Chapter 26: Bark for me, and I’ll let you go. Part 2

Pei Jingyi leaned over to take a look and let out a soft, mocking snort. “A grand alliance? Princess Mingzhu is old enough to be the little Emperor’s mother.”

Gu Huaiyu hadn’t known that detail, but according to previous secret reports from the Bingzhou Governor, Eastern Liao was demanding the markets be reopened. To put it bluntly, the “protection money” Great Chen had paid at the start of the year had run out, and they wanted to extort another round before year’s end.

This marriage mission was likely just a hand reached out for money. They certainly knew how to pick their timing; the Ministry of Revenue could barely afford the salaries of the capital officials, let alone find the silver for an annual tribute.

Pei Jingyi had dealt with Eastern Liao countless times and knew those wolves all too well. He tapped his finger against the latter half of the report, a relaxed smile playing on his lips. “Does My Lord know the background of this Regent?”

Gu Huaiyu’s spies in Eastern Liao hadn’t managed to penetrate the inner circle, so his knowledge of the Regent was superficial. He knew the man was the Emperor’s uncle, relatively young, and possessed the “look of a hawk and the stride of a wolf”—a troublesome opponent.

“Hmm? Tell me.”

Pei Jingyi’s finger rapped heavily on the words “Regent.” The candlelight reflected a deep, cold glint in his eyes. “Yelü Chi. He’s twenty-seven this year. His father was the old geezer I shot through the heart at Mount Wu.”

Gu Huaiyu’s hand holding the paper paused for a moment. As expected of a novel’s protagonist; he only ever provoked the most difficult characters.

“Yelü Chi is different from other Eastern Liao men.”

Pei Jingyi pulled a handkerchief from his robe and casually wiped the ink stains from his hand, speaking with practiced ease. “Eastern Liao has been fed on Great Chen’s tribute for so many years that their civil and military officials have lost their will to fight. They only want a comfortable, stable life.”

A spark popped in the candlelight, casting deep shadows beneath Pei Jingyi’s brow. “Only Yelü Chi is a true hawk. His appetite is massive; he wants to swallow Great Chen whole.”

Gu Huaiyu showed no fear. Instead, a playful smile touched his lips. “With such a fine appetite, isn’t he afraid of bursting his stomach?”

Pei Jingyi stared at him, his lips involuntarily curving upward.

With such composure and grace, if only Gu Huaiyu’s body were a bit sturdier, perhaps he truly could have donned armor and commanded thousands. He would have been the kind of man Pei Jingyi would be willing to follow into battle, fighting side-by-side.

What a pity.

Night deepened, the water clock dripping toward the third watch. Gu Huaiyu was exhausted; his frail body couldn’t hold out any longer. No matter how urgent the matters were, they had to be handled one by one.

Yun Niang had already ordered the bath to be warmed and the soft towels and fragrant balms to be laid out in the outer room.

Gu Huaiyu disliked being naked in front of others. Even with Yun Niang, who had followed him for years, he only allowed her to escort him as far as the screen.

There was nothing special to see of this body. It was thin and frail beyond measure. Even that place was delicate and clean, matching the rest of his sickly frame.

At least it saved him the trouble of marrying and fathering children.

Gu Huaiyu emerged from the bath in a plain white silk sleeping robe, his bare feet stepping onto the cold floor tiles. He looked around; his silk slippers were nowhere to be found.

The bedroom was quiet, the charcoal crackling softly. Pei Jingyi was poking at the silver-charcoal in the brazier.

Gu Huaiyu was so tired his eyelids were heavy, yet his voice remained tinged with lazy weariness. “Is General Pei planning to keep watch for the night?”

Pei Jingyi didn’t look up, focusing intently on the coals. “I was worried the fire wasn’t bright enough. I wouldn’t want My Lord to freeze.”

Gu Huaiyu narrowed his eyes, feeling dizzy with sleep. He decided to just walk toward the bed barefoot. But the moment his jade-like toes touched the freezing floor, Pei Jingyi’s leisurely voice drifted over. “My Lord has a body worth a thousand gold. What if you catch a cold?”

In two or three strides, Pei Jingyi was there. He bent down and scooped Gu Huaiyu up, his arm sliding under the knees, lifting him effortlessly in a horizontal carry.

Gu Huaiyu didn’t even struggle. He found the warmth of the man’s body to be just right and actually leaned closer to the heat source. He lazily raised his eyes. “General Pei truly surprises me today.”

The body in Pei Jingyi’s arms was shockingly light, so thin it felt as though it might break at a touch.

He instinctively adjusted his strength, even softening his breathing. “There is much My Lord doesn’t know. When I’m not being a scoundrel, I’m actually quite likable.”

Gu Huaiyu let out a soft “Oh?” and asked knowingly, “So according to you… you were being a scoundrel on purpose before?”

Pei Jingyi paused, for once at a loss for words. He gently set the man down on the bed. Just as he was about to withdraw, he felt a sharp tug at his scalp.

“Has General Pei finally recognized his position?”

Gu Huaiyu’s long fingers were wound tightly around a lock of Pei Jingyi’s hair, coiled three times around his knuckles like a tightened leash. He whispered his praise: “You’ve learned how to be a dog.”

Dog this, dog that. Will it ever end?

Pei Jingyi’s gaze darkened instantly, a vein throbbing at his temple. He abruptly grabbed the brocade quilt and pulled it over the arrogant, sickly man’s head, covering him completely. “I am clumsy and lack the skill to serve you well. I hope My Lord can forgive me,” he said through gritted teeth.

Yet, that lock of hair remained in Gu Huaiyu’s grip, and he refused to let go.

Beneath the quilt, the man didn’t rush to uncover himself. Instead, he let out a laugh—a voice heavy with sleep, yet laced with a dangerous tenderness.

“Bark for me twice, and I’ll let you go.”

How was he supposed to bark?

How else does a dog bark?

Pei Jingyi’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth creaked. He stared at the hair wrapped around those white, jade-like fingers, and a single thought crashed through his mind—

Is this still the same ruthless, state-saving Gu Huaiyu from this afternoon?

Damn it. This is truly unbearable.