Chapter 6
The room was small to begin with, but a charcoal brazier burned brightly, making it warm. Song Beiyao unfastened his cloak and laid it aside. He then removed his heavy winter robe, leaving only a white undergarment.
He sat on a stool, arranging his loose long hair to the right side of his chest. He raised his left hand to loosen his left shoulder’s garment, but it pulled at his wound, causing him to involuntarily gasp. He switched to his right hand, gently pulling open the collar to reveal a small patch of shoulder.
Pei Ji lowered his gaze, his eyes sweeping across the boy’s jade-like white neck before settling on his shoulder. He said softly, “Pull your clothes down a little further. The wound is lower; you can’t change the dressing like this.”
The collar was already restrictive, and Song Beiyao lacked the strength. He tried repeatedly, but could only pull the neckline down slightly, leaving most of the wound hidden under his clothes.
Pei Ji couldn’t bear to watch, so he reached out and tore open the collar, exposing a large area of shoulder and back. His grip was strong, and he didn’t exert much control. His knuckles brushed against Song Beiyao’s skin as they passed over the wound’s gauze.
“Hiss—it hurts!” Song Beiyao frowned, letting out a muffled groan.
“Endure it,” Pei Ji said as he tore away the blood-soaked gauze. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin was torn and exposed, starkly red against his pale, jade-like skin.
Pei Ji opened a vial, pouring the medicinal powder onto the wound before carefully wrapping it with layer upon layer of gauze. His bandaging technique was highly skilled; on the battlefield, injuries were commonplace, and self-bandaging was a frequent occurrence.
Once finished, he placed the remaining gauze and vial on the table, turning his back, his hands clasped in front of his chest. “The dressing is changed. You can now tell me about Peng Yu’s whereabouts.”
Having spoken, he received no response. Pei Ji turned back to see Song Beiyao hunched over, half-supporting himself on the table.
Pei Ji frowned. “What’s wrong now?”
Song Beiyao looked up at him with difficulty, his face as pale as paper, his teeth biting his bloodless lower lip. He said with a look of suppressed pain, “Forgive me, Your Highness, allow me a moment to recover.”
Pei Ji felt disdain. It was only a wound dressing; he couldn’t even tolerate that. Quickly, another thought occurred to him: for an assassin, injury was commonplace; they wouldn’t lack this level of endurance.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, observing Song Beiyao without revealing his thoughts.
Song Beiyao seemed to be desperately suppressing the pain, but the effort was immense. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, quickly soaking his temples. He clenched his right fist, his mouth slightly open, breathing deeply—a typical sign of intense pain.
“Your Highness,” Song Beiyao said weakly, “I can tell you Peng Yu’s whereabouts, but could you grant me one condition?”
Pei Ji coldly raised an eyebrow. “What condition?”
Song Beiyao knew that Pei Ji was displeased with his repeated delays and demands; his patience had reached its limit. Looking up at Pei Ji, he showed a hint of shyness. “I wish to share a cup of wedding wine with Your Highness.”
This request wasn’t excessive, and he clearly sensed a slight relaxation in Pei Ji’s tense face.
“This King agrees. Once Peng Yu is found, I will share wedding wine with you,” Pei Ji replied.
That was enough.
“Peng Yu is in Luling County, Northern Qi,” Song Beiyao said, no longer delaying.
Upon hearing this, Pei Ji lowered his eyes, pondering for a moment before leaving with a simple, “I understand.”
“Why don’t you ask how I know?” Song Beiyao asked.
Pei Ji had already reached the door, his back to him, his figure as broad and imposing as a mountain. He said, “How you know is unimportant to this King; what matters is whether he’s there or not.”
“The dressing will need changing again in a day or two. Will Your Highness come?” Song Beiyao asked softly.
“This King should have already told you, we will never be a true couple. You don’t need to follow Zhao’s customs; let a servant change your dressing.”
Having said that, he pushed open the door and disappeared into the heavy snow.
Soon, Ling Feng hurried in, wrapped in his cloak. “I’m frozen! I’m really frozen to death! You don’t know how cold it is out there! Next time I absolutely refuse to cooperate with your acting!”
He closed the door, shaking the snow from his clothes. Turning around, he saw Song Beiyao’s expression and immediately rushed forward. “What’s wrong? Did Pei Ji beat you? Why do you look like you’re enduring such pain?”
