BLPSG Chapter 89: My beloved minister

Wen Qingci had never realized that Xie Bufeng was so skilled at pushing boundaries.

Ever since that day, whenever the poison acted up, Xie Bufeng would cling to him, holding him as if he were an antidote and refusing to let go.

There was not a trace of imperial dignity left in him.

Though it was late summer, the heat had not eased at all.

Xie Bufeng was tall and broad enough to wrap Wen Qingci completely in his arms, and his embrace was scorching.

Even Wen Qingci, whose unusual constitution kept his body temperature lower than most, felt uncomfortably warm.

Yet he did not push Xie Bufeng away.

He applied the same rigor and seriousness he used in medicine to this situation.

He treated the embrace as an experiment, and after several trials finally confirmed… he did not seem to dislike being held by Xie Bufeng.

* * *

The imperial physician arrived on time with the freshly decocted medicine.

The prescriptions Wen Qingci sent each day were always different.

It was the same physician as before, but today he finally refrained from chatting about irrelevant things.

After setting the medicine down, he couldn’t help asking, “The prescriptions you write are all heavy doses. May I ask who taught you? This style… I’ve never seen it before.”

Wen Qingci removed the lid of the food container and replied, “The heavy doses were not taught by my master.”

“I see.” The young physician’s eyes lit up. “So you developed them yourself.”

Wen Qingci gave a soft smile. “Something like that.”

Without the white veil covering his face, his voice sounded clear and smooth, like jade beads falling onto a plate.

…What an extraordinary presence.

The young physician’s mind blanked for a moment, his ears turning red.

He cleared his throat hastily. “To be honest, many people in the Medical Bureau are very interested in your prescriptions and in what happened in Lianhe. They want to learn from you.”

“Learn from me?” Wen Qingci paused, his hands stilling.

His reputation as the “Rakshasa” had been too notorious. Even within the Medical Bureau, colleagues had always kept their distance.

He had never imagined that one day someone would be interested in his methods.

Realizing his tone had been too sharp, he added, “You are an imperial physician. Why would you learn from me?”

Though no one said it aloud, palace physicians always looked down on those without formal lineage.

The young man smiled. “Your methods in Lianhe have already been spread by His Majesty across the provinces. This is the kind of thing that founds a school.”

Plague outbreaks occurred almost every year in different places and in different forms.

Before this year, the common people could only accept death when plague struck.

Until Wen Qingci appeared, and for the first time, there was an answer.

Unlike the past, when he fought alone and was misunderstood, everything he did in Lianhe was backed by the authorities, even by the emperor himself.

Xie Bufeng was using imperial power to make the world accept Wen Qingci’s medical concepts.

So the young physician’s words were not exaggerated.

What Wen Qingci did in Lianhe had already spread widely.

Because of its success, some people no longer resisted dissection.

After all, compared to dying whole, they preferred to live.

The entire Wei dynasty’s understanding of medicine was quietly shifting because of this.

From this perspective, Wen Qingci truly had founded a new path.

The young physician looked at him with eager anticipation.

After a moment of thought, Wen Qingci finally said slowly, “When the ingredients are too many, the treatment becomes chaotic. A prescription should avoid such excess.”

He had never encountered someone interested in his formulas.

Seeing the physician’s curiosity, he began analyzing each ingredient one by one.

“…Makes sense.” The young physician could only nod repeatedly.

Wen Qingci glanced at the bowl of medicine and added, “If I’m not mistaken, though the decoction is good, the soaking time was still a bit short.”

In the Wei dynasty, few people paid attention to this.

“You mean I should soak it longer?”

Wen Qingci nodded. “Yes. A longer soak allows the components to dissolve properly.”

“I understand, I understand.” The physician nodded quickly, then said with some embarrassment, “It seems today’s medicine still isn’t up to your standards. I’ll improve it tomorrow.”

His decoction was already excellent. It was simply that Wen Qingci’s standards were too sharp.

But seeing how eager he was for tomorrow’s prescription, Wen Qingci smiled lightly. “All right.”

Having endured hardship together in Lianhe, the two had some camaraderie. After discussing the prescription, the physician asked cautiously, “How long do you plan to stay in Yongdu this time?”

Then he suddenly remembered something. “Ah… why am I asking you? It’s not up to you. It depends on when His Majesty is willing to let you go.”

He clearly still believed Wen Qingci was the substitute Xie Bufeng had brought in.

“Ah…” The physician sighed softly. “But that might actually be a good thing.”

“How so?” Wen Qingci asked.

“Not just me. Many colleagues are interested in your medical skills. If His Majesty… grows tired of you someday, or stops keeping such a close eye on you, you can come talk with us and teach us.”

Wen Qingci’s fingers twitched.

