Chapter 63: The Daoist Part 1

At the same time, Prince Chen Li Ji simply couldn’t believe what he had heard.

A woman who liked wielding big hammers was one thing, but now even men?

The Northern Border was bitterly cold—could it really change people’s hearts like that?

After the messenger left, he paced back and forth with hands on his hips for several circles, completely unable to figure it out.

“Could it be that the Emperor deliberately released this news to fool me?”

No matter what, he couldn’t imagine Yan Xinfeng liking men. His impression of this Yunzhong Marquis was quite deep. He had often seen him as a child at the Empress Dowager’s side—a skinny little kid with a face as pale as paper, as if a gust of wind would blow him over.

Later, on the battlefield, his demeanor had changed dramatically. In his speech and actions, he carried the style of the Old Marquis, honed through millions of battles into something as cold and unyielding as iron.

No matter what, he didn’t seem like someone who liked men.

The prince consort stood nearby with hands tucked in her sleeves, watching him pace around in circles. She rolled her eyes. “Whether he likes it or not, what does it matter? Are you really going to send one over?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Li Ji said. “He’s back at this time—besides celebrating the Empress Dowager’s birthday, the Emperor probably wants him to force us to go to our fief. Right now, there’s an extra team of his people in the Capital Suburbs Military Camp. If he doesn’t get involved, it’ll be easy to handle.”

Prince Chen’s consort sighed. “It’s difficult. He was raised at the Empress Dowager’s side; he’s one of the Emperor’s people.”

“Am I not my mother’s son?” Prince Chen glared. “We’re both from the same mother—why does he side only with Big Brother and not me?”

As if you have the nerve to ask. Prince Chen’s consort rolled her eyes inwardly. Even she, a lady from a noble family who rarely entered the palace, knew that Prince Chen had mocked Yan Xinfeng’s frail health multiple times back then, nearly turning them into enemies. And he still expected Yan Xinfeng to help him?

“Sigh, I can’t manage this anymore,” she sighed, straightened her clothes, and stood up. “Tomorrow, I’m going to Jade Peak Temple to burn incense. Do as you please.”

With that, she prepared to leave, but as she passed Prince Chen, he grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“What is it?”

Seeing her husband’s grave expression, the prince consort widened her eyes, thinking it was something important.

But Prince Chen was silent for a moment before asking, “Do you have any maids on your side who know how to wield big hammers?”

Prince Chen’s consort: “…”

Yan Xinfeng still didn’t know what the outside world was saying about him. When bedtime came, he sat on the edge of Wei Tingxia’s bed, reached into the covers with one hand to check the temperature, and only then sat up straight properly.

The fresh scent of soap drifted over after the bath. Wei Tingxia sat down with wet hair, the two of them very close, almost within arm’s reach.

Yan Xinfeng said nothing. He fetched a cloth towel and carefully dried the damp strands of hair before him. The silence between them flowed like water.

Once the hair was somewhat dry, Wei Tingxia spoke. “Although there’s no major issue now, you still need to be careful. You really must keep a calm and steady mind.”

He was referring to Yan Xinfeng’s illness.

“I know,” Yan Xinfeng said. “Today at the Imperial Medical Bureau, did you really chat with them?”

“Yes, they all really admire me. They think I saved you.”

The divine healer was just a cover. Yan Xinfeng had already planned to collude with the Emperor to keep it hidden for Wei Tingxia, but unexpectedly, he had actually shouldered this facade himself.

“I don’t know what happened either,” he said impassively. “Pei Zhou told me later that it was a dose of medicine sent by Huang Pei. They used it as a last-ditch effort and fed it to me. Unexpectedly, after I spat out a few mouthfuls of blood, I actually started improving.”

Wei Tingxia’s expression didn’t change. He said casually, “That’s good, then.”

He reached back to feel his hair, confirmed it was dry, then slightly turned his body and half-leaned, half-flopped onto Yan Xinfeng’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have given me that life-saving pill.” he said.

