The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 101 When A Child Travels Far, A Mother Worries

The next day, Tang Shen visited the Marshal of the Western Expedition’s residence to visit Li Jingde.

Li Jingde wasn’t home initially, and after waiting for about an hour, the general entered the residence in full military attire, striding purposefully. As soon as he saw Tang Shen, he remarked, “Tang Shen, I heard you had quite the argument with Su Wenyun at the banquet hosted by Youzhou Prefecture’s governor, Ji Zhaosi, yesterday. The two of you clashed fiercely and parted on bad terms?”

Tang Shen’s first thought was: So, General Li can use two idioms in one sentence?

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Sighing, Tang Shen replied, “Indeed, General. I didn’t expect such an embarrassing incident to reach even your ears. Truly, good news never travels far, but bad news spreads like wildfire.”

Li Jingde waved dismissively. “Oh, don’t take it to heart. Not many people know, but this is my territory. What goes on here doesn’t escape my eyes. So, what did Su Wenyun do this time? Tell me, and I’ll help you settle the score since he’s on my turf now.”

Tang Shen raised his cupped hands slightly. “Thank you for your kindness, General, but it’s nothing significant. There’s no need to trouble you over it.”

Since Tang Shen declined to elaborate, Li Jingde didn’t press the matter. Despite his claim, the general was busy training troops and defending against the Liao. He hardly had the time or inclination to seek revenge on Su Wenyun for Tang Shen’s sake; his offer was made more out of courtesy so when Tang Shen refused he didn’t say any more on it.

“You came to see me for a reason, I assume?”

Tang Shen paused before responding, “Indeed, I have a request.” With that, he rose and moved closer to Li Jingde, bowing deeply in respect. Startled, Li Jingde quickly helped him up. “Tang daren, what is this about? There’s no need for such formalities. This kind of bow is reserved for the heavens, the emperor, or a mentor—not for me. Just tell me what you need.”

Tang Shen replied, “Since you’ve asked directly, I won’t hold back. I came today to borrow your token of authority.”

Li Jingde’s eyes dilated slightly, and his expression turned unreadable. His rugged face, now covered with a full beard after months in Youzhou, made his thoughts even harder to discern. Yet, it was clear that Li Jingde, contrary to his outward demeanor, was neither foolish nor impulsive.

After a long pause, Li Jingde asked, “Is it for urgent use?”

Tang Shen answered, “It’s more of a precaution.”

Li Jingde laughed heartily. “Understood. At the end of last year in the capital, you helped me out several times. A mere token is a trivial matter. Come with me, and I’ll get it for you.”

Tang Shen followed him to the study.

The study was lined with bookshelves, which were filled with neatly arranged volumes, including the Four Books and Five Classics as well as beginner texts like the Three-Character Classic and Thousand-Character Essay. A quick glance revealed that most of the books appeared brand-new, their spines uncreased—a clear indication that they served more for show than use.

Li Jingde retrieved the General of the Western Expedition’s token and handed it to Tang Shen. “This token won’t mobilize armies, but within Youzhou, it will allow you to act with impunity.”

Tang Shen bowed again. “Thank you, General. I’ll return it to you within half a month.”

Li Jingde waved him off. “No need, no need. It’s just a token. If you lose it, I’ll make another one. I can even scold Wang Zifeng about it. Your senior brother, now he’s a real piece of work. I might say it here to your face in Youzhou, but back in the capital, I’d say it to his face too! This whole Silver Pull Division nonsense and its silver contracts—what a mess! The people have no way of making a living.”

Tang Shen thought to himself, That’s not how ‘the people have no way to make a living’ is used…

Li Jingde ranted about Tang Shen’s senior brother, Wang Zifeng, for a while. But since Tang Shen had just borrowed the token, he felt it unwise to argue. Thankfully, Li Jingde soon shifted his attention to criticizing Su Wenyun instead. Wang Zhen was truly meticulous in his conduct, leaving no openings for criticism. No matter how much Li Jingde wanted to curse him, all he could say was that Wang Zhen was overly calculating and that the Silver Pull Division was troublesome.

But when it came to Su Wenyun, Li Jingde had a lot more to say.

“Don’t think I’m joking— I can’t stand that little white face either. Two years ago, when I was in the capital, he had just become Junior Minister of the Court of Judicial Review. A soldier from Youzhou was involved in a case that reached the Court of Judicial Review. That little white face showed no mercy! He practically tormented my soldier to death right in front of me. I’ve remembered his name—Su Wenyun—ever since. Don’t underestimate him. Beneath that polished exterior, he’s even more ruthless than your senior brother!”

Tang Shen murmured, “My senior brother might still be worse.”

Li Jingde didn’t quite catch that. “What did you say?”

Tang Shen quickly corrected himself. “I meant, you’re absolutely right, General. I’ll be cautious.”

Li Jingde waved dismissively again. “Bah, I’m just venting. You’re not like those scheming officials—more straightforward. That’s why I like you.”

After this, Li Jingde returned to the military camp, and Tang Shen took his leave.

Watching Li Jingde ride off on his steed, Tang Shen fiddled with the token in his sleeve, sighing in his heart. How could Su Wenyun really compare to my senior brother?

Years ago, Su Wenyun had been inexperienced enough to draw Li Jingde’s ire. But if it had been his senior brother, Wang Zifeng, the general would likely have been manipulated into gratitude, offering thanks with a banner of appreciation!

Tang Shen also realized the benefits of publicly quarreling with Su Wenyun during the governor’s banquet the previous day. While the incident hadn’t caused a major uproar, the right people had undoubtedly taken notice, including Li Jingde.

With this setup, Tang Shen and Su Wenyun could now act without suspicion, covering for each other whenever necessary. Their carefully orchestrated conflict lent credibility to their actions, enabling them to execute their plans without drawing undue attention.

No one else was suitable for this task except Tang Shen and Su Wenyun. This was because many officials knew that three years ago, during the collapse of the Cizhou bridge, Tang Shen and Su Wenyun had developed a grudge against each other, and their relationship had remained tense ever since. With this background, if the two of them had a heated argument, it would seem perfectly natural.

Was this part of Zhao Fu’s calculations when he assigned us this mission? Tang Shen wondered. If so, his shrewdness was truly terrifying.

After preparing for several days in Youzhou City, on the 6th day of the 4th month, Lin Xu, the Director of the Silver Pull Division, came to visit Tang Shen with a few men. Lin Xu arranged for the men to wait at the posthouse before meeting Tang Shen alone.

“This lower official greets the imperial envoy,” Lin Xu said, bowing. “Yesterday afternoon, a letter from Wang xianggong arrived from Shengjing. The matters discussed in the letter have already been handled. The men I brought today are all absolutely trustworthy. Would daren like to meet them?”

“Bring them in.”

Lin Xu quickly ushered the men into the room.

He brought in four middle-aged men. Two of them were burly and well-fed, exuding the air of wealthy merchants. The other two were lean but energetic, with ruddy faces that hinted at a comfortable lifestyle. All four appeared to be merchants, but their demeanor was unusual—they bowed their heads respectfully, standing quietly to one side without the typical nervousness of merchants meeting a high-ranking official.

Tang Shen scrutinized the men, his gaze finally settling on one lean and sharp-featured man. This man’s deeply defined features bore a faint resemblance to Li Jingde. Though neither had Liao ancestry, their appearances were somewhat similar. The man stood with his hands clasped respectfully in front of him, exuding a calm and composed demeanor.

Noticing Tang Shen’s focus, Lin Xu quickly explained, “This is the person recommended by Wang xianggong.”

Tang Shen looked over, surprised.

Lin Xu continued, “In the letter, Wang xianggong mentioned that all four men are trustworthy, and you may choose any of them. However, if you select this man, you can rest assured. Wang xianggong specifically stated that the matters you’ve heard, speculated about, or guessed were uncovered by him.”

This simple statement stirred waves in Tang Shen’s heart.

So Lin Xu truly is a confidant of my senior brother!

For my senior brother to openly mention to him that the Silver Pull Division has a network for gathering intelligence on Liao, it seems I can trust Lin Xu more deeply.

Tang Shen maintained his composure and said, “Then it shall be him.”

The middle-aged man was quick-witted and immediately stepped forward. “This commoner’s name is Qiao Yin, the ninth in my family, so people call me Qiao Jiu. I am willing to serve daren and will not disappoint.”

Tang Shen asked, “Do you understand tea?”

Qiao Jiu replied, “Yes. I’ve been involved in many businesses. In my youth, I traveled south and once helped a friend in the tea trade, though I haven’t dealt in tea for years.”

“Good. Within a day, I need you to become a tea merchant. You hail from Gusu Prefecture in Jiangnan, selling premium-grade Biluochun tea.”

Qiao Jiu agreed repeatedly, showing no hesitation.

Lin Xu departed with the other men, leaving Qiao Jiu at the posthouse.

By evening, a letter from Wang Zhen finally arrived at the posthouse for Tang Shen.

Tang Shen eagerly opened the letter, written on fine rice paper. Wang Zhen’s elegant handwriting unfurled across the page, its graceful strokes reflecting the writer’s refined character.

In the letter, Wang Zhen mentioned that he had sent Lin Xu to assist Tang Shen in selecting people. He told Tang Shen not to overthink it, as he had no intention of interfering. He explained that the Silver Pull Division had long had arrangements in Liao, and it was only natural to hand this task over to Tang Shen now.

“…Today, I admired a weeping crabapple tree with Sir. Its cascading branches reminded me of a beauty’s flowing hair. Thinking of you still in Youzhou amidst endless yellow sands and a spring wind that refuses to cross the border, I couldn’t help but sigh. Sir asked me why I was troubled, and I confessed that I missed my junior brother. Knowing how you love to tease me, yet always fail to gain the upper hand, I thought to share Sir’s jest with you.”

The first long section of the letter was about serious matters, and Tang Shen read it with full concentration. When he reached the end, Wang Zhen suddenly began talking about some amusing personal stories, and Tang Shen’s eyes lit up. During the half-month he had spent in Youzhou City, Tang Shen had been tense almost every day, never relaxing for a moment. Now, upon reading Wang Zhen’s letter, his heart felt warm, and he murmured softly, “Senior Brother, I miss you too.”

The letter continued.

“Sir said, ‘An old saying fits Zi Feng’s sentiment perfectly.’

‘I asked, “What saying?”’

‘He sighed and said, “A mother’s heart worries as her child travels far.”

‘Junior Brother, do you think I should fret over you or not?’”

Tang Shen chuckled, touched by Wang Zhen’s self-deprecating humor. Running his fingers over the ink, he mused aloud, “My senior brother told such a joke, even mocking himself, just to ease my burdens and keep me from overexerting myself.”

His longing for Wang Zifeng grew even stronger, like the burning intensity of the liquor that Youzhou soldiers loved, searing Tang Shen’s heart and mind.

However, after only a moment, Su Wenyun’s words resurfaced in his mind, causing Tang Shen’s expression to turn cold once again.

Three days ago, Su Wenyun could never have imagined that Tang Shen would rebuke him so decisively and without question, accusing him of slandering Wang Zhen and damaging his reputation. Su Wenyun had actually been taken aback and believed Tang Shen’s lies, thinking he had truly misunderstood Wang Zhen. By putting himself in Wang Zhen’s shoes, he even went so far as to apologize to him.

But no one knew that Tang Shen had actually been momentarily swayed by Su Wenyun’s insinuations! His vehement defense had been more out of loyalty than evidence.

Wang Zhen was twenty-nine and still unmarried. The reasons are likely three.

The first was that he hadn’t found anyone he deemed worthy, as his standards are too high.

The second was that he was impotent. Unlike others who might marry and blame their wives for infertility, Wang Zhen would never harm another person like that.

Or… 

“Wang Zifeng prefers men?”

Tang Shen frowned deeply, his face twisted with conflicted thoughts. After much deliberation, he sighed. “Which is better—impotence or being a cut sleeve? Either way, it doesn’t matter. Even if my senior brother prefers men, he’s still my senior brother.” (TN: cut sleeve: A historical euphemism for homosexuality, originating from a tale involving Emperor Ai of Han)

Unconsciously, his fingers tightened around the thin paper, nearly crumpling it. But once he made peace with the thought, he felt a strange sense of relief—perhaps even anticipation.

A faint smile played on his lips as he murmured, “I will stay by his side for life and treat him as family.”

Resolving his thoughts, Tang Shen pulled out paper and ink to write a reply to Wang Zhen.

The next morning, Tang Shen discreetly packed his belongings, leaving instructions for his page boy to remain in Youzhou while he crossed into Liao territory alone. Before departing, he handed the letter to a government worker.

“How long to Shengjing?” Tang Shen asked.

The government worker replied, “Since this isn’t military correspondence, we can’t use express routes. It will take six days. If you need, I can expedite it to arrive in four.”

“No need. Six days is fine.”

“Yes, daren.”

When delivering the letter, Tang Shen ran into Su Wenyun.

The two met in the corridor and exchanged glances.

Su Wenyun sneered with a feigned smile, “Tang daren, what a coincidence.”

Tang Shen cupped his hands in salute. “This lower official greets the esteemed Right Vice Minister of Works.”

Su Wenyun cast him a sidelong glance, took a step forward, and left. Just as they brushed past, Tang Shen whispered, “Tonight, at midnight.”

Su Wenyun’s steps briefly faltered, but he continued forward without turning back.

That night, the city of Youzhou was silent, the only sound the howling spring winds rustling through the poplar trees, creating a constant rustling noise.

On the eastern side of the city, two horse-drawn carriages laden with military provisions clattered toward the city gate.

As the carriages approached, the guards at the gate stopped them and called out loudly, “What are these carriages? What business do you have leaving the city at this hour?”

The man accompanying the carriages, dressed as a servant, stepped forward with documents in hand, smiling apologetically. “Daren, I am a runner from the Silver Pull Divison. A batch of military funds just arrived, urgently needed by General Li, the Marshal of the Western Expedition. We have no choice but to transport it at night. Please see the official seal of the Silver Pull Division and the token of General Li.”

The soldiers of Youzhou’s garrison and the Silver Pull Division never got along. The lead guard examined the documents and confirmed the seals were authentic, including General Li’s token.

The reason the Silver Pull Division was so hated was because other than the fact they supervised all the military provisions there was also another reason. It had always been notorious for its unconventional ways. Nighttime deliveries like this were not uncommon.

