Fu Ye noticed that the low-pressure aura around Fu Huang had dissipated.
He must have been very satisfied with his answer.
Quickly changing the subject, he asked, “What part are you at?”
Fu Huang was reading the only piece of entertainment among his many books, a historical storybook about famous generals called Hundred Heroes’ Tales.
Fu Huang said, “Qin Xiu.”
Fu Ye liked this figure a lot and sighed, “He was really amazing. Emperor Ming even allowed him to ride horses inside the palace.”
Qin Xiu was a famous general during Emperor Ming’s reign. When Emperor Shizong died suddenly without an heir, many princes competed for the throne. Qin Xiu helped Emperor Ming ascend and was rewarded as a loyal supporter—thus included in the Hundred Heroes’ Tales. Emperor Ming permitted him to ride horses in the palace.
Fu Huang seemed somewhat distracted, then said, “If you want to ride in the palace, just ride however you want.”
Fu Ye looked up and saw Fu Huang lounging slightly with lazy authority. His tone sounded exactly like a careless and indulgent ruler, in a good mood, promising anything.
Ordinary princes wouldn’t be allowed to ride horses freely inside the palace!
That was a privilege reserved only for great contributors or those deeply favored by the emperor.
Fu Ye laughed, “Then I’ll have to try it tomorrow.”
Of course, he was only joking—he didn’t know how to ride yet.
Fu Ye needed to sleep early and wake early, so he usually went to bed early. After he fell asleep, Fu Huang sometimes would lie down next to him reading memorials.
Fu Huang’s sleep was short—he typically went to bed late and woke early.
But today, Fu Huang came back early.
Eunuch Qin guessed the memorials today might have caused some worries, or some minister had misspoken, because Fu Huang looked troubled and went to bed early.
He tossed and turned all night, calling for tea several times.
He felt the emperor might be too warm and didn’t properly cover himself.
It was indeed a bit hot and restless.
Fu Huang wasn’t completely unfamiliar with male affection. Occasionally, he had seen soldiers secretly comforting each other in the barracks. But there was no one like Fu Ye in the army.
The soldiers could go days without bathing; none of them had Fu Ye’s pale, fragrant skin.
Fu Ye loved cleanliness and was more diligent in washing than anyone. His skin was pale; even his earlobes flushed a delicate pink. Since he mentioned “before and after,” was he some kind of submissive who lay beneath others?
His noble status was supreme—second only to the emperor, deeply favored. How could he stoop to be beneath someone else? To humiliate him would be to humiliate the emperor himself.
Fu Huang was curious to see who would dare.
Even if Fu Ye were to suffer any mistreatment, it should only come from the emperor himself.
His thoughts rose and fell, a restless agitation bubbling up for no clear reason, so he finally got up.
Eunuch Qin quickly asked, “Does Your Majesty want some tea?”
Fu Huang didn’t answer. Wearing only his inner shirt, he headed straight to the East Pavilion.
When he reached the pavilion door, he didn’t enter. The paper windows were dark—Fu Ye must have been sound asleep. Though physically weak, Fu Ye ate well and slept deeply.
Someone like that, held in his arms while sleeping, would probably let him sleep well, too.
When Qing Xi and the others heard the night attendant’s announcement at the door, they hurried to wait outside the hall. Seeing Eunuch Qin come out hurriedly, they helped Fu Huang put on an outer robe.
Fu Ye disliked any light while sleeping. The courtyard had only one palace lamp, dimly lit. Fu Huang stood there, motionless, making them nervous.
They thought he had fallen ill again.
Luckily, after standing for a while, the emperor returned.
Eunuch Qin waved to them, and everyone in the hall finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The next day, when Fu Ye arrived at the riding grounds, he was surprised to see Fu Huang there as well.
Fu Huang wore a dark sable fur cloak and a black jade hairpin, dressed entirely in sharp, clean black. Eunuch Qin was holding a black horse for him—its coat smooth and shiny like satin, as magnificent and imposing as its rider.
