Chapter 43: Im Afraid of Spicy Food!!! Part 1

Dawn broke, and the snow finally ceased.

Gu Huaiyu had just finished breakfast. As he stepped over the threshold of the small dining hall, he spotted a tall, imposing figure standing at the bottom of the steps.

Upon seeing him, Pei Jingyi immediately strode forward. He shook out a heavy cloak and draped it steadily over the Chancellor’s shoulders.

“Be careful not to catch a chill, my Lord.”

The cloak wrapped around Gu Huaiyu was radiating warmth, clearly having been toasted over a brazier moments ago. Gu Huaiyu raised his eyes slightly, accepting this unprompted “attentiveness” with practiced indifference.

This was the proper order of things.

Whenever the officials of the Gu Faction saw him, which one of them didn’t bow and scrape, vying for the chance to hold his umbrella or carry his sedan chair? Compared to those old foxes, Pei Jingyi still had a long way to go.

Pei Jingyi leaned down and meticulously tied the silk ribbons at Gu Huaiyu’s collar. As he straightened up, his finger gave a playful flick to the fabric. “My Lord smells so divine that my nose refuses to leave your side.”

Gu Huaiyu shot him a sidelong glance and started walking. This level of flattery wasn’t even enough to qualify for the Gu Faction’s entry requirements.

Pei Jingyi followed behind him, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took a breath. The scent of top-grade aged agarwood was naturally pleasant.

But the scent on Gu Huaiyu was exceptionally intoxicating.

He even began to suspect if there was something addictive mixed into the incense—otherwise, how could he explain why he found himself subconsciously missing this scent every time he left the Chancellor’s Estate?

The carriage rolled over the palace paths, which had been cleared of snow but remained slick with moisture, before stopping at the gates leading to the Chancellery.

Before they even descended, a commotion could be heard outside.

“The Lord Chancellor has arrived!”

“Quick! Get the hand warmers ready!”

“Director Shen, please stand this way…”

Gu Huaiyu lifted the carriage curtain to find a dense crowd of officials standing before the hall.

At the head of the group was Shen Jun, holding a hand warmer, and Dong Danyu, clutching a stack of documents. Behind them stood over a dozen officials carrying tea, snacks, portable braziers, and soft cushions, looking for all the world like a pack of household servants waiting to attend to their master.

“We pay our respects to the Lord Chancellor!”

They saluted in unison, their voices so loud they shook the lingering snow from the nearby branches.

Shen Jun stepped forward with casual grace, not even sparing a glance for Pei Jingyi. He smiled faintly and said, “My Lord, the charcoal fires in the Chancellery are already burning bright.”

Dong Danyu hesitated for a moment before following behind. Being young and thin-skinned, he still felt a bit embarrassed by the spectacle. “I have already selected all the urgent memorials for today.”

Pei Jingyi’s gaze swept over the black-clad crowd, and the corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly.

He stepped down from the carriage first. His eyes moved from Gu Huaiyu’s exquisite silk shoes to the stone path ahead, which shimmered with melting snow. “My Lord, the slush is freezing. It might soak through your boots and socks. Why don’t I carry you in?”

Caught between the awkwardness of being carried in public and the nuisance of wetting his shoes, Gu Huaiyu gave a soft “Mm,” reluctantly choosing the former.

Pei Jingyi immediately knelt down on one knee.

Gu Huaiyu leaned onto that broad, sturdy back. Pei Jingyi rose steadily and walked across the slick palace path with a firm, unshakable gait.

The Gu Faction officials kneeling before the Chancellery exchanged glances before silently standing up.

“The youth truly are to be feared… Look at that initiative. He knows exactly how to look out for the Chancellor.”

“Young people have sharp minds; they know how to handle things. No wonder the Chancellor takes him everywhere.”

“Even the way he carries him looks good… Sigh, I’m impressed.”

Only Shen Jun kept a cold face, staring at Pei Jingyi’s retreating back without a word. His fingers gripped the hand warmer so hard his knuckles turned white.

Dong Danyu stood beside him, whispering in admiration, “I didn’t expect General Pei to be so considerate. He must be so devoted out of gratitude for the Chancellor’s kindness.”

Shen Jun slowly turned his head. Seeing the young man’s sincere expression, he asked icily, “Is Third Scholar Dong truly the son of the Grand Preceptor?”

Dong Danyu replied blankly, “Indeed I am.”

“You haven’t inherited a lick of your father’s talent,” Shen Jun huffed.

Dong Danyu’s eyes lit up. “Thank you for the compliment, Director Shen!”

Shen Jun: “…”

It was barely a hundred paces from the entrance to the Chancellery.

With Pei Jingyi’s usual stride, he could have crossed it in an instant.

But today, he walked exceptionally slow.

Gu Huaiyu’s sickly body was light—much lighter than Pei had realized when the man was merely stepping on his back. Even through the heavy winter layers, Pei Jingyi could clearly feel the slender frame beneath the fabric, as if it might snap with the slightest application of force.

“What medicine is Your Lordship taking?” His restless nose was still sniffing. “Why is there no sign of recovery?”

Gu Huaiyu stared at the small patch of skin on the back of the General’s neck—a spot that looked perfectly suited for biting into. He closed his eyes and turned his face away slightly. “Medicine from the Imperial Academy of Medicine.”

Pei Jingyi’s palms tightened. Even through the robes, he could feel those startlingly thin thighs. He shifted his grip to hoist the man higher but didn’t press further.

The best imperial physicians in Great Chen were all gathered at the Academy. If that place couldn’t cure him, it meant the illness wasn’t “not yet better”—it meant it could never be cured.

Pei Jingyi was the type of man who would use the falling sky as a blanket. He had never known the taste of regret in his life. He had taken up the blade at a young age and spent every day living on the edge of a sword; the dead were more familiar to him than the living. But in this moment, a strange, inexplicable fear surged in his heart.

He was afraid the man on his back would one day die without a sound.