The news that Xiao Ying had spent a fortune at Shuyu Pavilion to book an exceptionally beautiful male courtesan had long since spread into the palace like wildfire. Naturally, through a special network of informants, it also reached Consort Wan’s ears.
For the first time, the usually gentle and virtuous Consort Wan, who could remain composed even with Mount Tai collapsing before her, developed a crack in her dignified expression.
She knew her son far too well.
Although Xiao Ying often frequented pleasure quarters, at most he merely drank and made merry with a group of spoiled young noblemen, recited poetry, and watched dances.
He had never truly thrown money around for anyone, much less supported someone or bought their freedom.
Xiao Ying was already nineteen this year.
Ordinary princes usually selected their consorts at fifteen and married at sixteen.
At nineteen, without even the shadow of a principal consort, he was already extremely late.
Unfortunately, his reputation outside the palace was simply too terrible, and he had no real authority in his hands. Ordinary prestigious families simply did not dare push their daughters into this pit of fire.
Consort Wan had privately urged him several times before, saying that she did not ask for a match of equal status. As long as the person’s family background was clean and their personalities suited each other, that would be enough.
But Xiao Ying always brushed her off with a casual, “I haven’t met anyone I like.”
Could it be… that her Ying’er truly liked men!?
Just as Consort Wan was anxiously overthinking everything in the palace hall, a young eunuch outside gently announced that Prince Yi had already entered the palace and would soon arrive at Jinglan Courtyard.
Consort Wan took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled the corners of her lips upward.
“Mama Zhang, look at my smile… Does it look natural?”
Mama Zhang carefully examined her and respectfully replied, “Your Highness, it is slightly stiff. Perhaps you could relax a little more.”
Consort Wan helplessly rubbed her brow.
“All right. I understand.”
Before long, Xiao Ying’s carefree, somewhat rakish figure stepped into Jinglan Courtyard.
“Ying’er, you’re here.”
Consort Wan stepped forward to greet him, putting on a face full of gentle smiles.
She immediately turned her head and instructed, “Mama Zhang, bring out the ‘Milk Wu Ta.'”
She turned back to her son, her eyes full of maternal affection.
“Mother made Milk Wu Ta for you herself. Hurry and taste it.”
Before long, Mama Zhang brought over two delicate plates of pastries.
There were six pieces on each plate, each roughly the size of a chess piece, skillfully shaped into square flowers.
Three colors—pale pink, water green, and light yellow—intertwined together. Their exquisite elegance carried a refreshing hint of coolness.
Xiao Ying speared one with a silver pick and placed it into his mouth.
The pastry melted instantly on his tongue. It was rich with the fragrance of milk, sweet without being cloying.
“Mother’s skills are still as good as ever.”
Xiao Ying’s expression relaxed as he smiled in praise, looking completely satisfied.
“Of course.”
Mama Zhang smiled as she chimed in from the side.
“Your Highness went to great lengths to find the authentic recipe and method. She personally got up before dawn to boil everything. The heat needed to set it is especially difficult to control during this season, and once it was finished, it had to be immediately placed in the ice room to chill.”
“You’ve gone to all this trouble for me, Mother.”
A hint of warmth flashed through Xiao Ying’s eyes.
Mother and son chatted idly for a while, and the atmosphere in the hall gradually relaxed.
Consort Wan lifted her teacup, her tone casual, as though she were merely mentioning something in passing.
“Ying’er, have you heard that grain prices in the north have been outrageously expensive lately?”
Xiao Ying was just spearing his second piece of Milk Wu Ta. At her words, he did not even raise his head.
“I’ve heard a few friends mention it. Apparently, the price of a dou of rice in the north has already increased three or four times. It’s almost enough to cover an ordinary family’s food expenses for half a month, and people are still scrambling to buy it. Whether it’s true or not, I haven’t seen it with my own eyes.”
Consort Wan gave a soft laugh.