The guard hesitated, wanting to create some trouble, but another guard whispered, “It’s General Li’s order. We both know his temper. Let them pass.”

The first guard thought for a moment, then sighed in resignation. “Alright, go ahead.”

The city gates creaked open, and the guards didn’t even bother inspecting the carriages. The two vehicles rolled out into the night without a hitch.

This covert departure of the military funds didn’t raise any alarms in Youzhou. Not even General Li Jingde himself was aware that he had supposedly requested such a transfer in the dead of night.

April 8th. Thick clouds blanketed the sky, obscuring stars and moon alike.

At the Youzhou posthouse, Su Wenyun hadn’t slept all night. He sat at his desk, pouring cup after cup of tea for himself. As dawn broke, he reached for another cup, only to find the teapot empty. His stomach was already uncomfortably bloated with cold tea.

Meanwhile, Tang Shen and his party had successfully exited Youzhou without alerting any parties.

Upon reaching the Song-Liao border, the two carriages transformed. The young man who had claimed to be a Silver Pull Division runner revealed himself as Qiao Jiu’s biological son. Qiao Jiu now posed as a tea merchant from Jiangnan, with Tang Shen and others as fellow traders and Lu Shen among the group as their martial escorts.

The “military funds” in the carriages were now sacks of tea leaves.

At the border, Qiao Jiu produced pre-arranged clearance documents from the Youzhou government, allowing them to cross seamlessly into Liao territory.

Upon entering Liao territory, everything initially seemed no different from the civilian areas of Song. The towns and inns were well-stocked and bustling. But as they ventured further inland, towns became sparser, replaced by nomadic tribes scattered across the landscape. The occasional small towns provided opportunities to replenish supplies.

One stark difference stood out, though.

At the Song-Liao border, the locals had greeted them with hostility, glaring with deep-seated enmity. Yet, deeper into Liao territory, among those untouched by past wars, the attitude shifted to one of arrogance and disdain, openly displayed without reservation.

Battling fierce winds, the group journeyed for six days before arriving, dust-covered and weary, at the Liao capital of Nanjing, known as Xijin Prefecture City.

At the towering city gates, Qiao Jiu, hunched over and obsequious, handed bribes to the guards. Standing before the grandiose gates of Xijin, Tang Shen tilted his head back, staring at the large characters etched above the entrance. He felt a wave of emotion and couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Gongzi, have you spotted something of interest?”

Tang Shen turned toward the speaker—Qiao Jiu’s son, currently playing the role of a servant. Tang Shen, meanwhile, was posing as Qiao Jiu’s son.

Wrapped in coarse cloth to shield against the sand, Tang Shen’s face was mostly hidden, save for his eyes. He nodded, pointing at the two characters above the gate. “These characters are well-written and even in Han script.”

Qiao Xing replied, “Nanjing wasn’t always called Xijin. The name was changed over a decade ago by the Grand Preceptor of Liao, who also wrote these characters himself.” Lowering his voice, he added, “If gongzi likes the Grand Preceptor’s calligraphy, it’s not impossible to obtain one of his works.”

Tang Shen chuckled softly. Liao rulers writing in Han characters—how good could it really be?

Though the Grand Preceptor’s calligraphy was decent, it was no match for greats like Fu Wei and Wang Zhen.

Realizing his flattery had missed the mark, Qiao Xing wisely fell silent.

After handing over three money pouches, Qiao Jiu finally satisfied the greedy guards and secured passage into the city. The guards, now content, didn’t bother questioning their purpose.

Once inside, the group settled at an inn prearranged by Qiao Jiu.

Standing by the window of his room, Tang Shen looked out over Xijin. The servant helping him unpack couldn’t fathom what he was seeing. But Tang Shen knew.

What he saw wasn’t just Xijin—it was the vibrant, thriving Beijing of a thousand years into the future!

Indeed, the Nanjing Xijin Prefecture of the Liao State was exactly what would become Beijing a thousand years later.

The Liao State was largely composed of tribal alliances, with few large cities within its borders. The most important were its five capitals: Shangjing Linhuang Prefecture, Zhongjing Dading Prefecture, Dongjing Liaoyang Prefecture, Xijing Datong Prefecture, and Nanjing Xijin Prefecture. Shangjing Linhuang Prefecture was the main capital of the Liao Dynasty, while the other four served as auxiliary capitals.

Standing in Xijin, Tang Shen felt a wave of complex emotions. However, he didn’t even know if, a thousand years later, this land beneath his feet would truly become the Beijing he remembered.

Closing his eyes with a heavy sigh, Tang Shen asked, “How’s Qiao Jiu’s side?”

The attendant, who was also privy to the situation and reportedly a trusted aide of Qiao Jiu, replied, “The master has made all necessary preparations. Since it’s already late today, he wishes daren to rest for now. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the Liao State’s trading houses to seek an opportunity.”

Tang Shen nodded. After the attendant left, he blew out the candle, and the room was immediately engulfed in darkness.

Far away in the capital city of Shengjing, within the Minister of Revenue’s residence, Wang Zhen returned from the palace. That day, the emperor had summoned him for a lengthy conversation.

Since the empress dowager’s passing and Zhao Fu’s grave illness, the monarch’s demeanor had noticeably changed. Tang Shen, stationed in Youzhou, remained unaware, but Wang Zhen felt it keenly.

Upon his return, Wang Zhen began changing out of his formal attire with the help of a page boy when his steward knocked and entered with a letter in hand. “Gongzi, a letter from Youzhou.”

Wang Zhen raised an eyebrow. His voice was smooth and clear. “From Jing Ze?”

“Yes.”

A slight smile crept across Wang Zhen’s lips. “Hold off on changing. You may leave.”

The page boy bowed and exited. Wang Zhen, still partially dressed, approached the letter. His slender fingers hovered over the envelope, lingering on the inscription: “To my honored senior brother.”

Opening it, Wang Zhen barely finished the first line before chuckling. He stared at the words for a long moment.

The letter began, in calligraphy style identical to Wang Zhen’s own:

“Honored Senior Brother,

I bow in utmost respect…”

Wang Zhen stopped reading and looked at the opening lines with a pensive smile. Turning to his steward, he asked gently, “You studied alongside me in the Langya Wang family. Am I mistaken in recalling that such phrases are reserved for letters addressed to one’s parents?”

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The steward replied honestly, “You’re correct, gongzi. Those terms are indeed used for one’s elders.”

Wang Zhen laughed softly, shaking the letter. “A letter from my ‘son’ deserves careful attention. You may leave.”

AN: Tang Shen: Daddy, am I your most beloved child?

Wang Zhen: Of course, darling. Where do you want Daddy to show you how much I care? [smiles]

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

Top Dupe CH 100 The Privilege Of Making You Burn

“Your reaction is so quick,” Luo Yu said, doubting whether Gu Xiaowei was a habitual offender, “Have you been with someone before? Otherwise, how are you so skilled?”

In the previous second, there was no room for resistance, but in the next, he sprang into an upright pose?

“No experience. I’ve just imagined it a lot,” Gu Xiaowei replied.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Luo Yu was momentarily stunned. “Why haven’t I thought about this?”

“Because you’re more upright than me,” Gu Xiaowei said with full sincerity.

“…” Luo Yu was unwilling to admit defeat. He patted his shoulder. “You strangled me so hard earlier that my bones hurt. Massage it again.”

“Alright.” Gu Xiaowei leaned in closer to his ear and said, “Then don’t go for a spa treatment.”

Luo Yu genuinely laughed at that, nearly choking on his laughter. Clearly, Gu Xiaowei had some misconceptions about “spa treatment.”

“Do you feel this is real now?” Luo Yu asked.

“A little.”

“Only a little?”

“Maybe you’ll regret it by tomorrow morning,” Gu Xiaowei said casually.

Luo Yu chuckled. He wasn’t one of those young men addicted to applause and cheer. He knew what he wanted, the ways to get it, and what was worth pursuing and what should be let go.

“Then don’t make me regret it.” Luo Yu patted Gu Xiaowei’s hand lightly. “Let’s go, classmate Gu. Let’s go down and eat the two bowls of noodles that have turned into clumps.”

“En.”

They ended up sitting at the dining table. Luo Yu took a big bite of noodles, but because his tongue was numb, the food had no taste. Meanwhile, Gu Xiaowei’s lower lip was torn and hurt every time it touched the broth, but he was skilled at enduring pain, his expression completely neutral.

Luo Yu said with utmost seriousness, “I cooked these. Even if your stomach bursts and your lips split to the root of your ears, you’ll finish.”

Gu Xiaowei gave a neutral response and took a big bite. His lower lip’s wound split further, and some noodles became tinged with faint pink. Luo Yu couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

At that moment, Ah Yan came by, preparing to pour water. His gaze landed on Gu Xiaowei and squinted.

“Brother Gu, you still haven’t removed your makeup, huh? Why do you look so… appealing this afternoon.”

Luo Yu joined in the teasing. “Exactly. Looks like you hid to secretly use up a box of tissues.”

Ah Yan immediately refuted, “If it were really Brother Gu, one box of tissues wouldn’t be enough. At least three!”

“Oh, so intense?” Luo Yu said with a grin, sipping the broth without a care.

“Wait! Brother Gu, your lip’s split! This is going to hurt when you remove makeup tonight!” Ah Yan exclaimed, placing his cup down and bustling into action. “We need to find some medicine to treat that. Who knows if Director Sheng will notice during close-up shots. If Director Sheng discovers this, he’ll definitely scold you!”

“It’s fine. It’ll heal by tonight.”

With that, Gu Xiaowei stood, tidied the dishes on the table, and moved on.

“Tonight? Are you Wolverine? You heal that fast?” Luo Yu teased, reclining in his chair.

Gu Xiaowei didn’t respond but brushed his fingers against Luo Yu’s lower lip as he passed by—a clear sign of both warning and implied threat. Luo Yu’s heartstrings tightened as he closed his eyes, fearing that Gu Xiaowei would kiss him in front of everyone. Only when Gu Xiaowei entered the kitchen did Luo Yu begin to relax.

Luo Yu glanced at his phone: “Still a few hours to sleep. I need energy. Otherwise, I’ll doze off during night shoots.”

“En,” Gu Xiaowei responded softly.

Luo Yu went upstairs to his room, lay on his bed, and skimmed his script. His thoughts wandered to what had happened earlier. Not only Gu Xiaowei but even he himself found it surreal. 

After all that’s Gu Xiaowei. In his previous life, they were such good partners, sharing everything with each other while respecting one another. They were irreplaceable in each other’s hearts, yet Luo Yu really didn’t think about it in any other way.

How did it turn out like this in this life?

Moreover… upon reflecting carefully, it seemed that Gu Xiaowei gradually grew closer to him, relying on him more obviously than in the previous life.

From their elevator encounter during the audition to the moments on set where Gu Xiaowei handed him a peppermint candy under the pretext of teaching him how to “rub off on popularity,” to Gu Xiaowei always seeking him out to practice lines—everything felt planned, like Gu Xiaowei was playing the long game.

Before he knew it, his eyelids grew heavy, and the script slipped from his hand as he dozed off.

Someone entered his room, placing the script on the side and pulling him up, repositioning his head onto the pillow.

Luo Yu was about to open his eyes but then he heard “Senior Brother, it’s me, just go back to sleep” and allowed himself to slip into dreams.

Gu Xiaowei lay beside him, staring at his sleeping face for a long moment before gently prodding his lower lip with a finger—as though ensuring he was real.

When the alarm rang, Luo Yu hadn’t slept enough. He groggily reached for his phone to silence it but instead touched a nose. A sharp pain bit into his finger.

“What the hell!” Luo Yu shot awake, seeing a red mark on his index finger. “You bit me hard on purpose, didn’t you?”

Gu Xiaowei sat up lazily, his hair sticking up from sleep and his face looking innocent yet smug. As if he had just finished rolling around in between the sheets.

“You shouldn’t have touched randomly,” he said.

“It was an accident! I only touched your neck and above!” Luo Yu protested, trying to defend himself.

Gu Xiaowei raised an eyebrow. “Could it be you wanted to touch somewhere else?”

Clearly, Gu Xiaowei was making a reference to the thing that required “three boxes of tissues.”

Luo Yu threw off the blanket, got up, and headed toward the bathroom. As he reached the door, he paused and mimicked a pose from Gu Xiaowei’s recent vlog shoot, turning his head dramatically and smirking. “Brother allows your willfulness.”

With that, he boldly strode into the bathroom.

Brushing his teeth, he noticed Gu Xiaowei watching him from behind the door.

He struck this pose because, upon the first glance, he felt a strange itch in his heart. He couldn’t understand how someone like Gu Xiaowei could look so serious, yet the photo turned out to be so sultry.

But what he didn’t realize was that this side pose actually elongated his legs, and the lazy yet seductive smile was enough to spark a mental storm in anyone.

Luo Yu brushed his teeth and washed his face. When he looked up, he realized that Gu Xiaowei had been staring at him for quite a while.

“Are you a ghost? You’re walking with no sound.”

As Luo Yu passed by Gu Xiaowei, he lightly tapped his head before walking away.

After a while, Gu Xiaowei raised his hand to touch his forehead.

That evening, when they climbed the mountain toward that small hunting lodge, Luo Yu was walking ahead while Gu Xiaowei trailed behind, barely speaking. The only other discussion was between Luo Yu and Yan Jun about the plot.

“Captain Zhao has been gone for too long, and finally, I can appear when it’s time to wrap things up,” Yan Jun said half-jokingly.

“Hahaha, I finally waited for you before I die. Captain Zhao, after being a criminal detective for so many years, your brain is still not as sharp as mine as a forensic doctor.”

“Well, isn’t it because… there’s more than one criminal, and the case is full of confusion?” Yan Jun laughed, then turned around and glanced at Gu Xiaowei, whispering, “Teacher Gu seems very serious today. You two didn’t have any unpleasantness, did you? Is the CP my wife ships still going strong?”

“Ah?” Luo Yu turned around, confused, thinking to himself that today he almost became the first male actor to pass out because of a kiss. If Gu Xiaowei was still unhappy, Luo Yu wouldn’t know how to ignite himself to light up his mood.

But just that one glance, meeting Gu Xiaowei’s expression, Luo Yu was sure he had something on his mind.

This guy looked more determined than anyone, but in fact, he was more sensitive than anyone.

