He emphasized every single word.
“—Look. Down. On. You.”
Pei Jingyi’s fingers tightened on the armrest. With a sharp crack, the wooden frame was snapped in half by his bare hand.
His expression turned incredibly dark, his jaw working as his teeth ground together, but he forced his explosive rage down into a low, ragged breath.
Gu Huaiyu acted as if he were admiring a trapped beast. His thumb slowly and deliberately traced Pei Jingyi’s tense jawline. “Talking about serving the country… All you want, Pei Du, is for me to look at you.”
“You aren’t willing to kneel, and you aren’t content to stand. Even being a dog makes you feel aggrieved—”
He let out a soft laugh, his fingertip lightly tapping Pei Jingyi’s tight lips. “With this pathetic attitude of yours, do you really think you’re worthy of my respect?”
Pei Jingyi stared at the face so close to his own, his eyes so dark they looked like they might bleed.
He was a man who never cared how others saw him. Whether people called him arrogant or cursed him as a brute, it was all like a passing breeze; he wouldn’t even twitch an eyebrow.
But for some reason, only when it came to Gu Huaiyu…
Why did this one sentence make his chest ache with such pressure that even his breath tasted of iron?
Gu Huaiyu suddenly let go, casually using a handkerchief to wipe his fingers. “In my house, a good dog gets a bone. As for a vicious cur…”
“I will break its spine.”
He paused, and with a flick of his finger, the silk handkerchief fluttered down onto Pei Jingyi’s face. “If General Pei wants to enter my sight, he must first learn how to wag his tail.”
Pei Jingyi snatched the handkerchief, the familiar, faint fragrance swirling around his nose.
His gaze darkened. Without a word, he pulled open his collar and carefully tucked the handkerchief into an inner pocket close to his chest. “Lord Chancellor, does this count as wagging my tail?”
Gu Huaiyu was stunned for a moment before he burst into loud laughter, the small mole at the corner of his eye trembling with his mirth.
“A fine wag,” he said, clapping his hands while leaning against the carriage window to study Pei Jingyi. “You’re starting to look the part of a dog.”
Pei Jingyi stared at the beauty who laughed like a collapsing mountain of spring blossoms. His eyes turned predatory, and his tongue subconsciously licked his dry lips.
Just then, the carriage slowed to a halt.
A voice called out respectfully from outside: “Lord Chancellor, we have arrived.”
Pei Jingyi leaped from the carriage and smoothly dropped to one knee.
Gu Huaiyu lifted the curtain to exit. Just as he raised his silken boot, it was caught and held steady by a large, warm hand.
Pei Jingyi’s palm was large enough to completely envelop the sole of his foot. His thumb brushed inconspicuously against the bottom of the boot before he slowly guided the foot onto his own back. “Step firmly, Lord Chancellor.”
When Gu Huaiyu’s boot hit the ground, it kicked up a fine spray of snow. He glanced at the General still kneeling on the ground and suddenly reached out to pat the top of his head. “General Pei wags his tail quite well.”
Pei Jingyi looked up and purposefully rubbed his head against Gu Huaiyu’s palm, like a fierce hound begging for a reward. “This tail of mine was born specifically for the Lord Chancellor.”
He really did have a “tail.” Every time he cleaned his weapons or entered the bathing sheds at camp, people would jeer about the “Wolf-Tooth Lance” coming through.
That nickname wasn’t for nothing. But if that “tail” ever actually wagged in front of the Lord Chancellor, he feared this precious, noble statesman would turn pale with shock.
Gu Huaiyu chuckled a few times and stepped through the snow into the Chancellor’s Estate.
He had just rounded the spirit screen when he saw Liu Erlang waiting anxiously under the eaves. Upon seeing him, the butler hurried forward. “Lord Chancellor, someone from the Court of Judicial Review is here!”
“Oh?” Gu Huaiyu didn’t stop, his cloak dragging a long trail through the snow. “Nie Jin?”
Liu Erlang’s expression turned strange. He lowered his voice. “He arrived at noon. Master Nie brought a troop of bailiffs, but he refuses to even enter the tea hall. He won’t drink tea, won’t sit down—they’ve all been standing out in the courtyard for three hours now.”
“Oh?” Gu Huaiyu raised an eyebrow.
“The snow in the yard wasn’t cleared properly. The bailiffs are all huddling and stamping their feet to stay warm, but he’s standing there straight as a flagpole. His official robes are covered in frost. If you hadn’t returned when you did, I was worried he’d freeze into a monument right there in the yard.”
Gu Huaiyu finally paused. “He wouldn’t even accept a cup of hot tea from me?”
Liu Erlang smiled bitterly. “He wouldn’t even stand under the eaves. It’s like he’s afraid of catching the ‘air’ of our house. He looks more like he’s here to arrest someone than to visit.”
Gu Huaiyu continued walking and instructed, “Bring him in.”
Liu Erlang hesitated. “But he’s here to see Master Plum.”
Gu Huaiyu said calmly, “Then bring him in alone.”
Snow fell silently. Nie Jin stood in the courtyard, a thick layer of frost having accumulated on his official robes.
It had been a full half-month since he last saw Master Plum at the disaster relief site.
During those two weeks, the Court of Judicial Review had known no peace.