“Jiangnan, on the other hand, has had an unusually good harvest this year. I’ve heard rice has become so cheap that even the farmers at the bottom are shaking their heads and sighing.”
“How coincidental.”
Xiao Ying finished the pastry and set down the silver pick, his tone still casual.
“The cheap stuff can’t be sold, and the expensive stuff can’t be bought. Fortunately… the Lin family’s trade routes are still open.”
Consort Wan’s hand holding the teacup paused slightly, and she glanced at him.
Grain prices in the Northern Border were abnormal, yet… goods from the Lin family could still move in and out.
The Lin family’s trade routes mainly dealt in expensive goods such as salt, tea, and silk. They had nothing to do with grain, but manipulating the routes would not be difficult.
Having confirmed the important matter, Consort Wan abruptly changed the subject, her gaze fixed tightly on Xiao Ying.
“I heard… you’ve recently made a new friend?”
Xiao Ying’s hand paused slightly as he wiped his fingers with a handkerchief.
He then raised his head and smiled with an entirely open and gentle expression.
“Yes. His name is Yue Xi. He’s a very beautiful boy, though his temperament is a little unruly.”
Consort Wan’s heart suddenly jumped.
She cautiously asked, “Do you like him very much?”
“Who doesn’t like beautiful things?”
Xiao Ying smiled, his eyes glimmering with amusement, no different from usual.
Looking at her son’s expression, Consort Wan relaxed slightly.
Prince Yi’s residence already housed a great many beautiful but useless things, from peacocks that spread their tails to precious snow-lion cats, not to mention the exotic flowers and rare plants filling the gardens.
It seemed that this Yue Xi was, at least for now, merely a slightly more expensive plaything to him.
As long as he had not developed genuine feelings, whether a man or a male courtesan, in the end he was merely something Xiao Ying had taken an interest in on a whim, perhaps simply for the sake of making some noise.
As for that sum of money… she decided that she would have Mama Zhang check the accounts later and see exactly how much had been spent. She would also investigate Yue Xi’s background while she was at it, so that she could know what she was dealing with.
“Ying’er, you’re already nineteen. You can’t keep fooling around like this forever.”
Consort Wan spoke earnestly.
“Have you ever considered settling down?”
Xiao Ying raised an eyebrow and coaxed her with a grin.
“Mother doesn’t need to worry. Your son hasn’t had enough fun yet. Besides, Seventh Brother is already twenty-five and still isn’t married. When the time comes, I’ll obediently start a family and build a career. I absolutely won’t give you anything to worry about.”
Seeing his attitude, Consort Wan was speechless, but she did let go of some of the weight in her heart.
At least Xiao Ying had considered settling down.
◆◇◆◇◆
After leaving Jinglan Courtyard, Xiao Ying strolled through the long corridors of the deep palace.
Before passing a corner, he suddenly gave a look to the trusted aide following behind him.
The aide understood immediately and silently disappeared around the corner.
Xiao Ying then stopped and gently said to the eunuch leading the way ahead, “Eunuch, please wait here for a moment.”
As he spoke, he discreetly slipped something into the eunuch’s hand.
The eunuch glanced down and saw that it was a fine jade pendant of exceptional quality.
His face immediately lit up with a smile, and he lowered his head before quietly stepping aside to wait.
Xiao Ying turned around and casually walked into a deeper section of the corridor, outside the eunuch’s line of sight.
There, his trusted aide had already silently blocked the path of a thin young eunuch.
“Ninth Brother. It really is you.”
Xiao Ying stepped forward and looked down at the person before him.
Once might have been a coincidence.
But the second time could hardly be called a coincidence.
He could almost be certain that his Ninth Imperial Brother had deliberately approached Jinglan Courtyard.
The young eunuch wore an old palace uniform that had been washed until its original color had faded. He looked completely inconspicuous.
The only distinctive feature was his thin face. Long bangs almost covered half of the right side of his face, and beneath them, his right eye was covered by a black eyepatch.
