Under the guise of giving the Emperor a lesson, he broke down every major and minor affair of the capital, explaining everything in meticulous detail.
Inside the Hall of Chaste Government, it was silent. Only he and Yuan Zhuo remained in the vast hall.
Normally, when a Grand Preceptor taught the Emperor, he would stand with his hands lowered in attendance. But with Gu Huaiyu, it was the opposite—his willingness to offer guidance was already considered a heavenly grace.
Yuan Zhuo didn’t dare sit. He stood properly before the imperial desk, not daring to relax for a moment.
Meanwhile, Gu Huaiyu leaned casually against the Dragon Couch. The booklets spread out on the imperial desk were written by him overnight, filled with dense, small regular script detailing the critical affairs of each province.
He tapped the corner of a page with his fingertip and said nonchalantly, “Although the court is filled with my people now, Your Majesty must not trust them implicitly. If you can believe half of what these officials say, it is already a miracle. You must still send your own people to investigate secretly.”
Yuan Zhuo looked up, staring at him without blinking. “I understand.”
Gu Huaiyu flipped a page. Names circled in cinnabar red were particularly striking against the rice paper.
He pressed his finger heavily on a certain section. “These transport, salt, and iron officials were all sold their positions by me originally.”
“The ones circled are greedy, bottomless pits. I don’t have time to deal with them personally. Your Majesty should find a pretext—” He made a light slicing motion across his neck. “—and handle them.”
Yuan Zhuo was no longer the indecisive boy-emperor of the past. Knowing that Gu Huaiyu was helping him establish his own authority, he straightened his back and said, “I will not fail your trust.”
Gu Huaiyu raised an eyebrow, only to see that the little beast didn’t look away this time. Instead, he met Gu Huaiyu’s gaze with burning intensity.
He closed the booklet and handed it forward, asking playfully, “Why does Your Majesty keep staring at me? Is there writing on my face?”
Yuan Zhuo took the booklet with both hands, but his eyes remained glued to Gu Huaiyu’s face. “You will be gone for years. I won’t see you for a long time… naturally, I must look a few more times to carve your image into my heart.”
Gu Huaiyu felt a slight warmth in his chest. After all, there was an inseparable “father-son” bond between them. “If Your Majesty misses me, just write a letter.”
Yuan Zhuo clutched the booklet tightly to his chest, his crown remaining perfectly still as he shook his head. “Once the war begins, the courier routes must be reserved for military use. I cannot delay the affairs of the state for my own personal feelings.”
This truly pleased Gu Huaiyu. The boy finally had the air of an Emperor, allowing him to feel at ease entrusting the capital to him.
Having stayed up until the third watch writing the booklets last night, exhaustion now washed over him. He leaned his body back against the Dragon Couch. “Your Majesty should read the booklets first. I will take a short nap. If there is anything you don’t understand…”
Before he could finish, he covered his mouth and yawned. “…ask me when I wake up.”
Yuan Zhuo softly untied his Dragon Robe outer garment and carefully draped it over Gu Huaiyu’s knees. “The spring chill has not yet faded. Be careful not to catch a cold.”
This “filial” display made Gu Huaiyu feel comfortable. He gave a muffled “mm” with his eyes closed. Accompanied by the rustling sound of Yuan Zhuo flipping through the pages, his breathing gradually became long and steady as he fell into a peaceful sleep on the sovereign’s Dragon Couch.
Listening to the even breathing, Yuan Zhuo felt a peace in his heart like never before.
When he was young, Gu Huaiyu would teach him to read and write. When tired, the man would nap by his bed. Yuan Zhuo used to write while listening to that breathing mixed with the scratching of the brush, feeling that even if the sky fell, he wouldn’t be afraid.
Now, the person on the couch was sleeping soundly, and in his own hands was the booklet that analyzed every detail, handing over the power of the capital without reservation.
Yuan Zhuo traced the handwriting that seemed to pierce through the paper, memorizing every point.
The water clock ticked; the incense burner emitted curls of smoke.
After an unknown amount of time, the sun began to shine on a corner of the imperial desk.
Yuan Zhuo finished the booklet without missing a single point. Gu Huaiyu had not yet woken. His face was pressed against a brocade pillow, and his loose black hair covered half of his eyes, revealing only a bit of snowy skin and vivid lips.
Yuan Zhuo stared for a long time before calling out in a low voice: “Huaiyu Gege…”
Gu Huaiyu was in a deep sleep and only gave a blurry “mm,” showing no signs of waking.
Yuan Zhuo wished he could stay like this forever. He simply knelt by the Dragon Couch, resting his chin on his arm as he gazed silently.
The Dragon Couch wasn’t exactly meant for sleeping, and Gu Huaiyu seemed restless. His long legs couldn’t fully stretch out, and in his daze, he rolled over. His calf hung off the edge of the couch, and the Dragon Robe covering his knees slid to the floor.
Yuan Zhuo picked up the robe to cover him again, but his gaze fell upon the cloud-patterned official boots. He reached out to support the heel, his fingertips deftly untying the silk laces.
Gu Huaiyu let out a lazy hum and actually cooperated by lifting his ankle, allowing the boot to be removed.
