Xie Zhengming collected his thoughts, pondering to himself: Just moments ago, pent-up rage had disrupted my vital energy, snapping my heart vessels completely. By all rights, it should have been beyond saving, yet now I can feel my internal energy coursing powerfully through me, showing absolutely no signs of damage. It is truly bizarre.
He looked down, but the pair of red candles he had been clutching in his arms were nowhere to be found. Feeling somewhat vexed, he shouted for someone:
“Come here!”
Zhou Ji, the guard outside the door, immediately pushed it open, cupped his fists, and said:
“Your Highness.”
The moment Xie Zhengming laid eyes on him, his eyes widened in utter disbelief.
“…Zhou Ji! You, how are you… weren’t you killed in action on the Nanshan battlefield? How…”
Zhou Ji blinked in absolute bewilderment, completely failing to understand what his Prince was talking about.
“Your Highness, are you dreaming? Rest assured, this subordinate is not dead; I am safe and sound.”
Looking at the living, breathing Zhou Ji before him, Xie Zhengming felt a shock no less potent than encountering a ghost in broad daylight. Though he had never believed in ghosts or deities, Zhou Ji had unequivocally perished right before his eyes back then—how could there possibly be any mistake?
“You…”
Zhou Ji was the one Qin Duan had rescued from a pile of corpses, after which he had remained by Xie Zhengming’s side as a trusted and beloved confidant. Back when Xie Zhengming had punished Qin Duan far too harshly, Zhou Ji had risked his life to talk back to him and had even slain the executioner with his own hands. He had declared that he would no longer serve Xie Zhengming and only wished to attend to Qin Duan for the rest of his days.
Yet later on, whether due to some persuasion from Qin Duan or otherwise, this fellow had actually returned to the military camp, though he was never as close to Xie Zhengming as before, growing respectful and polite instead. During that battle against the Turkic tribes, Zhou Ji had still sacrificed himself to block that poisoned arrow for Xie Zhengming, perishing right before his eyes.
With his dying breath, Zhou Ji had uttered only a single sentence:
“The life I owed to Brother Qin has been repaid… and now I go to see…”
“Your Highness, this estate bestowed by the Emperor is simply too massive! Brother Qin is busy over in the western courtyard right now. He said that how the main courtyard should be decorated still requires your instruction, so the workmen are all waiting right now.”
Hearing these words, a thunderclap exploded in Xie Zhengming’s mind.
An estate bestowed by the Emperor…
That was… three years ago…
Xie Zhengming suddenly leaped off the bed, grabbed Zhou Ji by the shoulders, and demanded:
“Brother Qin, which Brother Qin?”
Zhou Ji thought his Highness was acting rather peculiar today. Just after being invited out for drinks by several high officials, he had come back and slept for half a day while a mountain of estate affairs awaited arrangement, and Brother Qin had exhausted himself running about—yet his master was actually asking which Brother Qin!
Suppressing half an eye-roll, Zhou Ji replied:
“Oh, Your Highness, how many Brother Qin Duans could there possibly be in this estate? You’ve slept half the day, haven’t the wine fumes cleared from your head yet?”
Xie Zhengming’s mind was in utter chaos, but he could no longer care about any of that. Whether this was a dream or whatever else it might be, at this very moment, he only wanted to hold that person in his arms once more.
Qin Duan… Qin Duan… Even if I must forsake all this fame, fortune, and noble status, what of it? I want none of it, absolutely none of it, I only want you, only you! If only time could truly start over again.
Xie Zhengming strode all the way to the western courtyard. As soon as he stepped inside, a soft, warm, and refined voice drifted over, sounding like celestial music from the highest heavens, striking every single chord in his heart.
“A-Wu, just place that slim-waisted, blue-and-white floral porcelain vase right beside the screen…”
Upon seeing Prince Ding approach, the servants hurriedly stepped forward to bow and pay their respects.
Hearing the commotion, Qin Duan turned around. Catching sight of Xie Zhengming, a smile blossomed across his delicate, elegant face:
“A-zheng, you’re here. I haven’t finished arranging things here yet, and I haven’t had a chance to attend to the main courtyard… A-zheng?”
Gazing at that familiar face, Xie Zhengming felt his entire world shake violently to its foundations. He rushed forward and pulled Qin Duan tightly into his embrace, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.
In his past life, after he personally dispatched that venomous woman Yanning, the Emperor had feigned ignorance of the underlying circumstances, merely remarking that the border situation was pressing. Seizing the opening, Xie Zhengming had immediately requested to personally garrison the northern frontier. At the time, he had assumed Qin Duan’s refusal to see him stemmed from lingering resentment; once he returned in triumph, the two of them would surely resolve the knot in their hearts and pick up where they left off. Yet he never expected that three years later, when he returned to the capital for his official review, the newly favored Chancellor standing at the head of all officials and enjoying the Emperor’s highest esteem would possess the exact same face he had yearned for day and night amid the howling northern winds and open-air encampments while far away at the frontier.
