BLPSG Chapter 59: Holding him

 

The last time they met, it was too hasty and he didn’t have time to observe.

 

At this moment, Wen Qingci finally realized that Xie Bufeng had rapidly matured through one war after another.

 

The boyish naivety had completely faded, replaced by a demeanor as steady and sharp as a heavy sword, exuding an imposing aura.

 

The ambition to be an emperor is just beginning to emerge, and the demeanor of a warlord is already evident.

 

Wen Qingci was momentarily lost in thought.

 

But the next second, his attention was drawn back by a faint pain on his delicate wrist.

 

Then came the ambiguous rubbing.

 

The warmth from Xie Bufeng’s touch spread throughout his body.

 

In an instant, memories of that night in Changyuan flooded back to life.

 

The dim red light, shards of glass…

 

Wen Qingci quickly averted his gaze, attempting to pull his wrist from Xie Bufeng’s grasp.

 

“Your Highness, you should continue forward,” Wen Qingci forced a smile, suppressing his emotions as he spoke calmly.

 

Finally, the young man loosened his grip, albeit reluctantly.

 

Xie Bufeng’s gaze remained fixed on him, unwavering.

 

Fine snow settled on Wen Qingci’s long eyelashes, crystallizing with each breath.

 

His ink-black eyes held a hint of moisture from the cold breeze.

 

To Xie Bufeng, it seemed both pitiable and tempting.

 

It makes people feel distressed and want to bully.

 

Almost instinctively, the young man raised his hand to wipe away the snow.

 

But that hand hesitated in midair, as if recoiling from an electric shock, before withdrawing and turning away.

 

“Rise—” Taken aback by Xie Bufeng’s unexpected behavior, the court officials signaled for everyone to bow, and the procession continued into the palace.

 

Wen Qingci, who had stood out conspicuously, finally blended into the crowd.

 

Like a lamb being returned to the pack after being chased by wolves, he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Today, Xie Bufeng was undoubtedly the center of attention. Their recent interaction had not gone unnoticed by those outside the palace.

 

After all, Wen Qingci had sent Xie Bufeng to the battlefield, initially a seemingly hopeless situation.

 

Naturally, everyone assumed that Xie Bufeng, having returned victorious, would harbor resentment toward Wen Qingci.

 

And now, they perceived their interaction as a threat.

 

As Xie Bufeng turned away and continued walking, Wen Qingci noticed the disdainful glances and amused expressions from those around him.

 

Once a physician, he had risen to the rank of third-grade Hanlin scholar, arousing envy. Add to that the emperor’s fondness for seeking his advice… inadvertently, Wen Qingci had offended many.

 

These people not only wanted to witness his downfall but seemed to wish for his demise.

 

The snow intensified, chilling to the bone.

 

Unperturbed by the malicious intent, Wen Qingci kept his eyes forward and pressed on.

 

The day’s primary event was the rewarding of the heroes.

 

The emperor, unusually generous, bestowed vast estates and wealth upon those who had distinguished themselves in battle.

 

Several generals were appointed to guard the northern frontier.

 

Naturally, Xie Bufeng received the most rewards. The imperial edict was densely filled with honors, and the eunuch’s voice grew hoarse as he read it aloud.

 

At first listen, it seemed the emperor had emptied half the treasury for Xie Bufeng.

 

Yet, everyone marveled at this display of paternal love and filial piety, conveniently forgetting that the emperor had insisted on sending Xie Bufeng to the battlefield.

 

After receiving the reward, the young man looked down at the imperial edict in his hand with disdain.

 

The reason why the emperor was so generous was that in his heart, he was destined to die tomorrow.

 

These gold, silver and treasures will not even leave the national treasury. They are just displayed here as a formality.

 

…

 

After the rewards ceremony, the celebration banquet began in the afternoon and continued late into the night.

 

The Imperial Guard had never hosted such a grand feast. In addition to civil and military officials, soldiers who had returned with Xie Bufeng from the north were also present.

 

The emperor had retired early, citing ill health.

 

With the soldiers around, the atmosphere at the banquet was livelier than usual.

 

Xie Bufeng sat at the table, and the stream of well-wishers offering toasts never ceased.

 

At some point, someone had replaced the palace’s fine wine with the potent liquor brought from the north.

 

Within moments, the officials of Yongdu were intoxicated.

 

Urged on by the alcohol, they crowded around Xie Bufeng, attempting to get him drunk.

 

“Cheers to His Highness! To the man who led our troops and wiped away a century of shame in the Central Plains—”

 

The inebriated minister finished his toast, downing the fiery liquor in one gulp.

 

Amidst the lively atmosphere, a small head appeared next to Xie Bufeng. Xie Fuyin, who had somehow slipped in, looked up at him curiously. “Brother, isn’t it spicy?”

 

Although her words were questioning, her eyes held nothing but admiration.

 

Xie Bufeng was taken aback.

 

His little sister seemed genuinely unafraid.