The one life-saving pill in the entire world, carefully sealed inside the white porcelain Buddha statue and worshiped daily with ginseng, was meant for its greatest use. Yet Yan Xinfeng had smashed it open to retrieve it and fed it into the mouth of the delirious, unresisting Wei Tingxia.

What a waste of a good pill.

Soft breaths lingered by his ear, accompanied by the warm body heat from their contact, seeping through the thin fabric and burning onto Yan Xinfeng’s skin.

Wei Tingxia’s posture at this moment was obedient and soft, but his words carried an icy, knife-like edge that could not be concealed no matter what—that was his true nature.

Yan Xinfeng briefly closed his eyes and countered, “If not for you, should I have watched you die in front of me?”

“I might not have died.”

“But I didn’t want to gamble. I’ve gambled enough on the battlefield. Off the battlefield, I want everything steady and safe.” Yan Xinfeng said. “If you died on my watch, I wouldn’t forget you from birth to death. Even on my deathbed, I’d be spitting blood while shouting your name.”

Demons cultivating the Dao emphasized karma.

Karma too heavy was hard to escape from reincarnation.

If Wei Tingxia refused to stir even a shred of compassion for him and stay, then Yan Xinfeng would die to become his karma—a cycle of retribution across lifetimes.

Wei Tingxia understood. Uncharacteristically, he didn’t get angry. He rubbed his cheek against the fabric on Yan Xinfeng’s shoulder, like a lazy, sleepy cat.

He said, “Fool.”

Yan Xinfeng smiled.

A slow-burning fire in his heart sparked. Unable to hold back the impulse, he turned his head and left a kiss on Wei Tingxia’s broken brow.

It was a very light kiss, yet the most intimate contact between them so far.

Wei Tingxia suddenly opened his eyes. Under the candlelight, he saw a flush rise on Yan Xinfeng’s face again.

It wasn’t their first lifetime of marriage, yet every time Yan Xinfeng blushed, it was as if it pulled him into that shy, innocent phase too—heart racing uncontrollably from the slightest action by his beloved, unable to hold back.

Wei Tingxia couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing Yan Xinfeng about to leave, he reached out without thinking, grabbed the man’s neck, shifted forward himself, and kissed him.

As their lips touched, hearts pounded wildly.

One could only say that youthful affections were too stirring. Even the kiss held back three parts restraint, just a gentle, lingering touch—as if the person before him was not to be overstepped, any more greed an insult.

Seeing Yan Xinfeng’s flushed ear tips, Wei Tingxia smirked mischievously, opened his mouth, and nipped at the corner of the man’s lips.

“…”

Yan Xinfeng stayed still, letting him bite. Once Wei Tingxia finished, he slowly pulled away and solemnly left another kiss on the broken brow.

After the kiss, he said softly, “You and I… have not yet performed the nuptial cup ceremony. We cannot do this.”

No shyness during the kiss earlier, but now he was embarrassed?

Wei Tingxia raised a brow and licked his reddened lips. “Without bowing to heaven and earth, we can’t consummate?”

His tone sounded very lustful, as if he couldn’t wait for the rites to be completed right now.

Yan Xinfeng didn’t answer immediately. He first reached out to check his pulse, then said, “We should.”

Wei Tingxia: “…”

He sighed. “How can there be someone like you in this world? We’ve already kissed…”

Before he finished, Yan Xinfeng’s face reddened again.

“That was my lapse just now,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

Wei Tingxia was curious. “You mean if I don’t agree, you’ll never kiss me again?”

Yan Xinfeng wanted to nod, but his gaze lingered long on Wei Tingxia’s smiling eyes and brows.

The candlelight was dim and yellow, shadows swaying, tinting the bedding above and below with a warm red glow. His beloved was so close, the white inner robe unbuttoned, exposing skin that dazzled the eyes.

The scene was too harmonious, stirring the imagination.

