The passageway buried deep beneath the Guimen Hall was dark and silent.
Xiao moved quietly, arriving at the platform surrounding the pool on the lowest level.
He came here almost every day.
The shrine guards outside had long grown accustomed to the mysterious guest’s habits, yet none of them knew why he always stood silently before that ancient, deep crimson door for fifteen to thirty minutes.
Xiao stared silently at the door standing alone on the water platform.
As always, he raised his left hand and lightly touched the cold surface with his fingertips before slowly closing his eyes.
He had never given up searching for the “variable” he had allowed into Dasheng. As long as “that person” remained on this land, his heart would continue to dangle over the edge of an abyss, unable to find peace.
Within his sea of consciousness, several hazy images gradually emerged. Yet, as always, everything remained indistinct, as though some powerful law were forcibly interfering with his perceptions.
After a long while, he let out a deep sigh and slowly opened his eyes.
Looking at the ancient door before him, utterly unmoved, Xiao squeezed his eyes shut and forcibly suppressed the violent urge surging in his chest to smash it to pieces.
He lowered his voice and sneered through clenched teeth.
“Are you trying to make an already chaotic situation even worse? Or do you think I wouldn’t really set you on fire?”
He knew better than anyone that physical force was completely useless against the door and might even provoke a backlash.
Yet whenever he thought about what had happened that day, an involuntary chill ran through his entire body.
…It had been that close.
Without him having the slightest warning, Su Muchen had nearly died beneath a hidden crossbow bolt.
If Su Muchen died, the causal chain would collapse, and Xiao would lose everything he currently possessed.
“…At the very least, give me back my permission to open the door!”
A trace of anger colored Xiao’s voice.
The helplessness of having his ability to open the door taken away gnawed at his sense of security like a poisonous snake.
If not for the distance restriction, he could have opened the door and gone straight to Su Muchen’s side that day. Instead, he had been forced to endure that almost suffocating terror from afar.
Yet the ancient door continued to stand silently on the platform, watching coldly without offering the slightest response.
Just as frustration and helplessness intertwined in Xiao’s heart, the faint, familiar sound of footsteps came from behind him.
Xiao immediately reined in his aura, concealing every trace of vulnerability and hostility he had allowed to show.
He turned around and saw that Xia Lanshi had arrived.
Xia Lanshi turned his head and quietly gave an instruction to the shrine guard outside. Then he personally closed the heavy entrance door.
In the dim underground chamber, only the two of them remained.
Xia Lanshi walked slowly toward the pool platform.
Xiao immediately put on his usual leisurely smile and asked gently, “What brings you here?”
Seeing how lightly Xia Lanshi was dressed, he couldn’t help chiding him. “It’s cold down here. Why are you wearing so little?”
As he spoke, Xiao reached out, pulled Xia Lanshi firmly into his arms, and turned himself into a human-shaped heater, sharing his warmth with him.
Xia Lanshi did not answer immediately. Instead, he raised his clear, pale-red eyes and quietly studied Xiao’s.
Only after a moment did the corners of his lips curl into an amused smile.
“I came to see whether you were scolding the door again, or perhaps… plotting how to destroy it.”
Xiao pouted, making no attempt to hide his displeasure. “It deserves a beating and a good scolding.”
Xia Lanshi chuckled. He had no intention of getting involved in the endless, impossible-to-settle dispute between the Gatekeeper and the door.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice slightly.
“Did you sense something just now?”
Su Muchen had only just been attacked, and the news had been completely suppressed. Mo Fei had barely returned to headquarters to report what happened when Xiao appeared there like a ghost to confirm Su Muchen’s safety.
Xia Lanshi had rarely seen Xiao look so flustered and disoriented.
After confirming that Su Muchen was unharmed, Xiao had remained unusually quiet ever since—so quiet that it was painful to witness.
Xiao lowered his eyes to look at Xia Lanshi standing before him. His calm voice concealed a deep, lingering fear.
“When a major causal shift occurs involving someone connected to the door, I can sense it. Just now… he was only one step away from death.”
Whenever an unpredictable variable appeared without warning, beyond his control, it always caught him completely off guard and left him powerless.
It was as though Heaven had once again reminded him that the “everyday life” he currently enjoyed could slip through his fingers at any moment.
And when that happened, no matter what he did, he might be powerless to change the outcome.
Xia Lanshi’s heart jolted.
He wondered whether the death of the Gate Key or the Gate Master would cause the causal chain to collapse, forcing everything to begin “again.”
Was that why Xiao had been so terrified?