“Don’t worry. He’s adjusting his mood,” Luo Yu assured, even though he could feel Gu Xiaowei’s tension.

Before long, Luo Yu stumbled, and as he fell, Gu Xiaowei grabbed his waist in one swift motion and lifted him, saving him from falling.

Everyone watched in awe. Gu Xiaowei’s reflexes were inhumanly sharp.

“Ah… that scared me to death…” The passing photographer’s assistant, still shaken, said, “Teacher Gu’s skills are really impressive! If Teacher Luo were to get injured, Director Sheng’s hair would stand on end!”

“Hey, don’t mention Director Sheng’s hair—my own arm hairs are standing up!” Luo Yu gave Gu Xiaowei’s hand a light pat on the back and discreetly pressed his fingers against Gu Xiaowei’s, prompting him to let go.

The group continued climbing up. Seemingly to avoid detection, Gu Xiaowei moved ahead of Luo Yu.

At this moment, Nie Yangchen passed by Luo Yu with a knowing smile.

Luo Yu furrowed his brow in disdain and muttered, “You already have the face of a villain, and now you’re learning to smile like one. Really, how are you.”

“Fine, I was going to teach you some practical skills, but it seems… you’re better suited for a ‘pear blossoms with rain’ kind of vibe.”

After finishing speaking, Nie Yangchen started climbing upwards with large strides.

“What? What can you teach me? Don’t go!”

What does “pear blossoms with rain” even mean?

Luo Yu quickly chased after him, grabbing the hem of Nie Yangchen’s coat.

But Nie Yangchen, acting all protective if his chastity, lowered his voice and said, “Don’t grab me like that! Do you even know what kind of person Gu Xiaowei is?”

“What about him? What’s wrong?”

“Healthy waist, strong legs, good body!” Nie Yangchen tossed Luo Yu a look as if to warn him “don’t get me into trouble”.

Luo Yu clicked his tongue, thinking: That guy still hasn’t let go of that punch. His praise didn’t seem very genuine.

They reached the location of the hunting lodge, where the crew was busy with final preparations. Director Sheng stood with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as the filming countdown approached.

Out of nowhere, he called Gu Xiaowei over. “What happened to your lip?” Sheng Yunlan’s voice was cold.

The entire set seemed to freeze at that question, and all eyes turned toward them. Even Yan Jun, who wasn’t particularly fond of gossip, cast a curious glance. Only Luo Yu pretended to be engrossed in the script.

“It was bit accidentally,” Gu Xiaowei replied simply.

If anyone else had said that, it would have led to knowing glances and unspoken understanding. But this was Gu Xiaowei, and his lip’s slight redness added a sensual allure—like an otherwise flawless porcelain piece cracked by a fine red line, strikingly beautiful in its imperfection.

Luo Yu perked his ears, half worried Sheng Yunlan would ask “how did it happen,” but the conversation shifted instead.

“You’ll shoot a biting-the-lip scene later. Highlight the character’s psychological state. Can you grasp the emotion?”

Gu Xiaowei paused, lifting his gaze: “Because Wen Yuchi is dying. If we delay any further… he’ll truly be gone. There will no longer be anyone enjoying my paintings with red tea. In his eyes, my paintings are merely paintings—no extra interpretation, just things I see. This is the first time I’ve tried to save someone’s life. Pain can force me to suppress impulse and stay calm.”

“Exactly the emotion we’re looking for,” the director confirmed with a nod. “Go on.”

The scene returned to the previous night’s final confrontation:

Wen Yuchi fell to the ground after being shot. In the distance, Ding Bing pointed a gun at Lu Pingfeng, while Lu Pingfeng’s gun was aimed at Qin Lin, and Qin Lin’s weapon was directed at Wen Yuchi.

The standoff lasted for several tense moments before the director called the cut. The scene captured the peak of this confrontation.

Backlit by the sun, Qin Lin’s expression was menacing yet cold, his voice coaxing, “You have no chance of winning. Wen Yuchi was shot in the lung. Can you really watch him suffer like this and die? You could give him peace… and everyone would benefit.”

Lu Pingfeng didn’t waver. His voice remained steady, “The antidote is in the hunting lodge’s basement. Move old Han’s body out of the way, and you’ll find a broken wooden box. The antidote is beneath that.”

Qin Lin said mildly, “Ding Bing already has everything he could want. The antidote’s no longer necessary.”

Lu Pingfeng spoke in the same calm tone, “If he died without using the antidote, Secretary Qin, wouldn’t you be the ultimate winner in the end?”

At this moment, Ding Bing’s resolve wavered as he held his gun.

“Ding Bing, you don’t have much time left,” Lu Pingfeng’s voice dropped an octave, accompanied by a touch of sarcastic laughter.

It was this laugh that sent a sharp jolt through Ding Bing’s mind. He took two steps back, retreating towards the hunting lodge.

“Ding Bing, they won’t just hand over the antidote to you that easily!” Qin Lin shouted loudly, carefully observing Lu Pingfeng’s expressions and movements.

He thought that Lu Pingfeng would take the opportunity to check on Wen Yuchi’s condition, but Lu Pingfeng showed no signs of hesitation. Despite blocking Wen Yuchi’s path, he remained as calm as ever—unconcerned by Wen Yuchi’s life or death.

“Ding Bing, think carefully about your inheritance rules. Do they require the antidote?” Lu Pingfeng’s smile grew colder.

Although he wasn’t familiar with Ding Bing or Qin Lin, he had already unraveled all of their entangled interests and the subtle balance of power between them.

It was all merely human nature.

Hearing Lu Pingfeng’s reminder, Ding Bing became even more certain that he needed the antidote.

“If there’s no antidote in the basement, I’ll kill you!”

Ding Bing entered the basement cautiously, step by step, making sure the entrance had no traps before carefully opening the door and descending.

Sure enough, old Han’s body was still there. Ding Bing remained cautious, testing for traps with his gun before moving old Han’s body.

He soon found a broken storage box and carefully moved it aside, uncovering a black container slightly larger than a capsule, with dried blood on it.

Ding Bing felt a rush of joy—this had to be it!

It was the perfect hiding spot. Who would guess that the antidote would be right beside a body? They had assumed the antidote was stolen when they found it missing from old Han’s body.

Just as he picked up the container, he felt something pull sharply. A “click” sound was heard—the sound of a lighter igniting. Before he could react, fine powder began to pour down with a hiss, and he knew it was too late.

“Boom—!” The entire hunting lodge collapsed.

At the moment Qin Lin wavered, Lu Pingfeng’s gun fired, and as Qin Lin pulled the trigger, his shoulder was hit. His shot grazed Lu Pingfeng’s cheek.

In that moment, Qin Lin saw Lu Pingfeng biting his lower lip tightly, his gaze sharp and unwavering, a desperate gambler’s final, resolute gamble.

It was the first time he had ever seen such a human expression on Lu Pingfeng’s face.

Two more shots hit Qin Lin’s hands, causing the gun to fall from his grip.

Crumpling to the ground, Qin Lin laughed weakly as he looked at Lu Pingfeng.

“How does it feel to kill someone… Great Artist?”

He thought Lu Pingfeng would spare another look at the hunting lodge or stand in front of him to deliver the final blow, watching him die.

But Lu Pingfeng didn’t give him another glance. Instead, he turned swiftly to Wen Yuchi.

Wen Yuchi’s situation was dire. Blood had filled his lungs, and his breathing was becoming harder by the moment.

Lu Pingfeng pulled Qin Lin up from the ground, “Call them to get us out of here.”

“What if I don’t? Will you kill me? Or torture me? Do you even get a sense of achievement or satisfaction from this?” Qin Lin laughed hoarsely.

Lu Pingfeng searched Qin Lin’s body, as he was supposed to have communication tools as the observer sent by Zhuang Jie. However, after much searching, he found nothing.

“Hahaha… hahahahaha…” Qin Lin’s laughter grew more arrogant. “You seem anxious. Even if I call someone, Wen Yuchi won’t make it in time, will he? You should watch him suffer and die. This will be your lifelong inspiration.”

Lu Pingfeng gave Qin Lin a cold look and took his dagger before heading to Wen Yuchi.

Qin Lin stared at Lu Pingfeng’s figure. Backlit by the light, his tall form exuded an aura of cold detachment.

He bowed his head, enduring a torment that gnawed at his soul.

Qin Lin laughed, his grin growing increasingly manic. Then, with a voice filled with hysteria, he roared, “Yes, kill him—every second he holds on, it’s excruciating for him… Let him be free! Let him be free!”

Wen Yuchi’s breathing grew increasingly labored, yet his eyes remained fixed on Lu Pingfeng. It wasn’t the resentment of a dying man but rather an expression of deep concern.

Lu Pingfeng knelt down, pressing his hand against Wen Yuchi’s wound. “I… can’t give you relief…”

He lowered his head in defeat, a rare sight for someone like him. When he raised his gaze again, tears slid silently down his face.

A silent storm seemed to descend upon the world, drenching only Lu Pingfeng.

This scene wasn’t in the script—neither the lines nor Lu Pingfeng’s reaction. Yet, for some reason, the director didn’t call for a cut. All eyes remained glued to Lu Pingfeng, mesmerized by the raw emotion in his expression.

Despite the length of the shoot, it was the first time Lu Pingfeng had shed tears. During the initial script reading, the cast and crew had agreed that Lu Pingfeng was a character whose emotions were enigmatic. No one could tell whether he was ignorant of or complicit in the string of murders surrounding his artwork. He wasn’t supposed to cry—this was a man seemingly devoid of fear or attachment. Yet now, his tears revealed a crack in that cold, lifeless façade, offering a glimpse of a real, vulnerable human within.

Without needing a close-up, his trembling posture as he gripped the knife evoked a powerful urge to reach out and comfort him.

The director stayed silent, the cameramen continued rolling, and the crew held their breath, unwilling to break the moment.

Meanwhile, Wen Yuchi, weak and struggling for breath, managed to lift his hand and gently touch Lu Pingfeng’s face. Despite his condition, his voice was steady and firm. “Do you see the emergency kit by my leg? Open it and check if there’s anything useful inside.”

That emergency kit had been taken by Wen Yuchi when he dragged Qin Lin out of the camp.

Lu Pingfeng’s lips, already bloodied from biting, quickly opened the kit. Inside, there were anti-inflammatory drugs, painkillers, syringes, tools, and a piece of rubber tubing.

Upon grabbing the rubber tubing, Lu Pingfeng’s eyes lit up with sudden clarity.

Wen Yuchi gripped Lu Pingfeng’s hand firmly. “I have blood in my chest cavity. My lung is collapsing. You studied medicine at a medical school, didn’t you? You must create a small incision between my ribs and use this tubing to create negative pressure, drawing the blood out so I can breathe. I need to survive—only then can I make it to rescue!”

“I’ve never studied medicine. I’ve only dissected corpses to observe death. I’m not a surgeon. I can’t save you… I can only depict death… I…”

The hunting lodge was still burning, illuminating their shadows.

Wen Yuchi reached out, grabbing Lu Pingfeng’s face, forcing him to face him. “I know. The creature you found hanging wasn’t a rat but a cat. Its lungs were punctured, blood pooling in its chest, just like me. You saved it, performed the chest drainage on it. It could breathe again.”

“But it still died.”

“It wasn’t your surgery that killed it; it was multiple organ ruptures. Lu Pingfeng, every second you hesitate, I move closer to death. Do you really want to see me die?”

Wen Yuchi tightened his grip on Lu Pingfeng’s hand.

The next moment, Lu Pingfeng decisively pinned Wen Yuchi down, using a lighter to sterilize the knife in his hand.

Lying paralyzed on the ground, Nie Yangchen chuckled weakly, “What are you planning to do… give our dear forensic doctor a taste of being dissected alive?”

Lu Pingfeng’s expression remained unchanged. Calmly, he unbuttoned Wen Yuchi’s shirt, locating the precise rib section, then picked up the rubber tube and prepared to make the incision.

At that moment, Qin Lin realized what was happening. He sneered and shouted, “You’re trying to save him? You actually want to save him? Hahaha, this is too ridiculous!

Are you a surgeon? Do you know exactly where to make the incision? How deep to cut? Are you sure that when you see his bleeding organs, you won’t become engrossed in admiring them?”

Ignoring him, Lu Pingfeng focused, inserting the rubber tubing through the wound.

“Did you feel his rib? Or was it his lung? Hahaha, was it still warm, or is it already turning cold?” Qin Lin’s voice echoed through the quiet mountain forest, as though trying to unlock someone’s heart.

Sweat beaded on Lu Pingfeng’s temple, his expression focused and icy.

When he inserted the other end of the tube into the water bottle, crimson blood began to flow steadily into it.

Gradually, Wen Yuchi’s tense expression softened into one of peace.

Lu Pingfeng, his hands covered in blood, hesitated for a moment as he reached out to touch Wen Yuchi’s cheek but stopped midway. Instead, he lowered his head and pressed his ear to Wen Yuchi’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Thump… thump… thump…” the sound of a heartbeat, weak but steady.

“Is he dead? He is dead, isn’t he?” Qin Lin struggled to move his body, awkwardly trying to get a better look.

But Lu Pingfeng didn’t answer him. Instead, he did everything he could to keep Wen Yuchi warm.

Until the sound of a helicopter suddenly came from above, signaling that the rescue team had arrived.

The assistant director looked down at the script. He noted that Gu Xiaowei had deviated from the script by shedding tears. At first, he was worried that Sheng Yunlan would become furious, but unexpectedly, Sheng Yunlan let them continue performing this way.

Gu Xiaowei had deviated from the script, which was fine, but even Luo Yu had let go of his character. According to the script, Wen Yuchi should have lost consciousness, but instead, Luo Yu had suddenly sat up and interacted with Lu Pingfeng—essentially “resurrecting,” which had nearly scared everyone.

But Sheng Yunlan remained silent and allowed them to continue improvising.

During the performance, Wen Yuchi mentioned the story about the cat. This part of the story wasn’t meant to be here; it was supposed to be a discussion later, where Wen Yuchi questioned Lu Pingfeng about how he had learned chest drainage. Yet, Luo Yu’s improvisation seamlessly connected to Gu Xiaowei’s emotional state, allowing the two characters to truly resonate on a deeper emotional level.