Xiao Ying knew very well what was hidden beneath that eyepatch.
The Ninth Prince, Xiao Wei, had a pair of heterochromatic eyes.
His left eye was no different from an ordinary person’s, but his right eye was a clear, pale blue like a glacier.
It was his identifying feature.
Xiao Wei’s birth mother had been a dancer from a small Western Regions kingdom, offered to the imperial palace as a political bargaining chip.
Because of her low status and her pair of blue eyes, she completely lost favor not long after entering the palace and died of sorrow in one of the palace’s cold, neglected quarters.
Although Xiao Wei had been listed as a prince, with blood from a small Western Regions kingdom running through his veins, he had been branded from the moment of his birth as someone who had absolutely no chance of competing for the throne.
Even Xiao Ying found it somewhat surprising that he had managed to survive this long.
His identity exposed on the spot, Xiao Wei did not struggle. He merely stared silently at Xiao Ying with his dark left eye without saying a word.
“As an imperial prince, why disguise yourself as a eunuch?”
Xiao Ying’s gaze darkened slightly, and there was a hint of dangerous probing in his voice.
“Hiding here—what exactly are you trying to see?”
He had no choice but to be cautious.
The network of informants within the palace was complicated and intertwined. Xiao Wei might have been ordered by some faction to specifically monitor Jinglan Courtyard.
If that were truly the case, Xiao Ying would not be able to consider any so-called brotherly affection.
Although, truthfully, there had never been any brotherly affection between him and Xiao Wei to begin with.
Xiao Wei remained as silent as a stone.
Xiao Ying gave a soft laugh, lightly tapping his folded fan against his palm.
“If you don’t speak soon, Your Eighth Imperial Brother… might start making certain assumptions.”
Only then did Xiao Wei’s dry lips move slightly.
His voice was hoarse, nothing like that of a young man his age.
“…We’re the same.”
The movement of Xiao Ying’s folded fan abruptly stopped.
He looked at this Ninth Brother who seemed as though he could merge into the shadows of the palace walls at any moment.
Xiao Wei’s situation was actually identical to Xiao Yuan’s in the past.
No maternal clan behind him.
No mother to protect him.
No power or influence.
No regard from the Emperor.
At any moment, he could become a stepping stone in someone else’s struggle for power.
Xiao Wei’s position could even be said to be the most precarious among the nine princes.
All along, Xiao Wei had behaved in the palace like a stone that could never trip anyone.
He had chosen the most thorough form of mediocrity.
When he practiced archery, he was guaranteed to miss the target.
When he rode a horse, he was certain to fall.
When he studied, he never sought to understand anything deeply.
Even the palace tutors could only shake their heads and sigh, “The Ninth Prince has been slow to open his mind.”
He quietly shrank into his remote residence.
The palace servants neither bullied nor befriended him, as though this person did not exist in the palace at all.
Even Xiao Ying and Xiao Yuan had almost no interaction with him in their daily lives.
Even when they encountered each other, they had nothing to say.
Even the Emperor only remembered that he had a youngest son with heterochromatic eyes during the New Year court gatherings.
Making everyone completely forget that he existed was Xiao Wei’s method of survival.
They had a similar problem.
At least Xiao Yuan was still standing in front of them now.
As long as their Seventh Brother continued holding military power in the Northern Border, those truly watching the throne would not immediately turn their eyes toward powerless fringe princes like them.
But once this shield fell, they would be the next ones to be purged and devoured.
They were different from those princes who had been born more than a decade before them.
By the time those men had already begun building their own factions in court, the two of them had either still been in their mothers’ wombs or had only just learned to crawl.
Not to mention that they themselves possessed little real power or background.
Xiao Ying folded away his fan and quietly thought for a moment.
Xiao Wei was currently the only underage prince in the palace.
No one would guard against a “transparent person.”
“Walking around the palace disguised like this, you’ve never been discovered?”
“This is the identity of a eunuch who died.”
Xiao Wei answered calmly.