The question circled on the tip of Xia Lanshi’s tongue, but in the end, he did not ask it.
He knew that the laws governing Xiao would prevent him from answering.
The next moment, Xiao suddenly tightened his arms around him and buried his face deep in the hollow of Xia Lanshi’s neck. Their warm breaths mingled among Xia Lanshi’s snow-white hair.
After a long while, Xiao’s slightly hoarse voice finally emerged, muffled against his skin.
“I almost… lost you. Lost everything.”
His words carried a tremor and an overwhelming sense of insecurity.
Xiao held him so tightly that Xia Lanshi’s bones began to ache.
But Xia Lanshi did not struggle.
He knew that this man, who had lived for an unknowable number of years and appeared capable of anything, was expressing genuine fear in every word he spoke.
Their everyday life was so fragile. In the face of a concealed, impossible-to-guard-against crossbow attack, they had narrowly escaped destruction by sheer luck.
Xia Lanshi slowly raised his hand and returned the embrace, gently running his fingertips through the silky hair down Xiao’s back.
A chill of dread and lingering fear rose in his own heart, too.
Only now did Xia Lanshi truly begin to comprehend, in a tangible way, just how many times Xiao must have experienced such merciless, unpredictable changes throughout the countless cycles of the past.
Even he, who prided himself on leaving nothing uncalculated, could not find a single word capable of comforting Xiao.
No one could offer an absolute guarantee that the things they held dear would still exist the next second.
This reality, manipulated by the laws of the world, was suffocating…
They were like a tiny boat adrift on an endless sea lashed by violent storms, in constant danger of capsizing.
“…I originally came today to give you something. But with the atmosphere like this, it seems rather inappropriate to take it out now.”
Xia Lanshi gently stroked his back and gave a helpless, bitter laugh.
Hearing this, Xiao lifted his head from the hollow of Xia Lanshi’s neck. A hint of curiosity and confusion appeared in his deep eyes.
“…What were you going to give me?”
A mischievous glint flashed through Xia Lanshi’s eyes. He deliberately turned around as though preparing to leave.
“The timing isn’t right today. I suppose I’ll have to choose another auspicious day.”
But the moment he turned, a strong arm encircled his waist. Xiao reached around from behind, swept him back into his embrace, and held him firmly in place.
“It has to be today.”
Xiao pressed close to his ear, his tone carrying a hint of petulance.
“Better to seize the day than wait for another.”
Forced to lean against Xiao’s solid chest, Xia Lanshi tilted his head slightly, a lingering, provocative smile lifting the corners of his eyes.
“Then come and take it yourself.”
Xiao’s gaze darkened instantly, and a dangerous curve appeared at the corner of his lips.
“You asked for it.”
With one hand, he pinned both of Xia Lanshi’s hands behind his back. His other hand slipped inside Xia Lanshi’s robe, and his fingertips began to wander slowly over his chest through the thin inner garment.
The movement seemed like a thorough search, yet it was just as much a tease.
A warm, tingling sensation spread across Xia Lanshi’s chest. The tips of his ears suddenly grew hot, and he couldn’t help letting out a soft gasp.
It seemed his body had developed a habit of reacting automatically whenever this man touched him.
“Where are you touching…? It’s not there!”
His voice sounded somewhat annoyed, yet he made no attempt to resist.
Not only did Xiao refuse to stop, he went further, tracing Xia Lanshi’s ear with his lips as he whispered, “…Not here? It seems you’ve hidden it very well, Lord Chief Administrative Aide. In that case, I’ll have to conduct an even more ‘thorough’ search.”
As he spoke, his hand slid along Xia Lanshi’s waist, pretending to move lower.
Xia Lanshi finally admitted defeat. His body softened, and he surrendered.
“No… Stop fooling around. There are shrine guards outside!”
Xiao chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t that make it even more exciting?”
Only when his hand was about to cross the line into dangerous territory did Xiao finally stop teasing him.
He leaned close to Xia Lanshi’s ear and murmured in a breathy voice that only the two of them could hear.
“Actually… there’s another ‘thing’ here that can observe everything we do.”
Xia Lanshi was secretly startled. Following Xiao’s gaze, he looked toward the ancient, dark-red door.
“Is it alive?”
“No… It’s neither a living thing nor something that can be defined as a deity. It has no will, and no emotions. It’s closer to some kind of law governing the world, though it isn’t quite that, either.”
Xiao gently released Xia Lanshi from his hold and did not continue teasing him.
He gazed at the door, his eyes dimming slightly.