It was then that the assistant director understood—this scene was actually a hallucination. Within this hallucination, Wen Yuchi had given Lu Pingfeng complete understanding and trust, allowing him to perform the nearly impossible chest drainage procedure.

Although the scene had officially ended, everyone remained deeply immersed in Lu Pingfeng’s emotions.

Nie Yangchen, lying on the ground, relaxed his menacing expression and sighed, saying, “You two are so willful. Luckily, I’ve seen enough to know how to handle this, or else I wouldn’t know how to go on.”

Luo Yu raised his hand in Nie Yangchen’s direction, giving him a thumbs-up to thank him for going along with the improvisation.

Gu Xiaowei knelt beside Luo Yu, his head lowered, silent. From this angle, no one could see his expression.

After a while, Luo Yu held Gu Xiaowei’s hand with firm strength, pressing his fingers into his palm.

“Does it hurt?”

Gu Xiaowei didn’t answer.

“Lu Pingfeng saved Wen Yuchi, and I’m fine too.”

Lying beside him, Luo Yu could see that Gu Xiaowei was biting his lip. Luo Yu’s hand reached over and gently covered Gu Xiaowei’s mouth.

“Gu Xiaowei, stop biting. Maybe pain reminds you that you’re not dreaming, but every time you hurt, it pains me too.”

Luo Yu’s voice was soft, meant only for the two of them. But for Gu Xiaowei, it was the most soothing and effective comfort.

“I thought… this time, I wouldn’t be able to save you again.”

“Again?” Luo Yu’s heart skipped a beat. Was Gu Xiaowei referring to his role as Bai Ying?

Ignoring the other crew members’ observations, Luo Yu sat up and hugged Gu Xiaowei tightly. He said nothing, only wanting Gu Xiaowei to feel his presence.

“Teacher Gu… is he alright?” The assistant director began to approach but was stopped by Sheng Yunlan.

“It’s fine. The emotions are too heavy. Let it pass for a while. Give him some time.”

The assistant director nodded and told all the staff, “Everyone take a break. Calm your emotions. This scene was excellent, and we’ve paid attention to every detail to make it as perfect as possible!”

Everyone understood. Some turned their backs to chat, while others drank water or smoked.

Luo Yu gently pushed Gu Xiaowei’s hair away from his forehead and whispered, “The hardest part is over. From now on, Wen Yuchi’s heart beats because of Lu Pingfeng, and his breath moves because of Lu Pingfeng.”

“Do you know that feeling?” Gu Xiaowei looked up slowly. His voice was calm, much more rational than Luo Yu had expected. “I thought I could always stay at a distance, watching others struggle in the flames… but your presence, even the slightest warmth, set me ablaze.”

“That’s fine too. No matter how cold or distant you act, or how aloof you seem, I must have this privilege…” Luo Yu leaned in close to Gu Xiaowei’s ear and whispered, “The privilege of making you burn.”

With that, Luo Yu stood up and extended his hand toward Gu Xiaowei, pulling him up.

Today’s filming went smoothly, with Gu Xiaowei and Luo Yu’s improvisation adding depth to the scene. The director kept replaying the footage, focusing on the shot of Lu Pingfeng’s tears. He remarked, “I once discussed with screenwriter Xia Tan how to represent Lu Pingfeng’s underlying ‘humanity.’ I had proposed letting Lu Pingfeng cry, but I worried it would seem melodramatic and overly sentimental. A sociopathic person without human emotions crying for another person, it feels very much like romantic love.”

Luo Yu’s face flushed at the remark, though he knew the director was being analytical and not personal.

“And such a scene would be difficult to pair with dialogue. Xia Tan and I debated whether Lu Pingfeng should wipe away his tears and continue his surgery or delve into a more philosophical self-reflection.”

Hearing this, Luo Yu agreed that Lu Pingfeng’s tears would indeed be a very awkward element in the story.

“But Gu Xiaowei’s tears were entirely unexpected, as if a tense string had suddenly snapped. Even I wondered how to contain this emotion, but you managed it with your ‘hallucination.’ Your performance was very timely. Lu Pingfeng, through his hallucination of Wen Yuchi’s affirmation and trust, completed everything—reflecting his true inner desires.”

Gu Xiaowei said mildly, “Most people impose labels on us, defining us by society’s expectations. He needs to be seen as an independent individual, and Wen Yuchi represents his only direction.”

Hearing this, Sheng Yunlan nodded in satisfaction and patted both Luo Yu and Gu Xiaowei on the shoulder, saying, “Tomorrow will be the final confrontation and resolution. It’s up to you both now.”

“Got it.” Luo Yu flashed an OK gesture.

Gu Xiaowei nodded lightly.

On the way back after wrapping up, Gu Xiaowei remained quiet. The window was wide open, and the wind blew into the van, lifting his hair and exposing his forehead.

Suddenly, Luo Yu wrapped his arms around him from behind.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Teacher Gu, Teacher Gu, in two days we’ll be leaving here! What are your plans after the film wraps up?” Luo Yu’s voice was warm with laughter.

Even Ah Yan and Xiao Qin, who hadn’t really known what had happened, let out a breath of relief.

“Stay with you,” Gu Xiaowei said, his voice short but clear.

Everyone in the van heard it.

Luo Yu’s heart leaped. This was Gu Xiaowei’s way of telling him that this wasn’t a fleeting impulse.

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The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 100 Can’t My Senior Brother Be Impotent?

Late into the night, the surroundings of the posthouse were deathly quiet.

Su Wenyun almost laughed aloud at Tang Shen’s words. He lifted his peach-blossom eyes and cast Tang Shen a mocking glance, as if observing a naïve child.

“You’re accusing me of slandering Wang Zifeng? Tang daren, do you mean Wang Zifeng, the Minister of Revenue, Wang Zhen? The one I know? Even though it’s late, there are still gods above us. Spare me the jest—slandering him, of all people?”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Tang Shen let out a dry laugh before snapping, “Su daren, though we may differ in our political views, now that we’re in Youzhou, we must work as one for His Majesty. The Silver Pull Division is under Wang Zhen, Wang daren’s jurisdiction, and any task we undertake here will inevitably require its assistance. For you to tarnish his reputation so carelessly—isn’t that inappropriate?”

Su Wenyun didn’t reply immediately. He paced back and forth a few times before stopping to look seriously at Tang Shen.

“Tang Shen, Tang Jingze?”

Tang Shen merely glanced at him, uninterested in a response.

After all, he had thoroughly offended Su Wenyun three years ago; what harm would another offense do now? If Su Wenyun couldn’t take him down in Cizhou back then, what could he possibly do now?

Su Wenyun finally spoke. “Wang Zifeng is twenty-nine this year, correct?”

“Correct.”

“He’s twenty-nine, yet he’s never married or even been betrothed. Do you know why?”

Hearing this, Tang Shen raised his eyes. “Why?”

Su Wenyun’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “Because he has a fondness for men!”

Tang Shen’s heart skipped a beat, but outwardly he remained composed.

“And who says that’s necessarily true?”

“Then explain—if not for such a reason, why would a man nearing thirty still remain unmarried?”

Tang Shen responded coolly, “There are countless reasons in the world. How could I possibly know what my senior brother is thinking?” He paused, suppressing the urge to add, Perhaps it’s simply that he’s impotent. Such a statement, however, would only fuel Su Wenyun’s wild fabrications.

Instead, he continued, “Moreover, my senior brother’s marital status has no bearing on you, Su daren. If I recall correctly, you’re twenty-five this year, aren’t you?”

A faint coldness flickered across Su Wenyun’s strikingly beautiful face. “Whether or not I marry is none of your concern.”

“And yet, my senior brother’s marital status is yours?” Tang Shen retorted. “Are you even acquainted with him? No. I’ve known my senior brother for five years; he’s been like a father and brother to me. My understanding of him far surpasses yours. He is most certainly not inclined as you claim.

“Su daren, while we are in Youzhou, we must work together to serve His Majesty. Please refrain from making such jokes. First, it’s not funny—my senior brother is definitively not as you say. Second…” Tang Shen’s tone turned icy as he locked eyes with Su Wenyun. “You dislike others making baseless assumptions about you, don’t you? Then have you never considered that you should not do unto others what you wouldn’t want done to yourself?”

Tang Shen’s firm and resolute words left Su Wenyun momentarily stunned.

Su Wenyun was known for his cunning and exceptional abilities, but he was still young and inexperienced in certain areas—especially relationships. Two years ago, when the Right Vice Prime Minister Xu Bi had told his protégé Yu Chaosheng about Wang Zhen’s supposed preferences, it had been with an air of certainty, leaving no room for doubt. But now, as Su Wenyun watched Tang Shen’s fiery indignation, he found himself second-guessing.

Could he have been wrong?

Wang Zhen had never publicly confirmed his orientation. All the officials’ assumptions were based on speculation. Tang Shen’s fervent defense, coupled with his close relationship with Wang Zhen, made Su Wenyun begin to question his judgment. As Tang Shen mentioned, he wasn’t well-acquainted with Wang Zifeng, and considering they were political rivals, perhaps he had misjudged the situation. Since Tang Shen and Wang Zhen were fellow senior and junior brothers with a close bond, it was unlikely that Wang Zhen would conceal such matters from him.

There are countless reasons why someone might choose not to marry—just like Su Wenyun himself. He remained unmarried because he found no one to his liking. In his eyes, even the most outstanding women in the world were no more than dirt or dust, unworthy of his attention.

Could it be that Wang Zifeng felt the same way?

After a long pause, Su Wenyun finally relented. “Let’s say I misspoke.”

If the officials from the Court of Judicial Review or the Ministry of Works saw Su Wenyun like this, they might have rushed to check if the heavens were raining blood. For Su Wenyun to back down—it was unprecedented.

Tang Shen, however, remained unruffled. After a moment’s silence, he said, “Let’s put this matter behind us. Su daren, I was overly emotional earlier—my apologies.”

The two dropped the subject.

Outside, heavy footsteps broke the silence. Tang Shen walked to the window and opened it, looking out. He saw General Lu carrying a large bucket of water, his expression grim as he trudged into the courtyard.

“Pour the water into the vat and fetch another bucket,” Tang Shen instructed calmly.

General Lu glared at him with undisguised anger, but Tang Shen ignored it and shut the window.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps faded as General Lu left for more water.

Turning back to Su Wenyun, who was sipping tea, Tang Shen was struck by an odd realization: he and Su Wenyun always seemed to meet under strange circumstances in the dead of night.

Shaking off the thought, he said, “After tonight, news of our disagreement will spread throughout Youzhou. Ji Zhaosi, the governor, is the perfect messenger. He belongs to neither the Youzhou Army nor the Silver Pull Divison, making him an ideal channel. With this rumor, we can work in secret and cover for each other. So, Su daren, for the first mission into Liao…who will go?”

Su Wenyun replied, “The first entry into Liao requires the Silver Pull Division’s cooperation. Who do you think is best suited for the task?”

After a moment’s pause, Tang Shen sighed. “Then this lower official shall go first.” Though he agreed outwardly, he cursed internally: As if you don’t know how dangerous it is for the first to go into unknown territory!

The two deliberated late into the night, debating the choice of personnel and routes into Liao. It wasn’t until the second watch that they reached a consensus.

Su Wenyun donned a black cloak, pulling the hood low to shadow his face.

As the door creaked open, the two stepped out, only to see General Lu trudging back with another bucket of water. The courtyard vat was already full, leaving no place for the fresh water. Without a word, General Lu dumped the bucket on the ground, water splashing everywhere, and glared fiercely at Tang Shen.

Tang Shen glanced at the pre-dawn sky and said calmly, “Dawn has yet to arrive, General Lu, please empty the vat and pour the water back into the well.”

“You…!” General Lu’s voice trembled with fury.

Tang Shen asked coldly, “Is General Lu planning to defy orders?”

Lu Shen took a deep breath, picked up the bucket, and turned to leave. Just then, Su Wenyun’s amused voice rang out. “Pouring it back into the well? How unsanitary. But leaving it in this large vat—come morning, the officials here will surely discover it. What shall we do?”

Tang Shen looked at Su Wenyun.

Su Wenyun suggested, “Here’s an idea. General Lu, every courtyard in this posthouse has one to three water vats. Distribute the water into these vats, one bucket per vat. That way, no one will notice. Isn’t that flawless?”

Lu Shen turned back, glaring at Su Wenyun with eyes so fiery they seemed to pierce through him.

But Su Wenyun remained unfazed, smiling as he walked away.

Tang Shen pondered briefly before saying, “Do as Su daren suggests.”

Lu Shen: “…”

Lu Shen muttered inwardly, I’d love nothing more than to pour this bucket over these two damned shitty officials!

Despite his frustration, Lu Shen followed orders. By dawn, he had quietly distributed the water across the posthouse’s vats without anyone noticing.

The next morning, when Tang Shen stepped outside, he saw Lu Shen standing guard at the door like a stone sentinel. His posture was steady, but his weary expression betrayed his exhaustion.

Tang Shen said, “General Lu, come inside.”

Lu Shen silently entered the room, and Tang Shen shut the door after confirming they were alone.

“General Lu, are you cursing me in your heart, holding a grudge against me?”

“This subordinate wouldn’t dare.”

“So you are cursing me.”

“…”

Tang Shen said, “My senior brother once told me: insulting an enemy is the weakest form of retaliation. To truly deal with someone, you must crush their hope, grip their throat, and drive them into a corner. Strike silently and decisively, leaving no trace.”

Lu Shen looked utterly baffled. As an unlettered warrior, he couldn’t grasp Tang Shen’s words at all.

Tang Shen didn’t expect him to. Ai, he thought, how could a mere deputy general understand my senior brother’s art of governance?

“But let’s set that aside. General Lu, you were once a deputy general of the Youzhou garrison, tasked with guarding the city gates. However, you’ve always had strained relations with the civil officials here, haven’t you?”

Lu Shen didn’t respond, lowering his head instead.

Tang Shen continued, “You don’t need to say it. Everyone in Youzhou knows. Why do you resent civil officials? I know, it’s because you’re a ‘returned person.’” (gui zheng ren)

Lu Shen stiffened and immediately raised his head.

“Returned persons,” Tang Shen said, “must tie a black band around their heads during examinations to signify their status. They’re barred from the top rankings in the palace exams and forbidden from holding posts above the fourth rank. In this grand Song Dynasty, only one returned person, General Li Jingde, has achieved a second-rank position as Grand Marshal of the Western Expedition. And that was earned through blood and sweat on the battlefield.”

