“When the former emperor issued an edict to bestow marriage upon me, with golden words known throughout the world,” Fu Shen put down his teacup coolly, “It’s true that Master Yan serves the new dynasty, but he is my man. Even the emperor of the new dynasty must respect the order of precedence. I want him to stay here, and he cannot take even a single hair out of this door. General Zhao, do you understand my meaning?”
Chapter 68: Dust of Expedition ┃ Look at Someone’s Father Yan Xiaohang quietly played the role of a calamity, pretending not to understand the undercurrent between Fu Shen and Zhao Xicheng.
The contradictory relationship between the Northern Yan army and the new dynasty came to light. Although Fu Shen wanted to reclaim the rivers and mountains, he couldn’t let the new dynasty pick up the leftovers while he fought at the front, ultimately ending up with nothing but a reputation for “loyalty”.
Emperor Yantai’s evaluation of Fu Shen was “loyal to the world but not to the monarch”. Although he imagined Fu Shen to be overly ambitious, this statement was quite accurate. Fu Shen had been willing to bow to Emperor Yantai out of old feelings, but it was different with Sun Yuanduan. Just because of the new emperor’s treatment of Fu Ling, Fu Shen would never let it go.
Moreover, Emperor Yantai was still safely in Shu Prefecture. Fu Shen’s previous non-interference in succession did not mean he would not intervene in the future to determine who would sit on the throne.
Zhao Xicheng was drenched in cold sweat by Fu Shen’s words, feeling he shouldn’t have brought up Yan Xiaohang and that they should have just discussed how to attack Chang’an.
General Zhao didn’t understand the relationship between Yan and Fu, nor could he grasp Fu Shen’s intention of keeping Yan Xiaohang. However, the legend of “court dogs harming the loyal” was too deeply rooted, so he coldly assumed Yan Xiaohang was being punished for his previous misdeeds.
“I understand the lord’s meaning,” Zhao Xicheng said sincerely. “Since Master Yan has no objections… I’ll follow the lord’s arrangements.”
A light laugh suddenly broke the silence. Yan Xiaohang slowly raised his head, meeting their gazes with a mirthless smile: “Fine. Let’s do it this way.”
After Zhao Xicheng left, Fu Shen dropped his cold expression and shook his head, laughing: “Master Yan, it seems your reputation is truly bad. You’re so easily discarded without hesitation.”
Yan Xiaohang also shook his head: “I never thought ‘forceful seizure’ would happen to me one day.”
“What forceful seizure?” Fu Shen said. “Don’t slander me. It was clearly a proper marriage.”
Yan Xiaohang couldn’t help but laugh, his heart melting like water, stickily moving in for a kiss. Fu Shen kissed his lip corner, but was bitten back by Yan Xiaohang, who firmly pressed him on the wheelchair and kissed him thoroughly.
A few days later, the battle for Chang’an officially began.
Behind him, a sudden sound of wind breaking came. He glanced back with his peripheral vision and saw a cold blade slashing diagonally towards his back, where the protective deputy was trying to rush forward to save him.
Yan Xiaohan’s second blade was already approaching the protector’s neck. At this moment, pulling back would mean failure.
He did not look away or defend, his eyes fixed only on the pulsing blood vessels beneath the skin of the neck, fully intending to take the hit just to claim the man’s head!
A spray of blood splattered, and the tactile sensation of the blade cutting through bone seemed to linger at his fingertips. A head with bulging, angry eyes fell beneath the horse’s hooves, but the expected pain from behind did not arrive as anticipated.
“What are you spacing out for? Haven’t you killed anyone before!”
Yan Xiaohan turned back in a daze to find Fu Shen had somehow appeared behind him, a headless corpse lying at his feet. With one hand holding the reins and the other gripping the knife, blood still dripping from the blade tip, his face beneath the helmet was beautiful and stern, his piercing gaze drilling into the depths of one’s heart.
He seemed about to curse but held back, instead coldly saying, “Come here, stay with me, don’t run around. Next time won’t be this lucky.”
The just-now-heroic Yan, who had killed a Tartar general with two strikes, was now as obedient as a trained dog, promptly urging his horse over.
Fu Shen, with a serious expression, gave orders for the front army to hold long knives and form a wall. The Northern Yan cavalry had cleared the ambush troops, and with the main protector killed, the Tartar cavalry lost their initiative, their attack slowing down.
At this moment, the Xiangzhou army arrived from behind, flanking the Northern Yan army, dramatically turning the battlefield situation.
The battle lasted four hours, with the Han army beheading tens of thousands and finally annihilating the main Tartar cavalry force. The remaining defeated troops abandoned the city and fled.
At the hour of xu, Fu Shen dispatched a team to pursue the remnant soldiers. The three armies reorganized and entered the city, with citizens lining the streets, cheering and weeping, offering wine and food to honor the troops. Chang’an was liberated.
Counting casualties, arranging city patrols, dealing with various officials… Fu Shen was busy all night, with Yan Xiaohan staying by his side. As dawn broke and the Northern Yan army returned with captured Tartar leaders imprisoned in the government office, the chaos subsided, and everyone, exhausted, went to rest.
They were staying in an official’s residence, far better than the broken house in Tangli Town. Yan Xiaohan, unusually fastidious, washed repeatedly to remove the bloody smell. Returning to the bedroom, he found Fu Shen, who had finished washing earlier, already asleep leaning against the headboard.
Only now did he feel his heartbeat, rhythmic and almost melodic. The cacophony of battle cries had finally receded, subtle sounds entering his ears, as if returning from a hell of carnage to the human world, coming alive again.
He stood dazed for a moment until Fu Shen’s breathing stopped, and he lazily asked with closed eyes: “What, being punished to stand?”
“Hmm?” Yan Xiaohan suddenly came to his senses, walked to the bed, moved Fu Shen to the inner side, and lay down beside him: “Why are you awake?”
“You were standing there in a daze, how could I not wake up?” Fu Shen covered a yawn, turned, and hugged his shoulder, touching the scar: “Today… no, yesterday, you were too careless. I’ll let it go this time, but remember it yourself.”
“I was too anxious,” Yan Xiaohan obediently admitted his mistake, embracing Fu Shen’s slender back through a thin layer of clothing, softly asking: “But how did you discover it? We were so far apart.”
Fu Shen didn’t directly answer, casually saying: “If you got stabbed right under my nose, I might as well not live either. I’m tired, let’s sleep.”
Yan Xiaohan didn’t press further, feeling he had inadvertently touched a hidden tenderness beneath Fu Shen’s armor.
Raised in the capital and never having been to the battlefield, his combat experience was practically nil. Though not required to fight as a military supervisor, Fu Shen insisted on keeping him close to watch over him, preventing accidental injury.
“How can you be so good?”
Yan Xiaohan looked at Fu Shen’s sleeping face, feeling as if he could vaguely taste the sweetness of osmanthus sugar.
After matters in Chang’an settled, Yan Xiaohan found an excuse to take Fu Shen out of the city. They walked slowly along the mountain path, seeing mountains in full bloom. When they reached halfway up the mountain, a white marble carved archway appeared at the end of the tree-shaded path.
Fu Shen squinted from afar: “Qinglian Pool? What place is this?”