“To me, it’s an eternal shackle that has imprisoned my soul for countless days and nights. But at the same time… it’s the only passage that allowed me to meet you.”
His feelings toward the door were extraordinarily complicated.
It was not simply hatred, nor was it simply reverence.
It was a destiny forged through endlessly repeated cycles of blood and tears.
Xia Lanshi straightened his slightly disheveled collar and looked at Xiao’s profile, fully understanding how he felt.
Because he felt the same way.
He was grateful that the door had brought Xiao to his side, yet he hated with equal intensity the cruel trials it had imposed on him.
Seeing Xia Lanshi’s complicated expression, Xiao chuckled and deftly steered the conversation away from the heavy subject.
He held out his hand.
“Lord Chief Administrative Aide, you still haven’t given me my gift. Are you really going to make me continue searching you? I certainly don’t mind doing it here. I’m just worried you’ll catch a chill.”
Xia Lanshi shot him an exasperated glare.
This man always had a way of ruining even the most sorrowful atmosphere completely.
Perhaps expecting the Gatekeeper to be romantic and refined was simply asking too much.
He took a small, exquisitely crafted rosewood box from his sleeve and gently placed it in Xiao’s palm before opening it.
Xiao lowered his eyes.
His gaze instantly froze.
Resting on the black silk lining inside the box was a silver ring.
Its design was almost identical to the ring he had previously slipped onto Xia Lanshi’s middle finger with his own hands, except this one had a wider band.
It abandoned elaborate patterns in favor of an austere, uncompromising simplicity.
At the very center of the ring’s face sat a perfectly cut, triangular gemstone in a deep violet hue, dazzling and mysterious in the faint light.
Xiao knew full well how difficult it was, with Dasheng’s current craftsmanship, to polish and grind metal until it reflected light as clearly as a mirror.
The radiance of this purple gemstone was even rarer in the world.
But to him, gold, silver, and jade were all no more valuable than dust.
What truly made his heart beat faster was that Xia Lanshi had crafted this specifically for him. It was a bond that belonged to him in an era that was not his own.
He carefully picked up the ring and glanced at its inner band.
Eight neat characters had been engraved there in extremely fine lettering.
Xiao stared at them for a long time. When he finally made out the words in full, his usually composed expression changed instantly.
—“When the long night ends, I shall burn to ashes with you.”
“Su Jinye.”
He had once hated his real name more than anything.
Those three characters had seemed like a curse, signifying that even if he burned his soul to ashes, he would still be doomed to stand guard over this door alone through an endless night.
It was an eternal labyrinth of reincarnation without an end… one from which there was no escape.
Yet Xia Lanshi had used these eight characters to tell him:
The long night would end.
And at its end, someone would be there to share his fate.
He was not alone.
Just as Xia Lanshi had once sworn to him before this very door: The road to the River of Forgetfulness is long, but I will walk it with you.
A painful, overwhelming ache rose in Xiao’s throat.
He lifted his head and looked into Xia Lanshi’s gentle, pale-red eyes.
His heart surged with a love so immense that it threatened to drown him.
Yet the moment he saw those words, he had also guessed the truth.
“You saw it?” Xiao asked, his voice slightly hoarse, though he did not sound surprised.
“I did.” Xia Lanshi met his gaze without hesitation.
On the night Xiao had slipped the ring onto his finger, Xia Lanshi had later quietly removed it to examine it and discovered the secret hidden inside.
Eight characters were engraved on the inner band:
“Through the trials of the River of Forgetfulness, I come only for Lanshi.”
The words meant that no matter how much suffering he endured along the River of Forgetfulness, in every life, he would always journey toward one person alone: Xia Lanshi.
That was his promise.
Xia Lanshi had accepted the “words of the ring” Xiao had given him and now offered his own response.
Xiao said nothing more.
He returned the ring in his hand to Xia Lanshi, then slowly extended his left hand.
His long fingers were slender, the joints sharply defined. He looked quietly at Xia Lanshi, his deep eyes seeming to speak without a word:
—Come. Put a ring on me and bind me to you.
He was entirely willing to be bound by Xia Lanshi.
Xia Lanshi accepted the ring and gently supported Xiao’s left hand with his fingertips, as though conducting a ceremony witnessed by no one else.
With his eyes lowered and an expression of solemn devotion, he slowly slid the violet-glimmering ring onto Xiao’s middle finger.
It fit perfectly, without the slightest discrepancy in size.
Satisfied, Xia Lanshi raised his head, a breathtaking smile spreading across his features.
“From this day forward, you’re officially spoken for. This life, the next life, and every life after that. Don’t even think about backing out.”