Tang Shen paused. “You disdain civil officials because you think they do nothing while the generals shed blood on the front lines. Am I wrong?”

“I never said that!” Lu Shen protested.

“Then that’s exactly what you think,” Tang Shen concluded.

Lu Shen fell silent, clearly outmaneuvered.

Tang Shen smirked. Against the seasoned schemers in Shengjing, he might not stand a chance, but dealing with someone like Lu Shen was child’s play.

“Originally, I didn’t plan to entrust this task to you. But your obedience in last night’s water-fetching showed me you’re at least a soldier who follows orders. So, tomorrow’s mission to cross into Liao territory will be handed to you.”

Lu Shen’s eyes widened in shock. “Cross into Liao?!”

Tang Shen chuckled. “Yes, into Liao. Don’t you think civil officials are useless, always hiding behind generals like cowards? Well, this time, I’ll show you what civil officials are capable of. I’ll let you see whether our work is truly idle. This mission will depend entirely on you for my safety. My life is in your hands.” He clasped his hands and gave a respectful bow.

Panicking, Lu Shen quickly supported Tang Shen up. Though confused, he began to understand Tang Shen’s intentions. Tentatively, he asked, “Daren, may I ask… Why are you going into Liao? What’s the purpose of this mission?”

Tang Shen laughed heartily. “To do exactly what you think!”

Lu Shen’s eyes lit up. Clasping his fists, he declared, “This humble general is willing to accompany you into Liao and will not fail your trust!”

Watching Lu Shen’s eagerness, as if ready to sacrifice his life at a moment’s notice, Tang Shen couldn’t help but sigh internally. Ah, military men are so easy to fool!

Tang Shen had always intended for Lu Shen to accompany him to Liao, not just for protection but to handle dangerous tasks. The emperor had assigned Lu Shen to protect Tang Shen, but the real purpose was for Lu Shen to act as a spy and gather intelligence in Liao territory.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

While Lu Shen was strong and brave, he lacked wit and harbored biases against civil officials. Tang Shen feared he might prove troublesome. Yet, with just a few words, Lu Shen had transformed into a devoted subordinate, ready to go through fire and water for him.

Compared to the cunning foxes in Shengjing, the straightforward soldiers of Youzhou were truly endearing!

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Top Dupe CH 099 Butterfly On The Throat

“Why would someone sink into such a state of calmness for another person? Protective instincts are subconscious, uncontrollable impulses.

For those important to me… if there are many people, I’ll search for him in the crowd. If he’s very far away, I’ll urgently want to get closer to him. Even if he’s beside me, the more crowded, dark, or suffocating it is, the more I want to grab onto him. If it were him… if he were shot and fell to the ground, bleeding so much, all my thoughts would be on him. I would be incapable of thinking about anything else. So this rational, repressed form of protection—does that mean Lu Pingfeng has no humanity to begin with?”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Gu Xiaowei stared at the trash bin as if it contained another world.

Lu Yu took a deep breath. That important “him” in Gu Xiaowei’s words—did he exist in reality, or was he just a figment of Lu Pingfeng’s imagination?

Jealousy and envy surged in Luo Yu’s heart. But despite it all, Luo Yu wanted to protect Gu Xiaowei because only he understood Gu Xiaowei’s fragility.

“This isn’t Lu Pingfeng’s nature; it’s his instinctive respect for life. When he knew that if Qin Lin fired a second shot, Wen Yuchi would die, he would never let go of his gun. You’d do the same for me if you were in his place.”

The last statement made Gu Xiaowei’s throat shift as he swallowed.

When he spoke again, his voice was somewhat hoarse. “So what exactly is Lu Pingfeng’s desire for Wen Yuchi?”

Luo Yu gave a light chuckle. The air moved with his laughter, gentle yet carrying a sense of teasing affection that tugged at buried instincts.

“You are Lu Pingfeng. Your desires for Wen Yuchi are whatever you believe them to be.”

After saying that, Luo Yu lifted Gu Xiaowei’s wrist, bit the cigarette that he held, and stepped back, retreating into the studio lighting.

“Smoking isn’t good for you; I’ll take some of the burden for you. Also, during the next additional shots, I’ll keep you ‘rational.'”

Luo Yu grinned as he held the cigarette, his eyes curving with a mischievous, carefree charm. It was as if he were unbound by desire while Gu Xiaowei was ensnared by it.

The director confirmed that additional shooting for Wen Yuchi being shot was required. Gu Xiaowei’s blood stains, fortunately, were treated with a specialized stain remover and dried quickly, making them less noticeable.

The scene returned to the three hiding outside the hunting lodge—Lu Pingfeng pressing his hand over Wen Yuchi’s mouth, half-cradling him in his arms. However, this time Gu Xiaowei’s grip was much stronger, to the point Luo Yu wondered if he were about to break his jaw.

Even Nie Yangchen, squatting nearby, glanced at them and noted, “That… does Brother Luo seem like he’s already dead before he’s even been shot?”

Even the director called out, “Lu Pingfeng, ease up a bit! You’re holding too tightly—Wen Yuchi can barely stay upright, and he might collapse into your arms!”

Only then did Gu Xiaowei ease his grip slightly. Luo Yu steadied himself, half-squatting beside Gu Xiaowei.

He lifted his hand and gently covered Gu Xiaowei’s hand, quietly soothing his tense emotions.

—Don’t worry, don’t be afraid. I’ll always be here.

As shooting began, Qin Lin quietly chambered his gun and raised it toward Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi. Hearing the sound of the gun being chambered, Wen Yuchi used every ounce of strength to push Lu Pingfeng away.

In that instant, Wen Yuchi’s expression was full of determination and finality. His effort to push Lu Pingfeng away was as strong as his effort to keep Lu Pingfeng on this side of the boundary.

In a flash, Lu Pingfeng had already anticipated being pushed back. His response was to press forward, trying to reach the other, to step into his world.

Wen Yuchi’s chest erupted in a wide burst of red as he fell to the ground.

Even though they were drifting apart, they found themselves closer to each other than ever before.

Even as Wen Yuchi fell, his gaze was fixed on Lu Pingfeng’s gun—their only hope for survival.

This was a shot not seen in the previous sequence. This gaze was Wen Yuchi’s final reminder and protection for Lu Pingfeng—Raise your gun!

That gaze was Lu Pingfeng’s trigger, his focus. He took the gun, chambered it, and raised it quickly, positioning himself in front of Wen Yuchi with practiced ease.

Only by having a protective instinct at a level beyond human understanding could they respond with such unspoken teamwork. It wasn’t simply instinct anymore; it was calculated rationality without margin for error, their only hope to carve out a path for survival.

This rationality was no longer just Lu Pingfeng’s determination—it was mutual.

The additional shot depicted this mutual understanding and bond in a way that felt deeper and more resonant than the earlier versions. Even the director noted it, pausing the scene to review the moments closely.

“That gaze is powerful—it gives all of Lu Pingfeng’s decisions motivation. It’s no longer just cold rationality, but the mutual protection of two individuals,” the director murmured.

The assistant director agreed, “Yes, this is much better than the first version.”

The sky was growing brighter, and there was no time left for additional scenes.

The director called for wrap, and the crew began packing up the set.

As they headed down the mountain, Luo Yu watched Gu Xiaowei’s retreating figure. Despite having tried to console him, Gu Xiaowei remained trapped in Lu Pingfeng’s emotions. The morning light fell on his shoulders, but there was still something unlit within him.

“Only two or three days left before the main storyline finishes, right?” Yan Jun sighed as he walked behind Luo Yu.

“Are you in a rush to get back to your wife and kid, Brother Yan?” Luo Yu teased.

“Of course! My little girl must be thinking of me and getting skinnier from it,” Yan Jun said, holding his face in mock shyness.

Nie Yangchen passed by, chuckling, “Are you sure she misses you, or is she just going through a growth spurt?”

“You guys are so annoying,” Yan Jun shot a glance at Gu Xiaowei far ahead. “Today, Teacher Gu’s aura is still intense. When he raised the gun at you, I was really afraid the gun actually has bullets and he might accidentally fire for real.”

Nie Yangchen exhaled, “Who says it’s not true? Maybe it’s because Brother Luo’s acting is so good—that shattered look after being shot… even I felt distressed.”

Gu Xiaowei’s steps faltered at the comment.

“Cut it out. You’re really looking to get killed, aren’t you?” Luo Yu shot him a warning look.

After descending, Gu Xiaowei climbed into the van, leaning his chin on his hand as he stared out the window, deep in thought. Perhaps still wondering what Lu Pingfeng’s desires for Wen Yuchi truly were.

Luo Yu, exhausted, leaned against his shoulder and fell asleep, the light of the lake flickering against the window.

Soon, Luo Yu let out a faint snore, and when his face almost slipped off Gu Xiaowei’s shoulder, Gu Xiaowei finally turned around and gently pulled him into his embrace. As the car passed over a small hill, bumping upward, Gu Xiaowei instinctively placed his hand over Luo Yu’s head to protect him.

In the backseat, Xiao Qin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. When would she have a boyfriend as thoughtful and attentive as Brother Gu?

“Mm…” Luo Yu shifted slightly, turning his face deeper into Gu Xiaowei’s chest to avoid the light.

This position made it so that Gu Xiaowei had to lean sideways to shield him from the light. Xiao Qin reached for a hat and stretched it across from between the seats, asking, “How about we put a hat on Brother Luo?”

“It’s fine,” Gu Xiaowei replied, lowering his gaze as he leaned back against the seat, his eyes resting on the top of Luo Yu’s head.

After they returned to the villa, and Luo Yu finished showering he knocked on Gu Xiaowei’s door, “Teacher Gu, I’m done with the bathroom” 

After a while, there was still no response.

“Did he fall asleep already? Or where did he go?” He turned the knife only to find that there was no one inside.

Where did that guy go?

Luo Yu let out a helpless sigh, his previous tiredness now overtaken by alertness.

He went back to his room and used his phone to call Gu Xiaowei only to hear the ringtone coming from Gu Xiaowei’s nightstand.

This guy left without even taking his phone?

“So energetic… Is it because he’s still young?” Luo Yu murmured.

No, no, no. This body of mine is still very young. Don’t casually rely on age to assert authority.

Luo Yu took a deep breath, grabbed a T-shirt and some casual pants, threw them on, and went downstairs. In the living room, he happened upon Xiao Qin, who was lying on the sofa applying a facial mask.

“Brother Luo, are you going out too?” Xiao Qin asked.

“Yeah. Have you seen your Brother Gu?”

“Yeah, he said he was going out to get some fresh air.”

“Okay. If he comes back, just let him know that I went out too.” Luo Yu smiled, adjusted his baseball cap, and headed out.

“You two really have a lot of energy… You don’t need to sleep after filming all night?” Xiao Qin couldn’t help but exclaim.

This vast rose villa resort was too large. Luo Yu didn’t think he would run into Gu Xiaowei. In fact, if he wandered far, he wasn’t sure if he could even find his way back.

He wandered aimlessly, occasionally humming an off-key tune: “Come back, come back, Gu Xiaowei who is wandering the world~”

After wandering for over half an hour without finding Gu Xiaowei’s figure, he gave up.

He spotted a long bench by the roadside. The sun was warm, and the breeze carried the scent of flowers. It was perfect for lying down.

He lay on the bench, his long legs dangling on the other side, his baseball cap shading his face. Since Gu Xiaowei would eventually return to his room and realize Luo Yu had left to find him—likely getting lost in the process—he didn’t worry.

Luo Yu quickly fell into a peaceful nap.

Some time later, his phone rang. He almost forgot where he was, and when he fumbled for his phone, he fell off the bench. Fortunately, his long limbs managed to catch him in time.

“Hello…” Luo Yu yawned.

“Do you know where you are now?” Gu Xiaowei’s voice came through the phone, calm but with an undertone of urgency.

“Sleeping… sitting on a bench. Behind me is a rose trellis. In front of me is… another rose trellis.”

His answer was vague and unhelpful, and he chuckled at himself.

“So you don’t know where you are,” Gu Xiaowei stated.

“Well… I guess I’m okay. I came out to find you, thinking fate might let me run into you, but it seems like between us there’s no…”

Before he could finish, Gu Xiaowei cut him off.

“Share your location with me. I’ll come get you.” Gu Xiaowei sounded calm and unangry.

“Oh, okay.”

After sharing his location, Luo Yu sat up. He glanced at his phone and realized he had slept for over three hours—right into noon. Gu Xiaowei must have been out wandering and only realized he was missing upon returning.

He kept his baseball cap on, leaning his head back as he relaxed again. Before long, he drifted back to sleep.

When Gu Xiaowei found him following the shared location, he saw Luo Yu lying with his baseball cap pulled low, his neck tilted back, and a blue butterfly perched delicately on his throat. The butterfly’s wings moved gently with Luo Yu’s breathing, as if it had emerged from his very essence.

Gu Xiaowei slowed his steps, his shadow hovering over the butterfly. He was careful not to disturb it.

After a while, Luo Yu shifted, and just as his hat was about to fall off, Gu Xiaowei reached forward and steadied it. The butterfly took flight.

“En… Gu Xiaowei… is that you?” Luo Yu’s voice was soft, tinged with sleep.

He moved his neck, pulling off his hat, and found himself staring into Gu Xiaowei’s deep, sea-like gaze. It felt as if his heart was trapped in those eyes, unable to escape.

“…You know you’re directionally challenged, yet you came out anyway. Why?” Gu Xiaowei adjusted the hat for him, avoiding Luo Yu’s gaze for once.

Beneath the hat, Luo Yu’s lips curved faintly, a subtle, alluring smile that made Gu Xiaowei’s blood rush. The air heated up, and the blood quickly surged, driving Gu Xiaowei to move closer to the other.

“Gu Xiaowei, after walking for so long, have you figured anything out?” Luo Yu teased. His tone hinted at mischief and a trap.

“Figured out what?” Gu Xiaowei asked cautiously.

Luo Yu’s smile grew. “—What kind of desire do you have for me, exactly?”

The question hit like an electric jolt. Gu Xiaowei knew this was layered with meaning. If he withdrew, it referred to “Lu Pingfeng’s desire for Wen Yuchi.” If he dared pursue and act on those feelings, it implied a direct question about his own feelings toward Luo Yu.