A group of palace attendants stood nearby, hands folded respectfully.
Fu Ye greeted him, “Your Majesty.”
Fu Huang said, “You’re going to ride dressed like that?”
Fu Ye was clad in a scarlet robe embroidered with intricate golden floral patterns. Around his waist was the gold-threaded brocade belt that Fu Huang had gifted him, adorned with jade pendants that jingled softly—he looked rich and splendid from head to toe.
Fu Huang had already noticed: this guy just loved looking good.
Fu Ye laughed, “I specially wore the belt Your Majesty gave me to show it off to the Empress.”
For some reason, Fu Ye felt like he wasn’t just lively in spirit—his appearance and body also radiated a vividness that was almost unbelievable.
Fu Huang said, “Mount up.”
Fu Ye looked around but didn’t see his own prized horse.
Fu Huang said, “Ride my horse.”
Without another word, he wrapped his arms around Fu Ye’s waist, supporting his hips with large hands, and gently lifted him up to sit comfortably on the horse.
Though slender, Fu Huang’s arm strength was astonishing.
His warhorse matched his rider—majestic and intimidating, standing perfectly still without a single twitch.
Fu Huang swung himself up onto the horse behind Fu Ye, his thin but strong body enveloping him securely. “Riding horses inside the palace is no great honor. But to ride together with the king in the palace—that’s unprecedented.”
Hmm… Ancient emperor version of a domineering CEO, hello.
Fu Ye was utterly overwhelmed by the favor. When did his privilege become so grand?
It was just after the hour of the rooster, and the setting sun poured molten gold from the horizon. The clouds clustered like linked jade discs, surrounding the Ninefold Palace.
Fu Huang held him as they galloped down the imperial avenue.
This avenue ran through the very center of the palace and was usually only opened on monumental occasions like an emperor’s coronation or wedding. But now it was wide open, the nine palace gates flung open layer by layer, golden sunlight bathing them.
They rode out through the palace gates and onto the heavenly street beyond.
Such reckless extravagance—under heaven, only Emperor Fu Huang would dare.
And among the princes of the realm, only he could enjoy such an honor!
Fu Huang said nothing the entire way. At first, Fu Ye excitedly shouted out, but soon the glow of the palace gates outside stilled his voice.
He felt they were moving far too fast, and at any moment he might fall.
So he clung tightly to Fu Huang’s back.
The wind was cold, but Fu Huang wrapped his cloak around Fu Ye, almost encircling him in his arms.
Fu Ye smelled the faint herbal scent from Fu Huang’s clothing.
Though not heavily dressed, Fu Huang’s frame was sturdy and his chest remarkably hard.
He wondered if, back when Fu Huang rode into battle, he was just as invincible as he seemed now.
For a moment, his blood boiled with excitement.
No wonder the domineering CEO has no trouble chasing after someone.
When a unique favor is thrown down like that, who wouldn’t be dizzy?
His heart was pounding like crazy.
But Fu Huang’s style of riding was just like him—too intense for ordinary people to handle.
Like him, for example.
“Too fast, Your Majesty.”
“Slow down, slow down.”
“Please, just a little slower!”
Fu Huang turned his horse’s head back, heading the way they came, but the pace slowed considerably. The horse’s hooves clicked against the ground. Fu Huang lowered his head and asked, “Scared?”
Fu Ye’s cheeks flushed red, but his eyes shone fiercely. “Scared, yes. But it feels so good.”
In this, he truly showed the spirit of their Fu family line—fragile and beautiful on the surface, but with a strong backbone underneath.
Fu Huang rode him back, and whenever palace attendants passed by, they all bowed their heads and stepped aside.
Fu Ye, coming to realize the situation, said, “This probably breaks protocol.”
Fu Huang said something fitting his character and impressively bold. Seeing the female officials from Cien Palace watching ahead, he didn’t mind at all and said casually, “If we’re happy, that’s the rule.”
