Chapter 12: “Beg This Lord Chancellor” Part 3

The man was at death’s door and yet he could still laugh. Pei Jingyi deliberately squeezed his throat further, staring into those peach-blossom eyes that were now hazy with a lack of oxygen. “You can try. Before they get in here, I’ll snap your neck.”

“Cough…”

Gu Huaiyu tilted his head back against the bookshelf, laughing even as he struggled for air. His pale Adam’s apple bobbed weakly under Pei Jingyi’s thumb.

Suddenly, he raised his voice: “Guards!”

The door was kicked open instantly by the Iron Eagle Guards. The sound of blades being drawn was sharp and rhythmic as a dozen swords pointed directly at Pei Jingyi.

Pei Jingyi’s fingers were locked around that fragile throat; he was only an inch away from taking Gu Huaiyu’s life. He gritted his teeth and hissed, “Do you want to die that badly?”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t want to die, of course; he was simply betting that Pei Jingyi wouldn’t dare. As expected, Pei Jingyi slowly loosened his grip.

The Iron Eagle Guards moved to seize Pei Jingyi, but Gu Huaiyu bent over, gasping for breath and coughing uncontrollably. “Stand down.”

He looked weak enough to collapse at any moment. He leaned against the bookshelf to steady himself. “This Lord Chancellor was merely sharing a joke with General Pei.”

The Iron Eagle Guards were wary of Pei Jingyi, but they had no choice but to obey. One by one, they sheathed their blades and retreated outside once more.

The glass lamp on the desk flickered.

Gu Huaiyu rubbed his throat and coughed, asking knowingly, “Is General Pei here to fulfill our wager?”

Pei Jingyi didn’t answer. He looked Gu Huaiyu up and down, his gaze now cold and analytical. “Looking like this, how many more years do you have left? What use do you have for military power?”

If there was anything Gu Huaiyu coveted from him, it was his prestige within the Northern Frontier Army. That army only trusted those named Pei; they only obeyed those named Pei.

He had guessed one part of it, but Gu Huaiyu didn’t just want his military power—he wanted to bleed him dry. He wanted both the fish and the bear’s paw. “What does that have to do with you? General Pei, you are a clay Buddha crossing a river—barely able to save yourself. Don’t worry about my well-being.”

Pei Jingyi lowered his eyes, his tone suddenly shifting to one of sincerity. “Chancellor Gu, do you know why the Northern Frontier Army only trusts the Pei family?”

Gu Huaiyu straightened his messy collar and sat down, watching him with interest.

Pei Jingyi took three steps back. His voice was unusually soft and calm. “In the thirteenth year of the Changping era, the Khan of Eastern Liao led his armies south. He broke through several cities and marched toward the capital. My father led three thousand remnants to hold the Huai River. The Khan sent a letter of surrender, promising to name him a King and reward him with ten thousand pieces of gold. My father executed the messenger on the spot.”

He paused, staring at Gu Huaiyu. “Would such a man collude with the enemy and commit treason?”

Gu Huaiyu offered a flat, emotionless critique. “Mmh. Truly touching.”

Pei Jingyi gritted his teeth, his voice laced with an unbelievable lethality. “Don’t you feel any guilt for framing such a man?”

Gu Huaiyu had no intention of truly branding Pei’s father a traitor; that would be a waste of resources for him. He brushed the fox fur on his collar. “This Chancellor has always believed Governor Pei was a man of supreme loyalty and a paragon of the state. I would never believe he would commit treason.”

His tone suddenly shifted, becoming slow and languid. “However—the common people your father died to protect might not think so. Today, he is a hero who defended the nation. Tomorrow, people might be spitting on his gravestone.”

He savored the cold, dark look on Pei Jingyi’s face. “How will the historians write of Governor Pei? Do you think they will write ‘traitor who sold his country’ or ‘loyal and righteous general’?”

Gu Huaiyu placed the power of choice into Pei Jingyi’s hands.

But Pei Jingyi had no choice at all.

Gu Huaiyu was in no hurry. He leaned back in his chair, watching the general with total composure, certain that the man had nowhere left to run. There was only one path: submission.

Thud!

Pei Jingyi’s knee hit the floor. He pressed his left hand over his heart in the formal salute of a soldier’s oath. “I am willing to become the Chancellor’s man.”

The words sounded as if they were ground out between shattered teeth, spat out with the scent of blood.

But Gu Huaiyu wasn’t satisfied. He pressed the tip of his official boot against Pei Jingyi’s chin, slowly forcing it upward. “Beg this Lord Chancellor.”

Pei Jingyi’s jaw tightened, but he ultimately lowered his gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. “I beg Chancellor Gu to take me in.”

Gu Huaiyu slid the tip of his boot down to the general’s throat, pressing slightly and forcing him to look up. “Why the long face? Is being my man such a grievance? Give me a smile.”

The veins in Pei Jingyi’s temples throbbed. A dark current swirled in the depths of his eyes, but he slowly pulled the corners of his mouth back.

It wasn’t a smile. it was the feral snarl of a wild beast baring its teeth.