He composed himself and sat down opposite Fu Shen: “The Ministry of Rites has set the wedding date on the twelfth of February, the Flower Festival. If you go to the Emperor now to say you want to return to North Yan, you’ll definitely be questioned and rejected. It’s better to wait. By the end of the year, you can submit a memorial stating that you’re about to get married and request to return to Yan Province to pay respects to your father and uncle, and inform your colleagues.”
Departing in the first month and returning to the capital in the second month, the Emperor will likely approve.”
Fu Shen thought for a moment and nodded: “That makes sense, let’s do it this way.”
He realized that since living with Yan Xiaohan, the number of times he said “let’s do it this way” had increased dramatically. He had no dissatisfaction with being stripped of decision-making power, but instead felt it was quite convenient. It seemed that Yan Xiaohan, as an “outsider”, could consider Fu Shen’s interests. Once or twice might be coincidental, but doing so consistently revealed a deeply hidden thoughtfulness.
“The feeling of not having to worry about things is really good,” Fu Shen silently sighed in his heart.
After discussing official matters, they fell into an awkward silence. After a while, Fu Shen took the initiative: “Your complexion was poor just now. Did something happen?”
Yan Xiaohan sat straight in the chair and shook his head: “Nothing.”
Fu Shen would have been surprised if he believed that. He couldn’t guess Yan Xiaohan’s thoughts, and probed: “Did you not sleep well, or… are you still angry about last night?”
Yan Xiaohan’s eyebrows moved slightly, looking somewhat surprised, but remained silent.
Fu Shen understood: this person said “nothing”, but his face was writing “I have something, I won’t say it, come and coax me”.
He thought: “I’ve spoiled you.”
But he continued to ask: “Are you really angry? Because I told you to roll away yesterday?”
Yan Xiaohan made a disdainful “hmph” sound through his nose.
Fu Shen suppressed his laughter, with a face that said, “Since you’re asking me to, I’ll reluctantly comfort you”: “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have told you to roll away. You’re a big man, don’t take it to heart, okay?”
Yan Xiaohan stared at him, staring until Fu Shen’s goosebumps rose, and he steeled himself to meet his gaze. After a moment, Yan Xiaohan suddenly turned away and burst out laughing.
Fu Shen secretly breathed a sigh of relief, raised his hand to touch his slightly burning ear, and thought inexplicably: “Am I sick? Why don’t I just let him be angry?”
Yan Xiaohan took a while to stop laughing. Fu Shen’s previously feigned tenderness had completely disappeared, glancing at him coolly: “Are you done throwing a tantrum?”
Yan Xiaohan cupped his hands: “Okay. Thank you, my lord, for your consideration.”
Fu Shen snorted and turned his wheelchair towards the door: “How old are you? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
That night, the two who had made up again gathered in the bedroom.
There was nothing serious; it had become a habit for Yan Xiaohan to check on him before sleeping. In recent days, Fu Shen’s changing, bathing, entering, sitting, and lying down were all personally handled by Yan Xiaohan, except for taking medicine. Since he wasn’t in the mansion during the day, after the first few days, he hadn’t personally supervised it. A quarter of an hour before bed, a maid brought medicine. Yan Xiaohan happened to be sent to the study by Fu Shen to find a book. When he returned, Fu Shen was leaning on the bed, and the medicine bowl on the table was already empty.
Yan Xiaohan always felt something was wrong. He handed the book to Fu Shen and looked suspiciously at the medicine bowl. Fu Shen noticed his gaze and casually asked: “What are you looking at?”
Yan Xiaohan turned his face, his gaze like a dragonfly touching water, sweeping past Fu Shen’s face.
“Something’s not right.”
Fu Shen: “Hmm?”
Yan Xiaohan asked: “Did you drink the medicine?”
Fu Shen: “Yes.” He pointed: “The bowl is right there.”
“Keep lying,” Yan Xiaohan erupted in anger, “Do you want me to bring a mirror for you to look? Your lips are completely dry! Drinking medicine? With what, your ear holes? Didn’t the medicine treat your brain?!”
Fu Shen was speechless.
He angrily paced around the room, finally kicking a white porcelain spittoon from beside the bed, and upon looking down, caught him red-handed.
Fu Shen sat obediently on the bed, with a very sincere attitude of admitting his guilt.
Yan Xiaohan pointed at him, barely suppressing his anger, went out to order another decoction of medicine, then returned and closed the door, speaking with a stern face: “Speak. When did this start?”
Fu Shen chuckled dryly a few times: “Don’t get worked up, my cold has already recovered, whether I take the medicine or not doesn’t matter much…”
“Doesn’t matter?” Yan Xiaohan coldly retorted, “Who told you that the medicine can be skipped? Shen Yice? Or me?”
Fu Shen: “…”
It was clear he was trying hard not to lose his temper, all out of consideration that Yan Xiaohan was concerned for his health. However, that bastard who loved to expose others’ shortcomings continued to nag: “Ruining your body while young, don’t you think about what will happen when you’re old? Don’t you know how many injuries you have? If the cold isn’t treated properly, by the time you learn your lesson, it’ll be too late!”
Fu Shen’s head was aching from his nagging. He had a stubborn and decisive side to his personality, and no one had dared to scold him like this for many years. Originally feeling guilty, Yan Xiaohan’s words instead provoked his rebellious nature. Fu Shen impatiently waved his hand: “Enough, going on and on.”
Thinking carefully, since returning to the capital, the situation had been rapidly deteriorating – ambushes, assassinations, conspiracies, the emperor’s arranged marriage. Each matter was enough to make one worry and toss and turn. Yet now, it was actually these trivial matters that made two grown men argue and then make up like children playing house.
Fu Shen, with his iron-like backbone, and Yan Xiaohan, with his deep scheming, were just human, with full emotional range.
All because this was “home”.
Chapter 16 Leaving the Capital | Ten Miles of Red Dowry, Surely Not Betraying You
Not long after, a maidservant brought in the newly decocted medicine. Yan Xiaohan personally received it, bringing it to Fu Shen with a concise command: “Drink.”
Fu Shen looked at the steaming medicinal soup with a look of despair, silently gathering his courage.
Yan Xiaohan saw his expression and couldn’t help but laugh, teasing: “My lord, if your leg wasn’t lame, would you have already run away by now?”
“Get out,” Fu Shen glared at Yan Xiaohan: “Stop nagging. Just put the medicine down, I’ll drink it myself!”
Yan Xiaohan truly hadn’t expected drinking medicine to be so difficult. After all, in his eyes, Fu Shen had always been quite disciplined, never shirking what needed to be done, almost never willful.
He softened his voice to coax: “It’s not a large dose of medicine. Just close your eyes, grit your teeth, and it’ll be gone in a few sips, truly.”
Fu Shen painfully turned his head away.
“Are you afraid it’s bitter? Is it really that unpalatable?” Yan Xiaohan picked up the bowl and tasted it himself, frowning slightly. It was indeed bitter but not unbearable. Why was Fu Shen so resistant?
“This doesn’t make sense,” he observed Fu Shen’s pale lips and face, frowning and barely enduring. He guessed he might be nauseated by the medicine’s smell. He put the medicine bowl aside, took Fu Shen’s hands, and gently rubbed the Neiguan acupoint on his wrist, tentatively asking: “Ordinary people wouldn’t have such a big reaction, especially not you. Is there something unspeakable? Can you tell me?”
