The east wind blew clouds into mist. In the middle of the night, damp moisture and the soft rustle of fine rain seeped through the heavy curtains and embroidered drapes, briefly waking Yugong Zhaoye.
His senses were sharp. Though he was still immersed in warm drowsiness, he needed only open one eye and see darkness all around to know it was still early. He had just closed his eyes again, intending to continue sleeping, when Wei Fu’s steady, gentle breathing beside him suddenly paused.
People who drank disliked the cold. Wei Fu turned over with his eyes still shut, fumbled for the blanket he had pushed loose in his sleep, and pulled it up to wrap both himself and Yugong Zhaoye tightly inside. Then he stretched out an arm and gathered Yugong Zhaoye completely against him like a pillow. Still half asleep yet deeply satisfied, he rubbed against him contentedly, found him wonderfully warm, and quickly fell asleep again.
Yugong Zhaoye was not cold. Aside from the time he had gone blind several years earlier, he had never shared a bed with anyone since. Yet the broad warmth of another person against him seemed to possess a strange power that smoothed away all discomfort. He did not even think forget it—every rule of etiquette and propriety simply gave way before the drowsiness induced by the sound of rain.
The next morning, the drizzle had become a steady spring rain. Water dripped rhythmically from the eaves outside. The sky remained gloomy, making the bed curtains still dimmer, like a tightly sealed cocoon wrapping the two of them inside this warm, quiet corner.
Whenever he was not carrying out a mission, Yugong Zhaoye’s habits were extremely regular. Even without morning light outside, he woke naturally at the usual hour.
Wei Fu’s chest rose and fell evenly. His breathing stirred Yugong Zhaoye’s hair. One arm rested behind Yugong Zhaoye’s back while his shoulders curved inward slightly, forming an extraordinarily protective posture, as though he wanted to hide Yugong Zhaoye forever inside his embrace.
Wei Fu slept honestly and quietly. As long as he did not have nightmares, he never disturbed anyone. Even with Yugong Zhaoye’s sensitive hearing and senses, sleeping beside him did not result in sleeplessness from noise. It was only this habit of embracing people that was somewhat inappropriate. Close friends could sleep foot-to-foot, but holding one another neck-to-neck was rather too intimate.
To avoid the two of them waking only to stare awkwardly at each other, Yugong Zhaoye carefully shifted Wei Fu’s arm aside and slipped free from his embrace, preparing to escape first. But the instant he sat up, that unruly hand reached over again, wrapped around his waist, and dragged him back beneath the covers. Wei Fu leaned over lazily, pinning half his body down.
“No running. Sleep with me.”
Yugong Zhaoye: “…”
His words were so soft they were almost murmurs, low and hoarse, like lazy mumbling from deep in his throat.
“No more sleeping. You should get up.” Yugong Zhaoye pinched his chin and shook it lightly. “Let go. Stop clinging.”
“No.” Wei Fu kept his eyes half closed and obediently allowed himself to be toyed with, even rubbing his cheek against Yugong Zhaoye’s hand. “Today’s a rest day. We don’t have to get up early. It’s raining outside too—perfect weather for sleeping. Sleep a little longer, Your Highness.”
“If you want to be lazy, don’t drag me into it.” Yugong Zhaoye tugged one strand of his hair. “When the servants come in and see this, do you still want your spotless reputation?”
That successfully made Wei Fu open his eyes. He looked Yugong Zhaoye up and down in surprise and asked with sincere confusion, “Only my reputation?”
Yugong Zhaoye stared at him silently for a moment before turning away and sighing without a sound.
Wei Fu laughed quietly. Looking at him with a gaze full of intimacy and tenderness, he declared with exaggerated emphasis, “Neither of us is innocent anymore, Your Highness.”
Yugong Zhaoye had no idea what there was to be so pleased about. Nor did he understand why, despite possessing ten thousand ways to break free—even throwing this sticky rice cake straight off the bed over his shoulder if he wished—he still remained trapped among the soft bedding and pillows, breathing in the ever-present gentian fragrance.