 

“It’s not spicy,” the young man smiled and gently rubbed Xie Fuyin’s head. Finally, seeing that the little girl was still staring at the wine cup on his table, he asked teasingly, “Would you like to try it?” he seemed to be in a good mood.

 

“No, no, no!” Xie Fuyin shook her head like a rattle and quickly took a half step back. “Master Wen said that drinking is not good for us.” She said seriously.

 

Seeing this, everyone around started laughing.

 

The three words “Master Wen” made Xie Bufeng’s smile freeze for a moment.

 

He subconsciously wanted to ask Xie Fuyin something, but the girl hurriedly slipped away as if she was afraid that he would make her drink.

 

The young man finally couldn’t help it and allowed himself to look for Wen Qingci here.

 

His gaze passed over the crowd and fell on a corner of the banquet hall.

 

Before they knew it, their identities had been swapped.

 

Wen Qingci finally put on his cloak. He sat alone by the window, without moving anything on the table.

 

A gentle breeze blew in from the window behind, slowly lifting up the corner of his clothes.

 

……What’s up with him?

 

Is he feeling unwell or is the food not to the taste?

 

On the way back, he reminded himself to restrain himself from taking the initiative to look for Wen Qingci.

 

But now, Xie Bufeng wavered with just a glance.

 

As he hesitated about whether to approach, a familiar figure appeared in his line of sight.

 

Su Yuzheng, Xie Bufeng’s cousin, had also been invited to the celebration banquet.

 

However, she wasn’t there to congratulate Xie Bufeng, instead, she stood before Wen Qingci.

 

With concern, she asked, “Wen Xiansheng, are you all right?”

 

Su Yuzheng had noticed that Wen Qingci’s plate remained untouched since the banquet began.

 

Su Yuzheng’s feelings were very obvious.

 

Wen Qingci hadn’t meant for this, so apart from their chance encounter at the clinic, he had deliberately kept his distance from Su Yuzheng.

 

“It’s nothing,” Wen Qingci shook his head. “Miss Su’s concern is appreciated.”

 

The cold wind left his head feeling heavy, and he had no appetite.

 

His chest itched intermittently, but he suppressed the urge to cough. However, a strong metallic taste lingered in his mouth.

 

“How can this be?” Concerned about Wen Qingci’s deteriorating condition, Su Yuzheng suggested, “Maybe I should inform my aunt—perhaps you should rest.”

 

Before Su Yuzheng could finish her sentence, footsteps interrupted her.

 

Xie Bufeng arrived.

 

Having removed his armor, the young general deliberately blocked the light, leaving Wen Qingci in darkness.

 

“Why is Miss Su here?” Xie Bufeng addressed Su Yuzheng, but his gaze remained fixed on Wen Qingci’s face. “When did you two become so familiar?”

 

… Perhaps it was his imagination, but Wen Qingci detected a hint of grievance in Xie Bufeng’s words.

 

Su Yuzheng hesitated, then turned to Xie Bufeng and bowed. “We… aren’t exactly familiar. We’ve only met a few times outside the palace.”

 

“Outside the palace?” Xie Bufeng narrowed his eyes.

 

Su Yuzheng glanced back at him, puzzled. Why did her cousin’s words sound so resentful?

 

And why did she sense such intense hostility?

 

Refusing to be intimidated, Su Yuzheng retorted, “Yes, at a clinic. What’s the matter, Your Highness?”

 

Meeting at a clinic was entirely normal, and Su Yuzheng’s tone betrayed no guilt.

 

But the animosity emanating from Xie Bufeng seemed to intensify.

 

She instinctively stepped back, trying to put some distance between herself and him.

 

The atmosphere grew eerie.

 

At that moment, Su Yuzheng’s grandmother noticed the scene.

 

Assuming Su Yuzheng was interrupting an important conversation between Xie Bufeng and Wen Qingci, she called her back. “Yuzheng! Come back here!”

 

As the girl in light-pink reluctantly left, the banquet hall was now empty except for Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng.

 

Calm down, stay calm!

 

Wen Qingci repeated the mantra to himself, then finally raised his eyes and smiled at Xie Bufeng. “May I inquire what His Highness seeks from me?”

 

His tone remained gentle, but his voice had grown slightly hoarse.

 

Amidst the clinking of cups and fragrant scents, reality faded like a distant memory from another world.

 

Seated behind the table, Wen Qingci belatedly attempted a formal bow.

 

But Xie Bufeng seemed to anticipate his move, placing his fingers gently on Wen Qingci’s shoulder, interrupting the gesture.

 

Leaning down, Xie Bufeng closed the gap between them to half an arm’s length.

 

From behind, Wen Qingci looked like prey pinned beneath the young man, unable to escape.

 

Xie Bufeng’s eyes narrowed, and he allowed himself to greedily inhale.

 

The familiar bitterness enveloped him like mist.

 

“It seems Wen Xiansheng has made quite a few friends during this time. Life seems to be treating you well,” Xie Bufeng murmured near Wen Qingci’s ear.

 

His deliberately lowered, slow voice sounded dangerously intimate.

