In-Progress, The Kingdom That Never Sleeps

The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 092 The Imperial Faction

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At the Prince Jing’s residence, Princess Jing was in tears all day, and the Carefree Prince, Zhao Ao, frowned constantly, sighing deeply.  

The heir, Zhao Qiong, was so anxious that he couldn’t sit still. Just then, a servant came to report that Tang Shen had sent a letter. Princess Jing wondered, “Could it be that Tang Shen is interested in our Wan’er and wishes to marry her?”  

Zhao Qiong opened the letter, gave a surprised “Oh?”, and then handed it to Prince Zhao Ao, saying, “Father, take a look.”  

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After reading the letter, Zhao Ao was equally astonished.  

Prince Jing summoned his son to the study, and the two discussed it for an hour. Afterward, Prince Jing went to the palace.  

By nightfall, a eunuch arrived from the palace, saying the emperor had asked Prince Jing to stay overnight.  

Upon hearing this, Zhao Qiong breathed a sigh of relief and said to Princess Jing, “It seems my sister won’t have to marry into the Liao State.”  

The next day, Prince Jing returned. He called Zhao Qiong to the study, pulled out a book from the shelf, and retrieved a letter hidden between its pages. Zhao Ao looked at the letter with a complex expression and sighed, “I’ve known my imperial brother since childhood, and we grew up together. Yet, after more than fifty years, I still can’t fathom his thoughts. Qiong’er, those officials in the court, though unrelated by blood, are far better than us at understanding His Majesty’s intentions.”  

Looking at the letter, Zhao Qiong was filled with emotion as well.  

For days, the Prince Jing residence had been shrouded in gloom over the peace marriage. Zhao Qiong never expected Tang Shen to send such a letter. In it, Tang Shen outlined three possible strategies.  

“The Song-Liao peace marriage is inevitable, like an arrow ready to release. Yet, the heir’s love for his sister moves heaven and earth. I, Jing Ze, cannot alleviate your worry, and I have been restless day and night. Humbly, I propose three possible solutions to the heir.”  

“First, feigning illness to avoid the marriage.”

“Misfortune strikes without warning, and people are subject to sudden illness. A peace marriage between nations is a significant matter, not to be taken lightly. If the lady falls ill, she naturally cannot marry. However, this approach risks His Majesty’s suspicion and may tarnish the lady’s reputation.”

“Second, claiming a preexisting marriage arrangement.”

“Should this strategy be used, finding a suitable groom is the first challenge, and convincing His Majesty without arousing suspicion is the second. Moreover, this might delay the lady’s prospects for a good match.”  

“Third, advancing through retreat, defending through attack.”

“As a close sibling of His Majesty, Prince Jing has a deep bond with His Majesty. During cold winters, Prince Jing often accompanies His Majesty, sharing worries and solving problems. If Prince Jing requests an audience with His Majesty and voluntarily offers his youngest daughter for marriage, while showing reluctance, there might be room for negotiation.”

The first and second strategies had already been considered by the Prince Jing household. However, as Tang Shen pointed out, these could arouse the emperor’s suspicion and harm the young lady’s future. The third option, on the other hand, was a bold gamble. If Zhao Ao voluntarily offered his daughter and the emperor accepted, it would be a complete loss for him.  

Yet, the most suitable noblewoman in the capital for the marriage was none other than the young lady of Prince Jing’s residence. Zhao Ao had even received news the previous day that the emperor intended for his youngest daughter to marry into the Liao State. At this point, it was a desperate situation—success or failure would decide everything.  

Thus, Zhao Ao entered the palace, seeking an audience with the emperor and proposing his daughter for the peace marriage.  

In Chuigong Hall, Emperor Zhao Fu was astonished by Prince Jing’s words.  

Holding a vermilion brush in his hand, the emperor looked at Zhao Ao with surprise and asked with concern, “Why would you suddenly say such a thing, my imperial brother?”  

Zhao Ao replied earnestly, “As a prince of the Song Dynasty, I have never contributed much to our nation. Without my imperial brother saying it, I already know that Wan’er is the best candidate. The people of the capital call me the ‘carefree prince,’ but that title only highlights my incompetence! Now, the Liao emperor seeks to marry a Song princess—how can I turn a blind eye?”  

Zhao Ao’s words were sincere, though his trembling hands and quivering beard betrayed his reluctance and pain. He tried to hide his emotions, but how could Zhao Fu not see through him? The emperor gazed at his younger brother quietly for a long moment before finally saying, “Are you speaking truthfully?”  

Zhao Ao shuddered. “Yes.”  

The emperor sighed. “Since when did we brothers begin speaking with such pretense?”  

That evening, Emperor Zhao Fu kept Zhao Ao in the palace, and the two brothers reminisced about their childhood. The emperor, pleased and nostalgic, recalled the simpler days of their youth. After thirty years as an emotionless ruler, he felt a twinge of compassion for his aging brother.  

Clasping Zhao Ao’s hand, he said, “Don’t worry. I have my own plan.”  

Zhao Ao finally breathed a sigh of relief.  

A few days later, the emperor announced that the chosen bride for the Liao State would be the daughter of the late Ninth Prince’s household. The Ninth Prince’s family, long neglected and without influence, had already fallen into decline. The emperor restored the young lady’s royal status, titled her as a princess, and sent her to the Liao State.  

While the Ninth Prince’s household was filled with wailing and lamentation, the rest of the capital celebrated with relief.  

As the New Year approached, the Liao envoys prepared to return home.  

On the twenty-first day of the twelfth month, Tang Shen donned his court robes and a fox-fur cloak. He extended his hand to catch a snowflake.  

The sky was a gray haze, and gentle snow blanketed the ground in silence. Pulling his cloak tighter, Tang Shen walked toward the palace. After attending morning court, he reviewed official documents and submitted reports. An hour later, the emperor summoned him to Chuigong Hall.  

Adjusting his official robes, Tang Shen braved the heavy snow to answer the summons.  

Meeting the emperor required removing his cloak, and the journey left Tang Shen’s lips purple from the cold. Fortunately, upon entering the hall, he was met with a wave of warmth as eunuchs pulled back the heavy curtains.  

The emperor, cradling a hand-warmer, sat on a couch, leisurely eating walnuts. A eunuch carefully cracked the shells with a small hammer and picked out the nutmeats for him.  

Seeing Tang Shen, the emperor glanced him over and said to Ji Fu, “Look how frozen Jing Ze is—the weather is growing colder by the day.”  

Ji Fu, ever perceptive, replied, “Your Majesty, you wouldn’t know, but the snowfall earlier was so heavy it numbed my ears when this slave went outside earlier. Shall I prepare a hand-warmer for Tang daren?”  

The emperor didn’t respond, instead waving his hand. “Give him a seat.”  

Two eunuchs brought a chair closer to the brazier. After bowing, Tang Shen sat down, saying, “Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty.”

Zhao Fu remained silent, continuing to crack walnuts one by one. After a while, he said, “Jing Ze, what brings you to see me today? Do you have something to say? What you wrote in your memorial is rather interesting, but you are still too young.”  

Tang Shen’s alarm bells went off in his head. Not daring to remain seated, he immediately stood and bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty, ever since I received the Liao envoys a month ago, I have had extensive contact with them. As an official and a citizen of the Song dynasty, I have been restless and unable to sleep this past month. The more I interact with the Liao envoys, the more deeply troubled I become.”  

The sharp crack of a walnut shell breaking echoed through Chuigong Hall as a young eunuch worked diligently.  

Zhao Fu raised his head and asked, “By the way, has Li Jingde been with you since his return to the capital?”  

Tang Shen thought for a moment before replying, “General Li is deeply concerned about the northwest and suspicious of whether the Liao envoys have ulterior motives for visiting the capital. Therefore, he has been assisting me in receiving them.”  

Zhao Fu chuckled and scolded, “What could possibly be amiss? To have a brute like him handle the Liao envoys—what an idea!”  

Tang Shen bowed his head. “I am guilty of a mistake.”  

“Do not repeat it,” Zhao Fu said, dismissing it lightly. “The Song and Liao dynasties are on good terms, and the princess will soon marry into the Liao imperial family. Jing Ze, you don’t need to overthink things.”  

