Chapter 92: Dont Touch Me Recklessly Part 1

The atmosphere inside Xijing was as tense as a drawn bowstring, exactly as Gu Huaiyu had predicted.

Yelü Chi had already ordered the city gates sealed. City guards carried torches, conducting door-to-door searches, specifically hunting for “refined and fair-skinned” Han men.

Fortunately, the Eastern Liao people suffered from a deep-rooted prejudice—in their eyes, officials from Great Chen were all frail, pale-faced scholars.

Pei Jingyi, with his tall, imposing stature, sharp features, and the rugged aura of a fierce bandit, looked to anyone like the most valiant warrior of the steppes. Consequently, when the two reached the city gates on horseback, the guards merely performed a perfunctory check before waving them through.

The pair rode through the night without pause, finally arriving at a small town the following noon.

Pei Jingyi was the first to leap from his horse. He raised an arm to steady Gu Huaiyu. “Careful, Teacher.”

Gu Huaiyu leaned on his palm. As soon as his boots hit the ground, his brow furrowed, and he let out a sharp hiss of pain.

As the pampered Lord Chancellor, he usually traveled in official litans or carriages. When had he ever been forced to ride day and night? After such prolonged jolting, his backside felt numb, his inner thighs were chafed and stinging, and even his waist was stiff with ache.

Pei Jingyi looped the reins around his wrist and suddenly turned, crouching down. His broad back stretched out before Gu Huaiyu. “Get on.”

Gu Huaiyu flopped onto his back without hesitation, his arms familiarly circling the man’s neck. He gave Pei Jingyi’s cheek a frustrated slap. “You thick-skinned dog.”

Pei Jingyi let out a low chuckle. His palms securely hooked under the curves of Gu Huaiyu’s legs, and he gave a deliberate little bounce, enjoying the benefit of the position without saying a word.

The two needed to change their appearances in the town.

This small place didn’t even have a clothing shop, but fortunately, silver was a universal currency. Pei Jingyi carried him across two streets before suddenly stopping in front of a small courtyard.

A few villagers were gathered outside the walls, whispering amongst themselves.

From his vantage point on Pei Jingyi’s back, Gu Huaiyu looked down. The courtyard was decorated with lanterns and streamers; bright red “Double Happiness” characters were pasted on the window lattices. It was clearly a wedding day.

Yet, from the bridal chamber that should have been filled with joy, the heart-wrenching cries of a woman rang out. “Father! I beg of you! I won’t go!”

The onlookers seemed used to the sight, merely shaking their heads and sighing. “Poor child. If only she were Eastern Liao…”

“What choice does Old Man Zhang have?” An old man pointed toward the town entrance. “The sedan chair is waiting right there. If they don’t comply, the lives of the whole family…”

Before he could finish, several villagers’ eyes turned red, and they began wiping away tears with their sleeves.

The wailing in the house intensified. The bride’s shrill cries, mixed with the sobbing of her family, made the garish red “Double Happiness” characters seem cruelly ironic.

How could Gu Huaiyu not know the reason? This was the “Right of the First Night”—a Han bride’s wedding night was considered “grace” bestowed upon an Eastern Liao Thousand-man Commander.

To resist was to face the execution of one’s entire lineage.

Since he had stumbled upon this, there was no reason for him to ignore it.

“Pei Du,” he whispered, leaning close to Pei Jingyi’s ear. “We’ll get our clothes from this house.”

Pei Jingyi looked up at him and immediately understood his intent. The hand supporting Gu Huaiyu’s thigh moved upward, giving a firm, rhythmic pat to his upturned backside. “Teacher has good eyes. This family’s clothes will surely fit your frame.”