"Carry me to bed?!" Wen Yu squeaked out loud, his voice cracking into an absurdly high-pitched treble as his brain forcibly rebooted from its catastrophic blue-screen crash.
He frantically pushed against Xie Yan’s broad chest, his limbs flailing like an overturned turtle as his face burned with a blush so intense it felt like a thermal heat lamp was pressed directly against his cheeks.
"T-this humble one has perfectly functional legs, General!" Wen Yu stammered, pitching his voice into his usual breathless, timid register while attempting to slide off the edge of the rosewood desk. "I would never dare trouble your noble arms after you have spent the entire evening suffering through complex financial logs!"
[ABSOLUTELY NOT!] Wen Yu’s internal voice screamed at maximum broadcast volume, sending a wave of chaotic, high-voltage static straight into Xie Yan’s head. [If he carries me princess-style through the courtyard at three in the morning, the estate servants will start writing exaggerated romance rumors by sunrise! My editor reputation cannot survive being bridal-carried like a delicate webnovel heroine! I am an independent, self-reliant modern professional!]
Xie Yan let out a low, chest-rumbling laugh, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked affection as he slowly released his hold on Wen Yu’s waist, allowing the flushed younger man to drop his feet onto the floorboards.
"Very well, my fierce little consort," Xie Yan murmured, rising to his full height and casually smoothing down his dark tunic. "You may walk on your own two feet tonight. But since you worked so diligently to uncover Marquis Vane’s corruption scheme, I believe you have earned a proper reward."
Wen Yu blinked, his wide, dark eyes filled with cautious suspicion as he adjusted his high-collared blue robes. "A... reward, General?"
[Please let it be a twelve-hour uninterrupted nap,] Wen Yu prayed fervently inside his head, his mental persona kneeling before a giant floating pillow. [Or perhaps a generous financial bonus paid in imperial silver bullion? I don’t need fancy jewelry; I need a quiet room with zero toxic aristocrats and zero surprise kisses!]
"Tomorrow afternoon, the central merchant quarter hosts its seasonal harvest fair," Xie Yan explained, leaning against the edge of the desk while watching his spouse’s expressive face. "We shall change into civilian attire and visit the market streets together. No bodyguards in heavy armor, no court etiquette, and no gossiping nobles."
Wen Yu’s mouth dropped open in genuine, unscripted shock.
[A market day outing?!] His internal stream erupted into a chaotic dance of sheer, unadulterated joy. [An actual, real-life civilian street market! Street food! Roasted chestnuts! Tanghulu hawthorn skewers! Hand-carved knick-knacks! This is the ultimate filler-Chapter trope that every slice-of-life romance novel desperately needs to lower the political tension!]
"I... I would be deeply honored to accompany you, General," Wen Yu said aloud, quickly lowering his head to hide the bright, eager grin spreading across his face. "This humble one has long desired to see the vibrant culture of the capital’s common folk."
By mid-afternoon the following day, the bustling avenues of the capital’s merchant district were alive with a deafening, vibrant energy. The crisp autumn air smelled of toasted sesame oil, fried scallion pancakes, fresh cedar wood, and boiling herbal tea.
Dressed in a simple, unadorned cotton robe of muted slate blue, Wen Yu walked along the broad stone street, his eyes darting frantically from stall to stall like a child in a candy store. Beside him stood Xie Yan, looking remarkably handsome—and far less terrifying—in a plain, dark navy traveling tunic without his usual iron shoulder guards or golden military seals.
"Do not wander too far into the crowd," Xie Yan cautioned softly, his long fingers casually brushing against the back of Wen Yu’s hand as they navigated past a crowded fruit stand. "The eastern market is famous for its pickpockets and chaotic street performers."
"I am right beside you, General," Wen Yu replied softly, keeping his spoken tone sweet and dutiful.
[Famous for pickpockets?] Wen Yu snorted mentally, his internal voice practically skipping down the cobblestone road. [Please, I used to ride the metropolitan subway line during peak rush hour with my laptop bag unzipped! A primitive street thief doesn’t stand a chance against someone trained in modern urban vigilance! Look at those fried pork dumplings over there! The visual layout of this market stall is a ten out of ten!]
Xie Yan bit his lip to keep from smiling as he listened to his consort’s unhinged commentary. He stepped closer, his broad shoulder lightly nudging against Wen Yu’s as they paused near a grand wooden bridge where a crowd had gathered to watch a puppet theater performance.
