TPAE chapter 7.11

The silk quilt brushed against his skin, smooth to the touch. Wei Xicheng lay curled up under the covers, staring at the indistinct dark patterns on the fabric while listening intently to the sounds outside.

It was very quiet—so quiet that it almost felt like there was no one else in the room.

After some time, Wei Xicheng suddenly threw the covers off with force, only to crash into a pair of deep, penetrating eyes. His movements froze in an instant, and he immediately regretted his impatience.

Yan Bei’s hand had just been resting on the quilt. Judging by his actions, he had likely been about to pull it down for him. But Wei Xicheng’s sudden movement had knocked his hand away. Following the line of his arm, that hand was now buried beneath the covers.

Wei Xicheng stared at the hidden hand in silence.

Yan Bei smirked slightly, then pulled his hand out from under the quilt and placed it right in front of Wei Xicheng’s face. His tone was calm as he asked, “Is it really comfortable to keep your head buried under the covers?”

“Xiao Taozi! Someone has trespassed into my chambers—mmph!”

Before Wei Xicheng could finish, Yan Bei covered his mouth with one hand.

“What are you doing?!” Wei Xicheng pried the offending hand off his mouth and glared at Yan Bei, but his voice involuntarily lowered.

This small detail didn’t escape Yan Bei’s notice, and the amusement in his eyes deepened.

“Your Majesty?” A voice called from outside.

Wei Xicheng glanced at Yan Bei’s lips, which were silently mouthing let him leave.

“I’m fine. I’ll call for you later.”

Unwilling to let Yan Bei have his way so easily, Wei Xicheng rolled his eyes at him before demanding, “Why are you here? Aren’t you afraid I’ll have you beheaded for trespassing in my palace?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Wei Xicheng knew he had made a mistake.

As an emperor, he didn’t hold as much authority as the “subject” standing before him. Sure enough, when he looked up, the great general’s eyes were filled with amusement.

“Yan Bei! Do you really think I’m afraid of you?!”

“Of course not.” Yan Bei pulled out the edge of the quilt from beneath Wei Xicheng. “After all, our emperor fears no one, right?”

“Obviously… Wait. How much did you hear?”

Wei Xicheng had long suspected that Yan Bei’s men were stationed outside the Empress Dowager’s palace. What he hadn’t expected was that Yan Bei himself would be there.

“I heard everything I needed to hear.”

Their once lighthearted conversation grew heavier with that single statement.

“There are some things you can’t run away from.”

Wei Xicheng shoved away Yan Bei’s approaching hand. His brow arched, and his tone grew sharper. “Oh? So I suppose the imperial selection is something I can’t avoid either?”

“I’ll figure out a way—”

“And what exactly do you take me for, Yan Bei?”

Wei Xicheng threw off the quilt and got out of bed, standing before Yan Bei, who remained seated. The bright yellow of his dragon robe was striking, a symbol of his nobility.

“Even if I hold no real power, I am still the emperor of this land. My feelings for you were never about gaining favor or currying influence. I’ve never once compromised on what I truly desire. General Yan, please leave.”

“I never said you were after the Tiger Tally.”

Yan Bei rose to his feet, stepping in front of Wei Xicheng.

“My feelings for you have nothing to do with power or status.”

“Then tell me—why?” Wei Xicheng lowered his head.

He was already nearly a head shorter than Yan Bei, and bowing his head only made him seem even smaller, as if he were carrying a hidden grievance.

Yan Bei was momentarily stunned before pulling him into an embrace.

“Do you really not know?” He sighed softly. “Of course, it’s because I love you.”

Wei Xicheng pressed his face against the dark fabric of Yan Bei’s robe, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Each beat seemed to pound against his own heart.

He didn’t want to be so sentimental. Fussing over emotions wasn’t very manly at all.

“…Alright.”

Yan Bei heard the small response from the person in his arms.

He gently grasped Wei Xicheng’s shoulders, crouching slightly so they were at eye level.

“Do you really not want to be emperor anymore? I’ve seen you staying up late, reading over memorials. Sometimes, you even talk about court matters in your sleep. You say you don’t want to rule, but you still make sure to remember every piece of advice the chancellor gives you, making sure to do better next time.”

“Maybe in the past, you thought you weren’t suited for the throne. But have you realized now that you’re improving at an incredible pace?”

Yan Bei’s words weren’t those of a subject speaking to his emperor.

But then again, the relationship between Wei Xicheng and Yan Bei had never truly been one of ruler and vassal.

Wei Xicheng could never truly control Yan Bei.

And Yan Bei would never hurt Wei Xicheng.

In a world where hierarchy was absolute, the two of them had somehow reached an unspoken, fragile balance of equals.

“Every decision you make, I will support you. But I hope you follow your heart. No matter when, where, or what status you hold, you will always be my emperor.”

After saying this, Yan Bei initially intended to kneel on one knee to pledge his loyalty, but after a brief hesitation, he instead chose to gently embrace Wei Xicheng.