Tang Shen thought to himself: Good terms with Liao? Who was it that, during the feast at Shengping Tower, plastered on a smile, acting as though they were utterly incompetent to curry favor with the Liao envoys, only to summon Li Jingde to Immortal Ascension Platform afterward and give him a thorough scolding for not dealing with the Liao people properly, which caused him to have to embarrass himself in front of the Liao envoys?

The reality was that the Song dynasty couldn’t defeat the Liao, and the Liao weren’t willing to expend resources to annex Song for the time being.  

Such was the current state of affairs.  

And now Zhao Fu had the nerve to claim “good terms with Liao”? 

Truly, preserving appearances while suffering inwardly.

Still, Tang Shen couldn’t point this out and had to follow the emperor’s narrative. “Your Majesty is correct, and I am aware. However, one cannot allow others to snore beside one’s bed. Your Majesty, vigilance is essential. Forgive me for speaking boldly, but the Liao people must not be underestimated.”  

Zhao Fu appeared deep in thought and sighed. “Well, Jing Ze’s concerns are not entirely baseless.”  

In the silent hall, Ji Fu stood dutifully nearby, holding a whisk. Imperial chamberlains diligently recorded Tang Shen’s audience with the emperor.  

Tang Shen bowed again and said respectfully, “I believe that in dealing with the Liao, the Song dynasty cannot afford to be passive. Before returning to Youzhou, General Li mentioned to me that if given ten years, he could train a force as strong as the Liao cavalry.”  

Zhao Fu froze mid-motion, his hand gripping the walnut meat. His eyes gleamed as he looked up at Tang Shen and asked eagerly, “Li Jingde said that?”  

Tang Shen nodded firmly. “Yes, he said so.”  

Thousands of miles away, in Youzhou, General Li Jingde, Marshal of the Western Expedition, sneezed violently. “Which damn Liao bastard is plotting against me now?”  

Back in Chuigong Hall, Tang Shen continued, “However, training troops takes time and cannot be accomplished overnight. It requires not only time but also funding. The Northwest Silver Pull Division plays a crucial role in this. I believe that if the division collaborates with the Feilong Army, their combined efforts could indeed produce an army as formidable as the Liao cavalry.”  

Hearing this, Zhao Fu’s expression relaxed, and he seemed quite pleased. Yet, as if something had suddenly occurred to him, the joy in his eyes dimmed slightly. Looking at Tang Shen, he asked in a low voice, “Did Zi Feng tell you this?”  

Tang Shen’s heart skipped a beat. After a brief pause, he said, “Wang daren did mention it to me.”  

The hall fell silent for a moment before Zhao Fu sighed, “You and your senior brother seem to work together seamlessly for my benefit.”  

Tang Shen lowered his head and said nothing.  

Zhao Fu added, “I’ve read your memorial about the Silver Pull Division. These matters are Wang Zifeng’s responsibility and have little to do with you. However, Jing Ze, the additional points you mentioned at the end had me confused—what exactly are you proposing?”  

Tang Shen raised his head and replied, “Your Majesty, I believe the Silver Pull Division should not be limited to managing military finances. To use it solely for such purposes would be to underutilize it.” Without mentioning Zhao Fu’s long-term plan to use the division for nationwide monetary reform—a matter Tang Shen wasn’t supposed to know—he instead said, “The division can also penetrate deep into Liao territory to gather intelligence.”  

Zhao Fu stared intently at Tang Shen, making him feel uneasy.  

As an attendant secretary, Tang Shen’s position lacked a clear set of responsibilities, unlike ministers of the six ministries or military commanders like Li Jingde. Officials from the Secretariat like him were expected to serve as problem-solvers for the emperor.  

By bypassing Xu Bi to seek an audience directly with Zhao Fu, Tang Shen had not overstepped his authority. However, it clearly showed that he did not see himself as a member of Xu Bi’s faction.  

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Tang Shen was loyal solely to the emperor.  

Over the past two years, Xu Bi had never fully trusted Tang Shen or drawn him into his inner circle. Similarly, Tang Shen had not aligned himself with Xu Bi.  

Suddenly, Zhao Fu burst into laughter. “I did not expect you and Fei Ran to think so alike in this matter!”  

Tang Shen was startled.  

Fei Ran?

Su Wenyun?!

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In-Progress, Top Dupe

Top Dupe CH 092 Between You And Me, There’s No Final Chapter Part 2

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A dim lamp hung from the ceiling of the cabin, the coals in the stove crackled, and a deer head mount adorned the wall above the fireplace. Wen Yuchi lay on a rocking chair draped in animal fur.

Wen Yuchi slowly came to, his head pounding as though it would explode. He pounded his head with his fist, and pain shot up his back. Reaching behind him, he found what felt like a bandage. The pain made him fully alert.

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Feeling carefully, he suspected someone had made a small incision in his back, then stitched it up.

What in the world was going on?

As he tried to stand, he realized a chain was fastened to his ankle, less than a meter long, with the other end embedded firmly in the ground.

And in the chair opposite him lay Lu Pingfeng!

Lu Pingfeng’s head was turned to the side, sound asleep, his arms dangling off the chair, and his ankle was also chained.

Wen Yuchi looked around and saw that, besides the two of them, the cabin seemed empty.

“Mr. Lu! Mr. Lu! Lu Pingfeng!” Wen Yuchi tried to move closer to Lu Pingfeng but was pulled back by the chain.

He picked up a stick from the ground and threw it at Lu Pingfeng.

Hit on the head, Lu Pingfeng frowned and finally opened his eyes.

“Tsss—” The first thing Lu Pingfeng did upon waking was touch his own back, indicating he had a wound just like Wen Yuchi.

“Hah, Mr. Bigshot Artist, I thought you were dead.” Wen Yuchi breathed a slight sigh of relief.

“Where are we? How did I end up here?” Lu Pingfeng asked, rubbing his temples.

“Who knows? I got in a cab back to the station for some overtime work, dozed off for no reason, and woke up in this hellhole. What about you?”

“Captain Zhao showed me a photo of the Song of the Evening and I realized it was a forgery. He asked me to go to your station to verify it in person.”

“So? You don’t even take cabs. How’d you get caught?” Wen Yuchi asked.

“My driver was taking me, but I smelled something strange and fell asleep.” Lu Pingfeng’s frown deepened, apparently suffering from a headache as well.

Wen Yuchi leaned back into his chair and started to lazily rock, saying, “Looks like you’re in the same boat as me. I’m guessing the fake Song of the Evening Captain Zhao found triggered the killer. Keep digging, and we’ll find a lead on the serial murders. Or maybe we did something that spooked the mastermind.”

Lu Pingfeng glanced at Wen Yuchi, rubbing the wound on his back, and said helplessly, “I can’t believe how calm you are. Aren’t you afraid of being silenced?”

“Whoever went to such lengths to bring you and me here isn’t planning to kill us right away, right?”

“So, what’s the point?” Lu Pingfeng asked.

At that moment, the cabin door opened, and a gust of wind caused the firelight in the fireplace to dim and then flare back up.

Against the light, someone entered with stiff strides.

It was Lu Pingfeng’s driver, his face pale and eyes full of fear.

“Old Han? You’re here too? What’s going on?” Lu Pingfeng’s brows furrowed.

Old Han trembled as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, with a printed message. He read it aloud mechanically.

“Lu Pingfeng, you’ve disappointed me deeply. When your paintings lost their deadly allure, filled instead with vulgar colors, you lost my devotion and affection. I created you, yet you wish to escape my control, so I must remind you of your true nature—death will always be your theme.”

Wen Yuchi sat up straight, his expression shifting from casual to serious. “What are you babbling about? Who created whom?”

“You have 24 hours: either kill my mediocre heirs or kill the man who caused you to lose your faith in death—Wen Yuchi.”

Wen Yuchi looked incredulous, pointing to himself. “Me? Making Lu Pingfeng lose his faith in death? That’s some halo!”

“Let me enjoy this final feast. If you win, you’ll become my sole heir. If you lose, then you’ll join my collection of death.”

After reading the paper, Old Han, full of terror, threw two keys between Wen Yuchi and Lu Pingfeng, then started shouting into the cabin, “I’ve done what you asked! I don’t want to die! This has nothing to do with me! Let me live; I want to go home! I want to go home!”

He then began to rummage frantically through the cabin, shouting madly, “Where… where is it, the antidote?! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

“Old Han, calm down. Did you take some kind of drug? Getting worked up like this will just speed up the effects of whatever it is!” Wen Yuchi called out, hoping the other man would calm down and get a clear grasp of the situation.

