Chapter 25: Not a Dog on a Leash Part 3

Seeing him staring at the corner, Liu Erlang pursed his lips. “Don’t misunderstand. The Chancellor only does this for their own good. If not for—”

“I know.”

Pei Jingyi cut him off and began walking with long, swift strides.

Liu Erlang had to jog to keep up. The General’s back was as straight as a pine tree, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, as if he were grinding some emotion into the cobblestones.

He walked so fast that Liu Erlang had to shout, “Slow down! The Chancellor’s sedan chair is just around the next corner!”

Pei Jingyi didn’t seem to hear him. In fact, he walked even faster.

He wasn’t a scholar like Shen Jun, nor was he an idealistic judge like Nie Jin. He was a man who had truly seen mountains of corpses and seas of blood. He knew what the world looked like when a city fell.

Years ago, when the Northern Frontier Army reclaimed Liangzhou, the city was in ruins. The winter coats sent by the court had barely arrived at the magistrate’s office before they were looted by local gentry. The warehouse ledgers, however, remained perfect.

Those coats were turned for profit in the markets or hidden in private stores. To this day, no one knew whose pockets that silver ended up in.

The actual victims hadn’t even touched a scrap of fabric. They could only huddle in the snow wrapped in straw mats, freezing into rigid, frozen corpses.

If they had encountered a man like Gu Huaiyu back then… they probably wouldn’t have died.

How could a pampered civil official think of these things?

More importantly, it didn’t seem like something a “treacherous official” who rose to power through backroom deals would bother with.

Gu Huaiyu’s sedan chair was parked at the end of the street, surrounded by Iron Eagle Guards in civilian clothes.

He leaned lazily inside the carriage, his snow-white mink shawl slipping off one shoulder to reveal the cinnabar-red lining beneath. One hand held the curtain aside as he spoke softly to Shen Jun.

Shen Jun leaned in, listening with a devotion that bordered on the sacred.

Pei Jingyi slowed his pace, stopping three steps away. The man in the sedan was pale, almost sickly, yet his lips were a vivid, startling red.

“Keep a close watch on Grand Preceptor Dong’s side,” Gu Huaiyu said, his voice low and steady. “He will certainly use the refugees to stir up trouble.”

“Should we arrest a few first?” Shen Jun asked. “To serve as a warning?”

“No need. Let them make their move.” Gu Huaiyu gave a soft chuckle. “If they want to stir up a storm, give them the wind. I will decide how the waves break.”

The voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. Beneath that unhurried tone was an instinctive need for control; even the pauses in his breath felt calculated.

It wasn’t a forced majesty, but an aura honed by years of wielding power. There was no room for anything but obedience.

Gu Huaiyu suddenly looked up. His dark pupils locked onto Pei Jingyi with perfect accuracy. His lips curled slightly, and he crooked a finger lazily.

“Come here.”

In the past, Pei Jingyi hated that gesture. He wasn’t some dog Gu Huaiyu had raised on a leash.

But this time, as if possessed, he stepped forward. He braced one hand against the edge of the window and leaned in close—so close he could see his own reflection in Gu Huaiyu’s eyes. “What are your instructions, Chancellor?”

Noticing the change in address, Gu Huaiyu scanned his face slowly. “Is General Pei’s tongue no longer so precious?”

Pei Jingyi reached a hand into the sedan, taking the slipping mink fur and tucking it back under Gu’s chin. “Not as precious as your health, Chancellor.”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t believe in ghosts, or else he’d have thought Pei was possessed. Usually, the man would take every opportunity to say things he hated to hear.

He stared at Pei Jingyi for several long moments, searching for something.

Pei Jingyi felt his ears grow hot under the scrutiny. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Gu Huaiyu’s gaze swept over his cheeks. “There are words. Did you forget?”

Pei’s expression stiffened for a second. He touched his cheek. “Thanks to you, Chancellor, the maids in the manor avoid me like the plague now. They think I’m some kind of lecherous beast.”

Gu Huaiyu thought: Didn’t you bring that on yourself?

Pei Jingyi leaned in even closer, his voice a low growl. “You’ve ruined my reputation with that stunt. Who would dare marry me now?”

Gu Huaiyu gave him a bored look. “Am I now expected to find you a wife as well?”

“Chancellor!”

Shen Jun finally reached his limit with the escalating tension. “It is time to return. You haven’t taken your medicine yet today.”

Gu Huaiyu let the curtain fall and leaned back. “Return to the manor.”

Pei Jingyi straightened up, his gaze turning sharp and cold as he glared at Shen Jun.

Shen Jun only offered a slight, knowing smile in return.