AYM Chapter 13

Warning: Dub-con(?)

As soon as they reached the entrance of Du Cheng’en’s courtyard, a strong smell of alcohol hit them, accompanied by incoherent and slurred sounds from inside, clearly they were drunken ramblings.

 

Du Yunsong apologized to Li Xuanming then stepped forward to push open the door. Upon seeing the scene inside, they were immediately dumbfounded. Du Cheng’en’s face was flushed red, his eyes hazy, and he was laughing heartily with a wine cup raised high. His arm was draped over the shoulder of someone unfamiliar but clearly a young nobleman from a distinguished family. This must be the third son of King Yan, as mentioned by the Emperor!

 

“Du Cheng’en!”

 

Upon hearing his father’s voice unexpectedly, Du Cheng’en froze. The drunken haze cleared somewhat as he struggled to focus his eyes and stood up. “Father, when did you return?”

 

Before he could finish his sentence, Du Cheng’en noticed the man standing behind his father. His jaw dropped, cold sweat broke out down his back. The alcohol instantly lost its effect as he instinctively moved to kneel in greeting.

 

“Greetings, Your Excellency!”

 

A voice came from behind, it was Eunuch Li Jiang who was accompanying Yan Yihuan. Du Cheng’en quickly swallowed the words “Your Majesty” that were about to escape his lips. After a brief pause, he hurriedly followed Li Jiang’s lead and addressed the man as “Your Excellency.”

 

But who is this “Your Excellency”? Isn’t the person before him none other than the Emperor!?

 

“Huh? Why are there suddenly so many people here?” Yan Yihuan finally noticed something was amiss. After blinking hard a few times, he suddenly broke into a wide grin. “Uncle Du!”

 

“Greetings, Third Young Master,” Du Yunsong was utterly shocked. Having been away for half a month, he had no idea Yan Yihuan had come to the capital, let alone that the Emperor would show up at his home unannounced.

 

Since returning home, he hadn’t even had the chance to sit down. The unending stream of events left even the battle-hardened Du Yunsong unsure how to react.

 

“Cheng’en ge, I really drank too much,” Yan Yihuan clung to Du Cheng’en as he tried to stand up, muttering, “I’m actually seeing a bad guy in your house.”

 

The atmosphere in the room inexplicably turned icy, especially for Du Cheng’en, who was still supporting Yan Yihuan. He could feel a sharp, blade-like gaze piercing straight into him.

 

But who was the “bad guy”?

 

Could it be… this “excellency” standing before him?

 

Du Cheng’en’s already muddled mind felt completely tangled at this moment. Someone, anyone, explain to him what in the world was going on!

 

“General Du, how do you explain this?” Li Xuanming asked with a faint smile, but Du Yunsong was drenched in cold sweat. The appearance of a member of the Yan royal family in his residence could be either a big or a small deal, it all depended on one singular thought from the Emperor!

 

“Cheng’en, what is going on here?” Du Yunsong asked sternly. By now, Du Cheng’en had also realized that the situation might not be good and hurriedly prepared to explain, but then he saw Li Xuanming raise his hand, signaling him to stop.

 

“No need. I trust both you and your father,” Li Xuanming said as he approached Du Cheng’en, taking the slumped Yan Yihuan from his hands. Li Xuanming leaned close to Yan Yihuan’s ear and spoke softly,

 

“Third Young Master, it’s time to return.”

 

The Du father and son stood at the gate of the general’s residence, watching the group of people disappear around the street corner. Even as the figures vanished from view, they still remained rooted to the spot, filled with unease.

 

“Cheng’en, not a word about today’s events should be leaked.” Though the entire ordeal had lasted barely an hour, Du Yunsong felt that it was like a great calamity that had drained him completely. He continued in a low voice, “This one[mfn]Referring to the current Emperor[/mfn] is nothing like the late Emperor, he has been inscrutable since his days as the Crown Prince. Today’s veiled warning was even more chilling, leaving one deeply unsettled.”

 

Du Cheng’en nodded, his gaze fixed on the street corner where the group had disappeared, still shaken to the core.

 

—

 

“Cheng’en ge, I want to sleep,” Yan Yihuan sensed that someone was carrying him. His whole body felt warm and cozy, making his eyelids grow even heavier. He simply curled up, found a comfortable position, and prepared to drift off, “Why does the world seem to sway back and forth…”

 

“Did Du Cheng’en carry you too?”

 

Why is it Zhao Chufeng’s voice again, Yan Yihuan furrowed his brow in dissatisfaction. “Yeah, carried me so many times I can’t even remember.”

 

The arms holding him suddenly tightened. Startled, Yan Yihuan forced his eyes open and was met with Zhao Chufeng’s piercing gaze.

 

“When? Where?”

 

“When we were kids,” Yan Yihuan’s eyes were still hazy as he lifted his head and answered honestly, “When I got tired from playing, I’d fall asleep on the way home, Cheng’en ge would carry me back. Oh, right, sometimes it was Jing ge.”

 

His skin, still flushed from the alcohol, carried a rosy hue that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears, down his neck, and even visible beneath his collar. Compared to before, this drunken glow made him appear even more delicate and alluring.

 

Li Xuanming acted without thinking, his hand reaching for the edge of Yan Yihuan’s collar.

 

“Hiss…”

 

Yan Yihuan let out a soft gasp, instinctively trying to retreat, but a firm arm locked around his twisting body. In the confined space of the sedan chair, there was no room left between them. The drunken Yan Yihuan soon gave up struggling, surrendering to the shared breath and warmth surrounding him.

 

Outside the sedan, the cold wind howled relentlessly, but inside, it was as warm as spring. Yan Yihuan was intoxicated to the point of being unable to close his slightly parted lips.

 

“Uncomfortable,” Yan Yihuan furrowed his brow. “I feel uncomfortable.”

 

After some time, the sedan chair had stopped at the entrance of the retreat. The sedan bearers had vanished, leaving only Shen Zhaoquan and Han Zhen to guard the distant perimeter.

 

The bright moon spilled its unfiltered light onto the sedan chair, coating its dark blue exterior with a soft, silvery glow. The sedan swayed gently from time to time under the glow. After some time, the faint rustling sounds stopped and all fell still. There was a long silence, the curtain of the sedan hung neatly in place, untouched and unmoving.

 

Li Xuanming’s bangs were soaked with sweat born of restraint as he looked at the Yan Yihuan in his arms, whose eyes were gently shut, resembling a satiated cat.

 

There was nothing here after all, he could get hurt.

 

“I’ll let you off for today,” Li Xuanming finally calmed down and coughed lightly, raising his voice slightly, “Attendants.”

 

Shen Zhaoquan accepted the thick blanket Han Zhen had been holding and walked to the sedan chair, “Your Majesty.”

 

Moments later, Li Xuanming carried the soundly sleeping Yan Yihuan out of the sedan in his arms. He turned and entered the room, which had already been warmed and filled with a comforting fragrance, then placed him gently into the soft, cloud-like bedding.

 

“Jing ge? Cheng’en ge?”[mfn]t/n: the original text has the “” but I think its just Li Xuanming’s thoughts and not Yan Yihuan’s mumbling 🫣[/mfn] Looking at the sweetly sleeping Yan Yihuan, Li Xuanming felt a surge of frustration welling up in his chest. His arched knuckles hovered over Yan Yihuan’s forehead, as though about to knock, but in the end, he didn’t, “If I didn’t go find you, you definitely won’t come looking for me, will you?”

 

“So for the past year, the only one who couldn’t let go was me.”