But Old Han didn’t listen; he was almost ready to crawl into the fireplace to look for the antidote.

“No… Why is there no antidote?! They lied to me! Why did they lie to me?!”

Wen Yuchi and Lu Pingfeng both got up and searched their chairs, lifting the cushions and fur pads, but couldn’t find the antidote Old Han mentioned.

Suddenly, Old Han collapsed to the ground, his body trembling violently.

“Damn!” Wen Yuchi lay on the ground, stretching his arm to reach for the key on the floor, while Lu Pingfeng stood calmly, watching Old Han’s death throes with a deep gaze.

Wen Yuchi’s ankle was almost cut from the restraints, but he finally hooked the key and unlocked himself.

He rushed to Old Han’s side. By then, Old Han was coughing up blood continuously and couldn’t even speak.

“Old Han, did you see who kidnapped us? How many of them are there? What are their intentions? Old Han! Old Han!”

Old Han turned his face, using his last bit of strength to lift his hand, pointing at Lu Pingfeng. His eyes suddenly widened, and then his hand fell down.

Wen Yuchi checked his pulse and then sat back, exhaling.

“Is he dead?” Lu Pingfeng turned slightly, looking into Old Han’s eyes as he spoke.

Wen Yuchi opened Old Han’s mouth and sniffed, but there was no distinctive smell, so he couldn’t determine the drug’s composition yet.

“Yes, he’s dead.” Wen Yuchi stood up and found a cloth to cover Old Han’s body. “This is a warning from the mastermind, telling us to follow his rules. And this big boss believes he’s the one who ‘created’ you. Seems like he’s been silently watching you all these years.”

As he spoke, Wen Yuchi bent down, picked up another key, and tossed it to Lu Pingfeng.

“You still dare to set me free? Did you forget Old Han pointed at me before he died?” Lu Pingfeng asked with a smile.

“Maybe he pointed at you because being your driver brought him bad luck, and he got dragged into this for no reason. Or maybe he wanted to tell you something, but you were standing too far away.”

Lu Pingfeng unlocked the restraint on his ankle, then picked up a piece of paper from the floor, carefully going over the message on it.

Wen Yuchi wandered around the hunting cabin for a while but found no other useful clues or weapons—not even a small knife.

There were a few abandoned, poorly functioning animal traps, though.

“Aren’t you supposed to blame me for being cold-hearted since Old Han’s death doesn’t bother me?” Lu Pingfeng said.

“Heh.” Wen Yuchi stood in front of a stuffed deer, looking at it closely. “Your model dies, and you feel nothing. Your agent dies, and it doesn’t affect you. But if Old Han died and you suddenly cried out in distress, that would be strange. Besides… it was clear he wasn’t going to survive, even if you rushed to his side.”

“I’m wondering why this person would think he ‘created’ me,” Lu Pingfeng mused.

“Forget who created you. Think about why you may have offended your ‘creator.'” Wen Yuchi took the paper and rubbed his chin. “Judging by his words, he only wants to see you depict death. Did he freak out because you painted something he didn’t like? ‘Full of vulgar colors’… What’s that supposed to mean?” Wen Yuchi asked.

Lu Pingfeng folded the paper, not answering directly. Instead, he said, “When you return, you can take your time and enjoy it.”

“Are you sure I’ll even make it back?”

Lu Pingfeng didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “What do we do now? Wait here for Captain Zhao to notice we’re missing and come look for us, or go out and figure out where we are? And this so-called ‘battle of the heirs’ on the paper… Are they planning a ‘battle royale’?”

Wen Yuchi continued to stare at the deer, then suddenly moved toward it, stood on his tiptoes, and pried out the deer’s eye.

Behind the deer’s eye was a camera.

“If I’m not mistaken, someone here loves the theme of death even more than you do.” Wen Yuchi’s expression turned cold as he threw the eye to Lu Pingfeng. “Someone’s watching us like a live show.”

Wen Yuchi returned to Old Han’s body, unbuttoning his clothes.

“Are you going to examine him barehanded?”

“Of course not. That would damage the body and hinder future autopsies.” Wen Yuchi turned Old Han over, uncovering a blood-soaked bandage on his back. Removing it revealed a stitched wound.

The wound was slightly raised, as if something was inside.

Wen Yuchi used the key to cut the stitches and removed a small thumb-sized container.

He unscrewed the container, revealing a tiny pill inside.

“The antidote he wanted may have been on him all along.”

Wen Yuchi put the antidote back in the container, then pocketed it.

“We have something on our backs, too.”

“But I suspect it’s someone else’s antidote. And nowhere in your ‘game instructions’ does it say we’re poisoned.”

“Someone else might come for the antidote on our backs and kill us.”

At that moment, footsteps approached outside the hunting cabin.

Lu Pingfeng’s expression sharpened, and he quickly pulled Wen Yuchi with him to hide behind the door.

Wen Yuchi felt his hand covering his mouth, holding his breath.

The door creaked open, and Wen Yuchi instinctively turned his head, noticing a man walking in. When he saw the two empty chairs, he frowned.

The man held a knife, its cold glint flashing past Wen Yuchi’s eyes, forcing him to turn his head into Lu Pingfeng’s chest.

The man didn’t expect them to be hiding behind the door. Instead, his attention was drawn to Old Han’s body on the ground. He flipped Old Han over, and seeing the exposed bandage, his face darkened. “Damn, the antidote’s gone!”

If he turned around, he would see Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi, but the distance was also close enough for them to make a dash out the door.

But if they wanted to understand what was going on, they had to get information from this guy.

Lu Pingfeng signaled Wen Yuchi, then slowly released him and carefully approached the man.

The man was still searching Old Han’s pockets, hoping he had retrieved the antidote himself.

Lu Pingfeng’s steps were light, but when his shadow appeared in front of the man, he was immediately alerted and stabbed toward Lu Pingfeng with the knife.

What he didn’t expect was that Wen Yuchi would come from the other side, grabbing a rusty iron cup from the table and smashing it against the man’s head.

The cup wasn’t as effective as a brick, but it was enough to distract the man, allowing Lu Pingfeng to grab his wrist and twist it, forcing him to drop the knife.

Wen Yuchi quickly caught the knife, turning it and pressing it against the man’s throat.

“If you want to live, behave.”

They then tied the man to the rocking chair and locked him up.

“Speak. Who are you? What’s going on? Where are we?” Lu Pingfeng demanded coldly.

The man looked at them, laughing bitterly. “Who would’ve thought—you two are the prey and don’t even know the situation!”

Wen Yuchi closed his eyes, recalling recent case developments, and then pointed at the man. “You… you look like Zhuang Jie’s nephew, named Li something…”

“Yes, I’m Zhuang Jie’s nephew, Li Heng! I got a message saying my uncle was near death, so I rushed to the hospital, with a car arranged to pick me up downstairs. But as soon as I got in, I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was on this island!”

“An island? This is an island?”

“Yes.”

“Besides us, who else is on this island?” Wen Yuchi asked.

“I guess… everyone who could inherit my uncle’s estate! I’ve seen another cousin and a niece…”

“When you came in, you immediately checked Old Han’s back. Why?” Wen Yuchi motioned toward Old Han.

“Because I was told I was poisoned. The poison would take effect in 24 hours, and I need the antidote on your backs to survive.”

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Wen Yuchi laughed, tapping the man’s face with the knife. “Is it only our antidote you want? We have a ‘game manual’ too. We’re just asking to see if yours is the same.”

Hearing this, Li Heng’s face went pale, and after a long pause, he swallowed and said, “We’re also required to kill all other heirs or… kill the forensic expert named Wen Yuchi. My uncle will only take one person off this island.”

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Feline Mystique, In-Progress

Feline Mystique CH 021 Infighting Among Pets

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The sky outside the Combat Division headquarters was painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun set. Felix trudged down the street, his body aching from the day’s demands (having gone through another simulated mission this time in an urban setting under the demands of their taskmaster Sergeant Flintstone.)

His mind replayed the day’s events—the Corrupted’s disturbing appearance, the sting of embarrassment from his secret weakness getting out, the ease and savagery with which Jax dealt that killing blow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out of his depth, relying too much on luck and ingrained instinct.

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

When he finally reached his apartment building, the thought of a slice of pizza and sleep was the only thing keeping him moving. But as he approached his door, he heard the unmistakable sounds of an argument inside.