Fu Ye felt a bit overwhelmed; the inside of his thighs tingled and ached. He lifted his hips to adjust, as if he’d suddenly sat on something hard, then shifted forward a few times.
Ancient clothing was like that—lacking elasticity, too loose, and couldn’t hold everything steady no matter what.
Fu Huang didn’t say anything.
Feeling a little awkward, Fu Ye said, “I can understand.”
Fu Huang sniffed and asked, “Understand what?”
Fu Ye replied, “Your Majesty is young and vigorous; there’s no one in the harem.”
“I have no evil thoughts; it’s just the horse’s jolts.”
Sure enough, he was too young and spirited—just riding a horse got him excited. If it were riding someone else, who knows what would happen.
Then again, Fu Huang was only twenty-four or twenty-five.
Fu Huang seemed indifferent and guided the horse toward the imperial riding grounds.
Fu Ye asked, “Your Majesty, why don’t you want to take a harem?”
Fu Huang didn’t answer.
Fu Ye didn’t dare to press further.
After a while, Fu Huang suddenly said, “Don’t ask that again. I don’t want to hear it.”
Ahhh, he almost became the annoying marriage pressure pest!
“I, your humble brother, was wrong.”
Only then did Fu Huang soften his tone, apparently pleased with his obedience.
The news that the emperor had taken Fu Ye riding through the palace quickly reached the Empress Dowager’s chambers.
When she learned of it, she wanted to call Fu Ye in for a talk, but Palace Attendant Sun stopped her and said, “This is probably His Majesty’s wish. Since His Majesty favors him, Your Highness can only obey, right?”
Empress Dowager Zhang said, “Do you think the emperor is doing this on purpose? I told you he shouldn’t have too much contact with Prince Huan.”
Fu Ye’s appearance and personality were completely different from Fu Huang’s. Empress Dowager Zhang had high hopes for Fu Ye and didn’t want him to become a second Fu Huang. But if Fu Ye got along well with Fu Huang, that wasn’t without its benefits.
Fu Huang was always a person people both loved and hated with no clear understanding—no one really knew what he was truly thinking!
Fu Huang seemed to be in a good mood today. After returning to the riding grounds, he even personally taught Fu Ye how to ride and led his horse for him.
The palace servants, who were usually like robots just focused on their tasks, couldn’t help but steal glances.
The emperor himself leading a horse? Who would believe it if told?
But this teacher was really strict.
He was tall and slender, but carried the majestic aura of a sovereign—unlike ordinary people—and had very little patience.
He patted Fu Ye’s calf. “Don’t squeeze so tight.”
Fu Ye relaxed his legs, but as soon as the horse moved, he squeezed tight again.
Turning to look at Fu Huang, who wore a dark expression, Fu Huang saw his nervous gaze and just patted his leg again.
Fu Ye said, “Let someone else teach me. You make me too nervous.”
Fu Huang said, “Forget it. We’ll stop here today.”
Then he reached out and helped him down.
This time Fu Ye couldn’t help but praise him, “Your Majesty, you have strong arms.”
Fu Huang set him down, and Fu Ye said, “My archery teacher told me that Your Majesty always shoots arrows that pierce the target.”
Fu Huang glanced at his face, sensing genuine admiration, and said nothing.
Fu Ye had a very happy day.
Though it was tough on his legs.
He told Fu Huang, “My legs are trembling when I walk. Look.”
He lifted his robe to show how his legs shook.
“Did you rub them raw?”
Actually, he had changed to softer padding today.
Fu Ye touched his legs through his pants. “They hurt a little.”
Fu Huang said, “You’re delicate.”
Fu Ye said, “Not everyone is as brave and capable as Your Majesty.”
“…” Fu Huang didn’t reply.
He seemed to take it well.
With Qingxi and others accompanying him, Fu Ye returned to Qingyuan Palace and the first thing he did was bathe and change clothes.