Ignoring the words “keeping an eye on,” he realized he was genuinely interested.

…His childhood memories had been a lifelong nightmare.

He did not want another Shanyujian to exist in the world.

To prevent that, he could not rely on himself alone.

Though he had only studied until his second year of university in his previous life, he still benefited from a more advanced way of thinking.

Letting that vanish with his death would be a waste.

Passing it on would be far better.

The Medical Bureau housed the best physicians of this era.

If he could exchange knowledge with them, it would be ideal.

But that also meant he would have to stay here… stay by Xie Bufeng’s side.

At that thought, Wen Qingci’s heartbeat quickened.

Seeing his hesitation, the young physician naturally placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well? Think about it.”

Wen Qingci had mild cleanliness habits and disliked close contact.

He instinctively moved to avoid the touch.

But before he could, a familiar voice sounded behind them.

Xie Bufeng, dressed in black brocade, walked out from the side hall.

“…Y, Your Majesty?”

“Long live the emperor, long live, long live, long live…”

The young physician’s vision went dark. He had just gossiped about the emperor’s scandal right in front of him.

Xie Bufeng didn’t spare him a glance. He simply pulled Wen Qingci into his arms and murmured, “…Tired of you?”

His voice was slow, as if savoring the words.

Then, right in front of the physician, he whispered into Wen Qingci’s ear, “I will never tire of you. I… only fear that one day you will tire of me.”

His tone was full of anxious longing.

As he spoke, he tightened his arms, holding Wen Qingci even closer.

Every movement revealed his unease.

The young physician, kneeling on the ground, stared wide‑eyed.

His Majesty… afraid of being disliked?

…Was this a joke?

Xie Bufeng lowered his voice, brushing his lips against Wen Qingci’s. Only the two of them could hear him. “Will you?”

“W… what?” Wen Qingci’s body had gone weak and numb.

He could barely stand, his mind blank.

He heard Xie Bufeng whisper, “Will you tire of me?”

Wen Qingci had once feared him, once avoided him, but now he realized… he had never truly disliked him.

In that instant, the scalpel in his heart seemed to sink deeper.

He understood clearly that he had never been tired of Xie Bufeng.

“No.”

Wen Qingci lifted his gaze, meeting those pale amber eyes.

His voice was utterly sincere.

The next moment, Xie Bufeng lost control. One arm wrapped around Wen Qingci’s waist, the other lifted his veil, and he pressed a gentle, emotionless kiss to Wen Qingci’s eyes.

Wen Qingci did not know how important his answer was to Xie Bufeng.

Nor how deeply the emperor feared hearing the word “tired” from him.

Even poisoned, his physical condition was still far better than Wen Qingci’s.

Xie Bufeng lowered his gaze and shook his head lightly. “That is because I once drank your blood.”

When Wen Qingci moved to stand, Xie Bufeng suddenly took his left hand gently.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked softly.

His eyes were filled with guilt and tenderness.

Back then, Wen Qingci’s bleeding would not stop no matter what they tried. They had been forced to seal the acupoints with silver needles.

Xie Bufeng had watched with his own eyes as the cold, half‑hand‑long needles pierced into Wen Qingci’s arm, as if they would go straight through him.

As he spoke, Xie Bufeng lifted Wen Qingci’s sleeve.

His left arm was covered in scars.

On the pale skin, aside from the snake bite marks, the wounds left by the silver needles were still faintly visible.

“It stopped hurting long ago.” Wen Qingci pressed down on Xie Bufeng’s restless hand. He did not want those scars exposed. “My arm is scarred. It looks unsightly.”

“Not unsightly.” Xie Bufeng shook his head stubbornly. He looked into Wen Qingci’s eyes. “Qingci has never had anything to do with the word ‘ugly’.”

His tone was so earnest, without a trace of teasing or flirtation.

Yet it was precisely that sincerity that caught Wen Qingci off guard.

Especially the way he said “Qingci”… like a feather brushing lightly across his heart.

He did not even know when Xie Bufeng had begun calling him that.

Wen Qingci pulled his hand back with a small effort. “Your Majesty, there should be distinction between ruler and subject. You should call me…” Physician Wen.

But Xie Bufeng was faster.

The moment the words “distinction between ruler and subject” left Wen Qingci’s lips, Xie Bufeng naturally added two more. “My beloved minister.”

His voice was quiet, falling against Wen Qingci’s ear like a whisper.

Beloved minister?

It was a standard imperial address. Nothing strange about it.

But coming from Xie Bufeng now, it carried a subtle, indescribable intimacy.

In an instant, Wen Qingci was pulled back to the day Xie Bufeng had said “Beloved minister, rise.”

Wen Qingci: “…”

Even the dullest person would notice that Xie Bufeng was teasing him.