“Just one quiet evening,” he muttered, steeling himself before stepping in.

Even after the hot shower back at headquarters, every muscle in his body screamed for rest after the day’s grueling training. His silvery-white hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and he hadn’t bothered to fix his clothes after haphazardly throwing them on. All he wanted was a quiet evening to recharge, but the scene that greeted him was anything but peaceful.

Virgil was sprawled on the couch, throwing peanuts into the air and catching them with his mouth. Occasionally, one would bounce off his face or the couch, adding to the growing mess of snack debris surrounding him. “When’s Felix getting home?” he whined, his voice a mix of boredom and dramatic petulance. “I’m dying here. Someone text him. Is he almost home?”

Sorath, standing at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, was scrubbing a seemingly endless pile of dirty dishes. His jaw clenched tighter with every peanut Virgil dropped on the floor. “Maybe if you spent half as much time cleaning up after yourself as you do whining, this place wouldn’t look like a trash heap.”

“Relax, Mister Mzia,” Virgil drawled, not bothering to look away from his peanut toss. “I’ll clean it up later.”

That set off the fiery tempered motorcycle enthusiast.

Sorath slammed a plate onto the drying rack so hard it clattered dangerously. He whirled around, water dripping from his hands, his stormy blue-grey eyes blazing. “Later? Later?! That’s what you said all the previous times! It’s been so many times I’ve lost count! Are you a sloth or just a slob?”

Virgil yawned, barely looking up. “I’m busy conducting valuable snack research. Felix needs to know what’s worth eating.” He caught another peanut and crunched loudly. “I’m contributing in my own way.”

Sorath’s sudsy hands slapped onto the marble counter with an audible smack as if it was a certain someone’s face. “Snack research? Are you serious right now? You’ve done nothing but lounge around all day while I’ve been cleaning up your mess!”

“Okay, now you’re exaggerating, don’t think I don’t know you’re just taking your frustrations out on me—”

“That’s it!” Sorath shouted, his voice rising. “I’m done cleaning up after you! Even an infant makes less of a mess than you! You’re impossible to live with!”

Felix stood frozen in the doorway, watching this domestic spat playing out in front of him. None of them seemed to have noticed his arrival back home, too distracted with the shouting.

“As if you’re any better! Don’t act like a saint when I know you’ve been drinking from that secret stash of yours just this morning!” Virgil countered, jumping up and pointing at Sorath accusingly.

“Like you’re one to talk, at least I know when to stop before turning into a wretched drunkard that pukes all over the place!”

Felix pressed his lips into a tight thin line. Just what did his pets get up to while he was at work? There would be a serious discussion on this later. “Uh, guys? Can we not do this?”

But the bickering continued. And it seemed to only be getting worse, with Thel suddenly deciding to join in as well.

The tall young man’s raven curls were as usual, meticulously combed and parted to the side, managing to remain neat even now after an entire day. He had been silently ironing his crisp white shirts at the dining table the whole time, but only chose now to chime in with his usual cutting tone. “You really shouldn’t expect much, Goodwine. St. Lilith’s contribution to this household begins and ends with his ability to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Virgil was now jabbing his accusing finger at Thel’s direction with an offended expression. “Huh, then I guess sarcasm must be what you bring.”

“Better sarcasm than laziness,” Thel retorted, folding a perfectly ironed shirt just so to add to the finished pile next to him. “Perhaps Felix might consider sending you back. You will be sorely unmissed.”

“You’re just mad because I’m not some uptight neat freak,” Virgil shot back, gesturing at Thel’s shirts. “What’s with all the ironing, anyway? You going to a funeral or something?”

“It’s called not looking like an abandoned vagabond,” Thel snapped. “Did you not learn anything in school? It’s no wonder you’re 22 and still unchosen until Felix came along and was gullible enough to pick you.”

Albrecht sat by the window, scrolling through his phone with an air of practiced indifference. He didn’t so much as glance at the displays of ire and spewing of vitriol around him, though his posture suggested he was perfectly aware of every word being exchanged. Occasionally, he would tut or exclaim at something on his screen, as if the unfolding chaos wasn’t worth his attention.

“You could help, you know,” Sorath growled, glaring at him.

“Help with what?” Albrecht replied, still engrossed in his phone. “This riveting debate? Or the thankless task of cleaning up after that giant infant? I think I’ll pass.”

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, the day’s exhaustion making his patience thin. “I’m serious. Cut it out.”

Not even Albrecht paid him any mind, too busy doing whatever it was on his phone.

Finally throwing his hands up in exasperation, Felix made his way to the fridge, all the while wondering when these guys would notice that he was actually back. He pulled out a box of leftover pizza, the thought of a comforting slice lifting his spirits ever so slightly.

“Felix,” Thel’s voice suddenly cut off the fight that might have spread to Albrecht as well judging by the irritated looks on both Sorath and Virgil’s faces. It was no surprise that Albrecht opening his mouth would’ve just escalated things and might’ve even been better if he had not been pulled into the argument. 

Oh, now you guys notice that your poor, exhausted owner is back. Felix turned to see him standing there, arms crossed and gaze stern. “You shouldn’t eat that.”

Felix blinked slowly, confused. “It’s just pizza.”

“It’s junk,” Thel said bluntly. He walked over, plucking the box from Felix’s hands. “You’re a Regal One. You need proper nutrition to keep up with your training.”

“I’ve had a long day, Thel. Just let me have this,” Felix said, trying to stay calm. But even as he had managed to remain composed when his pets were infighting, he now suddenly found himself feeling a little more than annoyed. 

But Thel was unyielding and did not heed the warning in Felix’s tone. He opened the garbage chute and dropped the box in without a second thought.

Virgil bolted over from the living. “Hey! That was Felix’s dinner!”

“It was garbage food,” Thel replied, unfazed. “Felix needs real sustenance, not whatever poison you keep stocking in the kitchen.”

Virgil bristled, stepping closer. “Watch that controlling asshattery! Felix is our master—he can make his own choices.”

Sorath, still fuming from the earlier argument, sided with Thel. “Maybe if you stopped filling the apartment with junk, we wouldn’t have this problem in the first place.”

The three of them devolved into another round of shouting. Felix stood there, his hands clenched into fists, his ears buzzing from the sheer volume. And his pizza gone down the garbage chute.

Finally, he snapped. “Enough!”

Everyone froze. Even Albrecht startled and finally looked up from his phone.

Felix’s fluffy white cat ears popped out from his silvery hair, twitching angrily, and his long, feathery tail lashed behind him like a whip. His ruby eyes glinted with frustration. “Coming back home shouldn’t be as exhausting as going to work! Is that too much to ask?”

A sudden chagrined silence filled the room. Sorath looked apologetic, Thel frustrated at himself, and Virgil opened his mouth several times as if to say something.

But before anyone else could speak, Albrecht rose smoothly from his seat, his earlier uncaring replaced with calm precision. He crossed the room and placed a hand on Felix’s head, gently stroking his hair. His fingers brushed over Felix’s twitching ears, calming their erratic movements.

Felix stiffened at first but couldn’t stop the tension from draining out of him under Albrecht’s soothing touch. His tail swished more slowly, and the fire in his ruby eyes dimmed.

“What are you doing?” Felix muttered, though his voice had lost most of its edge.

“Relaxing you, my dear,” Albrecht said simply, his tone as smooth as his movements.

To Felix’s horror—and slight relief—it worked. A soft purr built in his chest, and the tension in his shoulders eased.

Once Felix seemed more relaxed, Albrecht pulled back, his hand lingering for just a moment on the velvety softness of those pointed ears before he straightened. “Clearly, we all need a change of scenery. Which is why I’ve taken the liberty of planning a little getaway.”

Felix repeated skeptically. “A getaway?”

Albrecht held up his phone, displaying a reservation confirmation. “Misty Springs Inn. Three nights, two days. This weekend, starting tomorrow after you get off from work.”

Virgil’s face lit up. “Hot springs? Seriously?”

Sorath crossed his arms but didn’t argue. Even Thel seemed intrigued, though he muttered something about clever distractions.

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

Felix wavered, the exasperation over Albrecht being extravagant yet again struggled with the prospect of a getaway. The latter eventually won out and loosened the remaining knots in his shoulders. “Fine. But next time, leave the pizza alone.”