Ancient people rarely bathed, especially in winter. One, because conditions were poor; two, bathing often led to illness. The royal family had better conditions, but even so, bathing wasn’t as frequent as it is today. Everyone in the palace knew Fu Ye liked to keep clean.
Actually, this was a bit of a plot hole. Someone who had been displaced to a foreign land—even if formerly a servant in a wealthy household—wouldn’t likely be so fastidious.
But no one suspected anything.
Noble people had the means; liking cleanliness was normal.
Their emperor loved bathing.
But the emperor’s bathing was simple; he wasn’t afraid of the cold. It was said that during his military days, even in the harshest winter, he bathed in cold water.
Prince Huan was different.
Prince Huan was very particular.
Bath beans were essential, but the ones Prince Huan used were his own special mix. Besides common herbs like soy flour, pig pancreas, angelica root, and poria, he added storax and some herbs for a unique fragrance. Every morning and night he used toothpaste made from angelica and mint to clean his teeth. Especially his hair, which he washed every two or three days.
But he had so much thick hair it took a long time to dry.
Fu Huang called Qingxi to bring a fan to help him.
The room was warm, so fanning didn’t feel cold. Fu Ye leaned on a soft cushion reading, his hair gradually becoming fluffy and soft, the scent strong.
He dressed lightly in the chamber; his slender figure was obvious beneath the robe. Today he was especially casual, barefoot, with one foot stretched beside the kang table.
His feet were thin and pale, looking as if they had rarely walked much—clean and delicate, especially his ankles, fine and slender, faint blue veins showing beneath the thin skin.
Fu Huang reached out to hold his foot, but the moment he touched it, Fu Ye quickly pulled it back.
Fu Huang was stunned and looked up at him. Fu Ye looked a little surprised.
Fu Huang said, “Your feet are cold. Put on your shoes and socks.”
Fu Ye said, “You scared me.”
He had earlier complained about being overly sensitive, and now he believed it.
Fu Huang’s fingers still felt the cool, smooth touch. When Qingxi brought the embroidered socks, Fu Ye really loved beauty. His socks had floral patterns woven with gold thread.
The palace clothing department must have been very pleased finally to have a use.
The embroidered socks covered his calves, making him look exquisite in his clothing, but his demeanor was still wild and unrestrained. The palace’s refinement blended with his free-spirited nature to create a unique beauty. Fu Huang stopped reading the memorial and looked at him.
No matter how he looked, it was pleasing to the eye.
The internal eunuch Qin spoke of longevity blessings; Fu Huang was starting to believe it a little.
News of Fu Huang taking Fu Ye riding in the palace spread the next day.
At first, it was the common people near Tianjie Street spreading the word.
They said they saw His Majesty galloping there, with a beautiful person in his arms—wearing a crimson robe with black hair.
At first, people guessed His Majesty had a new favorite concubine and speculated which beautiful woman it was.
The late Emperor Wuzong’s harem had countless beauties, and many children. The current emperor was twenty-five and it was about time to marry.
Then someone spoke up: it wasn’t a concubine—it was Prince Huan!
At first, there had been suspicion that Prince Huan would be distrusted by His Majesty, but no one expected he would receive such special favor!
Many senior ministers wept tears of joy.
More details leaked from inside the palace—that Prince Huan was now learning horseback archery and was personally taught by His Majesty!
This was a good thing.
The elder ministers said so, but Empress Dowager Zhang wasn’t elated.
Fu Huang’s notorious reputation wasn’t just because he loved cutting people down on a whim, but also because no one could ever guess what he was thinking.
Fu Ye originally thought that after riding in the palace with Fu Huang, he’d be scolded by the Empress Dowager. But the next day when she saw him, she only asked about the details.
Fu Ye, hoping to mend their mother-son relationship, spoke well of Fu Huang.
Empress Dowager Zhang was silent for a long time after hearing this and said nothing else.
She was even more worried!
