“Gu Huaiyu?”
The Vice-Envoy was stunned for a moment before remembering that this was the Chancellor’s courtesy name. “Is the Prince thinking of how to take his life?”
Yelü Chi did not answer directly. He merely gave a soft chuckle. “This man, Gu Huaiyu…”
He pressed his tongue against his lower teeth, seemingly weighing a fitting description.
“Insidious?” the Vice-Envoy ventured.
Yelü Chi shook his head.
“Vicious?”
He shook his head again.
The Vice-Envoy scratched his head, his eyes suddenly lighting up. “A scorpion beauty?”
This time, Yelü Chi did not shake his head. His tone grew heavy. “He is very unusual.”
To anyone else, these words would sound ordinary. To become the Chancellor of a dynasty at such a young age, he was naturally no ordinary man. But the “unusualness” Yelü Chi spoke of was something else entirely.
Gu Huaiyu had promulgated the Decree for Military Participation in Governance and had maintained a hardline stance against the delegation in court. Clearly, like Yelü Chi himself, he was one of the few pro-war hawks in either nation.
This should have been a tacit transaction.
Yelü Chi didn’t care whether Wu Wei lived or died. A man led by his lower half, his mind filled with nothing but filth, was no different from livestock in his eyes. Nor did he expect Gu Huaiyu to return Wu Wei unscathed.
His bottom line was simple: the man had to be alive. He needed to be able to open his mouth and bite out the words “Great Chen” to provide Yelü Chi with a justification for war to convince the Eastern Liao imperial court. After that, Yelü Chi would have dealt with Wu Wei himself—clean and quick.
To that end, he had even offered generous terms, providing bargaining chips that Gu Huaiyu could have used when the two nations eventually went to war. It was mutually beneficial—perfect, even.
Yet, Gu Huaiyu had shattered that bottom line. He had publicly provoked Eastern Liao and incensed the Regent.
How impulsive. How unusual.
The Vice-Envoy naturally didn’t understand the complex gears turning in the Regent’s mind. Connecting the dots of the conversation, he asked, “Does the Prince mean that Chancellor Gu is unusually beautiful?”
The image of what he had seen beneath Gu Huaiyu’s robes that day suddenly flickered before Yelü Chi’s eyes—those straight, slender legs spread defenselessly before him. He could almost still smell that fine, lingering fragrance.
He gave a light laugh and nodded, frankly admitting the point.
But if he wanted to possess this unusual beauty, he would first have to conquer the cities and rivers behind him. When the day came that the Iron Cavalry of Eastern Liao trampled through the gates of Great Chen, Gu Huaiyu would be his most perfect trophy.
At the thought, the blood in Yelü Chi’s veins surged with heat. Even with the cold wind blowing, he felt no chill; instead, a restless fever boiled within him.
After all, power and beauty were the two most difficult things in the world to obtain. To find someone who embodied both… if he could have him, it would be like pinning the mountains, the rivers, and absolute power beneath him. There would be nothing left in this world he could not conquer.
Unbeknownst to the man stirring the storms of the capital, the person in question was currently huddled inside an unremarkable blue-canopied carriage. His nose was red from the cold, his lips pale, and his hands were clamped tightly around a hand warmer.
A Chancellor’s carriage should have been a warm pavilion inlaid with gold and jade, lined with mink fur. But right now, he wasn’t “Chancellor Gu.” He was merely an ordinary scholar traveling to West Mountain Temple to offer incense.
Yun Niang sat beside him, her heart aching at the sight of him. “My Lord, is visiting West Mountain Temple truly this important?”
Gu Huaiyu visited the Grand Empress Dowager on the fifteenth of every month, regardless of wind or rain. He gave a soft, weary “Mm” in response.
Unable to watch any longer, Yun Niang lifted a corner of the curtain.
The cold wind, swirled with granules of snow, poured into the carriage. Outside, Pei Jingyi was driving the carriage, wearing only thin martial robes with a black cloak draped loosely over his shoulders, his collar wide open.
“General Pei!” Yun Niang said urgently. “Could you lend your cloak to the Chancellor for a moment?”
Pei Jingyi untied the fastenings of his cloak. Yun Niang reached out to take it, but to her surprise, he simply lifted the curtain and crawled inside.
The carriage was cramped. His entrance brought him nearly flush against Gu Huaiyu.
Gu Huaiyu already had a thick cloak over his shoulders, but Pei Jingyi’s cloak—still carrying the man’s body heat—was draped heavily over him as well. Although he found it distasteful to wear something Pei Jingyi had just been wearing, he had to tolerate it for the sake of warmth. “How much further?”
“Less than ten miles.”
Having tied the cloak’s strings, Pei Jingyi naturally took one of his hands. His two broad, warm palms completely enveloped Gu Huaiyu’s hand. “The Chancellor’s hand is so cold.”
As he spoke, he brought the hand to his lips and gently blew a breath of warm air over it. “It makes this humble official’s heart ache. I truly wish I could take it into my mouth to warm it for you, My Lord.”
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