“If my emperor has anything on his mind, perhaps he could share it with his most loyal subject—no matter what it is.”

The palace chamber was quiet. The windows were not tightly shut, allowing faint noises from outside to drift in—the deliberately softened sounds of palace maids sweeping, the occasional voice of Xiao Taozi giving instructions.

A light breeze slipped through the gaps, so subtle that before it could be truly felt, it had already vanished, leaving only the sheer curtains by the window swaying briefly before settling once more.

Wei Xicheng gazed at the man before him, as if time had come to a standstill.

This was where he and Yan Bei differed.

No matter how many worlds he traveled through, Yan Bei would always be Yan Bei of this world—never Yu Beiyan of the previous world, nor Yu Beiyan of the next.

His way of treating Wei Xicheng was modern, yet he was still a great general from an ancient, parallel world. He was Yan Bei, even if deep within his soul, Yu Beiyan lay dormant.

At first, Wei Xicheng had no intention of changing anything in this world through his own efforts. He only wanted to quickly gather energy, level up his system, awaken Yu Beiyan’s memories, and return to the real world as soon as possible.

But Yan Bei’s words made him reflect—what had been his original purpose in traveling freely between worlds?

To experience the personalities and lives of different characters, honing his acting skills.

At some point, his mindset had shifted. At some point, he had put aside his passions and dreams.

Wei Xicheng shook his head and looked at Yan Bei.

“Alright.”

That single word carried different meanings in each of their hearts.

The Empress Dowager and the court ministers were deeply relieved—the emperor had finally shown ambition. This was a blessing for the entire nation. The opposing factions remained silent, and even the powerful princes, who had once been capable of challenging the throne, quietly retreated to their fiefdoms.

Yan Bei’s role as the emperor’s loyal supporter was an open secret.

In the eyes of the court, Yan Bei had shed his identity as a military general and was now thriving in politics. His decisions were brilliant, earning admiration from even the most seasoned ministers.

The emperor and Yan Bei grew closer, often engaging in deep conversations late into the night, eventually falling asleep side by side.

People said that the young emperor’s rapid progress was thanks to General Yan Bei.

However, only Yan Bei knew the truth—since that day he had encouraged the emperor, he had never helped him again. Wei Xicheng’s achievements were entirely his own.

Their relationship grew more natural, just as it had in previous worlds. The longer they spent together, the deeper their understanding of each other became.

Wei Xicheng never became a wise ruler. Having lacked an education in governance since childhood, he had no inherent sense of statecraft. He had to learn everything from scratch, and the best he could achieve was to be a steady, unremarkable emperor who neither prospered nor failed.

From an arrogant, reckless young emperor, he matured into a steady and composed ruler. Beside him, Yan Bei transformed from an undefeated young general into a formidable statesman.

Under the unwavering protection of his loyal general, the emperor gradually dismantled the Empress Dowager’s faction and finally took control of the empire.

Neither of them ever married. Their lifelong companionship became a legend.

Common folk, bound by reverence for the Son of Heaven, rarely discussed it aloud, yet the history books recorded it in bold strokes, leaving endless speculation for future generations.

After decades together, Wei Xicheng finally accumulated enough energy to continue his journey.

Before he left, Yan Bei held his hand. His face bore no traces of tears, as if this was nothing more than a fleeting farewell.

Wei Xicheng smiled.

At the start of this world, he had been desperate to awaken Yan Bei’s memories. By the end, the energy he had gathered was insignificant.

But it didn’t matter. He had finally put this relationship in the right place.

After traveling through so many worlds, he had longed for companionship. After meeting Yu Beiyan, he had unconsciously made him the center of his world—an extremely dangerous mindset.

Yet he had been fortunate. In every world, even without memories, his lover had always found him first, always treasured him.

Wei Xicheng had once doubted his lover’s feelings.

But now, he understood.

It was his past self who had placed too much weight on love. When someone makes romance the sole focus of their life, they risk losing themselves. But after seeing things clearly and rediscovering the joy in his own journey, everything became much easier.

Looking back, he noticed the small, often-overlooked details of Yan Bei’s love—the way their passion naturally settled into something steady and real. The grand intensity of their emotions had softened into ordinary, everyday moments. It was in those simple things that Yan Bei’s patience and respect for him shone through.

Every pair of lovers had their own unique way of expressing love.

Thinking back, Wei Xicheng was grateful that he had never been too unreasonable—he had never made things difficult for Yu Beiyan.

If someone were to ask him now whether he loved Yu Beiyan, he knew he would smile and answer with certainty: Yes.

And as for whether Yu Beiyan loved him—Wei Xicheng no longer needed to ask.

Because he finally understood—love was not just spoken aloud.

That was why, even in the last world where he hadn’t said it, Yu Beiyan had never blamed him.

Wei Xicheng closed his eyes.

Now, he understood.

And perhaps, it wasn’t too late.

“Wait for me.”

A man’s voice echoed in his ears.

Wei Xicheng gave a small nod before sinking into darkness.