Right after leaving Ci’en Palace, Fu Ye ran into Fu Huang on the road.
Fu Huang stood with his hands behind his back, surrounded by a group of attendants. His tall stature and commanding presence made him stand out like a crane among chickens.
Fu Ye walked over and bowed respectfully.
Fu Huang asked, “Did you get scolded?”
Fu Ye glanced at Fu Huang and asked, “It seems like you’re really looking forward to me getting scolded?”
Fu Huang didn’t seem very pleased. “Looks like Mother truly dotes on you.”
Fu Ye’s eyes sparkled as he said, “Even if Mother scolds me, I’d still be happy just to ride horses with Your Majesty!”
Little voice: “Oh, you’re such a flatterer.”
Fu Huang seemed to like that and said, “No studying today. We’re going riding.”
Fu Ye said, “Huh?”
He could tell Fu Huang definitely didn’t play by the usual rules.
This was a very willful emperor.
But today, Fu Huang didn’t look at any memorials and just spent a good while riding with him.
It felt like he was neglecting his court duties just for him.
Fu Ye was certain now — Fu Huang really did favor him.
More like a weak-willed ruler, less like a tyrant.
A major piece of news had recently swept through the capital: at the border between the capital and Dingzhou, there was a river called Yongding River. Now that spring had arrived and the ice was melting, it was said that local farmers living along the river had spotted several white foxes crying mournfully on the riverbank for several days in a row. Not long after, a massive stone Buddha emerged from the riverbed.
This news was quickly hailed as an auspicious omen, especially since the founding emperor of the Fu dynasty, the Sacred Ancestor, was said to have been born in a Buddhist forest in Luanzhou. According to legend, a group of white foxes had appeared at his birth and bowed before him.
The locals began to revere the statue, and Empress Dowager Zhang—an ardent devotee of Buddhism, just like her mother—decided she would go see it in person.
People in ancient times placed great faith in such omens, and word of this spread quickly through the palace. Fu Ye thought the whole thing sounded far-fetched and possibly suspicious, but he’d been itching to leave the palace for a while. So after finishing his lessons, he headed straight for Qingyuan Palace.
Fu Ye said, “I heard something wild over lunch with Mother—supposedly, after the ice melted on the Yongding River, a giant stone Buddha appeared beneath the water. They say it’s several zhang tall.”
Fu Huang looked up at him. “You sure hear things fast.”
“The locals in Dingzhou see it as a heavenly sign and have already started worshipping it. Pilgrims are flooding the place. They say the Buddha’s origin is a mystery, and the rumors are getting more and more fantastical. Grand Lady Zhang is deeply devout, and Mother wants to see it herself. It’s such a rare sight—I want to go too.”
Fu Huang said, “You’re always whining about how tired you are, but you’ve got the energy for this?”
“Learning doesn’t happen overnight! Besides, I haven’t even been outside the palace once. Even the ministers get one day off every ten.”
Fu Huang said nothing.
Lately, he wasn’t as brooding and gloomy as when they first met—but somehow, he’d become much stricter.
Fu Ye was starting to suspect Fu Huang didn’t want to be his older brother—he wanted to be his father.
But Fu Huang had been in a good mood lately, and the next day, he actually agreed to go—and insisted on going with him.
Fu Huang ruled with harsh laws and an iron will. At times, he even resorted to excessive punishments. To both officials and commoners, he had a fearsome reputation as a ruthless killer.
An ideal ruler, however, should appoint the virtuous, welcome honest advice, uphold the law, and show compassion.
Like the Empress Dowager—she was known for her mercy, always praying and chanting, a true symbol of Buddhist benevolence.
Fu Ye thought the emperor could really stand to take a page from her book.
When news spread that the emperor himself would be visiting Dingzhou, Empress Dowager Zhang was startled.
The emperor’s behavior had been growing stranger by the day—this transformation rivaled the shock of his earlier changes.
