That night, shortly after the hour of the boar, a dark figure swiftly vaulted over the palace walls and melted into the shadows of the night.
Inside his bedchamber, Jun Yichen lay fast asleep when a silent shadow materialized beside his bed. Just as Gu Ci reached out toward the prince’s nose, an overwhelming wave of lethal intent forced him to take a half-step back. Instantly, a figure closed in on him, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him down onto the mattress.
“Your, Your Highness, it’s me.”
Because Gu Ci had known all along that his assailant was Jun Yichen, he hadn’t fought back from the start; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ended up in such a disheveled state.
The commotion quickly alerted Mebai. Brandishing his sword, he threw open the chamber doors only to find his master pressing Lord Gu down onto the bed. Experienced as he was, Mebai was left utterly speechless by the sight.
Good lord… is the Prince going to silence him to cover this up?!
With a sudden burst of strength, Gu Ci wrenched himself free from Jun Yichen’s grip, breaking into a fit of violent coughing.
Realizing something was wrong, Mebai hurriedly poured a cup of water, handed it to Gu Ci, and asked with concern, “Lord Gu, what brings you?”
Gu Ci took the cup and gulped the water down, finally feeling his throat clear up. “I broke into the imperial palace in the middle of the night just to see if your master was still breathing. And as you can see, the rest is history.” He had almost been choked to death under the mistaken identity of an assassin.
Jun Yichen kept his gaze lowered, his hands trembling slightly at his sides as he struggled to process the reality that he had almost killed Gu Ci just moments ago.
Only then did Gu Ci notice something was amiss. Frowning slightly, he called out softly, “Your Highness, are you alright?”
Jun Yichen finally snapped back to reality. After months apart, he could no longer clearly distinguish between reality and a dream.
“A-Ci, you.”
Wearing a thick-skinned grin, Gu Ci laughed softly. “Your Highness, I’ve come to see you.” They said you never hit a smiling person; as long as he kept smiling, he couldn’t go wrong.
With that, he grabbed Jun Yichen’s hand and inspected it left and right. Seeing that the prince was merely a bit thinner and looked more fatigued than before, with no other changes, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
Countless novels depicted villains as prime candidates for psychological disorders, individuals who could snap and perish at any given moment.
Of course, he wasn’t the least bit surprised that Jun Yichen possessed martial arts skills, and quite formidable ones at that. If the primary antagonist of the entire book lacked even that much strength, he would have found it hard to believe.
After months of radio silence, he had genuinely feared the Seventh Prince might have met the same tragic end as the villains in those stories.
Jun Yichen looked at him with a soft smile, taking in every flicker of emotion passing across his face.
Though he already suspected the answer, he still asked, unable to resist testing him, “A-Ci, did you sneak into the palace in the middle of the night just to check on me?” His bright, glittering eyes locked onto Gu Ci, terrified of missing even the faintest nuance of expression.
A bit helpless, Gu Ci wondered why he hadn’t noticed before just how overly sentimental the Seventh Prince could be. Still, he looked him dead in the eye and answered earnestly, “Of course I came specifically to see Your Highness. If I ever do anything to displease you in the future, please tell me directly. Don’t just shut me out and refuse to see me, it makes me worry.” If the prince stopped seeing him, how on earth was he supposed to complete his mission?
With a raspy, tentative voice, Jun Yichen murmured, “A-Ci, may I give you a hug?”
Hearing this, Gu Ci didn’t think twice before spreading his arms wide in welcome.
Jun Yichen pulled him tightly into his embrace, as if trying to melt him directly into his own flesh and bone. Basking in Gu Ci’s warmth, the lingering anxiety in his chest finally began to dissipate.
Gu Ci gently patted Jun Yichen’s back, a touch bewildered. “Your Highness, are you sure you’re okay?” He couldn’t shake the feeling that the Seventh Prince was acting rather peculiar tonight.
Releasing him, Jun Yichen looked straight into his eyes with a resolute gaze. “A-Ci, thank you.”