For the first time since transmigrating into this world, Wen Yu felt the crushing weight of his background-character anxiety melt away. There were no arrogant marquises throwing wine cups, no ancient tutors hurling history volumes, and no imperial consorts executing passive-aggressive verbal traps. It was just normal, everyday civilian life, noisy, messy, and wonderfully human.
As they strolled deeper into the artisan section of the market, where wooden crafts, hand-woven silk ribbons, and brass oil lamps were displayed on long velvet cloths, something caught Wen Yu’s eye.
Resting on a small, velvet-lined tray at the corner of a quiet carpenter’s stall was a small, palm-sized wooden puzzle box. It was crafted from dark, polished rosewood with intricate, sliding brass gears embedded into its sides, carved with subtle, flowing patterns that resembled northern mountain pines.
Wen Yu stopped in his tracks, staring down at the little mechanism with intense editor curiosity.
"Does something interest you, Consort Wen?" Xie Yan asked, stopping beside him and glancing at the wooden stall.
"Ah... no, General," Wen Yu stammered out loud, quickly taking a step back and fluttering his sleeves in mock indifference. "This humble one was merely admiring the artisan’s delicate woodwork. It is far too crude a trinket to occupy your noble attention."
[CRUDE TRINKET?!] Wen Yu screamed internally, his mental persona grabbing its own hair in agonizing conflict. [THAT PUZZLE BOX IS BRILLIANT! It uses a six-stage mechanical slide lock with hidden brass pinions! It’s like a physical embodiment of a complex plot structure! It would look so cool on Xie Yan’s massive rosewood desk to hold his military seals!]
He cast a quick glance at the general, who was currently distracted by a nearby horse trader shouting about saddle prices across the narrow alleyway.
Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Wen Yu quickly leaned toward the elderly carpenter behind the stall.
"How much for the rosewood puzzle box?" Wen Yu whispered rapidly in his natural, modern editor voice, pulling a small string of silver copper coins from his inner sleeve.
"Two hundred copper coins, young master," the old carpenter replied with a warm, toothless smile. "Crafted it myself using northern pine jointing techniques."
"I’ll take it," Wen Yu murmured, swiftly handing over the pouch of coins and sliding the smooth, cool wooden box into the deep, wide pocket of his left sleeve before Xie Yan turned back around.
As they resumed their walk toward the riverbank, Wen Yu’s hand remained buried inside his wide sleeve, his slender fingers nervously tracing the smooth, carved edges of the little wooden box.
[Oh man, why did I buy this?] Wen Yu worried frantically inside his head, his internal stream spiraling into a high-speed panic. [He’s the Supreme General of the Northern Border! He owns gold-plated daggers, imperial jade pendants, and land deeds worth thousands of gold taels! Giving him a cheap, two-hundred-copper wooden box from a common street stall is so embarrassingly tacky! He’s going to think I have the taste of a provincial peasant!]
Xie Yan walked beside him, his dark eyes brimming with an overwhelming, tender warmth as he listened to every single panicked thought echoing in his mind. The general kept his posture completely composed, though his heart beat with a quiet, fierce happiness that no imperial victory on the battlefield had ever provided.
"The sun is beginning to set," Xie Yan said softly, stopping near the stone arch of the river bridge where the golden evening light reflected off the calm water below. He turned to face Wen Yu, the cool autumn breeze rustling the edges of his navy tunic. "Did you enjoy your day in the civilian market, Consort Wen?"
Wen Yu looked up, his flushed face framed by the warm, golden glow of the setting sun. He dropped his timid act for a brief moment, offering a real, quiet smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes.
"It was... wonderful, General," Wen Yu admitted softly, his voice genuine and calm. "Thank you for bringing me here."
[He really is the best male lead this universe could have offered,] Wen Yu added in a quiet, warm broadcast that filled Xie Yan’s mind like a gentle melody. [Even if I’m just a background character who transmigrated by mistake... I’m really glad I met him.]
Xie Yan’s breath hitched, his hand moving automatically to cover Wen Yu’s hand where it rested against his sleeve, gently pressing against the small, hidden wooden box tucked inside the fabric.
"The pleasure was entirely mine, my sharp little consort," Xie Yan whispered, his dark eyes locking onto Wen Yu’s with an intensity that made the younger man’s heart skip a beat. "Now... let us head home."