“He was originally a low-ranking servant who was transferred between the various palaces. He had no fixed master. When he died, I was the only one who knew… I’ve been using his identity for a long time. No one discovered me except you.”
He did not say that this little eunuch had actually been someone he had been fairly close to.
The man had died on a night no one would ever know about.
In the deep palace, the death of an insignificant eunuch whom no one cared about was hardly something anyone would investigate.
And he had used that identity to survive.
Xiao Ying was secretly shocked.
He realized that perhaps his younger brother had been living under two identities within the deep palace all this time.
Such restraint and cunning were absolutely not something a useless fool who had “failed to open his mind” could possess.
“Do you want to live?”
Xiao Ying asked quietly.
“Of course.”
Xiao Wei answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Good.”
Xiao Ying nodded.
“If you want to live, then write down everything you see and hear in the palace with those eyes of yours. Find a way to pass it all to the people at Jinglan Courtyard. As for Mother, I’ll make the arrangements myself.”
Xiao Wei did not hesitate. He nodded heavily.
He had secretly observed Xiao Ying and Consort Wan for a long time.
He knew very well that with this body of his, lacking any background or support, he could not possibly survive to adulthood in this palace that devoured people.
Or rather, the moment he reached adulthood, he might become the next target.
He had to demonstrate his value and find a powerful tree capable of sheltering him.
Xiao Ying might not be that reliable. If trouble arose, he might not necessarily be able to protect him.
But at least Xiao Ying had no intention of sitting around and waiting for death.
Neither did he.
“However, remember this.”
Xiao Ying took a step backward, once again returning to his lazy demeanor.
“In public, we’ll remain exactly as we were before. We’ll have no connection whatsoever and keep our distance.”
Finally, he reminded him,
“Today, I never saw you here.”
Xiao Wei nodded again.
“All right. You can go now. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Xiao Wei walked several steps before slightly turning his head to glance at the Eighth Brother he had hardly ever spoken to.
Then he hurried away.
Watching that thin figure in blue disappear like a ghost at the end of the corridor, Xiao Ying finally straightened his robes and slowly stepped out from around the corner.
He walked up to the eunuch who had been waiting for him for quite some time.
The smile at the corner of his lips was flawless, as though he had merely gone around the corner to admire some flowers.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Eunuch. Let’s go.”
The group resumed walking.
Xiao Ying did not truly believe everything his younger brother had said.
Nor was he sympathizing with Xiao Wei’s situation or intending to protect him.
He did not know what Xiao Wei was capable of.
If Xiao Wei truly wanted to survive, he would have to prove what he could do.
Xiao Ying looked toward the towering palace walls.
If someone was holding back the snow and wind in the Northern Border,
then he would do his best in the capital to make sure that shield remained standing for as long as possible.
Not for Seventh Brother.
But to protect the bottom line in his own heart.
◇◆◇◆◇
Early in the morning, the training grounds outside Linbei City were already filled with a grim atmosphere as the soldiers drilled in preparation for the coming war.
Yet the wounded soldiers’ camp in the northwest corner outside the city presented a completely different sense of order from before.
Xiao Yuan wore a dark robe patterned with subtle black designs. He had not brought a large entourage, merely several personal guards as he made his usual inspection rounds.
In the past, the wounded soldiers’ camp had been the most terrifying “Gate of Hell” in the entire Northern Border Army.
Whenever anyone approached within a mile of the wounded camp, the air would already carry a suffocating stench of blood and decay, with swarms of flies buzzing everywhere.
There was a saying in the army: “Better to take three cuts than enter the wounded camp.”
Because of the soldiers who entered this place, six or seven out of ten did not die from injuries that were too severe, but from festering wounds and fever.
But now, the scene was completely different from several months ago.
The moment Xiao Yuan stepped into the outer perimeter of the camp, the first thing he smelled was actually the clean, bitter fragrance of mugwort incense, along with the dry scent of cloth that had been boiled in water.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he followed the smooth, clean earthen path forward.