If his tone had been playful, it might have been easier to ignore. But Xie Bufeng’s expression was serious, almost solemn.

The combination made it even more devastating.

The air around them seemed to heat up.

Wen Qingci instinctively wanted to escape.

He had just risen from the stool by the bed and had not yet picked up his medicine box when footsteps suddenly sounded outside the hall.

“Reporting to Your Majesty, the Chiye King and Ahe King of the Northern Di request an audience.”

Though still recovering, Xie Bufeng could not delay state affairs.

He still had to attend court, review memorials, and meet those who needed to be seen.

“Let them in,” Xie Bufeng said calmly.

Seeing this, Wen Qingci immediately lifted his medicine box, ready to leave the side hall.

But in the next moment, Xie Bufeng raised a hand to stop him. “Beloved minister, no need to avoid them.”

Before Wen Qingci could react, Xie Bufeng wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him onto the bed.

As Wen Qingci lost balance, Xie Bufeng brushed a fingertip across his lips, blocking the startled sound that almost escaped.

The side hall had once been part of the Medical Bureau, but its furnishings were anything but simple.

The priceless huanghuali bed glowed under the lamplight.

The carved five‑clawed dragon on the frame was a constant reminder of the owner’s identity… the reigning emperor.

It was a dragon bed. Only the emperor was allowed to use it.

The footsteps outside grew louder as the two Northern Di Kings approached under the eunuch’s guidance.

Wen Qingci was startled by Xie Bufeng’s actions and whispered urgently, “Your Majesty, let me go. This is far too improper.”

If not for Xie Bufeng’s hand still holding his waist, he would have fled already.

“All of Wei knows that Physician Wen Qingci is mine,” Xie Bufeng whispered back, lowering his voice to match Wen Qingci’s. “With you sitting here, what impropriety is there?”

Wen Qingci tried to struggle.

But Xie Bufeng’s strength was not something he could resist.

The beaded curtain, heavy with gems, rattled sharply with Wen Qingci’s movements, completely scattering his composure.

At that moment, the Chiye King and Ahe King entered the hall.

They were representatives of the Northern Di nobles who had submitted to Wei, here for their routine audience.

As subjects, they could not raise their heads without permission.

Having already submitted to Wei, they heard the constant rattling of the beads but did not dare look up to see that two people were sitting on the dragon bed.

They bowed with hands over their chests, saluting Xie Bufeng.

Seeing them arrive, Wen Qingci immediately froze, even holding his breath, terrified of being discovered.

“We greet Your Majesty. Long live the emperor, long live, long live…”

The Northern Di nobles had learned to use the official language to greet him.

“Rise.”

Xie Bufeng’s hand brushed Wen Qingci’s waist.

He pulled the man who kept trying to slip away closer, preventing him from falling off the edge of the bed.

He whispered, “Beloved minister, lean closer. You might fall.”

Then he lifted his gaze and asked calmly, “How are the pastures in the Northern Di this summer? Are the grasses abundant?”

His tone shifted instantly into formal authority, as if he had not been whispering into Wen Qingci’s ear a moment ago.

He went straight to the point. The two kings dared not delay and immediately delivered their prepared report.

Their accents were heavy, but Wen Qingci, forced to remain here, soon understood their meaning. It was also the first time he learned how Xie Bufeng controlled the Northern Di.

In the past, the tribes wandered aimlessly across the land, following water and grass.

After conquering them, Xie Bufeng divided the territory into hundreds of districts.

Each district had a fixed population and could not cross borders at will.

If one district suffered a disaster, the court would transport grass from other districts. This was the policy of “moving grass, not people.”

Over time, interaction between districts weakened, preventing the formation of a unified, powerful force like in the past.

The two kings were here to report the summer conditions and await the court’s allocation.

It was land he had conquered himself.

Xie Bufeng knew every blade of grass in the Northern Di.

He did not even look at a map before accurately planning the transport routes.

His low voice echoed through the side hall.

Unhurried and steady, carrying the natural authority of an emperor.

Through the gently swaying beaded curtain, Wen Qingci saw that even the Chiye King and Ahe King looked at Xie Bufeng with unconcealed admiration.

And whenever Xie Bufeng paused, a flicker of fear crossed their faces.

Wen Qingci had to admit that although Xie Bufeng was reckless in private, he was exceptionally competent as a ruler.

He was a true sovereign who held real power over the world.

Only… these two kings likely never imagined that the emperor of Wei was not nearly as proper as they thought.

The Chiye King continued, “This summer’s vegetables have already been shipped from Changyuan. They should arrive in Molu County within seven days.”

The moment the word “Changyuan” left his mouth, Xie Bufeng’s hand tightened instinctively around Wen Qingci’s waist.

