and bowed. “In reply, Your Highness: it is brewed from rice and glutinous rice together.”

He avoided the Emperor’s gaze.

Kahan did not grow rice, so Ruo’gu repeated curiously, “Rice and glutinous rice?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Jiang Yuxun explained what glutinous rice was and continued:

“The rice used for brewing comes from Haifeng rice of Shuolin Prefecture. It can be harvested quickly, grows even in poor soil, and in just a few seasons relieved the people of hunger—leaving enough surplus to brew wine.”

Haifeng rice could yield two or even three crops per year.

With good weather and improved tools, Shuolin had quickly escaped famine.

Other southern prefectures had also begun planting it.

Rice wine had a faint sourness, not as sweet as glutinous rice wine.

But mixing the two produced a unique flavor.

Ruo’gu nodded. “So the rice we ate at the palace was Haifeng rice?”

“Correct.”

Ruo’gu drank with even greater seriousness.

Music brightened; the atmosphere loosened.

Zhuang Youli chattered about the chaotic tax audits, but Jiang Yuxun’s mind drifted far, far away.

“…Father said the court will soon collect land tax and household tax. To do that, every family’s farmland must first be verified—we’ve been drowning in work…” Zhuang Youli sighed and drank deeply.

Though not the main official in charge, Jiang Yuxun frequently advised on tax matters.

Zhuang Youli wanted to discuss it—but Jiang Yuxun suddenly lifted his cup and drank.

“Mhm…”

He nodded as if responding—though he hadn’t heard a word.

“A’xun?” Zhuang Youli waved a hand before his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

Already misunderstood, Jiang Yuxun gave up resisting.

“Thinking about His Majesty.”

“Cough—!” Zhuang Youli choked and quickly glanced around.

Seeing no one nearby heard, he whispered, “What about His Majesty?”

Instead of answering, Jiang Yuxun took another sip and countered, “What do you think His Majesty and I… are now?”

His voice was soft, barely more than a murmur.

“Huh?” Zhuang Youli scratched his head, swaying slightly from drink. He blinked at Jiang Yuxun and whispered, bluntly confident, “Aren’t you two… a couple?”

Jiang Yuxun: “…”

Pinghua Park was essentially a detached palace, with no shortage of lodging.

By the time the banquet ended, it was late at night.

Officials were escorted home by eunuchs.

But Jiang Yuxun refused the help.

Instead, he climbed the tall tower alone, letting the cold wind hit his face.

He was not remotely sleepy.

Great Zhou buildings favored raised platforms; most of Xianyou Palace was built with layered earth and wooden frames.

This tower, at first glance, looked a hundred feet tall.

Half-drunk, Jiang Yuxun regretted the climb before reaching the top.

He sat on the stairs, propping his chin on his arm, staring vacantly at the night outside.

He wasn’t drunk—but the alcohol fuzzed his thoughts into a blur.

Only after a long time did he realize he couldn’t sit here forever.

Since he had already come…

He stood again, gripping the railing, and continued upward.

Yet just as he neared the top floor, he heard footsteps.

The wooden stairs creaked.

Jiang Yuxun hesitated, looked back—then sat down immediately as he saw the newcomer.

“…Your Majesty?” It was Ying Changchuan.

The Emperor had changed back into his usual crimson robe.

He ascended slowly and asked, “It is so late. Why has my beloved minister not gone to rest?”

Jiang Yuxun held the railing. “I wanted to feel the night wind.”

“The wind?” Ying Changchuan reached him. “Are you drunk?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so…”

The cold air cleared his mind slightly.

The Emperor hadn’t said much—but Jiang Yuxun had a strong feeling that he might scoop him up and carry him down.

The wind rattled the chimes beneath the eaves.

Suddenly, Jiang Yuxun stood from the steps and placed his hand upon the Emperor’s shoulder.

Their gazes aligned perfectly.

The Emperor placed his palm over the back of his hand. “What troubles you, my beloved minister?”

Thinking of the strange looks at the banquet and Zhuang Youli’s words—

Jiang Yuxun finally looked deeply into Ying Changchuan’s eyes and said softly, “Everyone thinks we are a couple.”

His heart pounded wildly.

Could Ying Changchuan hear it too?

The Emperor’s gaze darkened. “Yes.”

Though tipsy, Jiang Yuxun knew he was clear-headed now.

His fingers curled, gripping the Emperor’s robe.

He looked into those gray eyes and spoke solemnly:

“But only mutual affection makes a couple.”

Starlight spilled behind him.

The night wind stirred his sleeves, lifting him like a figure about to drift into the sky.

Ying Changchuan grasped his wrist—

Instinctively wanting to keep him close.

“Yes,” the Emperor said.

At that moment, his heart beat in tandem with the man before him.

Through those gray eyes, Jiang Yuxun saw himself—and saw the endless stars reflected within.

His chest tingled faintly, like soft feathers teasing the heart.

So… did he also like Ying Changchuan?

His pulse thudded loudly.

After a few breaths of silence, Jiang Yuxun leaned close, whispering beside the Emperor’s ear:

“I cannot lie to you.”

“Mm.” Ying Changchuan only needed to turn his head slightly to kiss him.

But he remained still—

Not daring to interrupt.

With the pounding of his heart in his ears—

Jiang Yuxun drew a deep breath and said softly:

“Ying Changchuan… ask me.”

“Ask me, and I will tell you everything.”

Footnotes

1. “菁菁者莪…” — From the Book of Songs (Shijing), traditionally interpreted as expressing longing or affection.

2. “泛泛楊舟…” — Another Shijing verse, often associated with reunion and emotional connection.