Looking at the dazzling smile on the face before him, Xiao’s eyes filled with tender affection.
In his heart, he murmured: Even without this ring, I have belonged to you in every life for a long, long time.
Xiao turned his hand and interlaced their fingers, the two cool rings lightly tapping against each other as their hands entwined, producing a faint sound.
Then he lowered his head and captured Xia Lanshi’s lips.
There was no hesitation in this kiss, only the fierce longing of someone who had narrowly escaped disaster, and a fear so overwhelming it threatened to consume him.
Deep in the dim underground chamber, Xia Lanshi tilted his head back slightly. In the darkness, amid a kiss that left him almost breathless, he responded tenderly and without reservation to Xiao’s fear and love.
Yet in the brief spaces between their entwined lips, a trace of cruel clarity lingered deep within Xia Lanshi’s half-closed eyes.
He understood all too well that if “the present version of himself” were to disappear from Xiao’s life again, it would be a devastating blow that could completely shatter the man’s mind.
He had to stay alive. He had to protect everything they had fought so hard to obtain.
Even if the world was a game of chess and even the most meticulous plans had loopholes, all he could do was devote every ounce of himself to calculating the next move.
When their lips finally parted, Xia Lanshi leaned breathlessly into Xiao’s embrace.
Listening to the heartbeat beneath his chest, which had accelerated because of him, Xia Lanshi couldn’t help chuckling.
“Exchanging tokens of affection in a place where not a ray of sunlight can reach us… Does that mean we’ve secretly pledged ourselves to each other without our families’ permission?”
Xiao played with Xia Lanshi’s long, jade-soft hair, winding it around his fingers. For once, his tone was unusually serious.
“Once everything has settled, I’ll return to the capital and prepare all the proper betrothal gifts. Then I’ll visit Grand Tutor Xia personally and kneel before him, begging him to let me marry you.”
Xia Lanshi’s eyes shifted playfully as he deliberately teased him.
“What if he refuses?”
Xiao thought for a moment, then answered with surprising seriousness.
“If that doesn’t work, I can marry into your family instead.”
The remark made Xia Lanshi laugh. He teased him, “In that case, wouldn’t I have to call you ‘wife’?”
Xiao’s fingers paused in their playful movements through Xia Lanshi’s hair, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I should try to convince him to let me marry into the family first. If that really doesn’t work, I’ll just have to let you marry me.”
Xia Lanshi could hardly stop laughing. There wasn’t much difference between the three options, and none of them solved the fundamental problem.
He couldn’t help teasing him again.
“What if even my grandfather refuses?”
Xiao answered with complete confidence. “Then we’ll tell him that the rice has already been cooked. He can choose only one of three options: let me marry you, let me marry into your family, or let you marry into mine. If he refuses all three, we’ll just elope.”
At the mention of the rice already being cooked, Xia Lanshi’s ears grew slightly warm. How could they possibly tell the Grand Tutor something like that?
Xiao looked at him, the corners of his lips curving slightly.
“In my world, romantic partners often call each other ‘husband’ and ‘wife.’”
“‘Husband’?”
Xia Lanshi found the term novel and unconsciously rolled the two syllables around his tongue.
That soft, lingering sound entered Xiao’s ears like an electrically charged feather brushing against his heart, stirring an indescribable tingling sensation.
Xiao’s gaze darkened abruptly.
He lowered his head, his heated breath almost touching Xia Lanshi’s ear. His voice turned husky.
“…If you call me that one more time, I’m afraid Lord Chief Administrative Aide won’t be leaving Guimen Hall today.”
Feeling the dangerous warmth brushing past his ear, Xia Lanshi wisely shut his mouth.
Although he had accidentally unlocked a new way to tease this man, he had no desire to get burned by his own fire under the present circumstances.
Xiao tightened his arms around him and softly began describing their future.
“Once His Highness’s affairs are settled, we’ll leave them all behind and disappear together. We’ll travel through mountains and rivers, enjoy the scenery, and never concern ourselves with court intrigues again.”
Listening to his almost childlike words, Xia Lanshi felt an indescribable ache spread through his chest.
He gave a helpless, bitter smile.
“You make it sound so easy… At the very least, we’ll have to wait until His Highness has truly secured his position.”
He understood all too well.
Even if Xiao Yuan eventually ascended the throne, a bottomless abyss would still lie beneath that imperial seat.
Consolidating imperial power would inevitably bring another bloody storm.
And as Xiao Yuan’s most trusted strategists, they knew far too many secrets that were never meant to see the light of day.