Gu Xiaowei looked down, his gaze landing on Luo Yu’s graceful throat. He wants to become his butterfly, emerging from his body, breaking free from the cocoon.

Gu Xiaowei’s hands came to Luo Yu’s neck—firm but not painful—and felt it bob against his palm. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.

Luo Yu tensed initially but soon relaxed under his touch, sensing no malice. It was as if Gu Xiaowei was protecting him in this way, layer by layer, not to make him lose his breath, but to ensure that nothing could harm him.

Gu Xiaowei’s hand pressed gently up to Luo Yu’s jaw, their breaths close. For a moment, Luo Yu felt his lips slightly brush against Gu Xiaowei’s. But when he tried to keep the other close, the other had already moved away.

Too careful. Too tender.

But restraint was natural to Gu Xiaowei.

Blood raced toward his heart, and all thoughts and concerns lost their meaning. Luo Yu even felt the urge to quickly respond, to chase after the other person, to confirm what exactly had touched him earlier.

When Gu Xiaowei’s hand left Luo Yu’s throat and gently lifted his cap, Gu Xiaowei whispered, “I’ll take you back.”

Luo Yu looked up again, seeing Gu Xiaowei’s gaze soften, its transparency different now, deeper yet calm.

Gu Xiaowei reached out, and without hesitation, Luo Yu took his hand, rising from the bench. Gu Xiaowei held on firmly, never letting go.

His palm was dry, yet hotter than usual, as if it could break free at any moment. But whenever Luo Yu deliberately slowed his pace, he would notice how the other clearly exerted force, as if afraid Luo Yu might let go of his hand.

They walked through endless rows of rose trellises, flowers brushing Luo Yu’s shoulders and neck. He wanted to pull away and scratch the ticklish spots, but every motion was met with firmer pressure from Gu Xiaowei’s hand.

They walked for an unknown amount of time, as if they would continue this way until the end of the world. When the rose trellis turned to another direction, Gu Xiaowei suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“You didn’t hit me,” he observed.

“Huh?” Luo Yu stopped as well.

“You didn’t push me away.”

Gu Xiaowei’s usually cold gaze seemed to be gradually warmed like a glass of wine, slowly heating up, and now it was almost boiling to the point of catching fire.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me why I kissed you. I’ve been wondering the whole way if I offended you, if I made you unhappy, if you endured me because the film was still in production, if it was because…”

Luo Yu’s heart raced faster and faster with every “if” and “whether” from Gu Xiaowei.

That feeling was like the most innocent child, secretly kissing the person they secretly admired under the sunlight. When the other person’s gaze swept toward them, they felt both guilty and restrained, yet unable to stop themselves.

“So it really was a kiss just now,” Luo Yu said, turning his face to look at him directly and smiling. At first, it was a soft laugh, then he covered his stomach and shook, laughing louder and louder. “I wondered the whole way—was that really a kiss?”

To Gu Xiaowei’s ears, it sounded like mockery, or more like another kind of raw, unreserved seduction—a forbidden act that had become no longer.

Gu Xiaowei grabbed Luo Yu’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head up. Before Luo Yu could catch his breath, Gu Xiaowei pressed against him forcefully—wildly, as though no amount of force could ever satisfy him.

Luo Yu couldn’t withstand his strength, stumbling back until Gu Xiaowei’s other hand firmly supported his back.

Beyond the lines and acting, Luo Yu felt true, unrestrained, and unhinged passion from Gu Xiaowei for the first time. Every breath felt like dragging the midday sun into the evening, letting emotions rise and fall like tides—creating a world that felt as if it was plunging toward the end of days, only for that end to turn into the dawn of another beginning.

Without anything to support himself, Luo Yu instinctively pressed himself into the rose trellis. When his hand went back to brace, about to graze the trellis’s thorns, Gu Xiaowei swept him into his arms.

If there wasn’t a higher place to set him on, then Gu Xiaowei would lift him with his own strength, making paths through the stars and clear skies.

Luo Yu felt numb from his lips to his brain. His baseball cap, dangling from his head, swayed precariously before finally falling to his feet.

“That really was a kiss,” Gu Xiaowei said.

His gaze was intense, heating Luo Yu’s throat and heart.

In his previous life, living for over thirty years, even after being reborn and seeing Gu Xiaowei in the elevator, Luo Yu never thought he would develop feelings for him. His emotions had always been an empty cup, capable of containing any role, any script, or even the most ridiculous and transgressive story. That cup was the boundary that kept him apart from worldly passions, preventing anything from spilling over.

He thought that after being reborn, he wouldn’t have those thoughts. That he would only be even more careful, composed, and head toward the light.

But the more time he spent with Gu Xiaowei, the more he wanted to lose control.

Luo Yu laughed softly, thinking that both of them were the kind of people who would never turn back once they took that step, even if they hit a wall and shattered.

Lowering his head, Luo Yu kissed Gu Xiaowei’s eyelashes lightly, then brushed his nose with his lips.

It felt too surreal. There really was someone in this world whom he couldn’t stop loving.

Luo Yu lowered his head and tightly embraced Gu Xiaowei. Gu Xiaowei tilted his head back, as if waiting for something, or perhaps not fully comprehending his own emotions. The next moment, he held onto Luo Yu even more tightly.

“You kissed me too lightly… it makes me look like an obsessive man,” Gu Xiaowei murmured.

Luo Yu murmured back, “You already are an obsessive man.”

But I’m even crazier than you.

At this moment, I want to shatter my own body—letting my bones and blood mix into yours, countless roses blooming from within my veins, turning my restrained emotions into chaos.

“Gu Xiaowei, I once lost everything…” Luo Yu said in a muffled voice.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll win everything back together,” Gu Xiaowei said as he lifted his hand to grip Luo Yu’s head, his fingers threading into Luo Yu’s hair, as if protecting his dreams and passion.

“I meant to say, compared to you, that ‘everything’ isn’t anything at all.”

Gu Xiaowei’s gaze lingered in that moment, as though trying to control something. Slowly, he released Luo Yu and took his hand, walking forward.

“What’s wrong?”

Gu Xiaowei’s restraint left Luo Yu puzzled.

“I’m not good enough to compare with that ‘everything,’” Gu Xiaowei said as he walked forward.

Luo Yu watched that serious, deliberate back, wondering if he was afraid that he would fall into love too deeply. Why was he so heated moments ago, and now so distant?

But Gu Xiaowei’s grip was too strong, and it didn’t seem like he was regretting anything.

Ah, such a cute classmate Gu Xiaowei. His strong exterior masked a soft heart, and here Luo Yu was, overthinking again.

When they returned to the villa, everything was quiet. Xiao Qin and the others had already gone to bed. They came back right around three or four in the afternoon.

“Hungry?” Luo Yu asked Gu Xiaowei.

Gu Xiaowei, who was putting on his slippers, hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

“I’ll make some noodles!”

After saying that, Luo Yu quickly headed for the kitchen.

Gu Xiaowei sat by the entrance, closing his eyes and exhaling a long breath.

He grabbed his hair tightly, his voice low: “What are you thinking…”

Luo Yu was good at taking care of himself. Although he didn’t often cook before, because he lived alone his noodle-making skills were excellent. Even with only tomatoes and ham from the villa’s fridge, Luo Yu managed to cook a fragrant pot of noodles, placing them into two bowls. Then he felt something odd.

When Gu Xiaowei came to his house for hot pot before, he was always eager to help—washing vegetables, making garlic sauce, cleaning up afterward. But now, where did he disappear to?

Could it be that what is unobtainable always excites us, and once obtained, it loses its charm?

Luo Yu walked out of the kitchen, not finding Gu Xiaowei in the living room either.

“Where did he go?”

Was he tired and went to bed? No way?

Luo Yu still couldn’t calm his fast-beating heart. Was Gu Xiaowei really able to sleep now?

The more he thought about it, the more Luo Yu felt that Gu Xiaowei’s reaction was like a volcano suddenly cooling down, which was a bit irritating. He went upstairs and gently twisted the doorknob to the other person’s bedroom.

Gu Xiaowei wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was standing on the terrace, head bowed. Luo Yu could see a cigarette box and lighter nearby.

Why was he smoking again?

Luo Yu took a few steps forward and saw Gu Xiaowei with his brows furrowed and his expression dim. He was looking at the cigarette in his fingers, then suddenly pressed the burning tip into the palm of his other hand.

All of Luo Yu’s nerves went on high alert, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to jump out of his throat. In just two or three steps, he rushed over.

“What are you doing—”

Without thinking, Luo Yu reached out to grab the cigarette from Gu Xiaowei’s hand, only to burn his own palm in the process.

“Ouch…”

Gu Xiaowei’s calm expression instantly changed as he anxiously grabbed Luo Yu’s wrist, pried his fingers open, and took away the cigarette butt.

Luo Yu’s palm had already developed a round red mark from the burn.

Without saying a word, Gu Xiaowei dragged Luo Yu back to the room, took out a first-aid kit from the cabinet, and began treating the burn.

Luo Yu watched the furrowed brows of the other man, and after a long while, as Gu Xiaowei wrapped a thin layer of gauze around his palm, Luo Yu moved closer and gently tapped his forehead against Gu Xiaowei’s nose.

“Do you know how hot a cigarette butt is?” Luo Yu asked.

“Seven or eight hundred degrees,” Gu Xiaowei said, his voice low and serious.

“What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly burning yourself with a cigarette butt?” Luo Yu paused for a moment before adding, “I’m not stupid, my vision is fine. I saw you trying to press the cigarette butt into your palm.”

Gu Xiaowei was silent for a long time, and Luo Yu patiently stayed by his side, waiting.

“I just feel like it’s not real. I wanted to burn myself to see if it would hurt,” Gu Xiaowei said quietly.

At that moment, Luo Yu felt a surge of heartache. He knew Gu Xiaowei wasn’t being dramatic or lying; this was exactly how he felt at that moment.

From the moment they confirmed their feelings for each other, Gu Xiaowei, who had been so passionately intense to the point that Luo Yu could barely withstand it, had suddenly gone cold. Luo Yu could sense that something was wrong.

Was it because of the character Lu Pingfeng? Or was it something else that made Gu Xiaowei so uncertain?

“Am I so important to you? So much that you’re questioning the reality of all this?” Luo Yu asked, bracing himself beside Gu Xiaowei and looking up into his eyes.

“En,” Gu Xiao Wei responded softly, yet his expression was extremely serious.

Luo Yu laughed again, “If you want to feel pain, isn’t that easy?”

The next second, Luo Yu leaned over and bit the tip of Gu Xiaowei’s nose.

This guy, usually so commanding, now seemed like a vulnerable, pliable alpaca at his mercy.

“Ouch…” Gu Xiaowei frowned slightly but didn’t pull away; instead, he hugged Luo Yu tightly.

He needed him. No matter how strong and commanding he was on stage, no matter how dominant he appeared in front of investors, he needed Luo Yu. He laid bare his most fragile and vulnerable side for Luo Yu to see.

“Did it hurt?” Luo Yu whispered, so close that his voice was barely audible.

It was obvious, Gu Xiaowei’s body temperature had risen, and his ears were visibly flushed.

“Not very much.” 

His voice sounded calm, but his tone was slightly hoarse.

Luo Yu looked down at him and found his face relatively calm.

Was he so unappealing?

He regretted not watching enough romantic dramas and TV shows to improve his seduction skills.

“Those embarrassed red ears are pretty cute, though.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Then why are your ears red?”

“The reason you had red ears today is why mine are red too.”

Gu Xiaowei was about to turn his head away but Luo Yu wouldn’t give him the chance, leaning in and biting his earlobe hard. That area is cartilage, and biting it forcefully is much more painful than biting a soft earlobe or the tip of the nose.

Luo Yu braced himself, knowing that Gu Xiaowei might push him away or pinch his face to force him to stop. However, to his surprise, Gu Xiaowei gripped the back of his head, holding him close as if offering himself entirely.

Luo Yu released his grip, a trace of distress in his voice. “Now it must really hurt, right? Does it feel real now?”

“Not very much,” Gu Xiaowei said.

“Still not enough pain?” Luo Yu shoved him backward, and Gu Xiaowei obediently fell onto the bed.

His dark hair spilled onto the pristine white sheets, his face—a mask of apparent calm—somehow gave off the feeling that he was ready to be shattered.

Luo Yu held his wrist, for the first time having control over him, as if all of this man’s happiness was something he alone could give.

“Not painful… still doesn’t feel real enough,” Gu Xiaowei didn’t move at all. His eyes deeply fixed on Luo Yu, as if he were the nightfall, the bright stars, all the beautiful, lofty, and unattainable things. Gu Xiaowei, on the other hand, resembled a black hole, seemingly distant and indifferent to all temptations, drawing in all light and warmth, attracting them relentlessly.

The next moment, Luo Yu lowered his head, and Gu Xiaowei’s lower lip was met with sharp pain. He tasted a faint metallic tang.

Even if the entire world became barbed wire wrapping around his back, his instinctive protectiveness and hunger spilled outward, unstoppable.

The world felt upended when Luo Yu’s head was pressed into the pillow.

This was Gu Xiaowei’s true kiss—fearless, without hesitation, and once the waves began, they would not recede.

Wanting to escape but instantly being engulfed, all the sensory nerves burning wildly into an uncontrollable fire, more flamboyant and reckless than any storm.

Luo Yu was that tiny spark, setting Gu Xiaowei on fire, and the latter had no intention of forgiving him at all.

This was the real Gu Xiao Wei—controlled, restrained, disciplined, but at his core, alive, chaotic, and driven by raw instinct.

“Who made this noodle? It’s all clumped up, is anyone still eating it?” Ye Shengyi’s voice came from downstairs.

Luo Yu froze, his shoulders tensing as he grabbed Gu Xiaowei’s shirt collar and patted his back. The more flustered he became, the more Gu Xiaowei pressed into him.

The footsteps of Ye Shengyi grew louder, and Luo Yu’s heart raced. He knew that even if they were caught, it wouldn’t matter, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be openly observed. Ye Shengyi would surely yell, and that would likely draw in others like Ah Yan and Xiao Qin.

As the knock came, Gu Xiaowei suddenly sat up, putting his arm under Luo Yu’s neck and pulling him with him, turning them both so that Luo Yu was facing away from the door.

