Xiyu did not give his answer. He silently pondered the question in his heart. Is that really the case?
Was it because of Fuying that he was unwilling to leave the capital?
Xiyu felt a sense of bewilderment, like someone who did not originally belong to this world suddenly intervening in its affairs.
This made him feel a trace of fear and a desire to retreat.
Yet Wenren Yan could not help continuing, “Your subordinate told me about what happened previously, but I forgot that you were unwilling to accept my goodwill and remained holed up in that cold palace precisely because of such a person. If I had been unwilling to offer up another city, were you planning to stay there forever?”
Thinking of this matter, Xiyu suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. “Since you have gone to such great trouble this time, I will naturally not forget to repay you.”
Wenren Yan smiled, though the smile was uglier than crying, and his voice turned somewhat low. “Xiyu, you know very well that this is not what I want.”
Those two cities were something he offered voluntarily; he would not use them to coerce Xiyu.
Besides, for him to dare offer them, Ye Weifeng had to be capable of accepting them as well.
Those two cities were merely a bait, and once the fish took the hook, he could execute his next plan.
“Xiyu, I heard that the Ninth Prince was not born foolish. You feel a pang of conscience over this matter, which is why you treat him in every possible way as compensation. There is nothing incomprehensible about that.” Wenren Yan could not help reminding him.
“It is just that, Xiyu, have you ever thought about it? If one day he recovers his sanity, no matter how well you have treated him, the first person he will want to retaliate against is Ye Weifeng, and the second is you. If you do not wish to be hurt, then from the very beginning, you should not easily entrust your affections.”
Xiyu’s footsteps paused.
“No matter what, I will always remember your kindness. Back then, you let me go, enabling me to make a comeback and eventually become a king on the grasslands. Therefore, Xiyu, you must also remember that no matter what happens, I will always be your fallback.” Wenren Yan gave him the weightiest of promises.
Xiyu’s heart was not made of stone, after all. Toward Wenren Yan, he felt incomparable gratitude, but this gratitude was perhaps what Wenren Yan did not wish to hear.
“I will be leaving now.” Wenren Yan waved a hand. “Right, as for our plan, do not forget it.”
After saying this, Wenren Yan turned around, leaving Xiyu standing in place. His state of mind, stirred into ripples by Wenren Yan’s words, was more complex than ever before.
Yet he still had many more things to do; as for other emotions, he had no time to spare.
Although Wenren Yan had already arrived in the capital, according to the customs of Great Qing, a welcoming banquet could certainly not be prepared simply and quickly in a short span of time.
During the period of preparation, Wenren Yan remained in the capital, while Fuying continued to stay at Xiyu’s residence.
Xiyu originally should have lived a comfortable life, but he never expected that the one causing complications would actually be Ji Qingzhou.
It turned out to be because ever since Fuying arrived at the Xiyu residence, he kept competing with Ji Qingzhou for chores.
For instance, tasks like dressing the General and cooking meals had always been handled by Ji Qingzhou.
Although he was not a servant of the Xiyu household, and Xiyu had never made him do such things in the past, ever since Xiyu rescued him from a beggar’s den all those years ago, he had felt endless gratitude toward the entire Xiyu family, eager to repay Xiyu with his very life.
Back then, Ji Qingzhou did not possess such formidable martial arts skills as he did now, nor was he nearly as steady. When Xiyu first laid eyes on him, he was fighting with dogs over food in a pile of beggars.
It was a filthy, skin-and-bones dog, and Ji Qingzhou was not faring much better.
He was merely a youth in appearance, yet his gaze was remarkably fierce, and despite his frail and weak build, he inexplicably gave people the feeling that he was not someone to be trifled with.
Precisely because of this temperament, ordinary buyers would never select him to take home.
Yet Xiyu was no ordinary person. What caught his eye was precisely this raw, intimidating bloodthirstiness in Ji Qingzhou. He thought that this would make a fine blade.
Ji Qingzhou had also spotted the brightly dressed Xiyu. He wiped his palms, harboring a trace of unperceived panic, released the food he had been disputing with the stray dog, and then walked over to Xiyu, dropping to his knees before him.
“My lord, buy me and take me back. As long as there is a bite to eat, I am willing to do anything for you.”
Even while begging, Ji Qingzhou did not give the impression of being humble; instead, he resembled a dangerous wolf.
Xiyu smiled and then nodded. “Very well, provided you show me your value.”
Consequently, after coming to the Xiyu residence, Ji Qingzhou vied for every miscellaneous chore, whether as a servant or a pageboy, solely wanting Xiyu to see his usefulness.
He was capable of doing many things, using this method to plead with Xiyu not to abandon him.
However, one day, when Xiyu saw him chopping firewood in the back courtyard, his usual gentleness vanished, replaced by a cold expression.
“Is this the value you bring me? The woodcutter in my household has greater strength than you and is far more skilled at chopping wood.” Xiyu said to him.
Ji Qingzhou instantly flushed, feeling a sense of humiliation. He immediately added words, attempting to prove that he was not entirely useless, “I can also cook meals and sweep floors; I can do many things.”
Xiyu merely waved a hand. “My household already has people for those tasks; you are not needed for them.”
Ji Qingzhou lowered his head, anxiety beginning to ripple through his heart. He did not want to return to the days of going hungry and lacking warm clothes, nor did he want to die of starvation during a famine like his brothers.
