When he stopped calling him “my lord” and called him by name, the armor seemed to fall away, revealing a distant yet familiar profile – the Yan Xiaohan Fu Shen first knew.
“Choosing between military and imperial power is different from casually helping you. We’ve known each other for years. I can’t just watch you trapped there.”
Just as he said, Yan Xiaohan drew a clear line between friendship’s “righteousness” and court “righteousness”.
Fu Shen was finally speechless. He disliked convincing others with words, and today’s repeated questioning was already unusual. His patience was exhausted, and he was displeased with Yan Xiaohan’s “self-abandonment”, saying coldly: “Are you done?”
Yan Xiaohan knew he was about to get angry.
Fu Shen, who had been a young master and then a general, was used to having the final say. Sometimes when he got angry, he was truly… unreasonable.
Even so, Yan Xiaohan persisted under the dark clouds: “I’ll have someone send medicine later, remember…”
Fu Shen coldly said: “Get out.”
Master Yan, worthy of being a remarkable talent, immediately became obedient, smoothly rolling out.
That night, Fu Shen was so angry he couldn’t sleep, his leg wound throbbing. He tossed and turned, Yan Xiaohan’s words echoing in his mind.
He actually wanted to ask: If it were someone else, out of friendship, would you also bring them home, carefully nurse them, stay by their bedside, and persistently remind them to take medicine?
Would you also whisper in their ear, grinding your teeth, asking “Why didn’t you fight back”?
At the beginning of spring, the city was filled with travelers, and a group of handsome young gentlemen rode into the city on horseback, drawing countless gazes. Some bold women threw silk handkerchiefs or various colored flowers at the crowd, creating a spectacle, causing the citizens to stop and gather.
At this moment, the sound of horse hooves suddenly came from behind, and the armored imperial guards rushed into the city, with the crowd automatically making way. The leader shouted, “The imperial carriage is passing, bystanders retreat!”
The crowd converged in front of Fu Shen, with those in front continuously retreating, while those behind were unaware of what was happening, causing a sudden congestion. As the imperial guards were about to charge forward, Fu Shen hurriedly turned his horse to avoid them. Unexpectedly, as he shifted, he narrowly avoided a flower thrown towards the back of his head.
The flower seemed to have eyes, dodging Fu Shen and flying directly towards the face of an imperial guard on horseback. The thrower must have used tremendous force, and Fu Shen even thought he heard the sound of the wind breaking.
“I’m doomed,” he thought helplessly.
The imperial guard caught the flying flower and looked over in surprise. Fu Shen reacted quickly, immediately pulling up his sleeve to cover his face.
Before another word could be spoken, the imperial carriage entered the city gate, with the guards clearing the way and the citizens kneeling. Fu Shen and his group, all sons of noble families, happened to kneel at the very front.
Emperor Tai also noticed this group of outstanding young men and specially stopped to inquire.
The military faction, with the Ying Guo Mansion being the most prominent, meant that Fu Shen was inevitably singled out by the emperor for a few words of encouragement. His legs were numb from kneeling on the stone bricks before the emperor finally showed mercy and returned to the palace.
As the imperial carriage continued forward and the imperial guards passed by, Fu Shen knelt obediently waiting for the emperor to leave. Suddenly, a horse’s hooves stopped in front of him.
He raised his head in confusion, meeting a pair of deep, smiling eyes.
Fu Shen’s gaze slid from the eyes to the hand holding the reins, noticing a pink-white flower in his palm.
…It was the imperial guard from earlier.
Fu Shen was too late to pull his sleeve again. He could only watch as the other’s pale lips curved slightly, riding away and casually throwing the flower into his embrace.
The flower perfectly nestled at his collar. It seemed… intentional.
Fu Shen stood up like a scholar bewitched by a fox spirit, his mind blank, that smile lingering in his vision.
“Hey, Brother Fu, what are you looking at? Let’s go,” a voice called.
Inexplicably, he didn’t throw away the flower but held it in his hand, mounted his horse, and casually asked the person beside him, “Do you know that imperial guard?”
“
Riding alongside him was Chen Guo Mansion’s heir, Yi Siming, already appointed as a fourth-rank Gold Prohibition Guard lieutenant. Hearing this, he looked disdainful: “That guy? Brother, let me warn you, he’s not worth our attention.”
Fu Shen asked, “What do you mean?”
Yi Siming replied, “That person is Yan Xiaohan, lieutenant of the Left Dragon Martial Guard.”
Fu Shen understood immediately. The Gold Prohibition Guard was the chief of the Southern Imperial Guards, while the Dragon Martial Guard belonged to the Northern Guards, which were always at odds.
Yi Siming continued, “You don’t know, he’s the adopted son of Duan Linglong. No matter how good-looking he is, what’s the use? Who knows how he climbed up…”
Duan Linglong was the top eunuch of the current court. One can imagine how Yan Xiaohan, who had a eunuch as an adoptive father, was viewed even lower than eunuchs in their eyes.
Somehow, after hearing Yi Siming’s words, Fu Shen felt a sense of pity, like a flower just in full bloom being ruthlessly crushed.
Oh right, the flower.
He brought the flower to his eyes and looked closely. But after the first glance, his expression instantly froze.
Damn, it was a paired lotus!
Since his arrival, the atmosphere in the Yan household has been somewhat less than composed. The delicate laughter of the maids drifted out from the half-closed window, causing Yan Xiaohan to pause his footsteps and listen carefully, suddenly feeling a mix of both calm and unease in his heart.
He unreasonably thought: I was the one who served you medicine and water, accompanied you to appreciate paintings and drink tea, so why are you chatting and laughing with them, yet you’re stingy even with a smile for me?
He wanted to take a step forward, but his feet seemed nailed to the ground. The heated emotion suddenly cooled, and Yan Xiaohan chewed over those thoughts in his mind again, laughing bitterly and asking himself: “Yes, what right do I have?”
Unable to take that step, Yan Xiaohan felt like a snail whose shell had been shattered. After last night’s reckless breakdown, he could no longer maintain a calm and composed armor to face Fu Shen.
As he thought this, his feet turned, and he was about to leave the courtyard. Unexpectedly, a maid heard his footsteps and glanced out: “The master has returned.”
Everyone hurried to open the door and welcome him in.
Fu Shen turned from the bookshelf, holding a goji berry and red date tea, with a lingering smile in his eyes, and greeted: “You’re back.”
Yan Xiaohan was stunned, not receiving the cold face he had expected. Fu Shen, noticing his poor complexion, asked: “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He said to the maids: “You can all go. Have the kitchen prepare dinner. I want to have a few words with the master.”
Yan Xiaohan had never imagined what kind of wife Fu Shen might marry, but this scene before him felt so natural as if it were printed according to his heart’s desire, unexpectedly filling the missing piece of his dream.