The empress dowager and emperor’s personal visit brought even more fame to the mysterious stone Buddha. Once word got out, the capital’s nobles all made plans—some chose to go the same day, while others went earlier to avoid the crowds. Those who returned said the statue had a dignified, holy presence unlike anything seen before, and that the roads were packed with carts and people, incense smoke curling skyward.
It was the second day of the second lunar month—Dragon Raises Its Head Day, a good day for travel.
Fu Huang told Fu Ye to ride in the same carriage with him.
After breakfast, Chamberlain Qin helped Fu Huang dress and reported, “His Highness the Prince is already waiting in the courtyard.”
Fu Huang said, “He’s eager.”
Qin chuckled. “The prince’s been cooped up in the palace too long.”
Fu Huang said, “He used to work in a foreign noble household. He could go out freely then?”
Qin replied, “This old servant doesn’t know the details. But out there in the barbarian lands, I doubt they had many rules.” Then he smiled again, “It’s a rare outing—His Highness really went all out dressing up today.”
Fu Huang was curious what “all out” looked like. When he stepped out of the hall, he was greeted with a blazing sight.
Fu Ye stood there dressed in a bright red zhusi silk robe embroidered with golden dragons, a gold-embellished belt, and a crown threaded with gold—he was absolutely dazzling in red and gold.
Fu Huang frowned slightly as Fu Ye approached, his face lit up with excitement. Still, the young man was respectful and bowed with proper decorum. “Elder Brother!”
Seeing how happy he was, Fu Huang didn’t dampen his mood. He merely gave him a long, assessing look.
In fact, that bright, radiant face of his made the flamboyant outfit seem almost understated.
It was still that same face—but flushed with joy, it practically glowed. The liveliness and brilliance of it were simply too captivating.
At the third quarter of the si-hour (roughly 9:45 AM), the gates of the palace swung open. The Empress Dowager, the Emperor, and Prince Huan left the palace, leading an impressive procession of imperial relatives, including the Dowager’s mother, Lady Qin of the State of Qin, en route to Dingzhou.
Several court officials and their families joined as well.
And many people witnessed something extraordinary: Prince Huan and the Emperor riding in the same carriage.
Winter had passed, and the early signs of spring were visible—the willows were beginning to bud, and new grass peeked through the soil. The countryside outside the capital had a beauty all its own at this time of year. The Emperor ordered the curtains of the imperial carriage rolled up, allowing many of the nobles in the procession to catch a glimpse of the Emperor and Prince Huan seated side by side.
The imperial carriage, over several zhang long, wasn’t as ornate or richly adorned with silks and jewels as the Empress Dowager’s, but made of ebony with oiled wheels, it had an imposing and dignified presence. A few eunuchs stood by in service, but everyone’s eyes were drawn to the two most prominent passengers.
The Emperor, tall and youthful, had a solemn air—his presence alone was enough to command respect.
Beside him sat Prince Huan, a vision of grace and beauty, like a cherry blossom blooming in the mountains—his elegance and charm almost beyond description.
Especially those close enough to see them clearly found the contrast between the brothers stark and striking.
The royal family had never been lacking in good looks—princes and princesses alike were known for their beauty, though typically it was a stately kind of beauty: round faces, commanding presence, tall and strong builds—what was known as “noble bearing.” In particular, the sons of the late Emperor Wuzong were all adept at riding and archery, clearly suited to lead armies. Even though the current Emperor was lean, he was tall and his frame was tough and solid.
But this Prince Huan…
He was simply too beautiful.
So beautiful that he hardly seemed like a son of Wuzong at all.
As sunlight filtered into the carriage, it caught on the embroidered silk of Fu Ye’s robe, making it gleam. His face alone was one thing, but even his skin and hair seemed to shine—the elegance of his appearance could stir the hearts of the entire realm.
And their personalities couldn’t have been more different.
Fu Ye was like the morning sun in spring—handsome, cheerful, approachable. Fu Huang, in contrast, carried the cold air of blue steel, rarely smiling, exuding the sense of someone hard to please.
