Chapter 69: I Quit Part 1

Pei Jingyi watched him remain silent and leaned forward a few inches. “When you become the Emperor, Your Excellency, you won’t have to put up with this kind of nonsense.”

Gu Huaiyu lay lazily on the brocade couch, propping his chin up with one hand. His mood seemed to have improved significantly. “Oh? If I become the Emperor, then what would you be?”

Pei Jingyi stared at the strands of hair falling beside Gu Huaiyu’s temples, his heart itching with a restlessness he could barely contain. “I will be the blade before you and the shield behind you.”

Gu Huaiyu rolled his eyes at him. There was no way he would believe such nonsense. He closed his eyes to take a nap.

The carriage rolled forward, the atmosphere inside the cabin quiet and still.

After a long while, having stared at him for what felt like an eternity, Pei Jingyi suddenly leaned in close. He whispered almost directly into the other man’s ear, “Does Your Excellency want to… feel a bit better?”

Gu Huaiyu’s eyelashes trembled, and he snapped his eyes open. “Get lost.”

Pei Jingyi’s brow furrowed slightly, appearing completely oblivious as to why the other was angry. He pressed his knuckles against his own temple and rubbed. “I only wanted to massage your temples. Is that not allowed?”

Gu Huaiyu glanced at him. He was truly exhausted in both mind and body, and with Yun Niang away, he had no one else to order around.

Furthermore, his head was beginning to throb with a dull, persistent ache that was becoming unbearable.

Finally deigning to grant Pei Jingyi a chance, he closed his eyes and turned over, resting his head on Pei Jingyi’s lap. These thighs were nothing like the soft, fragrant warmth of a maidservant’s lap; they were made of firm muscle and bone, feeling more like a stone pillow.

However, Pei Jingyi’s hands were unexpectedly gentle.

His fingertips pressed lightly against Gu Huaiyu’s temples, the pressure increasing gradually as he kneaded away the tension inch by inch along the meridians.

Gu Huaiyu’s brow smoothed out, and a nearly imperceptible “mm” escaped his throat.

That single sound made Pei Jingyi’s throat go dry. His palm brushed against that snow-white neck as if by accident, but he remained extremely restrained, only lightly feeling the delicate, smooth skin.

Gu Huaiyu looked relaxed, but he wasn’t asleep. His mind was busy untangling the mess of current events.

He wasn’t worried about tomorrow’s court assembly.

The Gu Faction currently occupied seventy percent of the court. Even with a public vote for his dismissal, the result would be a lot of noise with very little substance.

His position as Chancellor was too stable.

Yet, it was precisely because of this storm that he suddenly realized something—his power was not nearly stable enough.

If the Gu Faction’s foundation weren’t so deep, if they didn’t overwhelm the Pure Stream, and if the man sitting in this position wasn’t Gu Huaiyu himself, tomorrow’s public vote would undoubtedly succeed.

One who does not consider the distant future will find trouble at their doorstep. Being prepared for any eventuality was the very reason he had survived this long.

In this massive system dominated by the imperial examinations and civil officials, he, as the head of the Chancellors, had practically reached the summit. The administration, the military, and the treasury were all in his hands.

There was no possibility of moving another step forward.

But what if the system itself was what limited him?

If he stepped outside these rules, outside the definitions of “Chancellor of the Secretariat” and “Head of the Bureaucracy”…

Could a new role emerge that transcended them all?

A role truly shaped by his own hands, one that no one could check or balance.

He suddenly chuckled.

Pei Jingyi’s hot breath brushed against his cheek. “What is Your Excellency laughing at?”

Gu Huaiyu didn’t even bother to open his eyes. He reached out a hand and pushed the approaching face away. “Heaven’s secrets must not be revealed.”

Pei Jingyi took the opportunity to brush his lips against Gu Huaiyu’s palm, stealing a quick kiss. His ability to take an inch whenever given a mile had become quite polished; it was now a reflexive habit.

The carriage eventually came to a halt at the Chancellor’s Estate.

Gu Huaiyu had rested enough. He opened his eyes to get up, and Pei Jingyi placed a hand against his lower back to help him, not forgetting to ask, “Did Your Excellency enjoy that?”

Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in closer. “I could make you feel even better by playing the flute for you with my hands. Doesn’t Your Excellency want to try?”

“No.”

Gu Huaiyu was now capable of answering such vulgar questions with a completely straight face. “Get out. This Chancellor wishes to dismount.”

Pei Jingyi laughed a few times and leaped nimbly from the carriage. He turned around and spread his arms wide with an arrogant, unbridled air. “If Your Excellency ever has difficulties with music, this official is willing to play the flute or the zither for you at any time!”

Gu Huaiyu ignored him. The first thing he did upon entering the estate was order Liu Erlang to close the gates to all guests.

He would not receive, see, or answer anyone. If they had business, they could speak at court tomorrow.

The Emperor had already notified the Secretariat, the Bureau of Military Affairs, and the Chancellery. The news of the dismissal spread like wildfire. Countless people rushed to the Chancellor’s Estate through the night to gauge the wind or swear their loyalty.

The entire capital went without sleep. Rumors flew, and while some rejoiced, others despaired.

When Grand Preceptor Dong and Qin Zijin heard the news, they were practically grinning from ear to ear. They knew they couldn’t actually get rid of Gu Huaiyu, but dealing a blow to his prestige was enough.

The two of them personally took up their brushes to write impeachment memorials. Their words were sharp and their phrasing poisonous, intending to strike like a thunderclap during tomorrow’s session.

The next morning, as the first light of dawn touched the sky, the gates to the Hall of Literary Virtue had not yet opened, but a dense crowd of people was already kneeling outside.