After the morning court session ended, Pei Zhiyu went straight to the Imperial City Agency.
The Imperial City Agency had only recently been established, and it was tasked with overseeing city patrols, surveillance, and various internal palace matters. The workload was heavy and complex, keeping Pei Zhiyu busy from morning until night.
But busy as he was, his position at the Imperial City Agency—directly under the emperor’s command—had quickly made him a sharp blade in the Son of Heaven’s hands. He was Commander Pei, a name that struck fear into the hearts of officials throughout the court.
“Commander, the Marquis’s estate has sent someone again.”
The petty official delivering the message grinned broadly, stressing the word “again.”
He knew that no matter how many case files were piled up, the Commander would always let them in, just as he always did.
“Let them in.”
The petty official acknowledged loudly and withdrew to relay the message. Around him, several colleagues exchanged knowing smiles.
Pei Zhiyu’s expression remained unchanged, but the knuckles of his hand gripping the brush had turned faintly white from the pressure. The brush tip hovered over the paper, hesitating, refusing to descend.
The moment Shiyue stepped inside with the maidservant in tow, he immediately lifted his gaze.
“Young Master, my lady has ordered me to deliver your morning meal.” Shiyue curtsied in greeting, then gestured for the maidservant behind her to step forward and lay out the exquisite dishes one by one on the empty table nearby.
A faint, delicate fragrance drifted through the air. Noticing his colleagues repeatedly craning their necks to peek, Pei Zhiyu shifted subtly to the side, blocking their line of sight.
What right did these people have to look at the things Suisui had sent?
“Young Master, there’s also this.”
Shiyue stepped forward and handed over an already-opened sandalwood box, nestled within which lay an exquisitely embroidered sachet resting on soft satin.
She smiled, two dimples appearing on her cheeks, utterly endearing: “My lady said the fragrance of the sachet she embroidered for you before should have faded by now, so she made a new one for you to wear in its place.”
Pei Zhiyu responded warmly, taking the wooden box with a composed expression: “Please convey my thanks to the lady.”
“You’re too kind, Young Master. This servant will wait outside for now—just call for me once you’ve finished your meal.”
With that, Shiyue led the maidservants in a curtsy and withdrew.
Only then did Pei Zhiyu take out the sachet from the wooden box. Suppressing the urge to press it against his nose and inhale deeply, he fastened it to the jade belt at his waist, his fingertips trembling slightly.
If… if he were to smell it now, he should still be able to catch Suisui’s fragrance, shouldn’t he?
He lowered his lashes to conceal the darkness in his eyes, his thumb gently tracing the embroidery on the sachet.
Suisui had held this in her hands while embroidering it… It felt as soft as she did. If only her hands could wrap around him like this…
“Commander, we’re all hungry too. How about—”
Pei Zhiyu had always treated his subordinates gently within the Imperial City Agency, getting along well with everyone. The man who spoke was teasing, but his words died abruptly in his throat when Pei Zhiyu lifted his eyes.
In those eyes… there was a cold, murderous darkness, as if he wanted to flay the speaker alive with a single look.
The man swallowed nervously. In the blink of an eye, Pei Zhiyu’s gaze had returned to its usual clear warmth, as if what he’d just seen had been an illusion.
“It seems you’re all too idle today, coming to beg me for food?” Pei Zhiyu’s tone was as gentle and smiling as ever, yet carried a subtle pressure. “Organize all the case files I assigned you yesterday and hand them to me before wei hour.”
A chorus of groans filled the room, and no one had any spare attention left for the morning meal on the table. The man who had spoken assumed he’d simply misread the situation and buried his head in his paperwork.
The corner of Pei Zhiyu’s lips curved upward. As everyone busied themselves, he leisurely began his meal.
One person, still distracted, whispered to a colleague nearby: “Three months of marriage, and not a single day missed… The Commander’s wife really is too good to him.”
Pei Zhiyu listened to the hushed murmurs, his expression betraying nothing. He only let his tongue lightly graze his canine teeth, a deep, satisfied darkness churning beneath his half-lowered lashes.
Of course—his Suisui… would always be the best.