The entire camp had been reorganized.
Wide ventilation passages had been left between the tents.
Ventilation openings had cleverly been added to the tops of every large tent. The curtains were pulled open, breaking up the dark, damp corners that had once trapped stale air and allowing broad swaths of sunlight to enter.
Several tall bamboo poles stood outside the tents. Strips of cloth and cotton fabric that had just been boiled in large pots of water and then bleached under the blazing sun hung from them, white and bright.
Clear boundaries had been marked around the edges of the camp with raw lime.
Wastewater was directed into dedicated channels.
Filth was burned separately.
The ground was swept completely clean, without a trace of the bloodied cloth and grime that had once been thrown around everywhere.
Ever since Su Muchen had taken up the position of military adviser and taken charge of reforming the wounded soldiers’ camp, this place that had once been filled with the shadow of death had, for the first time, gained a sense of vigorous life.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
The military doctors and medical orderlies responsible for patrols all stood at attention and saluted when they saw Xiao Yuan.
Xiao Yuan noticed that the medical orderlies were all wearing uniform, clean linen outer garments, and their faces were covered with the specially made masks Su Muchen had brought from the modern world.
He gave a slight nod, his gaze falling on several enormous wooden boards standing before the main tent.
Simple words had been written on them:
[Minor Injuries Area]
[Serious Injuries Area]
[Isolation Area]
[Observation Area]
This was the first ironclad rule Su Muchen had established after becoming military adviser—classifying the wounded.
In the past, wounded soldiers had all been thrown into the same tent regardless of the severity of their injuries or whether they had developed a fever or contracted an illness.
Often, once one person’s wound became infected and they developed a fever, everyone in the entire tent would become infected with the disease.
Now, soldiers newly carried in from the battlefield underwent strict examination at the entrance and were classified according to the severity of their injuries.
Different-colored strips of cloth were tied around the wrists of every wounded soldier.
Blue represented minor injuries.
Green represented moderate injuries.
Yellow represented more serious injuries requiring bed rest.
Red meant their life was hanging by a thread and they required immediate emergency treatment.
Orange was a special marking.
Even if the wound was merely a minor scrape, once the soldier began developing a high fever, an orange strip had to be put on immediately, and the soldier sent to the isolation area for observation.
Medical officers and attending soldiers moved back and forth among them in perfect order. There was no longer the chaos of emergency treatment and cross-infection that had plagued the camp before.
Xiao Yuan lifted the curtain of the [Serious Injuries Area] and walked inside.
The tent was clean and orderly.
Beds were arranged in a neat row, elevated above the ground and covered with cloth that had been boiled, scalded, sun-dried, and thoroughly cleaned.
The festering, foul-smelling wounds that had once been visible everywhere were now almost nonexistent.
A faint herbal scent drifted through the air.
A soldier who had just undergone wound debridement and suturing lay on one of the beds.
His face was pale, but his eyes were clear, and his forehead was no longer burning.
“His wound hasn’t become infected?”
Xiao Yuan asked quietly, turning to the military doctor beside him.
The military doctor’s eyes were full of admiration as he hurriedly answered,
“Your Highness, ever since Military Adviser Su established the rules of ‘boiling the instruments,’ ‘cleaning our hands,’ and ‘boiling the cloth in water,’ the number of wounded soldiers whose wounds become red, swollen, and infected has decreased by seventy to eighty percent. In the past, after suffering a knife wound, the thing the army feared most was fever and suppuration. Now, most wounded soldiers can actually make it safely through those most dangerous few days!”
Xiao Yuan was slightly moved.
In war, the greatest losses often did not come from soldiers killed outright on the battlefield, but from elite troops who died of infections after being wounded.
What Su Muchen had done was equivalent to saving the lives of thousands of veteran soldiers out of thin air.
When he reached the rear of the camp, the rich fragrance of meat-and-bone soup hit his nose.
Following the smell, Xiao Yuan looked toward the distant cooking hearths.