Thel raised an eyebrow and looked like he was about to protest but Albrecht only smiled dotingly. “Duly noted. We shall simply have gourmet pizza instead.”

AN: ever wonder what your pets do while you’re not home? 😆

In-Progress, The Kingdom That Never Sleeps

The Kingdom That Never Sleeps CH 091 I Don’t Want To Get Married

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Tang Shen did not have much interaction with Zhao Qiong, but he knew Zhao Qiong was not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Tang Shen had opened Xixia Tower and Baibao Pavilion in Shengjing, yet he left the soap and essential oil businesses to others. His business partner was none other than Zhao Qiong, the Heir Apparent of Prince Jing.  

Tang Shen still remembered their first meeting at the Prince Jing Manor. Zhao Qiong had hosted a banquet for the top imperial exam candidates, managing every detail with precision. But now, seeing Zhao Qiong so dejected was a stark contrast.  

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

Clearly, Zhao Qiong truly cared for his younger sister.  

Tang Shen asked, “Heir, is there really no way to resolve this?”  

Zhao Qiong sighed, “We, the imperial clan, may have noble titles and resounding names, but in the Song Dynasty, unlike previous dynasties, we are forbidden from interfering in politics. We are nothing more than figureheads. You know this, Jing Ze. The Liao Emperor’s proposal to marry a Song princess is straightforward, not troublesome at all. His Majesty has already agreed, and there’s no going back now. What can we do?”  

Tang Shen considered and said, “Heir, you must have heard that daughters of noble families often feign illness to avoid being selected for the imperial harem.”  

Zhao Qiong replied, “That is one way, but it is a last resort. Actually, we’ve also thought about quickly arranging a marriage for my sister.”  

Tang Shen’s heart sank as a foreboding feeling crept in. He asked, “Heir means…?”  

Zhao Qiong smiled bitterly, “My sister has loved reading since she was a child. She excels in poetry, painting, music, and embroidery. She is gentle, graceful, and modest. We had planned to find her a suitable match next year and wouldn’t settle for anyone less than ideal. But now, with this situation…” He paused, clasping his hands together. “Tang daren, I’ve heard you are not yet betrothed.”  

Tang Shen’s eyelid twitched, and his head began to ache.  

“If you are willing, I can act as a matchmaker and arrange for this marriage.”  

Tang Shen was dumbfounded, speechless. Seeing Zhao Qiong’s hopeful gaze, his mind went blank. Amid his confusion, the first person he thought of was Wang Zhen. He almost blurted out, I need to ask my senior brother first.

Thankfully, he held his tongue.  

Tang Shen replied, “Heir, I have no plans to marry yet.”  

Zhao Qiong pressed on, “Are you worried my sister isn’t beautiful enough?”  

Tang Shen couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not. Heir, I genuinely have no intention of getting married yet!”  

Despite several more attempts, Tang Shen continuously declined. Zhao Qiong sighed deeply, looking even more troubled. “To be honest, hastily arranging a marriage for my sister isn’t a great idea either. While it could save her from marrying into Liao, it would inevitably attract His Majesty’s attention and leave him with a poor impression of our Prince Jing family. But we have no other options.”  

Tang Shen poured Zhao Qiong a cup of tea.  

Zhao Qiong continued, “Jing Ze, you’re not our only choice, but you are the best choice. We’ve known each other for three years. If we claim you and my sister have long been interested in each other but haven’t formalized the engagement, it might avoid His Majesty’s wrath. Besides, I trust your character, talents, and appearance. You are a perfect match. Marrying my sister to you would put my mind at ease.”  

Tang Shen smiled wryly, “Heir flatters me. I am unworthy of such praise.”  

Seeing that Tang Shen was unlikely to become his brother-in-law, Zhao Qiong took the matter lightly, joking, “Jing Ze, don’t be so modest. You’re quite the eligible bachelor in Shengjing! Haven’t you noticed? Over the years, many noble families and officials have had their eyes on you, hoping to match their daughters with you.”  

“Ah?”  

“Hahaha! Just wait. I might be the first, but there will be others lining up to visit you, the famous Tang tanhua!”  

Sure enough, that same afternoon, when Tang Shen returned home, a servant was waiting outside his residence.  

The servant quickly ran over, delivering an invitation. “Is it Tang Shen, Tang daren? My master invites you to his residence for a discussion.”  

Tang Shen opened the invitation and froze.  

It was personally written by Yuan Mu, the Minister of Works!  

Not every family with a marriageable daughter was desperate to secure a match, but there were so many families with daughters of age. Unbeknownst to Tang Shen, he had long been regarded as the most desirable groom in Shengjing. Though he came from humble beginnings, he had risen to a fourth-ranked official position at a young age, was favored by the emperor, and possessed handsome features. Marrying him meant no suffering from in-laws and securing an ideal husband—a perfect outcome for any family.  

With the Song-Liao peace marriage as a catalyst, families that had been hesitant now scrambled to act.  

Overwhelmed, Tang Shen packed his belongings the next day and moved to the Minister Residence.  

Wang Zhen asked, “Why has little Junior Brother come?” He glanced at the bags and laughed, “Are all these gifts for me?”  

Tang Shen replied, “Ahem, these are my belongings. Senior Brother, I plan to stay here for a few days and might trouble you.”  

“Why so suddenly?”  

“Senior Brother, I missed you,” Tang Shen said earnestly.  

Wang Zhen chuckled, “How many invitations have you received?”  

Tang Shen’s eyes widened. “You knew?”  

Wang Zhen said, “Yuan Mu and I are merely colleagues, but I’ve heard he dotes on his granddaughter, who is of marriageable age. Our relationship cannot be called close and after the Youzhou incident, Yuan Mu rarely contacted me privately, but he sought me out yesterday to act as a matchmaker for you and his granddaughter.”  

Tang Shen was horrified. “Senior Brother, you wouldn’t actually matchmake for me, would you? Am I escaping one trap only to fall into another?”  

Wang Zhen smiled. “Yuan Mu’s granddaughter is a renowned talent, even more outstanding than the young lady from Prince Jing’s household.”  

Tang Shen gulped.  

“The youngest daughter of the Right Vice Minister of Rites also pales in comparison to Yuan Mu’s granddaughter.”  

Tang Shen’s fingers trembled.  

“Even the Duke of Dingguo’s daughter, while beautiful, cannot match Yuan Mu’s beloved granddaughter in both appearance and talent.”  

Tang Shen exclaimed, “Senior Brother, you know everything!”  

Wang Zhen smiled brightly, feigning indifference. “If you must choose, Yuan Mu’s granddaughter is an excellent match. What do you think, little Junior Brother?”  

Tang Shen sighed. “I don’t want to marry.”  

“En?”  

“Senior Brother, please don’t tease me. I’m only nineteen. Isn’t this too young for marriage? While many marry at my age, I’ve yet to establish my career. How can I indulge in matters of the heart? Besides, you aren’t married yet. Surely you understand me?” 

After a moment, Tang Shen still didn’t receive a response from Wang Zhen. He looked at him curiously, only to see him lowering his clear eyes, gazing at him serenely. He softly said, “How do you expect me to understand you?”

Tang Shen felt a lump in his throat.  

With a sigh, Wang Zhen set aside the brush he had been using for painting and asked Tang Shen, “Why don’t you want to get married?”  

Tang Shen answered earnestly, “I’m still too young.”  

Wang Zhen raised an eyebrow. “The real reason.”  

Tang Shen thought to himself, that is the real reason, but you just won’t believe me! Wang Zifeng, even you can get it wrong sometimes. 

As someone from the modern era, and a lifelong bachelor at that—single for over twenty years as a doctoral student—Tang Shen truly didn’t want to get married at nineteen. To him, nineteen was barely the beginning of university, still a kid’s age, nowhere near the right time for marriage! He planned to be like Wang Zhen, or at least Su Wenyun, and wait until at least twenty-five before even considering marriage.  

Although this was his inner truth, Tang Shen felt he needed to fabricate another excuse for Wang Zhen. But after racking his brain, he couldn’t come up with anything plausible. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he asked in return, “Then why hasn’t Senior Brother married yet?”  

“When did I ever say I wasn’t married?”  

Tang Shen was stunned. “What?”  

What the heck? Wang Zifeng is married?

Seeing Tang Shen’s wide-eyed shock, Wang Zhen smiled faintly. “Of course, I never said I was married, either.”  

