At the brink of life and death, Pei Jingyi felt a surge of heat in his chest. He squinted against the wind and sand, clicking his tongue inwardly. To have such a person… even a mountain of blades or a sea of fire would be nothing to fear.
The black-clad riders were relentless.
As Gu Huaiyu galloped forward, another group of warriors in barbarian dress suddenly appeared from behind a dune. Armed with bows and blades, they were clearly no mere merchants.
Trapped between two forces, Gu Huaiyu prepared to fight to the death—until he saw a familiar face in the dust.
A “barbarian merchant” with a thick, fake beard stumbled forward. It was Shen Jun!
“Chancellor!” Shen Jun tore off the fake beard, his voice cracking.
Beside him, a cloaked figure threw back his hood, revealing the overjoyed face of Xie Shaoling. “It really is the Chancellor!”
The only person displeased was Pei Jingyi, who ground out a low, “Fuck.”
There was no time to ask how they had found them. Gu Huaiyu raised his hand and shouted, “Stop them!”
The Northern Frontier Army soldiers behind Shen Jun moved instantly. They drew their bows and unleashed a rain of arrows upon the black-clad pursuers.
Realizing the situation was lost, the pursuers made a final, desperate move. They ignored the incoming arrows and focused all their fire on the tall, prominent figure on the lead horse.
Eastern Liao’s horse-archery was notoriously lethal.
Thwip—!
Gu Huaiyu felt a series of heavy thuds behind him. The body pressed against his back suddenly lurched forward, leaning its full weight against him. His heart stopped. “Pei Du!”
Pei Jingyi grabbed the reins and yanked them hard. The warhorse reared with a high-pitched neigh, charging into the safety of the Northern Frontier Army’s formation. A wall of iron shields slammed shut, protecting them.
Gu Huaiyu turned his head frantically. He saw fine beads of sweat on Pei Jingyi’s forehead, his jaw trembling with the effort to remain upright. But the moment Pei Jingyi saw the panicked look on Gu’s face, he grinned, baring his white teeth. “Chancellor, that bastard Yelü Chi… he definitely put a hex on me.”
Gu Huaiyu didn’t have time for his complaints. He unfastened the hands wrapped around his waist. As soon as he dismounted, the massive frame toppled toward him like a falling mountain. He reached out to catch him, nearly being pulled down himself, until several soldiers rushed over to help support the weight.
Only then did Gu Huaiyu see his back. Seven or eight arrows were buried deep in his flesh, his robes already soaked a dark, terrifying crimson.
***
The desert dawn was a pale, ashen gray. Inside a simple military tent, a single oil lamp flickered, casting long, wavering shadows.
The Northern Frontier Army, having fought the Liao for years, was intimately familiar with their arrows. The heads were barbed, designed to hook into the flesh. Pulling them out would only tear the muscle apart; they had to be carved out with a blade.
Shen Jun, ever meticulous, had anticipated the danger and brought along a veteran military physician. The old doctor was currently examining the wounds on Pei Jingyi’s back.
“The Chancellor needn’t worry,” Pei Jingyi said, lying flat on a low cot. He stared intently at Gu Huaiyu, who was sitting nearby. “It’s just a scratch.”
Gu Huaiyu saw that his life was practically hanging by a thread. He turned to the physician. “Doctor, what do you need?”
The old man shook his head and grabbed a jar of strong spirits. “Commander Pei, endure this.”
Without another word, he poured the alcohol over the wounds.
Hiss—
The sound of the spirits hitting raw flesh was sickening. Pei Jingyi’s muscles locked into stone, yet he remained perfectly still, not letting out a single cry of pain.
The physician took a pair of shears and cut away the blood-soaked clothes, revealing the gory mess. The arrows were embedded deep, and the beautiful tattoos on Pei’s back were twisted and mangled by the trauma.
Gu Huaiyu’s eyes flickered, and he looked away.
“Pardon me, Chancellor,” the doctor said, gripping his scalpel. “I must cut out the arrowheads now. Please help the Commander stay focused. If he passes out from the pain, it will be difficult to manage in this desert.”
Gu Huaiyu took a deep breath and looked back at Pei Jingyi’s sweat-slicked face. “Speak if you wish, Commander. This Chancellor is listening.”
Pei Jingyi’s arm trembled as he reached out, palm facing up. Gu Huaiyu understood. He placed his hand into the blood-stained palm. The large hand immediately tightened, enveloping his long fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Truly… anything?” Pei Jingyi’s voice was hoarse, his breathing uneven.
“This Chancellor pardons you for any offense.” Gu Huaiyu could afford that much grace.
Pei Jingyi suddenly pulled Gu’s hand toward him. His lips, pale from blood loss, curved into a smirk. “Then… what if I want…”
He lowered his voice until it was a mere rasp of air. “What if I want the Chancellor to kiss me?”
The physician’s hand slipped slightly at the shock, and the blade cut deep. Pei Jingyi let out a muffled groan as a fresh spurt of blood soaked his back.
Gu Huaiyu’s eyebrows twitched. It was just a kiss. They had done it before; what was the big deal?
He leaned forward decisively. His fingers hooked under Pei Jingyi’s chin, and with all the authority of a Lord Chancellor, he pressed his lips against those pale, thin ones.
It was meant to be a brief touch.
As he began to pull away, Gu Huaiyu asked solemnly, “How was that?”
Pei Jingyi hadn’t even gotten a taste yet; how could he let it end there? His palm shot up to the back of Gu Huaiyu’s head, pulling him back down. He was desperate to savor the lips he had been dreaming of for so long.
It wasn’t a light peck this time. He licked every inch of those soft lips before his tongue breached the snowy-white teeth to taste the Chancellor’s elegant tongue.
Gu Huaiyu let out a muffled hum, his eyes widening as his pupils dilated in shock.