So the Emperor’s newly ennobled Chancellor, Qin Muqing, turned out to be none other than Qin Duan. Years apart had made it impossible to confine him any longer within the four square walls of an estate courtyard, waiting day and night for his arrival.
Come to think of it, in his previous life, although he possessed formidable martial arts and had studied military strategy since childhood, making commanding troops look effortless, the major battles that had truly brought him renown and showered him with military achievements had all been planned by Qin Duan. And back then, Qin Duan had never once sought to claim credit before the Emperor, attributing all those victories entirely to the Mighty General Xie Zhengming. The world knew only of Xie Zhengming, the peerless god of war among the rebel forces, but none knew that the true genius possessing a brilliant, labyrinthine mind comparable to Zhuge Liang was Qin Duan.
At that time, looking from afar at Qin Duan clad in his scarlet Chancellor’s robes within the imperial court, Xie Zhengming had suddenly felt that the person before him was as distant as the lingering shadow of a sunset in his memories—they were, after all, a broken lute whose snapped strings could never be restrung.
Staring blankly at Qin Duan at this very moment, Xie Zhengming gently stroked the distant, misty contours of his brows with the pad of his thumb. He let the words straight from his heart slip out unbidden:
“A’duan, am I dreaming right now? Could you please… not let me wake up?”
Looking into Xie Zhengming’s misty, fog-veiled eyes, Qin Duan had no idea where these words came from.
“A-zheng, what is wrong with you? Do you feel unwell anywhere?”
Xie Zhengming shook his head, silently following Qin Duan into the inner parlor. He lost count of how many times he secretly pinched his own thigh; the sharper the pain, the more uncontrollable and surging the excitement grew in his chest.
As Qin Duan walked along, he suddenly felt his body grow light as his feet left the floor. Startled, he instinctively wrapped his arms around Xie Zhengming’s neck.
“Ah… A-zheng, what are you doing…”
Carrying him into the bedchamber, Xie Zhengming had originally been too impatient to return and pour his heart out to his beloved. But Qin Duan was genuinely frightened, assuming his Highness intended to engage in wanton daylight revelry. A bright flush bloomed across his handsome face, while the servants attending in the inner parlor hurriedly lowered their gazes, though they couldn’t suppress the grins pulling at the corners of their mouths.
Qin Duan felt this posture was utterly humiliating, yet he couldn’t bear to utter harsh words to Xie Zhengming, so he simply buried his face in the crook of Xie Zhengming’s neck, closing his eyes and pretending not to see anything.
Xie Zhengming, however, noticed the servants’ reactions. Drawing upon the experiences of his past life, he knew these menial attendants had never truly regarded Qin Duan as a proper master. Seeing their behavior, he recognized it as condescension toward Qin Duan. His expression darkened as he rebuked:
“Lord Qin has been busy the entire morning until his feet ache, yet none of you knew to fetch a chair for him or urge him to rest? What use do I have for the likes of you? If there is a next time, you will all be punished together! Get out of here.”
The servants scuttled away with lowered heads and abject expressions. Qin Duan, meanwhile, never expected Xie Zhengming to reprimand the servants on his behalf today. Those people certainly deserved a scolding; they likely assumed that since Xie Zhengming was a Prince, he would eventually take a proper princess consort, and that he a male wife could not possibly remain in the estate forever, hence their casual and disrespectful attitude.
Normally, he wouldn’t bother bickering over such matters. He was a man, and he disdained wasting energy on these petty inner-courtyard intrigues. Besides, what the future held for him and Xie Zhengming would naturally come to light in due time.
When Xie Zhengming gently laid him down upon the bedchamber mattress and looked into Qin Duan’s thoroughly blushing face, a sense of reality finally began to seep into his heart.
Lowering his head in shyness, Qin Duan murmured:
“A-zheng, it’s… this is still daytime…”
“I know, A’duan. I just… want to lie here with you for a while and talk.”
Qin Duan raised his spring-water-clear eyes in genuine astonishment:
“Talk?”
“Mn, we haven’t sat down and had a proper chat together in a very long time.”
Regarding Xie Zhengming’s notion of carrying him onto the bedchamber mattress in broad daylight simply to chat, Qin Duan found it both baffling and intensely embarrassing, his gaze repeatedly drifting toward the window.
Noticing his inner thoughts, Xie Zhengming said in a soft, gentle voice:
“What is it? Is A’duan feeling shy?”