For him, moments of idleness in which he thought of nothing and simply rested peacefully were exceedingly rare. It reminded him somewhat of those years stranded deep in the mountains, when even the greatest matters in the world had to wait and there was nothing to do but listen to wind and birdsong through the long days.
But back then, he had been trapped by circumstance. Now he could come and go freely. The only thing capable of binding him in place was his own heart.
Yugong Zhaoye would never indulge himself, yet he had always indulged Wei Fu. Now Wei Fu had pulled up this blanket named “indulgence” and wrapped the two of them inside it without leaving even the smallest gap.
“How long do you plan on lazing around?”
At such close distance, even without direct contact, their gazes fell across one another’s brows and eyes like kisses.
Yugong Zhaoye deliberately lowered his eyes to avoid meeting Wei Fu’s gaze, while Wei Fu looked at him openly and without restraint.
This was a sharpened deadly weapon. Precisely because it was incomparably sharp, it possessed a beauty difficult to describe. When it sheathed its edge and rested quietly inside one’s embrace, it stirred the secret delight of possessing a rare treasure.
Wei Fu’s fingers twitched faintly with an itch. He did not know whether it came from loose strands of hair brushing the back of his hand, or from the lean, supple waist beneath his palm tempting him to stroke it.
Before reuniting, he had wanted only to meet again. Once they met, he wanted companionship. Once they had companionship, he wanted permanence. People should not be greedy—but if the object of his greed was Yugong Zhaoye, then somehow greed itself seemed perfectly reasonable. Wasn’t Yugong Zhaoye’s indulgence already a silent accomplice? If a wild beast refused to bite someone, wasn’t that practically the same thing as liking them?
Using flawless logic, Wei Fu successfully convinced himself and declared with perfect righteousness:
“Until you promise to come keep me company every day next month.”
Yugong Zhaoye raised a brow, the corner of his eye tilting upward. Normally that expression signaled murderous intent, but on a bed it felt more like a harmless slap. “Based on what?”
“Because you didn’t come this month,” Wei Fu said. “Shouldn’t you compensate me?”
Yugong Zhaoye: “Who decided I was supposed to accompany you this month?”
Wei Fu replied confidently, “Originally it depended on self-awareness. But Your Highness lacks self-awareness, so naturally I have to supervise you myself.”
Utter nonsense.
Yugong Zhaoye could not even be bothered to argue, because if he continued asking why he had to accompany Wei Fu, Wei Fu would inevitably start whining things like Does Your Highness not like me anymore? or Now that you’ve tricked me into your hands, you cast me aside like a worn shoe, then eventually Beauty has not yet faded, yet favor has already ended—perhaps I should just jump into the sea, escalating into crying, causing a scene, and threatening suicide until Bihan City itself flooded and Wei Fu single-handedly raised the water level of the Qionghai Sea, turning Longsha into an underwater dragon palace.
Yet Yugong Zhaoye had absolutely no way to deal with this peerless crybaby. In the end, he could only poke him sternly despite having no real confidence. “One day you’ll end up thrown into prison for extortion.”
Wei Fu immediately continued extorting him. “Then Your Highness will definitely break me out when the time comes, right?”
His Highness gave up discussing whether it should happen. Having accepted reality, he began scraping dignity from whatever obscure corner he could find. “Today is the thirtieth. Judging from how stubbornly you’re staying in bed, I don’t think we even need to wait until next month. You already owe me a day’s wages starting today.”
Wei Fu mischievously wound a strand of Yugong Zhaoye’s hair around his fingers behind his back. “Fine. I’ll provide room and board. What does Your Highness want for breakfast?”
The moment he lifted his hand, Yugong Zhaoye—whose nose had only just adjusted to the scent inside the bed curtains—caught another drift of gentian fragrance, perhaps from Wei Fu’s sleeve.
“Anything is fine. Do you eat gentian with every meal or something? Has no one told you that you’ve practically been marinated in the smell?”
“It isn’t that bad.” Wei Fu lowered his head and leaned toward Yugong Zhaoye’s neck for a sniff. “Your Highness doesn’t seem to smell like anything in particular.”