Slightly embarrassed by the sudden burst of sentimentality, Gu Ci scratched the back of his head with a grin. “It’s nothing. Aren’t we friends?”
Jun Yichen reached out to ruffle the top of Gu Ci’s head, a brilliant smile blooming across his lips. “Mm, friends.” Who knows what the future holds? he silently appended in his heart.
Gu Ci felt as though he had eaten honey; his heart buzzed with sweetness, mixed with a faint flutter of nervous anticipation.
Noticing the sky beginning to pale with the first light of dawn, Gu Ci knew he had to leave quickly. If anyone caught him, the charge of trespassing in the imperial palace would be no small matter.
As a reward for successfully re-securing the villainous boss’s favor, Gu Ci treated himself to an extra two chicken thighs at lunch.
Ever since they reconciled, Gu Ci frequently slipped into the palace to chat with Jun Yichen—coincidentally, always right around lunchtime.
On this particular day, Mebai glanced at the sky and the tilting position of the sun. “Your Highness, shall I have lunch served?”
Before the words had even faded, Gu Ci’s cheerful voice rang out from the doorway.
“Your Highness, I’m here to cure your boredom!”
Hearing that, Mebai knew the VIP had arrived and that dinner could finally commence. “Your Highness, this subordinate will go arrange the meal right away,” he said, shooting a knowing, appreciative glance at Gu Ci as he stepped inside.
Privately, however, Mebai harbored quite a few grievances regarding Gu Ci’s daily freeloading routine. While his master’s private assets were vast and feeding an extra mouth was effortless, Lord Gu happened to be notoriously picky about food, forcing him and the guards to scour the capital for master chefs whenever they had spare time.
Everyone used to spend their days hunting down assassins across the world; now they spent their days hunting down chefs.
True to form, Gu Ci immediately launched into his culinary critique. “Your Highness, this oil-seared shrimp is truly fresh and crisp, not bad at all.” As he spoke, he picked up a pair of chopsticks and transferred a piece from the stir-fried bamboo shoots plate. After chewing thoughtfully for a moment, he frowned and critiqued, “Your Highness, the heat on these stir-fried bamboo shoots was too high; the shoots have gone woody.”
Watching his master sit there smiling warmly through it all, Mebai felt a bitter pang of anguish. Does this little ancestor have any idea that a single word from him could cost an innocent chef his livelihood?
Still, as long as his Highness was happy, anything went.
Mebai just prayed Lord Gu wouldn’t say another word, or he and his brothers would be run ragged searching for new kitchens again this week.
Fortunately, with the year coming to a close, the expeditionary force led by old Lord Gu was scheduled to arrive in the capital any day now.
Alongside the news of General Gu’s return for annual duty reporting came a peace negotiation and truce proposal dispatched by the Southern Frontier royal court.
Gu Ci had indeed been swamped with affairs lately, leaving him zero time to slip into the palace. All of this was because his grandfather had arrived in the capital two days ahead of schedule, completely catching him off guard. He had originally assumed he still had ample time to prepare, but now he had to scramble to deal with this sudden development.
Early the next morning, Uncle Zheng accompanied Gu Ci to wait outside the city gates. Standing nearby were Crown Prince Jun Yixuan, the Emperor’s chief eunuch, and a throng of high-ranking officials, a clear testament to the immense regard the Emperor held for the veteran Duke.
As the crowd craned their necks in eager anticipation, an aged general clad in dark grey armor crested the horizon on horseback. He sat tall and upright in the saddle, emanating an imposing, majestic aura like an immovable mountain.
His features were resolute and stern, his gaze sharp with unwavering grit and decisiveness. His battle-worn armor glinted coldly in the sunlight, silently recounting the countless fierce engagements he had survived.
Trailing closely behind the general was a disciplined, orderly battalion of troops. Their morale was sky-high, their strides resolute, and their faces lit with the joyful anticipation of reuniting with their families. Banners fluttered noisily in the wind, proclaiming their glory to the world.