Chapter 9

Marching was always boring, and the scenery along the way was much the same. Qixue grew tired of it after just an hour.

Fortunately, he wore a cloak that covered most of his face and blocked the light, so he simply nestled into Wei Huai’s arms to sleep. This way, he slept enough during the day and could stay up late reading at night.

But Wei Huai didn’t let him have his way. Come evening, he always found new ways to torment Qixue, with so many tricks that Qixue found it unbelievable. Were all humans as perverse as Wei Huai?

The temporary tent was rather simple, but it had all the necessary furniture. Wei Huai held Qixue on his lap in front of the desk, picked up a brush, and wrote two characters. The strokes were bold and vigorous, elegant and free-flowing—the very two characters Qixue had asked him about.

“I’ll teach you how to read these two characters.”

Wei Huai said, “One is pronounced ‘jian,’ the other ‘yin.’ As for their meanings… I’ll teach you another way.”

As soon as he pronounced them, Qixue knew which characters they were. Right, the County Princess had come to catch an adulterer, cursing “adulterer and whore.”

Lady Shanyin above, he’d even smugly asked Wei Huai about these two characters… No wonder Wei Huai teased him for being a lecher.

It was too late for regrets. Qixue had already been pushed down onto the desk by Wei Huai, becoming a sheet of beautiful, snow-white rice paper.

Wei Huai switched to a very fine brush, dipped it in clear water to trace the characters stroke by stroke, writing slowly to teach Qixue to recognize them.

Qixue suffered bitterly, his eyes reddening with a mix of tears and laughter, his cheeks flushing pink like peach blossoms. He stammered pleas for mercy to Wei Huai, saying every sweet word he could think of.

Wei Huai tossed the brush aside and murmured in his ear with a smile, “A Xue is so cute. Unfortunately, the more you beg, the more I want to bully you.”

That night, aside from Qixue’s waist, everyone was safe and sound. Everything remained calm.

But late the next night, Qixue suddenly felt a jolt of fear in his dream and woke instantly.

Killing cries shook the tent from outside. The roars of demonic beasts and the shrill screeches of man-eating demons made his ears ache. Even the general’s tent in the center of the camp reeked of pungent blood, showing how fierce the battle outside had become.

Wei Huai was not in the tent, but Apricot stood by the bed with a long saber in hand. Seeing Qixue awake, she gripped the hilt tighter and said earnestly, “I’ll protect the young master with my life.”

How could Qixue let a little girl sacrifice herself for him? Though somewhat afraid, he unhesitatingly donned a robe and rushed out to check the situation. He quietly clutched a strand of rabbit fur in his palm, ready to call on Lady Shanyin for help if needed.

“Young master!”

Apricot hadn’t expected Qixue to run so fast. She fumbled and failed to stop him, letting him dash out of the general’s tent.

Lifting the curtain, the thick stench of blood nearly made Qixue retch. But precisely because the blood scent was so overpowering, he couldn’t smell the demonic beasts and felt less afraid. He scanned the surroundings—no one near the main tent; they were all likely defending the camp’s perimeter.

Worried about Wei Huai, he pulled his robe tighter around his shoulders and ventured out cautiously. After a short walk, he finally saw people, but the horrific scene of blood and flesh flying everywhere terrified him. Before he could get close, a dense mist of blood sprayed over him, and the rivers of blood pooling on the ground soaked his bare feet.

This was Qixue’s first time seeing a man-eating demon up close.

In the pitch-black night, the tall but emaciated demon had pale skin and disproportionately long limbs. It crawled in eerie poses, sucking up blood from the ground.

It had no eyes, just two small nostrils for a nose, but its sense of smell was acutely sensitive, able to detect the faintest whiff of blood and flesh from miles away.

These man-eating demons had no reason, driven purely by instinct, greedily craving fresh flesh and blood. It lay on the ground, extending a long tongue to lap up the blood and chunks of meat. Once it finished, it fixed its gaze on Qixue and lunged at him with a roar.

Qixue turned and ran. Though he couldn’t fight it, he could outrun it, quickly leaving the man-eating demon behind. Soon, a demonic beast pounced on it, engaging in a fierce fight that ended with the beast tearing it apart.

Reaching a safe spot, Qixue patted his chest to calm his breathing, still shaken.

Aside from the time he’d been shot with an arrow, this was the most perilous situation he’d faced—and in terms of terror, tonight was worse. The Third Prince was human, after all, far more approachable than a man-eating demon.

Fortunately, as he went along, he found the situation better than he’d feared. The man-eating demons hadn’t breached the camp’s defenses; they’d only opened a small gap, which was quickly sealed. Now they were in the cleanup phase, with no heavy casualties.

Wei Huai’s iron cavalry were all brave and skilled fighters. This was the first breach in their lines, only because this demon tide was unprecedentedly massive. That’s why Apricot had thought the worst and vowed to protect Qixue to the death.

Apricot anxiously searched everywhere with her saber drawn until she spotted Qixue.

She was about to approach when another figure beat her to it, rushing over to scoop Qixue up and check for injuries. His tone was uncharacteristically stern. “You shouldn’t have come out.”

Held in Wei Huai’s arms, Qixue’s body pressed against the cold armor, yet he felt exceptionally safe.

He cupped Wei Huai’s bloodstained face and kissed his lips. “But I was worried about Seventh Brother.”

Wei Huai’s grave expression softened into helplessness. He sighed and kissed him back. “Don’t worry, I won’t die. It’s almost over. Go back first—I’ll join you soon.”

With the crisis averted, Qixue had no intention of playing the hero. He quietly pocketed the rabbit fur. “I’ll wait for you.”