Yugong Zhaoye did not use incense. He often had to infiltrate places in secret, and carrying an obvious scent would practically make him a living target. But that was beside the point. The real problem was that no normal man could withstand this sort of behavior first thing in the morning. The sudden warmth of Wei Fu’s breath startled him, a wave of tingling numbness spreading from his collarbone all the way down his back. He hurriedly planted a hand against Wei Fu’s chest and shoved him away.
“Stop fooling around! Are you a dog or something? Why are you pouncing on people?”
His casual push happened to catch Wei Fu’s collar, tugging the loosely fastened neckline open and exposing a long scar across his neck.
The scar had faded considerably and was clearly an old wound. Under ordinary circumstances, no one would have noticed it without looking this closely. But its location was dangerously close to the artery along the side of his neck.
Yugong Zhaoye immediately stopped pushing and reached up to pull the collar farther aside.
The lazy softness born from warm blankets and comfortable embraces vanished entirely.
The beast opened its eyes.
“How did this happen?”
Wei Fu glanced down carelessly and replied without concern, “This? Just an old scar I accidentally got years ago.”
Yugong Zhaoye: “Did you fall onto a dagger?”
Wei Fu laughed. Tilting his head back, he openly exposed the most vulnerable part of himself—his once-injured throat—to Yugong Zhaoye’s eyes and even pulled Yugong Zhaoye’s hand over as though inviting him to touch freely. “It was only a cut. It healed ages ago.”
If it had been only a minor wound, how could it have caused more than ten years of muteness?
There was nothing physically wrong with Wei Fu’s voice now. His muteness most likely stemmed from severe childhood injury and fear. Yugong Zhaoye was not arrogant enough to believe Wei Fu had to disclose every secret buried in his heart to him, but considering Wei Fu’s personality—someone capable of making waves even when there was no wind—if there were no special circumstances behind the matter, he would never have passed up such a perfect opportunity to act pitiful and seek comfort.
Yugong Zhaoye did not continue questioning him. Instead, he casually straightened Wei Fu’s collar again while thinking silently:
Once Kui Yue comes back, let’s see how long you can keep putting on that innocent act.
“Your Highness!”
Ying Yue hurried over from the front hall holding a letter, rare panic visible on his face. “This morning, the attendants found this in the courtyard while sweeping. Someone pinned it to the osmanthus tree with a dart. It bears A’Jue’s seal and her token.”
Yeguang’s tokens matched the organization’s name perfectly: each was a night-luminous pearl the size of a fingertip, engraved with the lunar phase corresponding to that Moon Envoy’s codename. Yugong Zhaoye accepted it and glanced at the pink paper. Only a few lines were written:
The person is in my hands. Her life is in yours. At the You hour, meet at Yinhe Tower, Moon-Inviting Pavilion. Regards. Peace.
The signature beneath was a wildly elegant single character:
Xie.
Elio’s Note: The You hour (酉时) corresponds roughly to 5–7 p.m.
“…Caught red-handed.” Yugong Zhaoye frowned faintly, puzzled. “How did this end up alarming him?”
The instant Ying Yue saw the surname Xie, he guessed the kidnapper’s identity. Remembering Beizhu Palace and Xie Youlan’s reputation, his heart pounded as he unconsciously lowered his voice. “Your Highness, this subordinate…”
“I’ll go meet him.” Yugong Zhaoye folded the letter and tucked it into his sleeve. “You’re coming with me. Don’t worry. Since he’s willing to negotiate, Kui Yue’s life is certainly safe for now. We’ll simply hear what conditions he wants.”
Ying Yue froze. “Your Highness intends to go personally?” Seeing Yugong Zhaoye raise a brow toward him, he hesitated before continuing. “Xie Youlan has clearly set a Hongmen Banquet. If anything happens to Your Highness, or if he uses you as leverage, then even if A’Jue and I died ten thousand deaths, we could never make amends. Please remain here in the hall. Allow this subordinate to meet him first and test his intentions.”
“And then what? Sit here waiting for news that you’ve both died together?” Yugong Zhaoye waved a hand, cutting off the suggestion immediately. “She is someone I sent out, carrying out private work for me. If something went wrong, naturally I’m the one who cleans it up. Besides, Xie Youlan is at least master of an entire sect. If I send only a subordinate to deal with him, do you think he’ll be pleased?”