Tang Shen: “…”  

If you weren’t Wang Zifeng, someone would’ve beaten you to death by now.  

Wang Zhen said calmly, “I just haven’t met the right person yet.”  

At first, it seemed like a casual response. But after some thought, Tang Shen realized Wang Zhen might actually be telling the truth.  

In the Song Dynasty, filial piety was paramount, and the greatest unfilial act was to leave no descendants. Yet someone like Wang Zhen, who had achieved such high rank, could only be pressured by his family or the emperor about marriage. 

If Emperor Zhao Fu didn’t care about Wang Zhen’s marital status, then clearly, with his influence within the Langya Wang clan, his family wouldn’t meddle either. So perhaps it was possible that Wang Zhen truly hadn’t met the person who could capture his heart, which was why he remained unmarried.  

Wang Zifeng hadn’t settled down because he couldn’t find someone he wanted to hold hands with for life.  

Tang Shen thought: But in this world, who could possibly be worthy of growing old with Wang Zifeng? 

For a moment, he couldn’t imagine what kind of extraordinary woman could qualify for Wang Zhen’s favor.  

Tang Shen spoke from the heart: “I understand now.” He believed he had discovered why Wang Zhen was still single.  

Wang Zhen said, “You don’t understand.”  

Tang Shen shook his head. “No, Senior Brother, I do.” You’re not married because no one is worthy of you. 

Wang Zhen stared at Tang Shen for a long moment before smiling without rebuttal.  

The topic was dropped.  

Wang Zhen asked, “How do you plan to deal with those people?”  

Tang Shen sighed. “I really don’t know. Senior Brother, you must understand—those who send invitations or visit me in person are either royalty or high-ranking officials above me. I can’t afford to offend any of them. That’s why I’ve resorted to hiding here.”  

“You don’t want to entertain them further?”  

Tang Shen answered firmly, “Not at all.”  

With a snap, Wang Zhen unfolded his white fan and said, “Then let’s leave it at that.”  

The next day, to Tang Shen’s surprise, no one came to propose a marriage alliance with him.  

Hiding at the Minister Residence seemed effective, as no matchmakers dared visit him there. Even at Qinzheng Hall, where he worked, the officials who had previously tried to persuade him disappeared without a word. No one tried to persuade him any longer.

Astonished, Tang Shen observed the situation carefully and arrived at a conclusion—

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

“My senior brother truly hides his strength well!”  

Wang Zifeng was even more formidable than he had imagined.  

Tang Shen didn’t concern himself with most other matchmaking attempts. However, he shared a good relationship with Zhao Qiong, Heir of Prince Jing, and they had cooperated successfully on the soap business. After returning to the Minister Residence one evening, Tang Shen carefully considered the matter and devised a solution with Wang Zhen. That same night, he wrote a letter and discreetly sent it to Prince Jing’s residence.

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In-Progress, Top Dupe

Top Dupe CH 092 Between You And Me, There’s No Final Chapter Part 1

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“I don’t know what to say,” Luo Yu muttered, holding his phone and logging onto Weibo, only to see his private messages flooded. His follower count was nearing eight million.

Gu Xiaowei, sitting behind him, had also taken out his phone and seemed to be scrolling through Weibo. Luo Yu leaned back with a laugh, accidentally landing in Gu Xiaowei’s embrace.

Just as he was about to sit up, Gu Xiaowei casually placed a hand on him, signaling permission for Luo Yu to stay where he was.

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

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to get too immersed in Yan Ye’s emotions, Teacher Gu? So, what are you scrolling through on the internet right now?” Luo Yu half-joked.

“Your Weibo,” Gu Xiaowei replied.

“My Weibo? Why?”

“Once you post your farewell message, as your co-star, I need to repost it.”

Luo Yu pulled away from his embrace, turned to look at him with a smile, and said, “Teacher Gu, who would’ve thought you’d take this Weibo business so seriously? I’m touched!”

After some thought, Luo Yu typed into his phone: [Yan Ye, I will wait for you to break through the heavens for me and see what color lies beyond. As long as you keep walking toward the light, I won’t consider it a loss.]

“I thought you’d write something about bidding farewell to Bai Ying and wishing ‘Counterattack’ good ratings,” Gu Xiaowei said, looking at him.

“Bai Ying is so popular, and now that he’s left, it might lead some viewers to quit the show. I’m trying to shift the audience’s expectations onto Yan Ye, hoping they’ll root for his journey ahead through Bai Ying’s perspective.”

After a moment, Luo Yu added, “Actually, I don’t want to say goodbye to Bai Ying at all. Just like the audience, I hope Yan Ye and Bai Ying win in the end.”

“Alright.” Gu Xiaowei nodded.

Ai, Luo Yu thought, Teacher Gu is always so succinct—impossible to tell what he’s really thinking.

Two minutes later, Luo Yu saw that Gu Xiaowei had already reposted his Weibo post, captioning it with: [Between you and me, there’s no final chapter.]

Fans immediately went wild. The once tear-filled comment sections had a sudden shift in tone.

[Brother Gu! By ‘you and me,’ do you mean Yan Ye and Bai Ying, or you and Senior Brother?]

[Aahhh! Brother Gu is stamping it! Yan Ye and Bai Ying will always be together!]

[Yan Ye and Bai Ying forever!]

[Not even death can separate Yan Ye and Bai Ying!]

In no time, #NoFinalChapter was trending, the surge in popularity like a rocket.

Less than five minutes later, Li Qian called.

“Teacher Gu, you live close to Luo Yu, right? Has he gone to bed?”

Gu Xiaowei glanced at Luo Yu, who was sprawled casually on a chair, scrolling through his phone.

“He’s in my room, not asleep yet.”

Li Qian was about to say something when Gu Xiaowei called to Luo Yu, “Are we sleeping together again tonight?”

Li Qian almost choked. Thank goodness this is a phone call, not a live broadcast. The fans would go insane.

Luo Yu, still scrolling through Weibo, replied absentmindedly, “Sure…”

Wait, what?

He looked up, realizing Gu Xiaowei had just invited him to sleep together. With all the outdoor scenes tomorrow, I need my energy. How am I supposed to sleep with a racing heart?

But Gu Xiaowei seemed completely unaware of Luo Yu’s conflicted thoughts, focused on his phone call with Li Qian.

“Mr. Li, what’s up?”

“Both the television and online platforms are a bit concerned that Bai Ying’s exit might lead to audience drop-off. Could you two possibly record a joint video to soothe viewers and hype the upcoming plot?”

“Sure, understood.”

Gu Xiaowei’s quick agreement actually threw Li Qian off—wasn’t he usually against promotional stunts?

After the call, Gu Xiaowei relayed Li Qian’s request to Luo Yu.

Of course, the two prepared to record the video together.

Luo Yu turned on all the lights, set up a phone stand, and asked, “I just removed my makeup—do I need to put it back on?”

“I took mine off too. Right now, Xiao Ye and Ah Yan are still deep in the emotions from Bai Ying’s exit. If we ask them to do our makeup…”

“Xiao Ye might end up getting his tears on my face.”

They exchanged a smile, then sat side by side on the sofa, recorded a video, and sent it to Li Qian.

To their surprise, Li Qian called back almost immediately.

“Aren’t you two close enough to sleep together? Why are you sitting so far apart in a promo video? Are you promoting ‘Counterattack’ or ‘Distant Shores’? You’re the number one duo responsible for a top-rated show!”

“Got it,” Gu Xiaowei said concisely.

He came over to Luo Yu’s side, sitting on the arm of the sofa and placing one arm over his shoulder. “Let’s do it again, a bit closer.”

So you do know we need to look close? Luo Yu thought. Why act all distant in the first place then?

“Hello, everyone. I’m Luo Yu, playing Bai Ying in ‘Counterattack’, here with the Teacher Gu who is not good at promo stuff to greet all the fans who love the show!” Luo Yu finished and looked at Gu Xiaowei.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Gu Xiaowei, playing Yan Ye in ‘Counterattack’.”

Silence. Luo Yu waited a couple of seconds, then covered his eyes in exasperation before looking back at the camera.

“Just now, our Teacher Gu insisted on not saying goodbye to Bai Ying. Bai Ying will always be by Yan Ye’s side, present in his spirit and courage. Together, they’ll tear down the villainous forces and bring every antagonist to justice!”