He even had the impulse to kneel and beg Xiyu once again, yet he knew that this would likely only make the situation worse.
Just as Ji Qingzhou sank into deep despair, Xiyu took a step closer to him.
“I brought you back to the Xiyu family so that you could become a sharp blade capable of killing enemies, not a blunt knife for chopping firewood. Do you understand?” Xiyu asked him.
From then on, Ji Qingzhou diligently practiced martial arts, never slacking for a single moment regardless of bitter cold or scorching heat.
True to expectations, Ji Qingzhou did not disappoint Xiyu. He grew increasingly powerful, accompanying Xiyu onto the battlefield, eventually transforming into someone capable of protecting him. Furthermore, his loyalty to Xiyu remained utterly unchanged regardless of whatever predicament Xiyu faced.
Yet the habit of attending to Xiyu’s daily routines was something Ji Qingzhou could never break, no matter what position he attained.
Now that someone had suddenly popped up wanting to share this chore with him, he felt a deep sense of maladjustment.
“Ninth Prince, you have lived a life of pampered luxury since childhood; leave these miscellaneous chores to someone like me who is accustomed to them.” Ji Qingzhou snatched Xiyu’s garments, which Fuying was preparing to wash, right out of his hands.
Fuying blinked, his expression somewhat innocent. “But I cannot freeload at Brother Xiyu’s house. I want to do some things for Brother Xiyu.”
Ji Qingzhou felt quite helpless. “An estate as large as the Xiyu household is hardly going to lack that single bite you eat.”
Yet no one could have anticipated that Fuying’s personality would be stubborn to this extent. “Whether other people say that or not has nothing to do with me. I simply cannot get past my own conscience; I cannot live off Brother Xiyu for free.”
Ji Qingzhou felt the veins on his forehead throb violently from those words, wanting nothing more than to inform him that the phrase “live off for free” was not used in that manner.
Yet looking at Fuying’s somewhat sluggish reactions, he paused once again. There was no need to argue with him; he merely needed to tell him what to do.
“I understand your desire to do things for the General, but you can always find other tasks within your capacity. There is no need to compete with me over everything.”
Fuying could not comprehend the twists and turns behind his words, looking somewhat bewildered instead. “But you handle the task of tidying Brother Xiyu’s room. You handle the task of washing Brother Xiyu’s clothes, not to mention mending his old garments—you rush to do those chores as well. I do not know what else is left for me to do.”
The scene became somewhat awkward for a moment, and Ji Qingzhou felt rather embarrassed by those words.
He was not even a domestic servant of the Xiyu residence, and now he was a subordinate holding an official rank. To show such eager attentiveness to Xiyu’s affairs inevitably appeared somewhat flattering.
Other people naturally respected his status and would never speak such words to him, yet Fuying was someone whose six senses were incomplete, frank to the point of having no taboos whatsoever.
“There are always other things that can be done, surely,” Ji Qingzhou struggled to say.
Yet at that exact moment, a single thought flashed simultaneously through both of their minds.
That was…
The two of them bolted wildly toward the back kitchen of the Xiyu residence.
Ever since transmigrating, Xiyu had adapted well to all sorts of ancient conventions, with one sole exception that he still found difficult to accept: ancient cuisine.
A modern person accustomed to the rich flavors of Chinese gastronomy found it hard not to have a somewhat tasteless experience upon suddenly returning to an ancient era characterized by minimal salt, minimal oil, and scarce seasonings.
It was one thing to have nothing good to eat in the cold palace, but there was no reason to still lack an appetite after returning to his own estate.
Both Fuying and Ji Qingzhou had observed this dilemma and naturally wanted to resolve this vexing issue for him.
Mastering culinary skills through diligent practice and personally cooking a delicious meal for Xiyu struck them both as a brilliant idea.
Since both of them arrived at this realization simultaneously, looking at each other’s actions immediately stirred a competitive streak within them.
“Fine then. Cooking is a task that at least requires no fighting; you make one dish, and I will make one dish. When both are served to the General simultaneously, whichever one he chooses to eat will be entirely his freedom to decide,” Ji Qingzhou declared to Fuying.
Fuying nodded, then silently pumped himself up with determination.
Brother Xiyu had cooked so many meals for him back in the cold palace; now it was his turn to cook one for him. His culinary skills might not match Ji Qingzhou’s, but his sincerity would surely not fall short of the other’s.
Both of them entered a state of high ambition, right up until the Xiyu household’s cook was temporarily chased out of the kitchen, leaving the two of them to fill the Xiyu estate’s back kitchen with billowing smoke.
After much commotion, two dishes were brought out and presented to Xiyu at the exact same time, completely anonymous so that it was impossible to tell at a glance whose hands each dish had originated from.
“General, would you care to change your palate today?” Ji Qingzhou asked, looking at him expectantly.
“Brother Xiyu, I do not know if you will like it, but Fuying tried very hard to make it. Please give me some face,” Fuying said, rolling his round, glossy eyes.
Xiyu was utterly stunned, failing to even process how the two of them could be so childish as to resort to this. Yet when two pairs of expectant and nervous eyes stared at him simultaneously, Xiyu suddenly felt a wave of awkwardness.
He raised his chopsticks and held them aloft for a long while, utterly unable to figure out where to begin.