Several enormous iron pots were boiling vigorously. Inside was a thick, milky-white soup made from pork bones and beans. Beside them sat a large bucket of boiled eggs and coarse-grain cakes.
“The military adviser said that if a wound is going to grow new flesh, thin porridge alone won’t do. Every day, they must get enough meat, eggs, beans, and salt.”
The cook smiled so broadly his mouth nearly reached his ears.
“In the past, the wounded soldiers were so hungry they were skin and bones. How could their wounds heal properly? Now they get soup every day, and they recover so much faster!”
Watching the wounded soldiers line up to receive hot soup, the desire to live once again shining in their eyes, an indescribable feeling rose in Xiao Yuan’s heart.
This improvement in nutrition had filled in the final—and most crucial—piece of the puzzle in caring for wounded soldiers.
When his inspection reached the deepest part of the camp, Xiao Yuan stopped outside the largest procedure tent.
He knew Su Muchen would be here today.
Xiao Yuan raised a hand to stop his guards from announcing him or following him inside.
He stood silently outside the tent alone, looking through a gap in the raised curtain.
The tent was brightly lit.
In the center stood a specially made narrow wooden bed covered with thick, clean cloth. A personal guard with a stab wound to his leg was lying on it.
Beside him stood a wooden rack holding hot water and medical instruments.
Xiao Yuan’s gaze first swept across the figure at the operating table—the “Military Adviser Su,” holding a small silver forceps and curved needle, concentrating on stitching the wound.
Then, without pausing for even a moment, his gaze landed precisely on the registrar standing nearby, responsible for disinfecting the instruments and passing gauze.
That was Su Muchen, disguised under the alias “Shen An.”
He had now officially joined the new military medical office as a registrar, assisting “Military Adviser Su” at his side.
“Thread it. Prepare to stitch.”
“Military Adviser Su” spoke softly without raising his head.
“Here.”
Shen An stood beside him.
Without even needing to exchange a glance, his hand had already steadily passed over the curved needle threaded with catgut.
His other hand, with perfect understanding, wiped the blood from the edges of the wound with a clean cloth.
He was responsible for disinfecting the boiled instruments and passing gauze.
The two worked together flawlessly, as though this unconventional method of treatment had been practiced between them countless times before.
“Bear with it. Two more stitches.”
“Military Adviser Su’s” voice was extremely gentle, carrying a soothing power that calmed the heart.
The rugged man lying there was drenched in cold sweat.
Yet when he looked at the “Military Adviser Su” before him, who seemed almost like an immortal, his eyes were filled with awe and gratitude, and he stubbornly did not make a single sound.
Tie the knot.
Cut the thread.
Apply clean cotton gauze and bandage the wound under pressure.
The entire sequence of movements flowed smoothly, cleanly and efficiently.
“Done.”
“Military Adviser Su” breathed a sigh of relief.
“Take him to the observation area. Keep him warm tonight. Every two hours, give him a small amount of warm salt water.”
“Yes, Military Adviser.”
Several medical orderlies carefully carried the wounded soldier out.
Only “Military Adviser Su” and Shen An remained in the tent.
“Muli,” disguised as “Military Adviser Su,” turned around and walked to the basin of clean water.
He carefully washed his hands with soap before putting his white gauze veil back over his face.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
A deep, steady voice, warm and resonant like a mountain, suddenly sounded from the entrance of the tent.
Su Muchen froze slightly and turned his head.
He saw Xiao Yuan standing tall and straight as a pine tree at the boundary between sunlight and shadow.
Those deep, night-dark eyes were quietly fixed upon him.
Seeing this, Muli bowed respectfully with excellent awareness of the situation.
“Greetings, Your Highness.”
Then he stepped aside.
“Why are you here?”
Su Muchen was somewhat surprised, but then a smile spread across his face.
“Inspecting the camp. I didn’t realize Military Adviser Su had already become a Bodhisattva in this wounded soldiers’ camp.”