Even if Xiao Yuan trusted them completely, how could they simply withdraw from the vortex of power whenever they pleased?
Their fates had long been bound irrevocably to the empire.
Feeling the hesitation of the person in his arms, Xiao’s eyes dimmed slightly.
He understood Xia Lanshi’s concerns. After a long silence, he finally murmured in reluctant compromise,
“All right… But one day, you have to take me around Dasheng and show me everything. The first place I want to visit is Jiangnan.”
“Of course.” Xia Lanshi buried his face against Xiao’s chest and gently coaxed him. “I’ll take you there. I promise.”
“I’ve never really had the chance to see this world properly… I want to see it with you.”
Xiao’s voice was soft, thick with affection.
“After we’ve traveled everywhere under Heaven and can no longer walk, we’ll find a little courtyard somewhere that no one recognizes us and settle down. We’ll live out our days in peace and quiet.”
As he listened to Xiao gradually sketch out the scene, Xia Lanshi could almost see those peaceful years before his eyes.
So beautiful… as though they were an unreachable dream.
Even if the road ahead was covered in thorns and blades, even if this promise still sounded painfully fragile beneath the weight of a fate neither of them could control, he closed his eyes tightly, swallowed all his helplessness, and answered with tenderness and determination.
“All right. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll agree.”
Xiao said nothing more. He simply held the person in his arms a little tighter.
He closed his eyes, concealing the thoughts in their depths.
The ancient, deep crimson door continued to stand silently above the dark pool, while ripples spread soundlessly around the two of them.
This heavy door had once coldly witnessed their desperate vow to face death together.
And now, in the profound silence, it had witnessed them carve a mark of eternal devotion into the endless cycle of schemes and reincarnation.
◆◇◆◇◆
Although Su Muchen had only just survived a terrifying assassination attempt that morning, he spent the entire afternoon working at his desk as usual.
His expression remained calm as he reviewed the military supply ledgers, as though the incident that had nearly cost him his life had never happened.
By contrast, Xiao Yuan, who usually remained unruffled even when Mount Tai collapsed before him, was acting unusually today.
The wolf-hair brush in his hand remained suspended for a long time without touching the paper. From time to time, he would fall into deep thought or lift his head from the mountain of documents before him, fixing his gaze on Su Muchen in the distance as though repeatedly checking that the man was indeed still sitting there, safe and sound.
Finally, when Xiao Yuan raised his head for the twentieth time and swept his gaze over Su Muchen like a radar once again, Su Muchen could no longer stand it. He put down his brush and sighed helplessly.
“Jingyuan… I know you’re worried about me, but we’re in the inner courtyard of headquarters. It’s perfectly safe here, and there are layers of personal guards and hidden guards stationed outside. If you keep yourself this tense, I’m afraid you’ll collapse from exhaustion before the assassins even show up.”
Xiao Yuan pressed his thin lips together but did not argue. His gaze remained deep and somber.
All day long, his mind had been torn between two possibilities.
Would it be safer to send Su Muchen back to the modern world?
Or should he find a secluded place and hide him away instead?
But no matter which option he chose, the person before him would never obediently agree.
As evening approached, Su Muchen calculated that he needed to return to Guichen Studio to collect some medical supplies for the front lines.
The moment he stood up and made the slightest move, Xiao Yuan’s gaze shot toward him like thunder.
“Uh… I’m only going back to Guichen Studio to pick up some supplies.”
Su Muchen’s voice carried a hint of helplessness.
Upon hearing this, Xiao Yuan set aside his work without a second thought and insisted on accompanying him.
“I’m coming with you.”
Su Muchen had initially wanted to persuade him to stay. But then he reconsidered. Xiao Yuan had indeed not returned to Guichen Studio for quite some time. Perhaps taking him there would help him relax a little, so he nodded in agreement.
“This is a good opportunity to practice the ‘Shared Gate Method,’” Xiao Yuan suggested.
Ever since Xiao had explained the Shared Gate Method to them, they had not had much of an opportunity to try it.
Su Muchen agreed that they needed to practice, in case something went wrong during an emergency.
The two arrived at a heavily guarded secret chamber in the rear courtyard of headquarters. This was the secluded place Xiao Yuan had previously used specifically to open a gate to the modern world.
Xiao Yuan steadied his breathing and focused. After successfully opening the gate, he did not immediately step through. Instead, he cautiously checked its stability.
The pale, cold light remained steady.
Then he held out his hand to Su Muchen.
Understanding, Su Muchen placed his hand in Xiao Yuan’s.