Yan Xinfeng hesitated.

He coughed once and looked away from Wei Tingxia. “Neither of us has parents or kin. Since we’ve already expressed our intentions to each other, that… that counts as being betrothed. It’s fine to be a bit closer…”

Wei Tingxia burst out laughing.

The next day, a drizzling light rain fell in the capital.

Wei Tingxia moved the jujube branch to the courtyard, held an umbrella himself, and sat with it watching the flowers and grass.

Marquis Yan had returned to the capital, and the Emperor granted him three days’ leave. Yan Xinfeng didn’t attend morning court and stayed in the study reading military books.

The rain only had time to moisten the streets before it stopped.

As soon as the rain ceased, the steward reported a guest had arrived.

Wei Tingxia held his umbrella and sauntered over to Yan Xinfeng’s side. He reached out to touch below his eye sockets, confirmed the faint dark circles weren’t too obvious, and withdrew his hand.

Last night, after talking about betrothal, Wei Tingxia had laughed a bit too happily. General Yan got embarrassed and angry, they tussled for a while, and went to bed late.

“Guess if it’s Li Ji or Li Yan.”

Yan Xinfeng set down his book. “What do you think?”

“Me?” Wei Tingxia placed the potted plant on the small table in Yan Xinfeng’s study and carefully adjusted its position. Casually, he said, “I think it’s Li Ji.”

“Prince Chen?”

“Yeah, Prince Chen’s temperament is relatively impatient. When leading troops in battle, he tends to charge ahead recklessly and can’t hold things in his heart. He’s probably been probing for news since the day you returned to the capital. Today you’re on leave at home, so he couldn’t hold back anymore.”

Yan Xinfeng’s eyes flickered as he watched Wei Tingxia’s back while he arranged the branches and leaves.

“What about Prince Jin?”

“Him?” Wei Tingxia didn’t hesitate. “Li Yan has a deep and steady personality. The fact that he can hold back Li Ji shows he has strategy. For him, mounting a horse to kill enemies or dismounting to scheme probably aren’t difficult.”

“I reckon they’re lingering in the capital and refusing to go to their fief—it’s his idea. Just like that history revision affair a few years ago…”

When he finished speaking, there was no response from behind for a long time.

Wei Tingxia sensed something and slowly turned around. He saw Yan Xinfeng sitting properly behind the desk, eyes dark.

“I remember… you arrived at the Northern Border ten years ago and never returned to the capital. How do you know about these things?” Yan Xinfeng asked slowly.

The history revision matter Wei Tingxia had casually mentioned was actually a storm kicked up by the Ministry of Rites when revising history books for the Late Emperor. Several generals who had followed the Late Emperor on the northern expedition objected, claiming Li Yun was biased, and it even reached the Empress Dowager.

Because the impact was too wide and Li Yun had just ascended the throne with shallow roots in the military, he had no choice but to revise the history books to appease them and promote several generals.

The matter happened quickly and was handled fast—from start to finish, at most half a month. To outsiders, it was just bickering between emperor and ministers; no one thought deeper.

Wei Tingxia realized he’d spoken before thinking.

Right—a border soldier who defected two years ago and hadn’t returned to the capital in ten years—why would he know about the history revision?

Wei Tingxia smiled, his expression awkward. “Heard it mentioned in passing by others.”

Their eyes met, hidden undercurrents surging.

A moment later, Yan Xinfeng nodded, neither believing nor disbelieving.

At this time, the steward came to report again: the visitor was Prince Chen Li Ji, come alone with only a few guards.

Yan Xinfeng asked Wei Tingxia, “Coming along?”

“No,” Wei Tingxia shook his head. “He’s clearly here to beat around the bush with you. I don’t want to watch. What if I fall asleep listening?”

“Then go out for a stroll?”

“Sure,” Wei Tingxia didn’t refuse. “Is there a mountain nearby? I want to play on the mountain.”