Wei Huai nodded. As Qixue turned, his gaze swept over his feet. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

Qixue explained, “I rushed out…” and forgot. He’d been human for too short a time; for over a hundred years before, he’d never worn shoes.

“Go get a pair of shoes.” Wei Huai ordered Apricot.

Apricot hurried off to fetch them. Wei Huai half-knelt before Qixue, pulled the cloak from his back, and gently wiped the blood from his feet, checking if the soles were cut by debris.

The soldiers had slain all the invading man-eating demons. Now they only needed to clean the camp and tend the wounded, finally catching a breath. Their nerves relaxed.

Their eyes wandered, and they unanimously saw their lofty Great General kneeling at the beauty’s feet, willingly serving him by wiping his feet with the emperor’s own cloak.

It was also their first time seeing the beauty’s true face.

His silky black hair cascaded down like satin. He wore only a thin outer robe that vaguely revealed his fair, delicate skin. His waist was slender enough to span with two hands, his legs long and slim. The snow-white feet held in the general’s palms were like jade carvings—the arches elegantly arched, the toes plump and adorable.

Under the clear moonlight, he lowered his dark lashes, his features stunningly exquisite, his expression aloof like a divine being untouched by mortal dust. Yet specks of blood dotted his body, like crimson flower buds blooming, adding a demonic allure to his ethereal beauty.

Many soldiers froze in place, wondering if the man-eating demons had cast an illusion with their sorcery to produce such a bewitchingly eerie vision. But they couldn’t tear their eyes away or take a step, standing rigid like statues.

Wei Huai finished wiping the blood clean and took the silk shoes from Apricot to slip them on Qixue’s feet. Only then did he notice his men staring dumbfounded at Qixue. He flicked his sword with a bent finger. “Had enough of a look?”

The clear, resonant sound snapped the soldiers back to their senses. Shamefaced for succumbing to lust, they quickly dispersed.

Wei Huai glanced at the demon blood covering the ground and decided not to let Qixue walk. He scooped him up by the waist to avoid soiling his silk shoes and strode back to the tent.

After escorting Qixue back, he stayed inside too, leaving the aftermath to his trusted aides.

Wei Huai removed his cloak and armor. Only then did Qixue see a tear in his inner shirt at the left arm, revealing flipped flesh and dripping blood. It was hidden because the shirt was black and covered by the cloak.

“You’re injured.” Qixue approached carefully and lifted his left arm. “Didn’t you feel it?”

“Of course I felt it. I’m not made of clay—how could it not hurt?” Wei Huai laughed.

Qixue said, “Then why wipe my feet… Why not come back and bandage it right away?”

“It’s just a minor wound. No big deal.”

Wei Huai stripped off the inner shirt, baring his upper body as he flexed his arm. Then he gripped Qixue’s waist and lifted him up. “See? Doesn’t affect me holding you.”

“Ah…” Qixue suddenly dangled in the air and instinctively grabbed Wei Huai’s forearm, avoiding the wound. “Alright, alright, I know you’re tough. Put me down.”

Wei Huai chuckled and set him down, then tended to his wound. Qixue didn’t know much about it but wanted to help. Sitting beside him, he said, “It’s inconvenient for you to do it yourself. Teach me—I’ll apply the medicine.”

“Sure.”

Wei Huai extended his arm, guiding Qixue in bandaging it. Qixue’s touches were always gentle, afraid to press hard, so Wei Huai tightened the gauze himself, making blood seep through.

“Don’t tie it so tight…”

Qixue reached to loosen it, but Wei Huai caught his fingers and kissed them. “Heartbroken over me?”

For Qixue, the injury wasn’t enough to heartbreak, but he undoubtedly cared for Wei Huai. He felt Wei Huai’s kindness and wanted to reciprocate.

Qixue knew Wei Huai liked hearing his sweet words. To cheer him up, he was happy to oblige. “Of course I’m heartbroken for Seventh Brother. Don’t move—let me tie it.”

Wei Huai said nothing, a faint smile on his lips, his gaze softening as he watched Qixue finish bandaging. Then he pulled him into his arms for a kiss.

Qixue was used to Wei Huai kissing him at every turn. He tilted his face up and kissed back obediently. Unlike the usual plundering kisses, this one was gentle and lingering, like spring breeze and drizzle silently soaking him. It left his cheeks flushed, eyes misty, body limp against Wei Huai.

After a long while, Wei Huai released him and gently stroked his feverish cheek. “Do you like me?”

“Yes.” Qixue murmured softly.

Like he liked his benefactor, Luxiangqiu, Prefect Xu—he liked Wei Huai too.

“Then don’t leave me.” Wei Huai said. “Stay by my side forever. Never part from me.”

Qixue paused. “But…”

It was impossible. Once they reached Shangjing, he’d part from Wei Huai immediately.

In Qixue’s mind, there was no such thing as “together forever.” As a demon, his lifespan was long. Over a century, he’d bid farewell to countless loved ones, including parents and siblings. He’d long grown numb to separations.

Wei Huai was just a mortal, lifespan at most a century. They couldn’t be together forever anyway. At best, he’d keep him company while he lived, then send him to reincarnation after death. That was it.

“No ‘buts.'” Wei Huai gently pressed Qixue’s lips. “Promise me. Come back to Shangjing with me. I’ll treat you well.”

This was the first time Wei Huai explicitly promised to take Qixue to Shangjing. It was exactly what he wanted, so he finally relaxed, blooming into a bright smile.

Fine then. For Wei Huai’s kindness, he’d humor him.

“I promise. I won’t leave Seventh Brother.”

He nestled against Wei Huai’s solid chest, sweet-talking him.

“Forever with you, never separating for life.”