Chapter Thirty-Two: The Friendship of Gentlemen

It was very late when Zhongli Yu finally returned to Lixiang Courtyard. As he stepped into the room, he saw his wife quietly leafing through a book. He walked softly over to her and pulled her into his arms.

“Why are you still up?”

“I was waiting for you. I couldn't fall asleep when you didn't come back.” She wasn't sure when she'd acquired this habit, but without him by her side, the room felt empty, and sleep eluded her.

“Are you hungry? I had the kitchen prepare some late-night snacks. Would you like to eat something?”

“All right, but you have to eat with me.” Warmth suffused his heart—so this was how wonderful it felt to have someone waiting at home.

“Of course. Qingyun, bring in the supper.”

“Yes, miss.”

In no time at all, Qingyun brought in the dishes, still steaming hot, clearly kept warm for a while. He led her to sit by the table, and without needing any servants, laid out the meal himself. Now and then, he would bring a bite to Zhan Yan's lips, and she accepted his chopsticks without reserve.

After their meal, Zhan Yan finally began to ask about what had happened at the palace.

“It seems this war is unavoidable. King Yang Yuxiong of Xiyuan is ambitious, dissatisfied with the current state of affairs, and always dreaming of dominating the world. If he defeats Dongling, the other small nations won't be worth his notice, and his ambitions will be realized.” Zhongli Yu spoke heavily; apart from those consumed by ambition, few could truly desire war.

“But can they really go to war just because the Xiyuan crown prince was attacked in Dongling, without any investigation? That seems like a flimsy excuse. Dongling had no reason to assassinate the visiting prince from Xiyuan. We're not fools,” Zhan Yan said in disbelief.

“No matter the reason, any excuse will suffice. For the ambitious, even without a reason, war would still be waged. The excuse is merely to silence the public.”

Zhan Yan nodded in deep agreement.

“Let's sleep. Tomorrow, we should visit the Xiyuan prince to see how he’s recovering.” Zhongli Yu scooped her up in his arms.

“You—” Zhan Yan gasped, startled that he would simply pick her up. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, afraid he might drop her.

He laid her gently on the bed, helped her remove her shoes, then reached for her outer garment. Zhan Yan blushed, feeling like prey awaiting its fate. Zhongli Yu swiftly removed his own outer robe, lay beside her, and pulled her into his embrace.

“What are you thinking about, Yan’er?” Seeing her cheeks flush so prettily, he couldn’t help but want to nibble them.

“N-nothing.” She realized he only wanted to hold her as they slept; clearly, her thoughts had gone astray. Her cheeks reddened further.

“If that's what you were thinking, then as your husband, I shall oblige.” Before she could protest, he sealed her lips with his. Zhan Yan could only utter a soft sound before she was swept away by his tenderness.

The next morning, Zhongli Yu woke early, but Zhan Yan was still asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he watched her sleeping face in silence. He sighed softly, uncertain when war would come, and whether, when it did, he would still be able to hold her like this in peace.

Perhaps his sigh woke her, or perhaps she'd simply slept enough. She gradually opened her eyes, meeting the deep affection in his gaze, and felt a wave of indescribable contentment.

“Why are you awake so early?” she asked hoarsely. After last night’s passion, she was still tired. How did this man have such stamina?

“I’ve grown used to rising early. When this hour comes, I wake.” His voice was gentle, as if loath to break the morning's quiet. “If you’re still tired, sleep a bit longer.”

“No, let’s get up. We still need to visit the post station to see the prince, don’t we?” Zhan Yan rose and began to dress. Zhongli Yu followed suit.

By the time they finished preparing and stepped outside, it was already noon. This time, they were in no mood to stroll and instead took a carriage straight to the post station where Yang Rui was staying.

Many guards were stationed there, clearly sent by the King of Dongling to protect Yang Rui. When they saw Zhongli Yu, they saluted him respectfully. He nodded and walked directly into Yang Rui’s room.

Yang Rui still looked weak, but much better than the day before. “How is Your Highness feeling? Any better?” Zhongli Yu inquired coolly, his demeanor always reserved—except with Zhan Yan.

“Much better. I’m grateful to Prince Chun for saving my life,” Yang Rui replied, unable to stop himself from glancing at Zhan Yan.

“That was simply fate; you happened to meet me at the right time. There’s no need to dwell on it.”

“I will never forget this debt of gratitude,” Yang Rui said, bowing to Zhongli Yu and no longer referring to himself as ‘this palace.’ “May I have the honor of making friends with Your Highness?”

Yang Rui admired Prince Chun. Only a man like him could be worthy of a woman like Zhan Yan. At least for now, he was not; he was merely a discarded prince with no more value. Yang Rui smiled bitterly.

“So long as Your Highness does not invade Dongling with troops, we are friends,” Zhongli Yu said gravely.

“I understand. Unfortunately, I am now a pawn to be discarded. I have no say in Xiyuan’s affairs.” Yang Rui spoke apologetically.

“I understand.” Truth be told, Zhongli Yu felt some sympathy for Yang Rui and could not bring himself to reproach him harshly.

“I have a favor to ask. I wonder if Prince Chun could grant it?”

“Speak.”

“Bairou is my own sister. I don’t want her to come to harm. Would you help find a safe place for her?” Yang Rui asked cautiously; he had no bargaining chips left and little hope his request would be granted.

At the mention of Princess Bairou, Zhongli Yu frowned. He truly disliked dealing with women—they were nothing but trouble.

“If Your Highness trusts me, I will find her a place to stay,” Zhan Yan offered, seeing her husband’s displeasure. She couldn’t bear to refuse the princess, knowing her current plight.

“Then I must thank Your Highness.” Yang Rui looked at her with gratitude.

“It’s a small matter, hardly worth mentioning,” Zhan Yan replied with a gentle smile.

“Yan’er, you—”

“It’s all right. It’s only a matter of finding her a place to stay, nothing more,” Zhan Yan interrupted before Zhongli Yu could object. Though Bairou was technically her rival, in times like these, she was simply a pitiable soul. There was no reason to turn her away over such a trivial matter.

“As long as you don’t mind.” Zhongli Yu feared nothing except his wife’s unhappiness.

“It’s fine. The Gu family estate is empty now, so she can stay there,” Zhan Yan said softly. It seemed she wouldn’t be living there herself for some time. With the emperor relying on Zhongli Yu, he would be too busy to leave, and what was the point of living there alone?

As if sensing her thoughts, Zhongli Yu gently squeezed her hand.

Zhan Yan smiled at him, showing she was fine. Affairs of the nation came first; she was not unreasonable.

Yang Rui watched the couple, their intimacy oblivious to others, and a pang of pain struck his heart. How dearly he wished he could be the one standing by her side. But it was too late—he had missed his chance.