After a busy morning, Pei Zhiyu returned home as usual to have lunch with Jiang Sui. As he was leaving the Imperial City Agency, however, a voice called out after him.
“Huaishu—wait, wait!”
Pei Zhiyu stopped and turned as instructed, watching his friend Xiao Heng hurry up to him carrying a medicine box.
His gaze paused on the medicine box almost imperceptibly before sliding away:
“I recall you have the day off today.”
Xiao Heng came from a family of physicians and now served at the Imperial Medical Bureau alongside his father.
Hearing this, Xiao Heng glanced around at their surroundings before leaning in and lowering his voice: “The Emperor is unwell. I stayed up all night with my father attending to him.”
Had it not been for his years of friendship with Pei Zhiyu, and the fact that Pei Zhiyu was now a close minister to the Son of Heaven, Xiao Heng would never have revealed such matters so plainly.
Pei Zhiyu’s expression remained composed, as if he were merely making small talk with a friend: “…The Emperor’s ailment—it’s an old problem.”
Xiao Heng sighed softly: “Isn’t it just. The Emperor has been sleeping poorly these past few days. Fortunately, I’d just managed to formulate a new sedative—it let him sleep soundly for a good while.”
Pei Zhiyu’s footsteps paused almost imperceptibly. His lashes trembled in the sunlight, casting a small, quivering arc of shadow.
His voice sounded perfectly normal: “A sedative is just a sedative. What’s so special about it?”
“The old sedative formulas inevitably harmed the body. But the one I’ve newly made truly only makes one sleep deeply, without the slightest harm.”
There was a note of pride in Xiao Heng’s voice. Pei Zhiyu’s thin lips pressed together briefly, his breath catching for a moment before settling.
Makes one sleep deeply, without harming the body…
He almost immediately thought of Jiang Sui’s defenseless sleeping face curled up in his arms that morning, and her drowsy, dazed eyes when she woke and looked back at him blankly.
Pei Zhiyu’s throat rolled with restraint, but he couldn’t suppress the rising dryness in his mouth.
If only she could sleep a little deeper, could he… hold her a while longer?
Or even…
He suddenly stopped in his tracks. “This medicine… do you have more?”
Xiao Heng looked bewildered. “Of course I do. Why?”
Pei Zhiyu turned to his friend, a hint of sheepish smile in his clear eyes. “It’s embarrassing to say, but I’ve been buried in paperwork lately and can’t sleep at night. Haven’t rested well for days.”
Xiao Heng eyed his friend’s bright, spirited eyes suspiciously, and the flawless jade-white skin beneath them with no trace of fatigue whatsoever. For a moment, he questioned his own medical expertise.
Strange—how could there be no sign at all?
But since his friend rarely asked him for anything, Xiao Heng agreed readily. “Alright, I’ll have someone deliver it to your residence later.”
“No need.”
Pei Zhiyu interrupted with a smile at the corner of his lips. “I’ll come pick it up myself. Don’t let my wife know—I’m afraid she’ll worry.”
Xiao Heng paused, then covered his eyes with a sigh. “Little Marquis…”
Pei Zhiyu stated a time in a gentle voice, then paid no more attention to his friend’s utterly speechless expression. He swung onto the horse his servant had brought, and rode away without a backward glance.
Xiao Heng quickly stepped back, waving a hand in front of his face to avoid the kicked-up dust.
He clicked his tongue lightly. “Out of sight, out of mind, once a beauty’s in his life…”
But this friend of many years—after getting married, he’d finally gained a bit of… humanity?
Xiao Heng squinted at Pei Zhiyu’s shrinking figure as he rode into the distance, lost in thought.
Even as one of Pei Zhiyu’s few close friends, Xiao Heng wouldn’t dare claim to truly understand him.
He was always smiling, speaking gently, measured in every move, like a spring breeze—yet like a fog, impossible to see through to the core.
He was like that with everyone.
How could anyone be utterly devoid of selfish desires, as if wearing the skin of a perfect man?
Xiao Heng rubbed his chin, thinking idly:
This little marquis seems to get along quite well with his wife. I wonder what he’s like in front of her?