Finishing, Luo Yu elbowed Gu Xiaowei, giving him a series of nudges.

Gu Xiaowei, arm still on Luo Yu’s shoulder, gave him a gentle nudge, encouraging him to lean back.

“Please continue to support ‘Counterattack’. In the upcoming episodes, Yan Ye will carry Bai Ying’s promise and hopes, emerging from the darkness. You don’t need to rush to say goodbye to Bai Ying, because Bai Ying is Yan Ye, and Yan Ye is Bai Ying.”

Luo Yu nodded eagerly and turned to Gu Xiaowei. “Yes, as long as you move forward, it’s not a loss for me!”

Gu Xiaowei looked back at him with a warm smile. “Between you and me, there’s no final chapter.”

That was the same line Gu Xiaowei had posted on Weibo.

Hearing it in person was completely different. His voice was slightly hushed, resonating in the air, and his gaze—Luo Yu was momentarily dazed.

In all of Gu Xiaowei’s roles, he had never looked at anyone with such softness.

You’re looking at me, right?

Yan Ye wouldn’t be this gentle with Bai Ying.

Li Qian quickly edited the video and uploaded it to ‘Counterattack’’s official page.

Fans were still distressed over Bai Ying’s departure when this video aired, serving as a powerful comfort and sparking a new wave of excitement.

[Did you see Brother Gu’s arm over Luo Yu’s shoulder? Poor Cheng Fei would cry like a baby!]

[Whoa, where did they film this? Feels like it’s their post-wedding—oops, I mean, Yan Ye and Bai Ying’s retirement life!]

[Did you see Senior Brother giving Brother Gu those eye signals? Since when did Brother Gu become so willing to do PR? Senior Brother is the best!]

[Am I the only one who noticed Teacher Gu pulling Senior Brother closer? Who else gets this privilege!]

[I love how Teacher Gu said ‘Between you and me, there’s no final chapter’ with such a gentle gaze!]

Thanks to Gu Xiaowei and Luo Yu’s interactions, viewers’ spirits lifted considerably.

Meanwhile, Luo Yu was still scrolling through Weibo, when Gu Xiaowei tugged at his collar.

“Go wash up. Tomorrow’s scenes are going to be physically demanding.”

“Actually, outdoor scenes are easier for me,” Luo Yu said, looking up. “Acting with you is what keeps me on edge.”

Gu Xiaowei pressed down on his head. “Then play around while you can. I’m going to wash up.”

Luo Yu rubbed his head, muttering, “Classmate Gu, can we clarify something? I’m your senior brother; you should show me proper respect. Stop patting my head all the time! A guy’s head is like a woman’s waist…”

“Oh, then I’ll make it a daily habit,” Gu Xiaowei’s voice echoed from the bathroom.

A few seconds later, Luo Yu pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a helpless smile.

He was secretly delighted that Gu Xiaowei had picked up on his humor, but also felt a pang of sadness due to Gu Xiaowei’s open embrace and friendliness—what if this guy really only saw him as a close friend? After all, in both high school and college, the jokes his buddies made with him were even more colorful than this!

This must be what they call “shyness in the presence of a beloved.”

He wanted a clear answer, but Gu Xiaowei was too important to him, and he worried that if he wasn’t careful, it would be over the moment he voiced his feelings.

He’d need to add more fuel to the fire.

But with Gu Xiaowei, he might need a real fire to get through to him, right?

Luo Yu pointed a finger toward the bathroom, as if to say: “Go ahead, hide in your steel fortress. Let’s see if I don’t burn you out of there.”

After they both finished getting ready for bed, they lay shoulder to shoulder, and to Luo Yu’s surprise, Gu Xiaowei was seriously holding the script and running through lines with him.

“Let’s just sleep already. Tomorrow’s scene hardly has any lines; I can recite them backward!”

“Well, try it then. I’d like to hear how the lines sound in reverse…”

The next second, Luo Yu tossed the script at Gu Xiaowei’s face, pulled up the duvet, curled up his legs, and turned away, assuming a sleeping position.

Half a minute later, Gu Xiaowei’s bedside lamp was still on. Luo Yu turned his head to see what he was doing, only to find Gu Xiaowei propping up his head and looking at him, with the script still in his other hand.

“Turn off the light.” Luo Yu reminded himself not to look back, hurriedly turning his head. Even though Gu Xiaowei had buttoned his pajamas to the top, a bit of collarbone was still visible as he lay on his side, and the gentle curve of his neck added a soft touch, while the line from his jaw to his Adam’s apple carried an alluring masculine charm.

If he didn’t look, he wouldn’t get hooked and would be able to keep his cool.

But then Gu Xiaowei leaned over, placing the script on the bedside table on Luo Yu’s side, effectively cornering Luo Yu between his chest and the table.

“You’re the first person to throw a script at me.”

The next second, Luo Yu suddenly reached out and ruffled Gu Xiaowei’s hair, then quickly ducked under the duvet, leaving only a few strands of hair visible.

“I’m also the first to mess with your hair!”

You’ve got your steel armor, but I’ve got my cotton blanket.

Gu Xiaowei’s hand, which had been about to retract after putting down the script, instead gripped the edge of the bedside table, his knuckles whitening from the force.

He slowly leaned closer, pressing lightly against Luo Yu through the blanket, his gaze deep and intense.

After a few seconds, his expression softened, a faint smile forming on his lips as he whispered, “Come out. Don’t suffocate yourself in there.”

It wasn’t until he was sure that Gu Xiaowei had retreated back to his side of the bed that Luo Yu turned around and poked his head out of the duvet.

Oh, heavens. The duvet was filled with Gu Xiaowei’s scent… it was almost too much for him to bear.

But it also made him feel incredibly safe.

The next day, they got up early because the movie had now transitioned from the build-up between Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi to the high-energy part of the story.

The shooting location moved from the villa area to the mountains behind it.

The production team had coordinated with the relevant departments to construct the set in a way that protected the environment.

In the woods, where light and shadows intermingled, they’d set up a hunting cabin, enhancing the movie’s atmosphere.

Since the production van couldn’t reach the site, the crew had to carry the equipment in by foot, setting up several tents about 20-30 meters from the cabin for storing equipment and temporary rest.

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

In this scene, Wen Yuchi had been called back to the police station for overtime work. On his way, he smelled a faint fragrance and began to feel drowsy. Immediately alert, he tried to jump out of the car, but the doors were locked. He only had a chance to knock on the window and then lost consciousness.

When he woke up again, he found himself brought to a small hunting cabin.

This marked the beginning of the thrilling hunt scene.

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His Majesty And Ministers

His Majesty And Ministers CH 74 The End

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As the wine was served, Jing Ye took a sip and leaned in, pinching the young man’s chin closer to him. 

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows on long eyelashes that resembled half-closed phoenix eyes, stirring the heart. 

Le Zhenghuan gazed in a daze, his face unexpectedly flushing red; he had never seen the emperor like this.

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

The rich scent of wine filled the air as their soft lips met. 

The young man, feeling restless, accidentally knocked over the wine cup, wrapping his arms around Jing Ye’s waist as their lips and teeth intertwined, oblivious to the sleepiness that was creeping up on him. 

By the time he realized it, it was already too late. Le Zhenghuan stared wide-eyed, showing his anger: “You…” 

Jing Ye waved his hand over his eyes, and Le Zhenghuan leaned against him, dozing off on his shoulder. 

When he awakened again, it would likely be on the road from the capital to Pingyue. His loyal subordinates would guard him closely, and without his martial skills, the young city lord Le would be left with no choice but to comply. 

Jing Ye helped Le Zhenghuan onto the bed to sleep. Still holding onto his waistband, he murmured with faint traces of wine on his breath, “No, no… don’t…” 

Jing Ye held his hand and covered him with a thin blanket. A palace attendant quietly entered, and Jing Ye instructed, “Extinguish two candles.” He took one last glance at the sleeping youth before leaving. 

Night had fallen. As the imperial sedan passed the library, Jing Ye lifted his hand. Ye Mao nodded in understanding and shouted, “Stop the sedan!” 

Jing Ye got out of the sedan, crossed over the main entrance, and walked along the corridor in front of the library, where many green bamboos were planted, casting dappled shadows in the night. 

The door ahead creaked open, and an old inner court eunuch, carrying a lantern with a cloth cover, appeared, narrowing his eyes at the dark crowd and falling to his knees, exclaiming, “Your Majesty! Paying respects to Your Majesty!” 