Xiao Yuan’s large palm immediately closed tightly around his, gripping so firmly that Su Muchen felt a faint sting of pain. It was as though Xiao Yuan feared they might become separated the moment they crossed the passage.
The two carefully passed through the light and arrived safely in front of the rear chamber of Guichen Studio.
Truthfully, Su Muchen had still felt somewhat nervous at the instant they passed through the gate. The images of people torn apart by the gate’s power in their final moments remained firmly etched in his memory.
Fortunately, they had passed through the gate opened by Xiao Yuan without incident.
Xiao Yuan had not visited Guichen Studio in a long time. As soon as he caught the familiar fragrance of old wood and saw the warm, dim lamplight, his brows and shoulders relaxed unconsciously.
Everything here remained as it had always been. Time seemed to flow more slowly in this place, creating the illusion that it was cut off from the rest of the world.
When Su Qianqian and Su Ningning saw that Xiao Yuan had come along too, they could not hide their surprise and asked after his recent circumstances.
Before they left, however, Su Muchen had specifically warned Xiao Yuan not to mention a single word about the assassination attempt that day, lest the two women become frightened and worried.
What concerned him most was the possibility that the head of a collateral branch of the Su family might have him abducted and prevent him from returning to Dasheng.
Xiao Yuan simply explained that he would be leaving for the frontline garrison the following day and had come to say goodbye before departing. He might not be able to return for the next two months.
After chatting for a while, Su Muchen checked the supplies and gathered everything he needed. Then it was his turn to open the gate and let Xiao Yuan pass through.
This time, the gate was just as stable.
They returned to the underground chamber of Guimen Hall without incident.
“It seems the Shared Gate Method works,” Xiao Yuan remarked.
He felt somewhat reassured. As long as he remained beside Su Muchen, he could at least open a gate and take him away if an emergency arose.
“Mm… It certainly makes things much more convenient, though we can’t use it too often.”
By passing through the gate opened by Xiao Yuan, he could avoid walking through three levels of underground chambers just to reach the ancient door and then open it to return to Guichen Studio.
However, Xiao had warned them that they should use this method as sparingly as possible and never treat it as a routine means of travel.
After a long, exhausting day, night had fallen deep.
When they returned to headquarters, Su Muchen instinctively turned toward the west courtyard where he lived, intending to get a good night’s rest. They would have to rise early the next morning to prepare for departure.
But he had taken only two steps when Xiao Yuan’s deep voice came from behind him.
“Muan, not that way.”
Su Muchen turned around, looking confused.
Xiao Yuan stood beneath the corridor, gazing at him with a brooding look.
“Have you forgotten what I told you this afternoon? For the next few days, you’re not to leave my side by even a single step.”
He paused, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
“Of course, that includes nighttime.”
Su Muchen opened his mouth but could find nothing to say.
Yet he understood perfectly well that the assassination attempt had genuinely frightened Xiao Yuan today.
To soothe this tightly wound wolf, he had no choice but to give in obediently and follow Xiao Yuan back to the main residence in the principal courtyard.
Before entering the main residence, he truly did not dare glance at the personal guards standing outside.
It was not the first time he had stayed here, but he still felt as though he had absolutely no privacy.
Perhaps this was one of the disadvantages of being romantically involved with a prince. Someone was always watching whatever you did.
He had assumed the night would be just like any other, with nothing more than an ordinary overnight stay.
He had never imagined that after enjoying a comfortable bath and washing up, he would be greeted not by a warm bed but by the beginning of an “interrogation.”
Su Muchen had only just settled into a comfortable position on the bed, ready to sleep.
Suddenly, a dark shadow fell over him, blotting out the light. Xiao Yuan looked down at him from above. Su Muchen was dressed in nothing but a thin sleeping robe, and Xiao Yuan’s eyes held a hint of dangerous scrutiny.
“Military Adviser Su… You broke the rules today. Tell me, should this prince punish you?”
Su Muchen’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he instinctively swallowed.
He had secretly hoped that Xiao Yuan was so busy with his daily affairs that he had already forgotten that little incident.
He had never expected the man not only to remember every detail but also to wait until the end of the day to settle the score, leaving him no chance of escape.
Of course he remembered.
When he had first decided to enter the game, Xiao Yuan had laid down a long list of strict conditions for his safety. One of them was that he must not approach prisoners, enemy property, or suspicious individuals on his own. All enemy prisoners were to be examined by military doctors, and he was absolutely forbidden from approaching them personally. Any abnormalities had to be reported immediately, and he was not allowed to handle them independently.