Wen Qingci’s waist was sensitive. His body reacted before he could think, trembling slightly at the pressure.

His elbow bumped the beaded curtain, sending another sharp cascade of rattling sounds through the hall.

The two men standing below the steps instinctively lifted their heads.

And saw…

Behind the curtain studded with gems and coral, two blurred figures sitting together.

“!!”

They exchanged a look, both seeing shock and something ambiguous in the other’s eyes.

If they were not mistaken, the person sitting beside the emperor was a man.

Even in the distant Northern Di, they had heard the rumors that the emperor of Wei favored men.

It was said his beloved had already passed away.

Could the one behind the curtain be his new favorite?

While his companion spoke, Ahe King could not resist lifting his eyes for a quick glance.

As the beaded curtain stilled, he clearly saw a pale, slender figure seated beside Xie Bufeng on the dragon bed.

His features were cool and refined, with a touch of cinnabar between his brows, resembling the statues in Wei’s temple murals.

Ahe King had long since been beaten into submission by Xie Bufeng and sincerely acknowledged him as his ruler.

But that did not mean he was willing to bow to a male favorite.

He thought with disdain, “Just a bed companion… how did he get to sit there? And even receive my salute. When His Majesty grows tired of him, I will take him back to the North.”

Xie Bufeng narrowed his eyes.

A sharp crack sounded.

A porcelain bowl flew out from behind the beaded curtain.

The thin porcelain shattered into blades, slicing through a strand of beads.

Jewels scattered across the floor, clattering in every direction.

The bowl struck Ahe King squarely on the forehead and shattered into pieces.

“Ah—”

The porcelain edge cut his brow, and blood streamed down his face in an instant.

“My empress… is not someone your eyes may look upon.”
Xie Bufeng spoke in the Northern Di.

E… empress?

Ahe King froze, then immediately dropped to his knees, knocking his head against the floor in panic.

His hands trembled violently.

There was a hint of amusement in Xie Bufeng’s voice, but Ahe King, who had once been his enemy, knew well that the more casual and smiling the emperor sounded, the more dangerous he was.

He feared the next words would be an order to gouge out his eyes.

Within seconds, a pool of blood formed on the floor.

“What is he doing?” Wen Qingci was startled by Ahe King’s frantic kowtowing.

“Nothing.” Xie Bufeng did not want Wen Qingci to know what the man had been thinking.

By now, the Chiye King had finished his report, and Xie Bufeng had issued his instructions.

Seeing the blood on the floor, he finally said in the Northern Di with faint disgust, “Leave. My empress does not like this smell.”

“Yes, yes!”

Ahe King scrambled up and retreated with the Chiye King, even wiping the blood from the floor with his sleeve before leaving.

Incense burned in the hall, and within moments the scent of blood faded.

Wen Qingci finally let out a quiet breath.

They were gone.

He was about to stand and leave as well.

But Xie Bufeng leaned close and murmured in his ear, “The Northern summer is not like Yongdu. Even at noon, there is a chill in the air. When the rains are good, the grass grows to a man’s waist, and the meltwater from the snow mountains runs through the pastures… Next year, I will take you there.”

As he finished speaking, he could not resist gently biting Wen Qingci’s earlobe. His breath faltered. “We can return to Changyuan as well… back to the city lord’s manor.”

Changyuan. The city lord’s manor.

Everything that had happened there was still carved clearly into Wen Qingci’s memory.

After that confession, Xie Bufeng had stopped hiding the darker thoughts he harbored toward Wen Qingci.

Everything reminded Wen Qingci that he could no longer treat Xie Bufeng as a child.

He no longer needed pity.

He was an adult. A dangerous adult with desire and obsession.

A man who had walked the battlefield and knew better than anyone how to conquer.

He did not know what Wen Qingci had been thinking when he returned to Yongdu, but everything he did was pushing Wen Qingci to face his own heart… and testing his limits.

The memories of Changyuan surged up again.

And Xie Bufeng reluctantly released his earlobe.

Wen Qingci shot to his feet, stepping back half a pace.

He turned away and said coldly, “Your Majesty… how can you do such things in a place like this?”

He tried to sound stern, but the words came out with a faint tremor.

His cheeks flushed.

Realizing his state was wrong, Wen Qingci immediately turned and walked toward the exit with his medicine box.

Xie Bufeng understood perfectly well what he meant, but deliberately twisted the meaning. “So my beloved minister thinks this place is not formal enough?”

His face remained cold, his voice low and calm, as if discussing official matters.

Wen Qingci had already reached the doorway when his steps faltered.

He found himself thinking, almost reflexively… what would count as formal?

Realizing what he had just been imagining, his face burned hot.