Chapter 15: The Mutt Needs a Lesson Part 1

Pei Jingyi’s arm tightened instinctively around the other man’s waist.

He hadn’t expected the treacherous Chancellor’s waist to be so slender. Beneath the thin layers of brocade, it felt as though he could snap it with a single hand, yet it wasn’t the softness of a man without bones. There was a hidden, wiry strength to him, and the feel of it was so inexplicably comfortable that it was hard to let go.

This realization sparked a sudden, inexplicable irritation in him. His grip tightened further, as if he were trying to crush something into pieces.

Gu Huaiyu looked up at him, the raindrops clinging to his lashes falling onto the back of the general’s hand. “Is General Pei taking this opportunity to exact revenge?”

Pei Jingyi stared at the face so close to his own. At this distance, he could clearly see the faint tear mole at the corner of Gu Huaiyu’s eye—like a single drop of ink fallen onto pristine snow, cold yet strikingly beautiful.

Gu Huaiyu’s body was freezing, yet his lips had turned a deeper, more vivid red, as if someone had pressed down on them heavily with a thumb, lending him an air of decadent, ruined elegance.

Pei Jingyi suddenly released him, retreating faster than if he were dodging an arrow. “The Chancellor misunderstands. I am simply heavy-handed by nature.”

Gu Huaiyu let out a cold sneer. There was no way he believed such nonsense; the mutt clearly needed to be broken in.

While they spoke, they arrived at the carriage.

Pei Jingyi held his outer robe aloft with one hand to shield Gu Huaiyu from the rain, while his other hand gripped the carriage frame, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. “Step here.”

Gu Huaiyu’s cloud-patterned boots tapped lightly against the general’s hand as he leveraged himself into the carriage. This was the same hand that had “leveled Mount Wu with three arrows,” and now it served as his footstool.

Huddled inside the carriage, Gu Huaiyu immediately wrapped himself in a thick blanket. He wiped the rain from his face; though his clothes weren’t soaked, the chill still bit deep into his bones.

By the time the carriage returned to the Chancellor’s Manor, the downpour showed no signs of stopping.

The main gates were thrown wide, and dozens of servants stood waiting on the steps with lanterns and umbrellas. The moment the carriage appeared, they swarmed forward.

Some held umbrellas, some laid down carpets, some carried blankets, and others brought hand-warmers. They worked in a frantic but silent bustle, afraid to make a sound lest they disturb their noble but notoriously difficult master.

The moment Gu Huaiyu stepped down, several oil-paper umbrellas opened in unison, shielding him from every angle.

As the hem of his brocade robe touched the ground, an attendant hurried to tuck it up. He didn’t have to take a single step into the mud as he walked through the gates.

“Quickly, quickly! His Lordship is most sensitive to the cold—”

“Wrap the blanket tighter! Bring another heater!”

“Move! Get the fox-fur cloak ready—”

Gu Huaiyu walked slowly into the manor over the carpets laid out by his servants. Not a single drop of rain touched him. Surrounded by seven or eight maids and pages, he was pampered as if a single draft of wind might shatter him.

Pei Jingyi stood in the heavy rain, water dripping from his clothes. As he watched this display of decadent extravagance, his lips curled into a mocking sneer.

He was about to turn and leave when Gu Huaiyu’s clear, cold voice drifted from the corridor. “General Pei.”

Pei Jingyi looked up.

Wrapped in a white fox-fur cloak, Gu Huaiyu stood amidst the crowd like a moon surrounded by stars, maintaining his lofty, arrogant posture. “There is no need for you to report to the Imperial Guard tomorrow.”

“Since you are so accustomed to acting as a foot soldier, you shall stay here in the Chancellor’s Manor and serve me from now on.”

Pei Jingyi ground his teeth, the irritation stinging like a raw nerve. Finally, he cupped his fists. “Understood.”

His knuckles cracked loudly as he squeezed his hands together. Since you’re so desperate for me to serve you, he thought savagely, just wait until you see exactly how I “serve” you.

***

At the same time, at the other end of East China Street, the residence of Grand Preceptor Dong was brightly lit.

Xie Shaoling carried a plain paper umbrella as he stepped through the flooded streets, raindrops splashing against his snow-white robes.

“Young Master Xie?”

The guards at the gate recognized him and immediately lowered their polearms, their faces breaking into smiles. “Coming to see the Grand Preceptor this late?”

Xie Shaoling gave a small nod, a rare solemnity clouding his features.

The guard caught his expression and hesitated. “The Grand Preceptor is meeting with guests in his study. He gave orders not to be disturbed…”

“It matters not.” Xie Shaoling interrupted him, his fingertips brushing against the manuscript wrapped in blue cloth hidden in his sleeve. “Go and tell him I have a matter concerning the Imperial Examinations.”

Seeing his grave expression, the guard didn’t dare delay and hurried inside.

Before long, the guard returned. “The Grand Preceptor invites Young Master Xie inside.”

Inside the study, the candlelight was brilliant. Several shadows sat behind a folding screen. As Xie Shaoling entered, seven or eight pairs of eyes turned toward him, each filled with a different emotion.

“Shaoling is here.”

Grand Preceptor Dong, though in his sixties, was still full of vigor. The white hair beneath his scholar’s cap made his expression seem even more authoritative. When he smiled, he projected the kind aura of a respected elder. “We were just discussing you with the other lords.”

Xie Shaoling’s gaze swept across the room: Censor-in-Chief Lord Cao, Hanlin Academician Lord Liang, and Vice-Minister of the Bureau of Military Affairs Lord Guan. These were the pillars of the Pure Stream faction. Their gathering here tonight was clearly no ordinary social call.

He had arrived at an inopportune time, seemingly stumbling into a significant conspiracy. However, since he had to enter the Tribute Academy for the exams tomorrow, if he didn’t speak now, there would be no other chance.

Lord Cao wore the kind expression of a man who valued talent, patting the empty chair beside him. “Shaoling, come, sit! Your Ode to the Mockery of the Cat was truly magnificent. I’ve read it three times and can still taste the brilliance of it!”

Lord Liang poured tea, smiling. “That ‘Gu the Cat’ is a narrow-minded wretch. If he saw it, he’d surely vomit blood!”

Lord Guan stood to greet him, his tone eager. “If Young Master Xie could write a Treatise on Slaying Traitors at the Qionglin Banquet, the whole world would be shaken!”