Finally breathing in fresh air, Luo Yu’s head was still spinning.

“Brother Gu, do you know who cooked the noodles downstairs?” Ye Shengyi asked.

“Luo Yu made them. We’re going down to eat now,” Gu Xiaowei said, casually, as if nothing had happened.

The door wasn’t locked, and Ye Shengyi pushed it open, immediately seeing Luo Yu with his back to the door and Gu Xiaowei kneeling beside him, holding his shoulder as if giving him a massage.

“Brother Luo, are you not feeling well? The outdoor shoot is almost over. When we go back to the city later we can get a spa treatment together!” Ye Shengyi said.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Yeah, okay… ah!” Gu Xiaowei suddenly pinched Luo Yu’s shoulder for some reason.

“Don’t forget your noodles. It’s all clumped up!” Ye Shengyi said.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going now,” Luo Yu said calmly, and realized that he had developed a strong heart. His face wasn’t blushing and his heartbeat wasn’t picking up either.

Ye Shengyi closed the door, and Luo Yu covered his face with one hand.

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The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 099 Who Has Never Liked Zhao Xuan?

The 31st Year of Kaiping, third month.

Since the previous year, the Empress Dowager had been bedridden with a lingering illness, unable to rise. During the New Year, her condition improved somewhat, and Emperor Zhao Fu was overjoyed, generously rewarding the Imperial Medical Bureau. Yet, who could have known this was but a fleeting recovery? By the third month, the Empress Dowager was frequently ill, and on the 19th day, she passed away.

At the time of her passing, Zhao Fu was meditating in the Immortal Ascension Platform, practicing immortality cultivation.

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During his cultivation, no one was permitted to disturb him. Since its construction, only a few high-ranking ministers, the grand marshal, and individuals like Wang Zhen had ever entered the Immortal Ascension Platform.

That night, a eunuch hurriedly arrived outside the hall, carrying a whisk and braving the darkness. The young eunuch guarding the entrance noticed something was amiss—it was Wang Qi, the chief eunuch of Yanfu Palace.

Without waiting for notification, Wang Qi burst into the hall, panicked and shouting, “Your Majesty, Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager is unresponsive!”

Zhao Fu opened his eyes, gave Wang Qi a glance, then quickly rose and rushed to Yanfu Palace.

The emperor stayed by the Empress Dowager’s side the entire night. Before dawn, she took her final breath. Holding her frail, bony hand, Zhao Fu stared blankly at the lifeless figure lying on the bed. In the palace, the sound of weeping filled the air. Whether genuine or not, all the eunuchs and palace maids knelt on the ground, crying loudly.

Zhao Fu, however, did not cry. He simply gazed at her for a long time.

After about an hour, when the attendants were starting to run out of tears, Zhao Fu summoned Ji Fu.

“Has the Empress Dowager passed?” the emperor asked, his voice hoarse.

Having served Zhao Fu for many years, Ji Fu was deeply moved to see his sovereign in such a state. Crying, he replied, “Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager has passed.”

Zhao Fu took a deep breath, then broke into sobs.

That night, the mournful toll of bells echoed throughout the palace, eight resounding strikes that shook the heavens.

Sixth Prince Zhao Ao was summoned to the palace. Upon entering Yanfu Palace, he found it deserted, save for Zhao Fu sitting alone beside the Empress Dowager’s bed. Zhao Ao’s eyes reddened at the sight of his deceased mother.

“Mother!”

With the Empress Dowager’s passing, the nation entered mourning, and court sessions were suspended for five days.

All officials donned mourning attire and prayed for the Empress Dowager’s soul. The emperor stayed in Yanfu Palace, personally copying Buddhist scriptures for her. Zhao Ao, the only surviving prince and Zhao Fu’s younger brother, accompanied him in this act of piety.

One night, Zhao Fu, unable to endure the strain, retired early. Waking in the middle of the night, he found Zhao Ao still bent over a desk, diligently copying scriptures.

Zhao Fu watched for a while before Zhao Ao sensed his gaze and turned around. Rising immediately, Zhao Ao greeted him with a bow, “Greetings, imperial brother.”

Zhao Fu waved dismissively. “Why such formality?”

Zhao Ao, eyes moist, murmured, “Imperial brother…”

Zhao Fu pulled up a chair beside Zhao Ao’s desk. It had been years since they had spoken so intimately. He reminisced about their childhood, especially memories involving their mother.

Zhao Fu said, “When Mother gave birth to you, she had nearly exhausted her strength. She had already sent for Father, but because Empress Xiaojing suddenly fell ill, Father went to Qingning Palace instead. Hearing this, Mother, despite her exhaustion, somehow summoned the strength to deliver you.”

Zhao Ao, startled, replied, “Empress Xiaojing treated us well. I didn’t know this.”

Zhao Fu chuckled. “This had nothing to do with Empress Xiaojing. You know as well as I do what kind of man our imperial father was.”

Zhao Ao lowered his head in silence, unwilling to comment. Zhao Fu could speak harshly of the former emperor, but he didn’t  dare because he wasn’t the emperor.

Zhao Fu continued, “Remember when you were six? I was nine then. Zhao Xuan took us hunting outside the capital. He caught a fawn for me and a rabbit for you. Thinking back, it’s no surprise Father favored Zhao Xuan—he was Empress Xiaojing’s only son, brilliant and capable. At twelve, he could draw a five-stone bow. You often followed him, calling him ‘Elder Brother Crown Prince,’ forgetting that I was your actual older brother.”

Terrified, Zhao Ao stood up, almost kneeling. “Your Majesty, I have never thought that way!”

Zhao Fu, seeing his panic, extended a hand with a smile. “Ai, sit back down. Why are you so nervous? Back then, who didn’t admire Zhao Xuan? Even I liked him. Like you, I waited outside Hanxiang Hall daily, hoping he would come and take me to play.”

Zhao Ao froze, unsure how to respond.

Seeing his bewilderment, Zhao Fu felt both contempt and pity.

He suddenly lost the will to continue the conversation. There was so much he wanted to say, but many of his brothers were dead—some by his own hand, others through his machinations. Zhao Ao, foolish as he was, hardly warranted scheming. But now, with their mother gone, Zhao Ao was all he had left.

What would Mother say if she heard this conversation? Zhao Fu wondered.

After a moment’s thought, he stood up and said calmly, “Keep copying the scriptures.”

This was the emperor Zhao Ao was most familiar with. Relieved, Zhao Ao wiped the sweat from his brow and respectfully answered, “Yes.”

The palace echoed with soft sobs—concubines mourning the Empress Dowager and eunuchs and maids weeping quietly.

Beyond the palace, officials in mourning robes grieved for the late Empress Dowager.

In the residence of the Left Prime Minister, Ji Wengji held a letter, reading it intently. After a while, his wife entered with a bowl of thick soup. They exchanged a smile.

Ji Wengji grasped his wife’s rough hand and smiled. “You’ve worked hard, my wife.”

“Is that a letter from Bo’an?” she asked gently.

“Yes,” Ji Wengji replied. “He caught a cold upon arriving in Qinzhou, delaying his correspondence. But he’s better now and wanted to ease my worries.”

“You should rest,” he urged. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “Last year, when I visited the palace, the Empress Dowager was so kind and amiable. I can hardly believe she’s gone.”

“Some will sleep even less soundly than you,” Ji Wengji said cryptically.

“Oh?”

He offered no explanation, his face betraying a sly smile. His wife, recognizing this look from their youth, leaned shyly against his shoulder like they used to do when young. “Will you tell me or not?”

Instead, Ji Wengji mused, “When one commits deeds—whether good or ill—what they fear most isn’t others finding out but having no one left to share in the memory.”

Puzzled, his wife said nothing more.

Sighing, Ji Wengji added, “The stars foretell more court suspensions. You’d best prepare for cooking both our meals.”

Emperor Zhao Fu’s grief led to five days of court suspension. When those days ended, his melancholy deepened, causing him to fall ill.

This “holiday” extended to half a month.

Tang Shen, being in Youzhou, naturally had no knowledge of these events. However, the empress dowager’s passing inevitably affected officials like him stationed far from the capital. Originally, the Youzhou governor, Ji Zhaosi, had planned to host a banquet to welcome Tang Shen and Su Wenyun. But with the empress dowager’s death, no official dared to hold celebratory banquets.

It wasn’t until April that Ji Zhaosi finally hosted a banquet at the prefectural yamen to entertain Su Wenyun and Tang Shen.

As a fourth-rank official, Ji Zhaosi’s influence was limited. His position was less prestigious compared to Tang Shen’s previous role as a fifth-rank chamberlain recording the emperor’s daily life. Ji Zhaosi had no direct ties to the Youzhou Army or the Silver Pull Division. Previously, Youzhou’s officials only needed to curry favor with the army, but with the establishment of the Silver Pull Division, Ji Zhaosi found himself caught between two powerful factions.

When he met Su Wenyun and Tang Shen, Ji Zhaosi greeted them with an ingratiating smile. “This lower official, Ji Zhaosi, greets the esteemed Vice Minister of Works and the Honorable Attendant Secretary of the Palace Secretariat.”

Both took their seats as Ji Zhaosi poured wine for them.

Su Wenyun chuckled lightly. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this banquet, Ji daren.”

Hearing this, Tang Shen cast Su Wenyun a glance.

Ji Zhaosi, quick-witted, replied, “I had long planned to host you, daren, but the Empress Dowager’s passing was sudden. Overwhelmed with grief, I had no heart for banquets and devoted myself to mourning her.”

Both Tang Shen and Su Wenyun were prominent figures close to the emperor. Ji Zhaosi’s words were carefully crafted, not in hopes of their praise, but to avoid inadvertently offending them.

At the banquet, Ji Zhaosi warmly introduced the dishes. “Daren, you must try our local delicacies. I hear Tang daren is from Gusu, where the cuisine differs greatly from the north. Even within the north, Youzhou has its unique flavors. This roast lamb, for instance…”

Tang Shen gazed at the dish and murmured, “My senior brother enjoys this very much.”

Ji Zhaosi’s eyes lit up. “Does Minister Wang enjoy Youzhou’s roast lamb? I had no idea. When the minister visited Youzhou years ago, he was too busy for me to meet him. I’ve always regretted it.”

Su Wenyun interjected disdainfully, “Tang daren seems very knowledgeable about Wang daren.”

Tang Shen glanced at him. “My senior brother and I share a deep bond.”

With a meaningful smirk, Su Wenyun retorted, “A deep bond, you say? Speaking of which, isn’t Wang daren already 29 this year and still unmarried?”

Fury flashed in Tang Shen’s eyes as he set down his chopsticks and coldly said, “Su daren, slandering someone behind their back is unbecoming.”

Su Wenyun sneered, “Slandering? Hardly.”

Ji Zhaosi, alarmed, watched as the two exchanged barbs, their argument escalating. Eventually, the meal ended in discord. As they left, Su Wenyun remarked to Ji Zhaosi, “The banquet was splendid; the company, less so.” With that, he stormed off.

Tang Shen, on the other hand, simply said, “Ji daren, I’ll take my leave.”

Left alone, Ji Zhaosi was thoroughly bewildered. His head throbbed as he muttered to himself, “Could the rumors be true? Su Feiran and Tang Jingze have always been at odds, and the Wang and Su factions are indeed rivals. Had I known, I wouldn’t have invited them together! But if I had hosted one before the other, would I not risk offending the other party?”

That night, Tang Shen’s room remained dark. Outside, Lu Shen stood guard with his sword.

Before retiring, Tang Shen had instructed him, “I’ve drank tonight. General Lu, I entrust the night watch to you.”

Furious, Lu Shen glared at him but had no choice but to comply.

The night was silent, with only a few scattered stars. As Lu Shen dozed slightly off with eyes half closed, he was suddenly alerted by a faint rustling. Drawing his sword, he swung at the intruder—a dark-clad Su Wenyun, who narrowly avoided the strike, losing a lock of hair in the process.

“Outrageous!” Su Wenyun admonished.

Lu Shen, disliking civil officials in general, pretended not to recognize him and prepared to strike again.

“Enough,” Tang Shen’s voice called from the doorway.

Reluctantly, Lu Shen lowered his sword.

Tang Shen instructed, “General Lu, fetch me some water from the well. Go alone, and make sure no one sees you.”

Lu Shen hesitated before obeying.

Once Lu Shen was gone, Su Wenyun entered the room, immediately confronting Tang Shen. “You knew I’d come tonight and still posted that menace outside?”

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Tang Shen replied calmly, “General Lu is here to protect me. Where’s the fault in that?”

“Don’t play dumb, Tang Jingze!”

Tang Shen’s expression darkened as he slammed the table. “Su Wenyun, if you’re here to play games, keep my senior brother out of it. You may disagree with his politics, but I won’t allow you to tarnish his reputation. Not in front of me, not anywhere.”

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These Werebeast Gongs Are Rogues CH 060 Cleaning Up

Everyone gathered around, many of them didn’t know what happened. Seeing that Rong Chuan was beaten so badly that he could barely breathe while lying on the ground, they couldn’t just watch because they were from the same tribe, and the person who beat him was also not from their tribe. Some of the young and impulsive ones in the tribe were about to step forward to stop it, but they were subtly stopped by the older and more sensible people nearby. They signaled with their eyes to Kun Ge and Jing Yue, who had inscrutable expressions. These two here, but they didn’t say anything so how was it up to them to show off.

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Those young people were impulsive, not stupid. Seeing this, they immediately retreated into the crowd and shut up. However, one of them lived on the same street as Rong Chuan’s family. Although they didn’t interact much, they still had to keep things polite and friendly on the surface. So, he quietly slipped down the mountain, intending to communicate with Rong Chuan’s papa in advance.

Seeing that Xiya was really about to beat the other to death, Lei Jin didn’t have the time to reassure Jing Ping. He quickly jumped up to stop him and said, “Xiya, enough.” If Xiya beat him to death, how could he take revenge? Of course he must avenge himself. He was not dead yet, so what did it mean to let others take revenge for him?

Xiya heard Lei Jin calling him to stop, and guessed that Lei Jin had his own ideas. Now his mood became more stable, and he stopped his fists. Seeing Rong Chuan lying on the ground and begging for mercy, he thought to himself, he and his brothers cherished Lei Jin in the palm of their hands, yet were still worried about Lei Jin losing a single hair on his head. How dare this lard-blinded werebeast dare to rape him?

