Chapter 53: Do Not Look Upon Impropriety Part 2

“…Why didn’t Yan Xinfeng come himself?”

This guy dared to call the Grand Marshal by name directly!

Cui Ming and Zheng Duo exchanged a glance, recalling the recent popular rumor.

They said a monster lived in the Grand Marshal’s tent, occupying it like a magpie in a nest, scaring the Grand Marshal so much he couldn’t return and had to send him to tend horses as a countermeasure.

Now it seemed the rumors were nonsense, but there was some truth to them.

The monster was very good-looking and capable.

Zheng Duo cleared his throat, still booming. “The Grand Marshal has myriad affairs; how could he handle such a trifle personally? Come with us quickly!”

Wei Tingxia’s ears hurt from their noise.

“Fine, fine, I got it,” he stood up. “You two wait a moment; I’ll pack and go with you.”

Cui Ming: “Hurry up.”

Zheng Duo: “One incense stick’s time.”

With that, they left the back of the tent in sync, waiting by the screen.

Wei Tingxia changed clothes.

System 0188: [Is he really that busy?]

It was currently the truce period, and in a few more days, the army would return to Border City. Yan Xinfeng should not have been so busy.

Wei Tingxia snorted with a laugh upon hearing this. “Can’t you tell? He’s avoiding me.”

He had even been sent off to tend to the horses. How interesting.

Wei Tingxia paced back and forth by the bedside, pondering what he could take with him. He had arrived alone, bringing only his illnesses and clothes that he did not even know where he had lost. Now that he was moving to the horse pastures, he would surely go empty-handed.

But Wei Tingxia felt that would be too lacking in presence.

So after thinking for two seconds, his gaze fell on the bed.

…

After his personal guard reported that Wei Tingxia had left the tent, Yan Xinfeng said nothing and rose to leave Pei Zhou’s tent.

Pei Zhou, who had slept on the ground for a night, rolled his shoulders and followed behind with a look of enjoying the show. Along the way, he did not forget to jab at Yan Xinfeng a few times.

“I asked around. There’s a Daoist in Fu City who’s said to be first-rate at catching ghosts. Later, I’ll send someone to invite him over to exorcise the demonic aura from your tent so you can sleep well at night.”

Yan Xinfeng turned back and glared at him, his tone categorical. “He’s not a demon.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Pei Zhou shrugged, laughing casually. “Pretty and ruthless people all carry a bit of demonic aura, not to mention how clever he is.”

Even if Wei Tingxia was not a demon, he was more capable than those beastly things.

The two entered Yan Xinfeng’s command tent one after the other.

The tent was quiet inside, with a faint, lingering scent of medicinal herbs belonging to Wei Tingxia. Yan Xinfeng walked straight past that familiar screen into the inner chamber.

Then, there was no sound.

Pei Zhou waited outside for a while, hearing only dead silence within, not even the rustle of clothing.

He raised a brow, muttering to himself in confusion, wondering what this was all about. Could Wei Tingxia really be a demon releasing aura to seize hearts and minds?

Unable to suppress his curiosity, he also circled past the screen and went in.

He saw that the inner tent was clean and simple. Yan Xinfeng stood rigidly before the bed with his back to him, like a statue that had suddenly frozen.

From Pei Zhou’s angle, he could see Yan Xinfeng’s gaze locked dead on the bed, his entire body emanating an aura of incredulous shock and bewildered helplessness.

What kind of demon could reduce Yan Xinfeng to this state?

Pei Zhou followed his line of sight—

The bed, which had been neatly made before, was now strikingly empty. The place where the bedding should have been folded was bare, leaving only the naked bed frame.

The only proof that bedding had once been there was a single, lonely pillow.

Pei Zhou: “What happened to this bed?”

“…”

Yan Xinfeng remained silent. Time seemed to stretch on, the tent filled only with the two men’s faint breathing.

After a long while—so long that Pei Zhou thought he would not answer—a very low, heavy intake of breath came from ahead.

Then came Yan Xinfeng’s voice, squeezed out through gritted teeth with an almost absurd calm.

“He…”

Yan Xinfeng paused, as if confirming this outrageous fact. “…took my bedding with him.”

Each word was clear and steady, yet it landed like a heavy hammer in the silence, carrying a bewilderment of being utterly emptied out.

Not satisfied, he added after two seconds of quiet: “That was my quilt… He took my bedding with him…”

Pei Zhou: “…”

He looked at the bare bed frame, then at Yan Xinfeng’s stiff back, and at the immense impact hidden beneath that calm statement.

This was too ridiculous. He left, fine, but why take the bedding too?

Just bullying Yan Xinfeng alone, huh?

“Uh,” he scratched his head, trying to comfort his good brother. “How about I get it back for you?”

Yan Xinfeng turned his head to look at him, his eyes pitch black. “How?”

Pei Zhou: “…”

Yeah, how?

Was he, the dignified Marching Sima, supposed to go ask for the Grand Marshal’s bedding? If word got out, they’d be laughed to death.

This matter could not be made public; it had to be tightly covered up.

Pei Zhou was out of ideas. Meeting Yan Xinfeng’s gaze, his mouth twitched wildly, but under the threat, he could only forcibly suppress it. “I actually kind of want to laugh.”

“You dare laugh,” Yan Xinfeng said flatly, “and I’ll tie you to the training grounds.”

At those words, Pei Zhou’s mouth instantly straightened. “Not laughing. What’s so funny?”

He coughed, adopting a serious posture. “I’ll go find you a new set of bedding.”

With that, without waiting for Yan Xinfeng’s reaction, he slipped out of the tent like smoke, leaving Yan Xinfeng alone to stare blankly at the bed.