Song Beiyao closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, instantly dropping the act. His expression returned to normal, and he raised an eyebrow at Ling Feng, his eyes filled with a playful smile. “Look at me now?”
Ling Feng was speechless, giving a thumbs-up. “Your speed of changing your expression is incredible! How can you be so good? I really thought something had happened to you!”
Song Beiyao smiled without replying. For three years, he had relentlessly honed his acting skills, and it turned out to be useful here.
Usually, acting allowed for breaks, and a bad take could be reshot; but in front of Pei Ji, it had to be a perfect one-take scene, without any mistakes.
He glanced at the number in the bottom left corner: -190. In the original book, Pei Ji personally went to Northern Qi to retrieve Peng Yu and would be away from the manor for several days; this number should be enough to last those days.
He was quite tired. He said to Ling Feng, “It’s late; let’s sleep.”
“Okay, I’ll sleep on the chair.”
Song Beiyao stopped him. “You’ll sleep in the bed with me tonight.”
Ling Feng shook his head vehemently. “In Zhao, even married men can’t show their bodies to other men. Sharing a bed is impossible; I can’t be so presumptuous.”
“…” Song Beiyao chuckled, “I’m not really married to Pei Ji.”
“Ah, ah?” Ling Feng reacted, stroking his chin. “Hmm, I guess that’s true.”
“And we’ll each have a quilt, sleeping separately, completely independent,” Song Beiyao winked.
Ling Feng looked away. “Fine, I’ll sleep with you. Just stop looking at me like that.”
“What look?”
“It’s…tsk, I can’t describe it.”
“Ling Feng, do you want to sleep inside or outside?”
“Either…I’ll sleep outside.”
“You can’t. I’ll sleep outside.”
“Then why did you even ask me???”
—
It was the end of December, freezing cold. The snow from the previous day had accumulated three feet deep. It wasn’t snowing today, but the thawing day was even more bitterly cold.
As dawn broke, Pei Ji finished his martial arts practice, took a simple bath, dressed, and went to the dining hall.
Zhang Bo was already waiting. Seeing the Crown Prince arrive, he instructed the servants to serve breakfast. By the time Pei Ji sat down, the breakfast was already served, steaming hot. The servants retreated, and Zhang Bo silently followed them out.
“Zhang Bo, what’s going on?” Pei Ji said.
Zhang Bo stopped, his head bowed. “This old servant knows he has committed a crime and shouldn’t be in Your Highness’s presence.”
Pei Ji frowned. “Oh? Tell me, what crime have you committed?”
Zhang Bo bowed even lower. “This old servant shouldn’t have acted on his own accord yesterday and spoken those words to Your Highness. Nor should I have spoken for the favored consort because I like him. And I shouldn’t have commented on Your Highness’s domestic affairs, exceeding my duties.”
“Like the favored consort?” Pei Ji seized on a key point, his expression impassive. “He’s only been in the manor for a few days, and you’re already using the word ‘like’. I remember that last year, the Marquis of Nan’an’s son stayed at the manor for two or three months, and you didn’t say a word for him.”
Zhang Bo silently breathed a sigh of relief. The Marquis of Nan’an’s son was indeed handsome, refined, talented, and extremely enthusiastic toward the Crown Prince, but! But! His kindness toward the Crown Prince was purposeful! Wasn’t he just trying to marry the Prince and become the Crown Princess?!
Those eyes were shrewd and full of sly intentions! He pretended to fall to gain the Prince’s sympathy, exposed his shoulders to attract the Prince, and always arranged late-night meetings for drinks; his motives were impure!
Unlike the one in the separate courtyard, weak and frail, yet able to block a sword for the Prince. Just standing there motionless, he evoked pity. He possessed stunning beauty yet didn’t use it, never competing or vying, never crying or making a fuss; his heart was only filled with concern for the Prince.
“Are these two even comparable?!”
Zhang Bo stood a little straighter, his expression serious. “Your Highness, I believe that no matter how much I say, if Your Highness doesn’t agree, it’s all pointless. It’s better for Your Highness to discover the favored consort’s virtues for yourself.”
Pei Ji chuckled lightly, putting down his chopsticks. “Zhang Bo, I think you’re getting old and losing your mind.”
