Chapter 59: I’ve Been Thinking of You Part 1

The thick, metallic scent of blood churned within the room.

The headless corpse lay slumped on the floor, its eyes still bulging, staring at Pei Jingyi in a deathly, unblinking grudge.

Pei Jingyi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His spine was a rigid line of tension, making the chair beneath him groan and creak. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, his muscles trembling from the sheer force of his suppression, yet that surging, restless heat refused to subside.

“…”

He snapped his eyes open, his gaze burning with a mix of raw desire and irritation. Reaching down, he dealt himself a sharp, frustrated slap, muttering a low, self-deprecating curse. “You rebellious brat.”

“What? Do you only listen when Gu Huaiyu is the one counting for you?”

With a grunt, he snatched up a wine flagon and tilted his head back, gulping it down. The fiery liquid scorched his throat, but it did nothing to douse the perverse fire in his blood.

Absurd. It was utterly absurd.

His own body was no longer under his control; it seemed he needed Gu Huaiyu present just to…

The more Pei Jingyi thought about it, the more his head ached. It was already troublesome enough that he harbored such desires for Gu Huaiyu, but now this peculiar affliction had taken root.

He couldn’t very well get married one day only to have Gu Huaiyu stand by the bed on his wedding night, counting aloud while he stared at the Chancellor’s face just to get it up. And then what? Give the man a nod of thanks before getting down to business?

The mere thought made Pei Jingyi’s entire body recoil in disgust.

First, he had no intention of marrying. With the country in such a state, how could he possibly care for romance?

Second…

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long, weary sigh.

Zhao Ru had said one thing that was actually correct: his standards were high—dangerously, impossibly high.

With a heavy thud, he slammed the flagon onto the table and wiped his face hard. Sweat and blood smeared across his cheeks, giving him a predatory, sinister air. Once the heat finally ebbed, he tore a cloth from the table, wrapped the severed head inside, and strode out toward the military camp.

Yan Zheng was sitting with several old subordinates, drinking. The tent flap was suddenly wrenched open, and a blood-soaked bundle went flying through the air. Yan Zheng caught it reflexively, his hands instantly slick with gore.

“I found the scapegoat.”

Pei Jingyi jerked his chin toward the bundle, signaling him to open it. The cloth fell away, revealing Zhao Ru’s face, eyes still wide in frozen terror.

The tent fell into a sudden, heavy silence.

“A fatal brawl,” Pei Jingyi said, wrapping up the matter with clinical efficiency. “The Army Overseer lost his head after a bout of drinking and insulted the troops. A dispute broke out with Zhao Ru, and in the ensuing struggle, he was killed by mistake.”

the subordinates exchanged looks, their understanding silent and swift.

If a common soldier killed an Army Overseer, it was mutiny and treason. But if the court-appointed commander killed the overseer, it was just a brawl—a tragic accident at most. A major problem reduced to a minor one, and a minor one vanished into thin air.

That very night, Pei Jingyi and Yan Zheng packed their gear and departed for the capital to report their success.

It was the height of winter. The scent of blood was frozen into a stagnant, deathly chill by the night wind. Zhao Ru’s head was packed into a sealed ice box, secured tightly to be brought back to the capital—a gift for Gu Huaiyu to use as he saw fit.

As the two men rode out of the camp, a dense crowd of soldiers stood waiting at the gates of their own accord. They carried baskets filled with humble offerings: dry rations wrapped in old cloth, pickled vegetables, deer antlers, and even hand-sewn knee pads and cotton socks.

A mountain of mismatched items lay on the ground, all meant for Pei Jingyi and Yan Zheng to carry back to the capital—”tokens of gratitude” for Chancellor Gu.

An elderly officer stood before the horses, his expression tinged with a shy, awkward embarrassment. “General Pei, we trouble you to convey our thanks to the Chancellor.”

Pei Jingyi looked back at Yan Zheng, then tightened his grip on the reins. His voice was soft but steady. “There is no need for gifts.”

“He carries you in his heart; you must carry him in yours.”

The words were simple, yet they struck the hearts of the hundred-odd soldiers like iron nails driven into bone. After a brief silence, one man dropped to his knees. Then a second, then a third… the sound of knees hitting the earth rose in a messy yet thunderous wave.

The Emperors of the Yuan family could not be relied upon. The words of civil officials meant nothing. The only person who truly fought for them, who treated soldiers like human beings, was Gu Huaiyu.

Even if they ate the Emperor’s grain and drew the court’s pay, they could no longer truly consider themselves the Emperor’s men. At the critical moment, they had to be clear—they knew whose soldiers they were, and they knew whose side they stood on.

***