Yet today, he had not only approached a prisoner but also saved an assassin who had originally come to kill him.
However, the situation had been critical at the time. The assassin, one of the death soldiers, had been on the verge of dying. If Su Muchen had not intervened, their only surviving witness would have been lost. There had simply been no time to run off and report the matter to Xiao Yuan at a leisurely pace.
“A-at the time, if I hadn’t saved him, the witness would have died!”
Su Muchen hurriedly retreated toward the inner side of the bed, stammering as he tried to defend himself.
“Besides… Mu Li was the one doing the resuscitation from beginning to end. I only called out instructions from the side and helped draw up some medicine…”
As for the fact that he had also rushed forward and personally performed CPR, he guiltily swallowed that detail.
However, the guilty little expression on Su Muchen’s face could not possibly escape Xiao Yuan’s sharp eyes.
Xiao Yuan’s lips curved into a faint smile, but it was not a smile at all. Instead, it made Su Muchen feel a very real sense of danger.
He was already beginning to regret it. He should have stubbornly insisted on returning to the west courtyard to sleep.
Now, even if he screamed himself hoarse, no one would come to save him.
The next second, Xiao Yuan reached out, pulled Su Muchen back just as he tried to escape, and firmly pinned him in the center of the spacious bed.
“It seems Military Adviser Su is admitting his guilt.”
Xiao Yuan’s deep voice sounded particularly alluring in the stillness of the night.
“But considering how suddenly the incident occurred, and the fact that you helped preserve a witness for this prince… perhaps you can make amends for your offense through your contribution.”
Su Muchen stared at the deep eyes above him, alarm bells ringing in his heart. He did not feel the slightest sense that the danger had passed.
Sure enough, Xiao Yuan’s thumb gently brushed his cheek, his voice dark and low.
“You may be spared the death penalty, but you cannot escape punishment altogether. Tonight, this prince will make sure Military Adviser Su learns his lesson, so he won’t dare do it again.”
As he spoke, Xiao Yuan somehow produced a soft yet sturdy silk ribbon. With practiced movements, he caught Su Muchen by both wrists, raised his arms above his head, and tied them firmly to the carved headboard so he could not escape again.
“W-what are you doing?”
Su Muchen was startled, and his voice rose involuntarily.
He struggled a little, only to discover that the knot had been tied cleverly. It was not particularly tight, yet he could not free himself.
“Didn’t I just tell you?” Xiao Yuan gazed at him with smoldering eyes. “‘Punishment.’”
Su Muchen stared up at the man above him, his mind falling into utter confusion.
This punishment… why did it feel so improper?
Was this really right?!
But since he was the one in the wrong, he did not dare protest too loudly.
He thought that Xiao Yuan couldn’t possibly actually beat him up…
Right?
Just as his mind wandered in every direction, a shadow fell over him.
Xiao Yuan’s hot lips landed precisely on his.
“Mmph…!”
This kiss was different from the tenderness he had shown before. It was filled with fierce conquest and possessiveness, even carrying a hint of punitive biting. It was so intense that Su Muchen could barely catch his breath.
Xiao Yuan’s tongue forcefully breached his defenses, tangling up the last remnants of coherent thought in Su Muchen’s mind until they became a complete mess. He could hardly think.
When their lips parted, Xiao Yuan’s breath traveled down the line of his jaw. He brushed past Su Muchen’s sensitive ear and bit it lightly in retaliation, making Su Muchen flinch.
It hurt a little, but the sensation that followed was an indescribable tingling that made him let out a soft, involuntary sound.
Then those heated lips lingered along the side of his neck and his collarbones, leaving faint red bite marks that invited all sorts of speculation.
Su Muchen felt a restless heat rising within him under this half-forced intimacy. Breathing lightly, he struggled to suppress the sounds that nearly escaped his lips.
Instinctively, he tried to struggle, but with both hands bound, he could not even push Xiao Yuan away. All he could do was shift his body slightly on the bed without thinking.
Yet that unconscious movement made Xiao Yuan feel the subtle motion of the supple body beneath him.
Xiao Yuan had originally intended only to use this “punishment” to teach Su Muchen a lesson. But desire suddenly flared in his eyes.
He pushed himself up and stared intently at Su Muchen, whose eyes glistened with tears and whose breathing had grown uneven.
Seeing him looking so pitiful, Xiao Yuan’s heart softened again.
In the end, he could not bear to do anything that might hurt Su Muchen.
The dominance in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a trace of lingering fear that he could no longer conceal.