It made people wonder—was this missing prince really who he claimed to be?
But since Prince Huan now enjoyed the Emperor’s favor, no one dared speak their doubts aloud.
Lady Qin, the Empress Dowager’s mother, sighed, “Prince Huan’s looks… they border on the bewitching. Once we reach the temple, he should offer up a sincere prayer.”
Chief Palace Attendant Sun laughed and said, “I heard that when the founding emperor of Dayong first took the throne, his power was still shaky. He had two younger brothers, both stunningly handsome. Whenever he went out, he liked to bring them along. People who saw them all together would say: ‘This is what royal majesty looks like.’ Now, with Prince Huan’s elegance, it’s surely a blessing to our imperial house as well.”
The Empress Dowager added, “That face of his earns more goodwill than the Emperor’s ever could.”
Lady Qin went silent, clearly too stunned to continue.
Whenever the Emperor traveled, a group of civil officials would come along to record his words and actions—and also compose poetry in his praise. Some of the young nobles traveling with them would occasionally contribute a few verses as well.
Now that both the Empress Dowager and Prince Huan were part of the journey, it was only natural that they were included in the poetic flattery.
Fu Ye read through their compositions: the Empress Dowager was praised as “gracious and serene, a light of virtue”; the Emperor as “majestic as heaven’s own son, solemn as the sun itself.”
For him?
“Features stacked like flawless jade, bearing like a golden tree blooming with silver flowers.”
He was delighted.
He had no objection at all to being the beautiful prince everyone praised.
“A bright moon emerges from behind the clouds,
As if a celestial being descended from Paradise.
Its pure light graces the mortal world,
Awakening a hundred flowers in a single night.”
Fu Ye sighed in admiration. “Beautiful. That’s a damn fine poem.”
Fu Huang thought maybe it was time for him to learn to write poetry himself.
At the very least… he should start learning what actually made a poem good.
Fu Ye noticed the look of distaste on his brother’s face and explained, “Sure, there are better poems out there—but those aren’t about me. This is the first time someone’s ever written a poem just for me.”
He leaned against the carriage window and asked, “Who wrote it?”
From outside, a court eunuch replied, “Your Highness, it was composed by Xie Liangbi of the Golden Armor Guard.”
Fu Ye immediately commented, “A military officer with that kind of literary flair? That’s impressive!”
He scanned the ranks of the Golden Armor Guard, catching only a blur of gleaming armor. He couldn’t tell which one was Xie Liangbi. Instead, a few young noblemen nearby turned visibly red and quickly averted their eyes.
Fu Ye, on the other hand, looked pleased with himself, leaning lazily against the window frame, wearing a smug, flirtatious smile. He clearly knew he was attractive—and he was using it to draw attention, quite intentionally.
Fu Huang ordered the curtains dropped.
“That’s enough. You’ve shown off more than enough.”
Fu Ye replied innocently, “Why don’t I get down and ride a horse, then?”
Fu Huang glanced at him. “Or should we just turn around and head back to the palace?”
That shut Fu Ye up immediately.
The spring sunshine was beautiful today, and the road was filled with handsome young men. He was young and full of life—was it really such a crime to look?
He was starting to realize that Fu Huang took this kind of thing very seriously.
It reminded him of those strict parents who obsessively guard against their kids dating too early.
Just because he planned to stay single, did that mean no one else was allowed to enjoy themselves either?
Fu Ye looked over at Fu Huang, who had already closed his eyes. Even with the curtain drawn, soft daylight still filtered into the carriage. Fu Huang was dressed plainly as always, though the color today was fresher and younger—a formal robe of ochre yellow embroidered with a prominent dragon motif, stately and noble.
His features were sharp and lean, striking yet austere. He looked like someone who always meant what he said, whose authority couldn’t be questioned.
Honestly, he didn’t feel like a brother at all.
More like a father.
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