Jing Ye asked with curiosity, “What are you doing here at this hour?” 

The old eunuch, who had spent many years in the library, was evidently nervous. He explained, “Lord Feng said that many books in the library are not organized according to regulations, so he stayed overnight in the palace to sort them. This old servant has been here to assist.” 

Jing Ye glanced at the dim candlelight inside and said, “You’ve done well. Ye Mao, send some rewards to his residence.” 

The old eunuch quickly bowed in gratitude, saying, “Thanking Your Majesty’s grace,” before leaving with the palace attendants. 

As Jing Ye turned back, he saw Feng Ling standing under the eaves. 

A few raindrops fell on the bamboo leaves, and Jing Ye’s brow furrowed slightly. Ye Mao quickly said, “Your Majesty, it’s raining; we should go inside.” 

Jing Ye nodded and stepped up the porch steps. Feng Ling bowed and began to speak, “This subject…” 

Jing Ye interrupted, “Will qing remain this respectful in front of zhen forever?” 

Feng Ling paused for a moment and replied, “Etiquette cannot be neglected.” 

Jing Ye chuckled lightly, shaking his head and saying, “Oh, you…” and then walked into the room. 

The spring rain fell gently, pattering against the bamboo leaves, shimmering softly in the moonlight. 

Sensing the coolness in the air, Jing Ye remarked, “After this rain, the weather should warm up. The soldiers heading north can also pace themselves a bit more.” 

Feng Ling responded, “As winter transitions to spring, Your Majesty’s health isn’t great; you must take care of yourself.” 

Jing Ye turned to look at him, smiling, “Are you not going to argue with zhen?” 

Feng Ling blushed slightly and said, “This subject…” 

But Jing Ye suddenly commented, “Although this library is secluded, it hasn’t been maintained in a long time. Lord Feng, don’t you want to change your residence?” 

Feng Ling was taken aback. Jing Ye continued, “You’re on duty every night, taking others’ shifts. It’s unfair to you. If this gets out, it will inevitably make people say zhen is blind to what happens under zhen, unable to govern.” 

For a moment, both remained silent as the sounds of rain outside began to lessen. 

Jing Ye stood up and declared, “The rain has stopped. Zhen is going back to my palace.” 

Feng Ling looked at him and stood to bow respectfully, saying, “This subject wishes you a safe return, Your Majesty.” 

Surrounded by rows of books, the flickering candlelight cast an unusual glow. As Jing Ye stepped over the threshold, he glanced back and felt as if the scene had solidified into an ancient ink painting, timeless and unchanging. 

Dispatches from the northern border began to arrive one after another. General Li had won another battle. The Wuhuan King had been on the verge of death but somehow was saved. Accompanied by Li Tingqiu’s handwritten note, stating that both this subject and Consort Xiang are safe, urging the emperor to take care of himself. 

The Wuhuan King learned a harsh lesson and became more cautious with his strategies. The Xirong were pinned down by troops from both sides and retreated to the farthest desert in the west. Even if the Wuhuan did not pursue them, recovery would take decades. 

Meanwhile, in the capital, the flowers had begun to bloom, heralding the arrival of spring. 

Ye Mao held the dispatches as he timidly entered the study. 

Jing Ye looked up, took the letter, and while opening it, asked, “Ye Mao, how many letters is this?” 

Ye Mao bent slightly and replied, “Reporting to Your Majesty, this is the sixth letter.” 

Jing Ye mused, “The sixth letter… they should be returning any time now.” 

As he unfolded the thin letter, he read a few brief sentences and immediately spotted the word “return.” 

Twenty days later, the army returned to the capital. 

For Jing Yun, this day was significant. 

He woke up early, with the palace maid dressing him in layer after layer of clothing, fastening jade pendants and putting on a longevity lock. They proceeded to the main hall, where the emperor, adorned in a black-and-red dragon robe, picked him up. 

Jing Yun wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck and asked, “Uncle, where are we going?” 

Jing Ye lifted him up, chuckling, “Your uncle is taking you to see something.” 

Jing Yun anxiously nibbled on his fingers, somewhat bewildered as he was carried to the carriage. Surrounded by a grand procession, they left the palace. 

They arrived at the north city gate, where Jing Ye held his hand and led him up the steps to the city wall, revealing countless soldiers in formation, stretching as far as the eye could see. 

The inner court eunuch flicked his whisk and called out loudly, “Kneel—” 

The sound of clashing armor echoed, as tens of thousands of soldiers knelt on one knee. 

“Rise—” 

Jing Yun, confused, didn’t understand what it meant. Seeing his uncle silent and solemn, without a smile, he also wore a small frown, staring at the soldiers below. 

At that moment, two figures approached. Jing Yun blinked; the first person was extraordinarily handsome, and the second—Jing Yun recognized—was the long-time absent “Consort Xiang.” 

Jing Ye bent down, holding his small chubby hand gently, and said, “Yun’er, follow zhen.” 

Li Tingqiu drew closer, kneeling and presenting his sword with both hands. 

Jing Ye held Jing Yun’s hand, placing it on the cold blade of the sword. 

Jing Yun flinched but did not pull away, hearing his uncle’s low, soft voice in his ear. 

“From today on, you will be the crown prince of this nation.” 

The sky was high and the clouds were vast, and wild geese were flying northward. 

In Xiaoyi Pavilion, Jing Le ran into the room with a wooden sword on his back and stood at attention: “Teacher, I’ve completed today’s morning lesson.” 

Lin Hangyu glanced at him; the young boy still had a sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

He reached out, resting his fingertip on the long sword on the table, and said, “This is the first sword forged for me by my sect when I was ten.” 

Jing Le’s eyes widened, his face lighting up with excitement: “Teacher…” 

Outside Pingyue City, Le Zhenghuan patted his fine steed, keenly listening to the wind, frowning, “Tch, they’re on our tail again.” 

With that, he tightened the reins, and the horse let out a neigh, galloping southward. 

At the Gu family residence in the capital, the old prime minister, usually stable and drowsy, angrily flicked his beard and roared, “You must marry! Whether you want to or not, you have to!” 

Gu Mei retorted, “Why don’t you force Fourth Brother to marry instead?” 

Gu Hong, holding a teacup, paused and raised an eyebrow: “If you wish to marry into the palace, I can arrange it for you.” 

“I…” Gu Mei, outraged, exclaimed, “I simply won’t marry!” and stormed out. 

Inside the palace, Lin Xiaosheng held a tender little hand and wrote the character “Lin.” 

Lin Xiao Dun was restless in his arms, reaching for the crystal mirror in front of him, only to be caught by Lin Xiaosheng. 

Lu Baizang, fanning himself with a gilded folding fan, sighed and said, “I never thought I, Lu, would become a settled man one day…” 

Zhao Yue, sitting on the soft couch beside him, just got up only to be pressed back down by Villa Master Lu with a smile. 

The bustling streets of the capital thrived day after day. In a teahouse, a storyteller with glazed eyes paused at his tea cup and declared, “That’s it.” 

The audience called, “Is that the end?” 

“What about whether the general is alive or dead?” 

“What about the Zhang family’s daughter? Did she marry into the Li family?” 

“No way! That’s not possible! Keep telling the story!” 

“Not at all, not at all.” The storyteller stroked his goatee, shaking his head. “The father talks about his son, the son talks about his grandson. Generations upon generations, endless and unbroken. An old man like me can’t distinguish between two families’ matters, and the day is getting late, so everyone, please enjoy tea and return to your own homes—it’s the sensible thing to do.” 

Before he finished, someone angrily slammed the table, “What a shabby ending, quit the trickery!” 

“I’ve never seen such shamelessness!” 

“Arrest this man! Don’t let him go until he tells the full story!” 

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

Seeing the crowd becoming increasingly agitated, the storyteller dashed into the back room, escaping through the rear exit, muttering “So sinful, so sinful.” 

Birds chirped among the green branches, and the peonies bloomed brilliantly. 

In this era of peace and prosperity, nothing could be better. 

The end.

TN: After some starts and stops, this little webnovel is finally finished! And just in time for Christmas, too, coincidentally. Though it is short and imperfect with a lot of loose ends, it will always hold a special place in this translator’s heart so here’s hoping you all will enjoy this short but sweet read with its completion! 😊🎄🎁

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