Hearing this, Ying Yue finally relaxed, though at the same time he felt deeply ashamed. Letting out a quiet breath, he said solemnly, “Many thanks, Your Highness.”
By dusk, taverns throughout the streets had gradually lit their lanterns, while carriages from all over the city converged upon bustling Kaiyang Avenue. Yugong Zhaoye and Ying Yue arrived at Yinhe Tower on time in an ordinary carriage without insignias or decorations. To demonstrate sincerity, they brought no guards, arranging only several hidden observers nearby in case of danger.
An attendant guided the distinguished guests upstairs and along a long corridor carpeted with Xueluo felt rugs toward the south-facing private rooms.
When they reached the elegant room bearing the plaque “Moon-Inviting Pavilion,” the attendant knocked twice and announced loudly:
“The honored guests have arrived!”
With a swish, he slid open the paper door.
At exactly the same moment, another swish sounded behind Yugong Zhaoye. Across the corridor, guests from the neighboring Star-Plucking Pavilion stepped outside. The attendant immediately greeted them:
“Honored guests, take care on your way!”
Yugong Zhaoye first saw Xie Youlan holding a teacup and staring toward the corridor in obvious surprise. Only then did he slowly turn and find himself facing Wei Fu, who had just stepped out of the opposite doorway with stunned disbelief written across his face. Behind him stood Yuan Tianjing, his round belly protruding and his cheeks flushed from heavy drinking.
Their gazes met.
Everyone stared at everyone else.
Utter silence.
The attendant asked hesitantly, “Do the honored guests know one another?”
Yuan Tianjing, drunk and bleary-eyed, failed to recognize Yugong Zhaoye. Chuckling, he said, “Chancellor Wei, run into an acquaintance?”
Wei Fu ignored him completely and frowned toward Xie Youlan, who was seated calmly inside Moon-Inviting Pavilion. “Why are you here?”
Xie Youlan raised his cup toward Yugong Zhaoye in greeting and said coolly, “Several years since we last met, Your Highness. I trust you’ve been well?”
Yugong Zhaoye nodded faintly in acknowledgment, then turned to Ying Yue. “Escort Chancellor Wei and… this gentleman outside first.”
Completely bewildered after being dragged into this bizarre chain reaction, Ying Yue looked at Yuan Tianjing. “Th-then… please?”
Everyone: “…”
Wei Fu looked as though he were about to choke. Staring at Yugong Zhaoye, he still attempted one final desperate struggle.
Yugong Zhaoye defeated him with a single strike:
“Didn’t you promise me that for the rest of this month you’d only drink tea and no alcohol?”
Wei Fu: “…”
Inside the room, Xie Youlan—whose hearing was exceptionally sharp—gave a mocking laugh. “Pathetic.”
Yugong Zhaoye immediately shut the door with lightning speed, locking Wei Fu outside before he could charge in and bite someone.
Leaving the most troublesome problem to his subordinate, Yugong Zhaoye listened until the chaotic footsteps outside gradually receded. Then he sat opposite Xie Youlan and spoke bluntly.
“Thank you for the invitation. What conditions do you want? Name your price.”
Crash—
Wei Fu yanked the door open again and stuck his head inside.
“What price? Have you really sunk to kidnapping and extortion now?”
Yugong Zhaoye suddenly felt certain today’s business would not end peacefully. His temples began to throb as he thought that when it came to extortion, who in the entire world could possibly compete with Wei Fu?
Xie Youlan did not even twitch a brow. He calmly counterattacked, “Likewise. You’ve become quite skilled yourself. Collusion between officials and merchants seems to come naturally to you now.”
Yugong Zhaoye sighed.
Wei Fu narrowed suspicious eyes at the two of them, glancing back and forth like a wary animal. “What brings the Young Master of Beizhu Palace to Bihan City? What do you want with His Highness?”
Xie Youlan glanced sideways at him with composed disdain. “You really have spent all these years hiding at home and ignoring current affairs. I’m the Palace Master now.”
Wei Fu immediately produced a perfectly sincere smile of delight. “Congratulations. When and where did your honored father ascend the throne?”
Xie Youlan: “…”
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