Chapter 61: What Is This? Is It Edible? Part 1

Pei Jingyi strode through the corridors with purpose. He didn’t need to ask for directions; in a residence like this, the most spacious wing was invariably reserved for Gu Huaiyu.

Just as he reached for the door, it creaked open from the inside.

Yun Niang, carrying a copper basin, started at the sudden figure looming before her. She exhaled in relief when she recognized him. “General Pei.”

Pei Jingyi’s clenched jaw slowly relaxed, his lips curling into a playful, mocking arc. “Is the Lord Chancellor not yet asleep?”

Without waiting for her answer, he stepped into the bedchamber.

The room was bathed in the warm, steady glow of candlelight. Two servants were busy at a side table, arranging an array of implements: a blade as thin as a cicada’s wing, a small bowl of green jade, and white alum powder used to prevent coagulation. Several medicinal herbs lay scattered nearby, their bitter fragrance drifting through the air.

Gu Huaiyu reclined in a chair, a scroll held loosely in his hand. He showed no surprise at the intrusion, merely tilting his chin slightly. “You’ve arrived just in time. It is time for the bloodletting.”

Pei Jingyi’s gaze swept over the tools on the table before settling on that thin, clean face. He narrowed his eyes into slits and gave a low chuckle. “A month apart, and your grace remains unchanged, My Lord. It truly captivates the heart.”

Gu Huaiyu arched an eyebrow. Naturally. Why state the obvious?

Pei Jingyi sat directly in front of the table and glanced at the thin blade. “Where would the Lord Chancellor like to drink from today?”

Seeing how straightforward he was being, Gu Huaiyu didn’t bother with pleasantries. He chose the easiest spot. “The arm.”

Pei Jingyi had come straight from the road; his tall frame was tightly bound in narrow-sleeved traveling leathers. He reached up to undo the leather guards at his wrists. With a flick of his fingers, the ties of his outer robe loosened, allowing the fabric to slide off his shoulders. He deliberately pulled down half of his inner tunic along with it.

The robes pooled loosely at his waist. Under the candlelight, his honey-toned skin shimmered like polished amber. The lines of his shoulders and arms, honed by years of riding and archery, were fluid and distinct. His chest was broad and solid, and a tattoo flickered in and out of the firelight—wild and unbridled.

Gu Huaiyu’s eyelids lifted, his gaze lingering for a fraction of a second on that bare chest before he looked away.

He certainly has a fine physique. No wonder he looks for every opportunity to expose himself.

Pei Jingyi rested his arm on the table and flicked a glance at the servant behind it. “By all means.”

The servant’s hand was steady as he picked up the paper-thin blade. With surgical precision, he made a cut at the crook of the general’s arm. Beads of blood immediately welled up, sliding down the bone of his arm and into the exquisite porcelain bowl.

Pei Jingyi didn’t so much as flinch. He leaned sideways against the table, turning his bare chest fully toward Gu Huaiyu and jutting it forward slightly.

“The matter in Ningzhou is settled.”

“It was nothing more than a clash between the Army Overseer and the local commander. Both are dead. I brought back the head of the mastermind.”

Gu Huaiyu had seen the report from “The Hearing” two days ago. Pei Jingyi had handled it with remarkable intuition, hiding a sense of proportion beneath his thunderous methods. He hadn’t let the situation escalate—Great Chen could not afford any more turmoil.

“Well done,” Gu Huaiyu praised silkily.

In the past, Pei Jingyi’s tail would have practically wagged at such praise, but tonight he wasn’t in a celebratory mood. He gave a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just saw the ‘grand gift’ you sent me, My Lord.”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t even look up, asking casually, “Oh? Do you like it?”

I like it so much I could die.

“The Lord Chancellor is far too considerate.” Pei Jingyi’s jaw muscles bunched, his jawline turning jagged with tension, yet he grinned, revealing a row of stark white teeth.

Gu Huaiyu turned a page of his book, completely unbothered. “My physical constitution is frail. Such things are not for me.”

“…”

Pei Jingyi was stunned by this sudden “honesty.”

Everyone knew that Gu Huaiyu detested such topics. Usually, if a conversation drifted even slightly toward carnal matters, Gu Huaiyu would turn hostile immediately. Why would he bring it up tonight?

He studied Gu Huaiyu thoughtfully. The yellow candlelight made the man’s silhouette seem even more delicate. His lowered lashes cast faint shadows, and even his fingertips as he turned the pages possessed a sickly, translucent quality.

He was beautiful, certainly, but it was a beauty possessed of a chilling distance—untouched by a single spark of desire.

Pei Jingyi suddenly understood. It wasn’t that the Chancellor was noble and aloof; it was that his body was too weak to ever… indulge.

He had stumbled upon the truth by sheer accident. It was like a strange mathematical problem: the formula used for the derivation was wrong, but the conclusion was perfectly accurate.

While Pei Jingyi stared at that thin profile in a daze, the servant finished filling the bowl. Yun Niang picked up the bowl, added a few medicinal herbs, and placed it on a small stove over a low flame to simmer.

Before long, the herbs dissolved. The scent of medicine mingled with the metallic tang of blood, creating a hauntingly pleasant aroma.

The last time Gu Huaiyu had drunk the Nine Li blood at West Mountain, it had been done crudely. This time, he finally had the refinements befitting a Chancellor.

He tilted his chin, signaling Yun Niang to place the warmed bowl on the table. Then, he waved a hand. “All of you, leave.”