Zhang Bo: …
“I’m leaving for Northern Qi today and will return in three or four days. Choose a clever servant from the manor to send to the separate courtyard to keep an eye on things. Report anything to me upon my return.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Zhang Bo silently smiled to himself. He says he doesn’t like him, but he’s still quite concerned.
…
Song Beiyao was woken by a gasp.
“Goodness! Favored Consort! This, this…” The gasp wasn’t loud, but Song Beiyao was a light sleeper and woke up immediately.
The door was wide open, and the servant standing at the doorway was wide-mouthed, looking terrified, bewildered, and as if he had discovered a shocking secret. His eyes darted back and forth between the two people on the bed.
Song Beiyao pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he’d been misunderstood. He said helplessly, “Close the door first.”
Ling Feng beside him was sleeping soundly, completely unaware of what was happening. His arms and legs were sprawled outside the covers, carelessly draped over Song Beiyao’s bedding. They looked like they were embracing, no wonder they were misunderstood.
The servant, who appeared older, quickly composed himself, closing the door and whispering, “Favored Consort, please rest assured, I promise not to tell His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Song Beiyao: …
“It’s not what you think,” he explained softly. “There’s only one bed in the room, so…”
“I understand! I understand!” the servant said repeatedly. “Please spare my life, Favored Consort! I definitely won’t tell His Highness the Crown Prince!”
…
“Tell the Crown Prince about what?” Ling Feng suddenly woke up, sitting up from the bed, the covers slipping down, revealing his bare, lean upper body.
The servant: !!!!
Song Beiyao twitched at the corner of his eye, his tone resentful. “Ling Feng, why did you take off your clothes to sleep?”
Ling Feng clearly hadn’t grasped the situation yet, his eyes half-open, mumbling, “Don’t you take off your clothes to sleep? Isn’t it hot with the brazier burning so brightly at night?”
Once he realized what was happening, he quickly grabbed the covers to shield his chest, shocked. “Whoa! How did another person get into the room?!”
The servant knelt down with a thud. “Please, my lords, I’ve been in the manor for five years and have never seen His Highness the Crown Prince, nor will I have the opportunity in the future. I will definitely not reveal today’s events!”
Song Beiyao kicked Ling Feng away, got out of bed, put on his clothes, and went to the servant, helping him up.
The servant was close to tears, looking at Song Beiyao pleadingly. Upon seeing him up close, his gaze went blank, unable to speak the words at his lips.
“Don’t be afraid. Even if you tell His Highness the Crown Prince, it doesn’t matter,” Song Beiyao said with a gentle smile, his eyes soft.
“It…it…doesn’t matter?” The servant’s brain couldn’t process it. Intendant Zhang had specifically instructed him that His Highness had sent him to the separate courtyard to serve the favored consort, so everything concerning the favored consort must be reported to His Highness.
He never expected this to happen.
“Yes, it doesn’t matter.” Song Beiyao still looked at him gently. “What’s your name?”
The servant had heard other servants mention that the newly arrived favored consort had an extraordinary face, like a captivating fox spirit, certain to enchant His Highness and distract him from his duties. But now, he only felt that the favored consort was gentle and approachable, causing one to involuntarily feel fondness. Even if His Highness fell for him, it wouldn’t be surprising.
He swallowed, whispering, “My name is Li Lingsheng.”
“Lingsheng, Zhang Bo sent you to serve me, right? I don’t have much work here, nor extra room. You just need to come for half a day each day.” Song Beiyao smiled.
“Half…half a day…?” Lingsheng’s eyes widened. Is this such a good assignment?
“That’s right, half a day.” Song Beiyao winked. “The rest of the time is yours. If Zhang Bo asks, just say I told you to.”
Lingsheng suddenly realized there was only one room in the courtyard. His eyes glanced at the bed again. “Then, then…”
“That’s Ling Feng. He’s been with me for many years, and he doesn’t have a place to sleep either. Last night, I let him sleep with me.” Song Beiyao sighed helplessly, smiling wryly. “You must think this is quite funny.”
Lingsheng silently lowered his eyes. It turned out he had misunderstood. Such a kind favored consort, yet kept in this secluded, cramped courtyard by His Highness the Crown Prince.
He must find a way to speak for the favored consort in front of His Highness!