 

The airflow created by his words brushed against Wen Qingci’s neck, causing a faint shiver.

 

Memories of that night in the north intruded once again into Wen Qingci’s mind.

 

“…,” Wen Qingci forced himself to adjust his breathing, feigning composure. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. My days… are as usual.”

 

Most of the banquet guests were now intoxicated, their eyes burning into Wen Qingci.

 

Xie Bufeng chuckled softly.

 

Wen Qingci caught a faint whiff of alcohol.

 

“Are you drunk?”

 

Xie Bufeng recalled how he had pretended to be intoxicated in front of Wen Qingci at Songxiu Manor.

 

Although Xie Bufeng’s mind remained sharp, he deliberately didn’t deny Wen Qingci’s words.

 

Even those dirty, dark and shameful thoughts that had been hidden in his heart for who knows how long were awakened by this misunderstanding.

 

The young man took advantage of this misunderstanding and tightly grasped Wen Qingci’s right hand.

 

“Your Highness, what are you doing?!” Wen Qingci’s words finally carried a hint of urgency. “This is the Taishu Palace.” He reminded him.

 

But Xie Bufeng seemed not to hear his warning.

 

The young man held Wen Qingci’s hand firmly and pressed it against his own back, touching the scars there.

 

Their bodies pressed closely together in that instant.

 

Even through their winter clothes, Wen Qingci could feel their hearts racing and breaths intertwining.

 

From behind, their posture appeared exceedingly ambiguous.

 

—The young man imprisoned Wen Qingci in his embrace, while the moon-white imperial physician trembled, his hand resting on Xie Bufeng’s back.

 

The palace banquet fell silent at that moment.

 

All eyes widened, fixed on them.

 

“Your Highness, you’re drunk. Please get up,” Wen Qingci whispered.

 

Xie Bufeng shook his head, using the “wine strength” to speak in a volume only they could hear. “I’ve suffered many wounds. I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

Even through the thick winter garments, Wen Qingci could sense the faint scars on Xie Bufeng’s back.

 

The severity of those scars was unimaginable.

 

Wen Qingci’s fingers recoiled as if scorched by fire, but Xie Bufeng held them tightly, rendering them immobile.

 

Xie Bufeng, who usually disdained self-pity and exposing weaknesses, had changed.

 

Despite being born without pain sensitivity, he had never considered these wounds significant.

 

But now, feeling Wen Qingci’s trembling fingers, Xie Bufeng couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

 

In just a few words, the young man painted the harsh cold of the northern lands before Wen Qingci’s eyes.

 

Unconsciously, he sought comfort and tenderness from Wen Qingci.

 

Like a wounded beast revealing its belly and displaying its wounds.

 

Someone had accidentally knocked over a wine jug earlier, and now the banquet hall was filled with the scent of alcohol.

 

Wen Qingci seemed intoxicated.

 

His hand no longer struggled.

 

Hesitating, he gently stroked Xie Bufeng’s shoulder, comforting him like a wounded animal.

 

His touch was uncharacteristically gentle.

 

The young man’s hand relaxed, surrendering to the warmth.

 

But today’s festivity was not destined to end so soon.

 

Suddenly, a heavily intoxicated soldier stumbled in, holding a wine cup.

 

He leaned against a pillar, steadying himself, and raised the cup high. “To the General, leading us to victory!”

 

The abrupt sound startled Wen Qingci, and he finally pulled his hand away.

 

Wait!!!

 

What did he just do?!

 

The slow-witted soldier noticed Wen Qingci’s presence and continued, slightly sarcastic, “And… our imperial physician. Without your recommendation, General, we wouldn’t be here today.”

 

The “enmity” between Wen Qingci and Xie Bufeng had spread throughout the army.

 

His voice carried a hint of mockery.

 

But Wen Qingci, seemingly oblivious to the emotions, took a step back and picked up the untouched wine cup from the table.

 

The icy jade cup snapped him back to his senses.

 

To regain composure, he raised the cup and took a sip.

 

The burning sensation accompanied the frigid liquid down his throat, making his chest and lungs ache.

 

He hadn’t realized—what he held in the cup wasn’t the usual mild palace wine but the same potent northern liquor Xie Bufeng had been drinking!

 

Wen Qingci coughed violently, blood escaping his lips.

 

His body suddenly lost strength and he managed to hold onto the wall to avoid falling down.

 

“Cough… It’s nothing, just an old ailment,” he said, turning away to hide his embarrassment.

 

But he didn’t expect that the young man’s hand would climb up again at some point.

 

Xie Bufeng grasped Wen Qingci’s hand, downing the fiery liquor in his hand, then threw the jade wine glass heavily aside.

 

Accompanied by a sharp sound of breaking jade.

 

Wen Qingci finally couldn’t help coughing up blood.

 

He subconsciously wanted to raise his hand to cover it, but his left hand always hung limply at his side, and his right hand was tightly grasped by Xie Bufeng, making it impossible for him to move at all.

 

The blood pierced into Xie Bufeng’s eyes like a blade.

 

Abyss: Emperor hatred value +999999