…

Meanwhile, the three heading to the horse pastures split into two groups. Wei Tingxia walked ahead, with Cui Ming and Zheng Duo following behind.

The two messengers could not help exchanging a glance after just a few steps, conveying with their eyes words only they understood.

Cui Ming: That’s the Grand Marshal’s bedding, right?

Zheng Duo: Definitely.

Cui Ming: He took the Grand Marshal’s bedding.

Zheng Duo: No doubt about it.

The exchange paused, and both looked ahead at the same time.

Wei Tingxia, shouldering the bedding, strolled leisurely along the path. The distant whinnies of horses were already audible. The bedding was quite long; when slung over his shoulder, both ends nearly dragged on the ground, swaying with his steps.

Wei Tingxia walked with the smug satisfaction of a bandit who had successfully robbed and fled after a fight. Cui Ming and Zheng Duo each carried a small bundle behind him, containing Wei Tingxia’s spare clothes.

Zheng Duo looked at Cui Ming again: Why didn’t you stop him?

Cui Ming: I didn’t dare. Did you?

Zheng Duo: …

He did not dare either.

The Profound North Army had few new recruits, but they both happened to have joined last year, so they knew little of past events. They had occasionally heard old soldiers bragging, so they were not entirely ignorant of Wei Tingxia.

He was a beautiful and ruthless figure. His peak feat was burning through the Shuo Kingdom’s camp in one fire, after which the enemy commander’s head was hung from a flagpole by him and left to bake in the sun for three full days.

His military rank was not high, but he was deeply trusted by the Grand Marshal. The two shared complete trust, each other in their hearts.

If not for the Grand Marshal falling gravely ill two years ago…

The two did not dwell on it further. They followed Wei Tingxia to the tent prepared near the horse pastures, set down their bundles, and watched as he tossed the bedding onto the bed.

Zheng Duo nudged Cui Ming with his elbow, and the two shouted loudly: “Stick to your duties, redeem yourself earnestly, and tame those warhorses soon!”

Worthy of being messengers, that shout made Wei Tingxia’s shoulders tremble. He turned back, looking at their two equally resolute and serious faces with exceptionally complex eyes.

“Got it,” he nodded. “I’ll take it seriously.”

…

Wei Tingxia tossed the bedding on the bed but did not immediately go to the pastures.

He stepped out of the tent and, following the agitated whinnies of the warhorses, circled the perimeter of the horse pastures once.

A few soldiers tending the horses noticed him, their eyes carrying awkwardness and curiosity. Wei Tingxia nodded casually, his gaze turning to the depths of the pastures.

The newly arrived warhorses were indeed restless, pawing the ground and snorting, resisting approaching soldiers. They occasionally tried to leap the fences, only to be held back by restraining ropes.

The whinnies were chaotic, already affecting the Da Zhao warhorses in the adjacent pastures. Several untrained ones paced restlessly back and forth, in dire need of calming.

Wei Tingxia watched for a while, his face expressionless. He did not approach or speak, but after a brief moment of thought, he turned and returned to the tent.

A horse tamer’s tent was naturally not as spacious and bright as the Grand Marshal’s. It was small, but fully equipped with everything needed.

Wei Tingxia poured some water and sat on the bed, sipping it slowly while pondering horse training and all sorts of other messy matters.

In the middle, soldiers outside delivered food, their shouts and the clatter of bowls and dishes creating a noisy din.

System 0188 asked if he wanted to eat something. Wei Tingxia shook his head, the motion itself carrying a sense of weary lethargy.

His body had only just recovered, and he still had no strength throughout. His spirits were poor too; walking a few steps tired him, and keeping his eyes open longer made him drowsy. He felt as if he had just been fished out of water, utterly drained.

No point eating since he would just vomit it up anyway. Better to save his energy and sit quietly.

System 0188 fell silent.

When the sunlight finally sank, Wei Tingxia pondered in the dimness for a long time and finally had some idea.

With his mind settled, he kicked off his shoes, pulled over the quilt to wrap himself, rolled over facing inward, and hoarsely instructed System 0188 to wake him early tomorrow. With that said, he went still and fell into a deep sleep.

However, not long after he slept, in that half-dreaming, half-awake state, a clear sound of hooves striking the ground penetrated the tent curtain, rousing Wei Tingxia.

Clop… clop…

Clop clop…

The sound was right near the entrance, pacing steadily and rhythmically back and forth.

Wei Tingxia opened his eyes.

Deep into the night, no soldiers would come, and warhorses did not move like this.

He threw off the quilt, sat up, grabbed his outer robe and draped it on, then lifted the door curtain.

Under the cold moonlight, an exceptionally tall and handsome black horse stood before the tent.

This horse’s build far exceeded that of ordinary warhorses. Its shoulders and back were broad, its limbs long and sturdy, its bowl-sized hooves solidly planted, carrying a heavy presence.

Even more distinctive were its eyes—calm and steady, with little feral nature. Even gathering the finest horses from Da Zhao and Shuo Kingdom, few could match it.

Wei Tingxia recognized this horse.

It was Yan Xinfeng’s horse, and the king of all horses in the Profound North Army camp.

The black horse saw him emerge and gave a soft snort, its front hooves stepping forward naturally as it drew closer.

Its massive head probed slightly toward the tent interior, nostrils flaring as it clearly scented its master’s presence on the bedding. Its face leaned intimately close to Wei Tingxia’s neck in greeting.

Wei Tingxia watched its friendly posture and, after a moment of silence, raised a hand to pat the smooth side of the black horse’s neck.

“Ruo Chi,” his voice was somewhat low. “Why are you here?”

Ruo Chi did not answer, merely rubbing its head gently against his outstretched hand, its eyes still fixed on the bedding inside the tent.