He had truly been frightened today.
Somewhere beyond his sight, while he was unable to spread his wings to shield Su Muchen, the man had been exposed to the enemy’s hidden arrows. Although the incident had ultimately ended without disaster, the terror of feeling his heart stop had nearly swallowed his reason whole.
“Muan…”
Xiao Yuan’s voice was terribly hoarse, with a slight tremor that was difficult to detect.
“The Crown Prince has set his sights on you completely. This time, he sent death soldiers. Next time, who knows what other overt or covert attacks he’ll use… Have you really not considered returning to the modern world to lie low for a while? Are you… truly not afraid at all?”
Su Muchen keenly sensed the unease and vulnerability hidden in Xiao Yuan’s words.
He looked into Xiao Yuan’s bloodshot eyes.
He wanted to reach out and embrace this man before him, a man who commanded a powerful army yet was now frightened because of him. But his hands were bound, leaving him unable to move.
“Jingyuan.” Su Muchen softened his voice. “Let me go first, okay?”
Xiao Yuan followed his gaze and looked down at Su Muchen’s wrists, which had grown slightly red from his earlier struggles.
A trace of remorse crossed his eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he reached out and untied the ribbon.
The instant he regained his freedom, Su Muchen raised both arms and voluntarily wrapped them around Xiao Yuan’s broad shoulders, drawing the anxious soul tightly into his embrace.
“When it happened today, I was indeed a little scared…”
Su Muchen spoke honestly beside Xiao Yuan’s ear. Then his tone grew exceptionally firm.
“But I have Mu Li, Mo Fei, and the personal guards protecting me. Chief Administrative Aide Xia’s emergency plans also worked. I trust them, and I trust that you’ll keep me safe.”
He tightened his embrace, as though trying to pass his own strength to the man in his arms.
“Besides… if I got so frightened by this little threat that I ran back to the modern world, wouldn’t that be exactly what the Crown Prince wants? I’ve told you before: once I’ve entered the game, I will never leave you alone in this abyss to face everything by yourself. Wherever you go, I’ll go.”
Hearing this wholehearted confession, Xiao Yuan’s heart shook violently.
He buried his face in the hollow of Su Muchen’s neck and drew in a deep breath of his familiar scent. Little by little, the fear and anxiety in his heart finally began to ease.
He was moved, yet not surprised.
Because he knew that his military adviser was never a timid little bird that would flee back into its cage at the first sign of danger. He was an eagle capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with him and facing the storm together.
After a while, Xiao Yuan slowly drew back.
He took Su Muchen’s hand and gently ran his long fingers over the reddened skin around his wrist, where the ribbon had rubbed against it. Frowning, he asked, “Did I… hurt you just now?”
In truth, he knew the answer. He had tied the knot carefully and had not pulled it tight. Most of the red marks had probably come from Su Muchen rubbing against the ribbon while struggling.
“It doesn’t hurt…”
Su Muchen looked at his wrist. With the crisis over, he had immediately returned to his usual self and paid no attention to the small marks. To him, they were not even injuries.
But Xiao Yuan turned without a word and took a white jade porcelain bottle from the small cabinet beside the bed.
He scooped out a little translucent ointment, then lowered his head and carefully applied it to Su Muchen’s wrist, his expression focused and gentle.
A cool sensation spread across Su Muchen’s skin, soothing the faint warmth he could barely feel.
Su Muchen watched Xiao Yuan’s lowered brows. This was the same prince who was decisive and ruthless in front of others, yet now he was treating a few red marks on Su Muchen’s wrist—marks that barely qualified as injuries—with such meticulous care.
Warmth and amusement rose in his eyes.
He did not spoil the moment by saying, “It’s such a tiny thing. There’s no need for ointment.”
Instead, he sat quietly, obediently allowing Xiao Yuan to hold his hand and simply savoring this weighty yet infinitely tender concern.
“We have to set out early tomorrow morning. Let’s get some rest.”
After applying the ointment, Xiao Yuan tucked him securely beneath the brocade quilt and lay down beside him. He stretched out one long arm and, as usual, gathered Su Muchen entirely into his embrace.
Listening to Xiao Yuan’s steady heartbeat, Su Muchen gave a soft “Mm” and closed his eyes.
He seemed to be gradually growing accustomed to the warmth of being held by this man.
What had happened today had indeed frightened him somewhat, but he was not alone. With Xiao Yuan protecting him so fiercely, he no longer felt quite so afraid.
The storm was gathering outside. But as long as he was held in this man’s arms, it felt safer than the strongest fortress in the world.