He raised his leg to put in one final kick. Rong Chuan had his back to everyone so the people behind him only saw Xiya kicking him in the leg. Jing Ping and Lei Jin happened to be facing the front, and they could clearly see Xiya’s kick was aimed between Rong Chuan’s legs, and at the end, he even grinded it under his foot. Rong Chuan opened his mouth silently, as if he couldn’t breathe, and twitched all over before finally becoming motionless. A drop of cold sweat fell from Lei Jin figuratively. He thought to himself that he must not offend Xiya in the future. Lei Jin came to the first conclusion of the day. When this guy dealt with enemies, his destructive tricks were definitely no less than his own. If one talked about his own knee attack, Rong Chuan still had a one or two percent chance of being cured. But coupled with Xiya’s kick, he determined that Rong Chuan’s thing was definitely going to be just decoration in the future.

Xiya came over, put his arms around Lei Jin’s shoulders, and with a look of regret and tenderness on his face, said affectionately: “It’s all my fault for not protecting you, but it’s okay now, I’m here.” Seeing Lei Jin’s clothes were torn, he took off his own clothes and put them on him without hesitation.

Lei Jin’s eyes twitched, he looked at Xiya and said silently: Are you trying to disgust me?

Knowing that he was never moved by such things, Xiya would never act so blatantly like this in front of him. Did he take the wrong medicine today? It made the hair on neck stand up in a line.

Xiya pressed a fist to his mouth and coughed. He lowered his eyes and signaled to the person who was still unconscious on the ground. He had to find a reasonable excuse to beat him like this. Besides, he didn’t want to just end things here. Sooner or later he would teach that bastard another lesson.

Lei Jin quickly understood what Xiya meant, but he was really not good at pretending to be a weak damsel in distress and looking pitifully aggrieved. Besides, he was a grown man, and if he didn’t disgust others with that act, just thinking about it made him sick to death first, so Lei Jin could only remain expressionless.

Everyone saw it, but had different understandings. They came late and didn’t know what happened before. Now seeing Xiya’s actions, they had an idea in their hearts. Looking at Lei Jin’s expression, they just thought it was Rong Chuan going too far just now, and the female was frightened. Although they didn’t see it with their own eyes, the reputation of Rong Chuan was well-known, so everyone turned to Lei Jin’s side like the east wind blowing the grass on the wall.

Jing Ping stood on the side, watching the two making eyes at each other. The intimacy and tacit understanding between them was self-evident, and his face became dimmer. He clenched his fists and encouraged himself: Jing Ping, Xiya and Lei Jin were mates from the beginning. You can’t be jealous, you have to treat both of them as your brothers.

Raising his hand to wipe away his tears, Jing Ping said: “Xiya, Lei Jin hasn’t had lunch yet. Let’s go home first. The tribe will definitely handle this matter. Don’t worry.” Then he said: “In fact, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have made any random decisions and left Lei Jin alone in the mountain.”

Lei Jin frowned when he heard this and said, “What does this have to do with you? This Rong Chuan had gone home long ago when you guys left. Jing Ping, don’t think too much.”

Xiya also patted his shoulder and comforted him: “I don’t mean to blame you. Lei Jin and I both treat you as a little brother. My brothers and I are all werebeasts, but my cousin is female like you and is similar in age. I think of him every time I see Jing Ping, but he is not as capable as Jing Ping, and he always gets into trouble.”

Lei Jin thought to himself that even he could tell that Jing Ping was interested in Xiya. After all, Jing Ping was young. Even though he tried his best to hide it, his little thoughts were shown on his face. If he didn’t believe Xiya wouldn’t know. Seeing him as a little brother was just an excuse for everything. In fact, to put it bluntly, it was as good as a refusal. Judging from Xiya’s proficiency, it was probably not the first time. At least there was a Jia Nuo in the tribe. Every time they meet, the other would roll his eyes at Lei Jin, as if fearing that others would not know how big his eyes were.

En, there are a lot of peach blossom debts, Lei Jin came to the second conclusion today.

Jing Ping felt bitter in his heart, but he was prepared and was not surprised.

Kun Ge pointed out a few people to carry Rong Chuan, who had already woken up, and bring him back to the tribe. On the way down the mountain, they met Rong Chuan’s papa who came after hearing the news. Seeing Rong Chuan’s state, he hugged him and started crying and scolding the person who did it for being cruel.

Xiya supported Lei Jin and walked at the back. The longer the scolding lasted, the more unpleasant it became. In the end, it even escalated to curses being directed at his own papa, and his face darkened at that time.

Seeing this, Hao Chen frowned in disgust. Though they were both papas, this person was so unscrupulous with his words, so he stepped out from the crowd and said sternly: “Stop shouting like this. You should know that no matter which tribe on the mainland, they will at least expel the werebeast who force females. Beating him is considered a light punishment already. Even if he is beaten to death, you can’t say anything.”

Rong Chuan’s papa knew that what Hao Chen said was reasonable and did not dare to argue. He just said sheepishly: “Rong Chuan is still young and is not sensible.”

“Don’t use the excuse of age. He’s eighteen to nineteen years old. Others at his age can be fathers and can afford to raise their own females and babies.” Hao Chen became stern, without any trace of his usual gentleness and kindness.

Rong Chuan’s papa lowered his head, completely speechless. Kun Ge gestured with his eyes, and the few people who were carrying Rong Chuan helped him leave first, regardless of his papa’s weak objections.

Seeing everyone walking away, Lei Jin suddenly remembered something. He stopped and distanced himself from everyone, squinted his eyes, but it did not affect his gaze as he stared at Xiya and asked, “I don’t seem to have asked your ages.”

That Rong Chuan just now seemed to be in his late twenties, but Jing Ping’s papa actually said that he was eighteen to nineteen years old. What about Xiya and Moya?

A chill ran down Xiya’s spine. He had heard Lei Jin say before that he was twenty-eight years old. Although he didn’t quite believe it, his papa said that the two worlds were different. So he tentatively believed that Lei Jin was indeed twenty-eight years old, but it was best not to tell him about his age for the time being.

“Xiya, Lei Jin, why did you two fall so far behind? Catch up quickly.” Hao Chen turned around and saw the two of them huddled together, whispering.

“Uncle Hao Chen, he’s calling us, let’s go quickly.” Xiya seized the opportunity and said quickly.

You escaped the first of the month, let’s see if you can escape the fifteenth? The more you don’t say anything, the more it means there is something fishy. But seeing that he was eager to avoid it, he nodded lazily and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

Xiya breathed a long sigh of relief. He finally escaped this time, but what about the next time?

After having lunch at Jing Ping’s house, Xiya planned to take Lei Jin to live at Hao Yang’s house. The matter with Rong Chuan could not be solved in a short time. After all, this was the Tiger Tribe, and they also needed to discuss it internally.

Jing Ping went into the kitchen without saying a word and took out the only half a bag of rice left. Since he didn’t have rice pounding tools, Jing Ping had kneaded the rice with his own hands. How could Lei Jin take it? The two of them refused politely back and forth several times. Hao Chen saw it, poured some out of the bag and handed the rest to Lei Jin: “Without you, we wouldn’t even know this thing is edible. You take these, and we will keep some, moreover, there is more in the backyard, waiting to be dried in the sun. We are thinking about how to thresh them easily. Rubbing them by hand is too troublesome and slow.”

Now that the words have come to this point, it would be a bit pretentious for Lei Jin to refuse any more, so he simply accepted it with a gracious thank you. As for the tools for pounding rice, he had vaguely seen them on TV and movies before, but he really did not have much of an impression. It would be impossible for him to remake them.

If it were Roger, it would be possible, but he wouldn’t be able to.

After arriving at Hao Yang’s house, Lei Jin couldn’t wait to wash himself in the spring water in the backyard. He had reached the limit of his endurance. Since the last time Lei Jin drowned, Xiya didn’t trust him alone and went into the house to get a washcloth and came along too. After helping him take off his clothes, he saw clearly the purple fingerprints on his body. His eyes suddenly darkened, but he didn’t ask any more questions. He helped him get into the water, and then he took off his clothes and jumped in as well.

Lei Jin was on guard against him now. When he saw him coming down, he snorted and asked, “Why did you come down with me?”

Xiya wrung the towel in the water and replied with a half-smile, “I also have to take a bath after hunting for several days.”

Lei Jin saw that he had enough reasons and he himself was not one to kick up a fuss unreasonably, so he let him be. But he was secretly on guard to avoid suffering from his losses again and involving himself.

“What are you doing?” As soon as Lei Jin turned around, he heard Xiya paddling over.

“Let me rub your back first.” Xiya said, holding his shoulders.

Lei Jin looked at him suspiciously. One couldn’t blame him for being suspicious. In fact, every time Xiya did something not innocent, there was no sign at all. Who knew if it would be the case this time.

“Does it still hurt here?” Xiya’s fingertips lightly touched the bruise on his waist.

Lei Jin was ticklish and shrank back. He originally wanted to say: If you have something to say, then say it, don’t move your hands or feet. But seeing the worry that couldn’t be hidden in Xiya’s eyes, he suddenly felt a headache. He suppressed his temper and said, “It’s nothing, it was left during the struggle.” After thinking about it, he said, “Don’t look at it, I’m so disgusted. If you want to rub my back, then hurry up. It feels like I’m almost rotting, damn Rong Chuan.” Thinking of that person, Lei Jin seemed to feel that sticky hand on his body again, and couldn’t help but curse.

Xiya saw him turn around and lean on the shore with his back to him. Knowing that Lei Jin had agreed, he picked up a cloth and wiped his back. As for the bruise on his waist, Xiya did not dare to use force and just wiped it lightly.

“Use a little more force and rub it there twice more.” Lei Jin could hardly feel it, which showed how light Xiya was being.

Xiya increased his strength until the patch of skin was red, but Lei Jin still told him to continue.

Xiya sighed, thought of something and asked tentatively: “Do you also feel disgusted when I touch you?”

Lei Jin paused and didn’t reply. He only said, “Don’t change the subject.”

Xiya wondered who was changing the subject? But Lei Jin didn’t deny it immediately, so he should be satisfied.

“You can’t rub it anymore. If you rub it any more, the skin will be broken.” He leaned down and kissed inch by inch along the bruised marks.

“Stop playing, Xiya.” Lei Jin was so startled that he almost jumped up, but from the waist down, Xiya had fixed him in place and he couldn’t move at all.

“It will feel very good.” Xiya’s hand went between Lei Jin’s legs, stroking it skillfully and nimbly.

Jing Yue thought that Xiya’s game had not been taken back yet, so he came to deliver it to him. No one answered the door when he knocked, so he pushed the door open and came in. Before he entered the room, the werebeast’s keen hearing allowed him to hear something he shouldn’t have. Jing Yue placed the game at the door of the room. Reason told him that he must leave now, but there seemed to be a feather scratching him in his heart, prompting him to enter the house quietly. The back door was not closed. There was a tree beside the spring with dense branches and leaves that hung down into the water. Among the branches and leaves, the two bodies overlapped and entangled in a passionate embrace, while broken and ambiguous sounds could also be heard coming from there.

“Is it still hurting inside these days?” It was Xiya’s voice.

“Ngh… take it out…” This was Lei Jin’s voice.

Jing Yue’s ears were burning, and he turned around and ran away without even having time to close the door.

“It seems like it’s really healed.” Xiya took out his fingers.

“Get lost.” Lei Jin kicked him. He had already said so, still he put in his fingers to check for himself.

After a few days like this, Lei Jin stayed at home and did not go out. The days were peaceful. Even the wind blowing was soft, with a freshness unique to a time lacking in industrialization.

He suddenly felt to lazy to ask about Rong Chuan’s affairs. He was so angry that he could grind his teeth into shards at that time. But when Xiya said that Rong Chuan might really become useless there, he felt that there was no need to kill him. Of course, this was if Rongchuan hadn’t succeeded. Under the premise that Rongchuan had really succeeded that day, it would be another matter. Aside from crippling him, he would also have his tiger fur skinned.

Lei Jin lived peacefully here, but he didn’t know what the commotion was like in the tribe at the foot of the mountain. Females were originally very precious and cherished in every tribe, but this Rong Chuan actually used force blatantly. Not to mention, they heard that the female even had a mate. When the werebeast mate tried to stop him, Rong Chuan fought back, which was an even greater crime. It was a heinous crime.

“Did you see it? Did you see it? It’s him. It’s him, the Leopard Tribe werebeast. He searched all the way and found his female in our tribe.” Several young females from the Tiger Tribe gathered together and when they saw Xiya, Jing Yue and several werebeasts walking down the bridge they burst into whispers.

“What a handsome werebeast, and he is so kind to his mate.” Several females did not shy away when they saw the werebeasts approaching. They were all members of the same tribe, and the females were not afraid of these werebeasts harming them.

“But he doesn’t seem to be injured. I saw that Rong Chuan was seriously injured.” One of them asked rationally.

“Stupid, that Rong Chuan must have been clumsy and hit himself.” Another person knocked on his head and looked at Xiya with stars in his eyes.

“Oh…so it’s like that?”

“That must be the case.” There was a chorus of agreement from around him.

It had to be said that this was the power of rumors.

The final result was that Rong Chuan was kicked out of the Tiger Tribe. This was already a heavy punishment for a werebeast. It was very difficult for a werebeast alone to survive in the wild, but this thing had spread all over the trihe, who dared to keep such a person in the tribe? What if all the werebeasts went out one day, what would happen to the females in their family?

That day, Hao Chen brought some dried meat and rice to see Lei Jin, and told him the decision.

“What about his papa?” Over these days, he had already seen that papa had no ordinary love for him.

“Ai…” Hao Chen sighed and said, “He followed. I hope Rong Chuan can learn a lesson this time. If he still relied on his papa to support him outside…”

Hao Chen didn’t finish, but Lei Jin also understood.

“Rong Chuan’s papa dotes on him too much.” Hao Chen shook his head and also felt exasperated.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Lei Jin smiled and did not respond.

Hao Chen looked at him, and the unknown emotion in Lei Jin’s eyes flashed past, returning to usual.

Other than feeling a little sore, Lei Jin’s arms had no other sensation anymore. Xiya had been busy preparing some food these days, and went to Mu Yue to get some medicine, planning for their return to the Leopard Tribe in the next few days.

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