Xiao Yuan looked down at him.
There was none of his usual sternness in his eyes.
Instead, they held tenderness and admiration.
Xiao Yuan turned his head and looked around at the bright, orderly tent.
“Before, out of every ten people who entered this place, five were carried out.”
He lowered his voice.
“I’ve been fighting wars for more than a decade. I’ve grown accustomed to watching my brothers under my command survive the enemy’s blades, only to die amid the agony of their wounds afterward…”
“I made a full inspection.”
Xiao Yuan looked at Su Muchen again, his tone extraordinarily solemn.
“The environment is clean. There is meat in their food. The wounded no longer suffer from festering wounds and fever.”
“You have given our soldiers a second life.”
Su Muchen felt somewhat embarrassed by the praise.
The corners of his lips curved into a faint, indifferent smile.
“I merely applied what I’ve learned. The soldiers are throwing their heads and spilling their blood for you on the front lines. Naturally, the path to survival behind them should be paved by us.”
“This is far more than merely ‘applying what you’ve learned.'”
Xiao Yuan gazed deeply at him.
Xiao Yuan knew that recently, Su Muchen had gotten up early every morning and rushed around nonstop.
And whenever he finally managed to sit down, he immediately began planning again.
Clean surroundings.
Wound disinfection.
Classification of injuries.
Nutritional supplementation.
These things seemed simple, but behind them lay countless considerations and the determination required to push through opposition and actually implement them.
The person standing before him looked delicate, but the strength of his character and breadth of his wisdom continued to shake him to the core every time.
“Are you tired?”
Xiao Yuan asked softly.
“I’m not tired.”
Su Muchen looked up.
There was a hint of weariness on his face, yet his eyes remained bright and energetic, the corners of his lips slightly curved.
“Seeing those brothers live long enough to return home and see their families makes everything worth it.”
Xiao Yuan looked into his clear, star-bright eyes, and a warm current surged through his chest.
On this barren, blood-soaked battlefield of the Northern Border, the person before him was like a ray of light tearing through the darkness.
He was not merely a military adviser sitting behind the scenes and calculating the fate of the world.
He was also someone who valued human life above the heavens themselves, someone whose gentleness had reached his very bones.
“Come.”
Xiao Yuan said,
“The inspection is finished. Come with me to the administrative office. I’ve had the kitchen stew some chicken soup for you. I had slices of ginseng added to it to help restore your strength.”
“Your Highness, haven’t you forgotten that I’m currently just a lowly registrar named ‘Shen An’?”
Su Muchen shook his head helplessly with a smile.
A dignified Prince Su personally coming to the wounded soldiers’ camp to pick up a registrar and bring him back to the administrative office for a meal—wouldn’t that sound ridiculous if word got out?
Xiao Yuan raised an eyebrow.
“Then I’ll bestow the chicken soup upon the ‘Military Adviser Su’ over there.”
Muli was suddenly pointed at by Prince Su.
His heart lurched, and cold sweat broke out across his body.
Why was he involved now?
He hurriedly replied,
“This subordinate wouldn’t dare!”
Seeing this, Su Muchen quickly said,
“Stop teasing him. I’ll drink it.”
A faint smile lingered at the corners of Xiao Yuan’s lips.
“I was only saying it casually. Don’t worry. Once we’re outside this tent, I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.”
The moment they stepped outside the tent, Xiao Yuan immediately withdrew all the tenderness from his eyes and returned to his original cold, stern expression.
He walked side by side with “Military Adviser Su,” looking no different from any other inspection they had conducted before.
“Shen An” quietly followed behind.
Su Muchen remembered that his current persona was supposed to be a quiet, taciturn registrar assisting the military adviser.
Yet when he looked at the “Prince Su” and “Military Adviser Su” before him, an inexplicable emotion rose within him.
He remembered those realistic problems that had been temporarily buried at the very bottom of his heart on that day, on the city wall beneath the afterglow of the setting sun.
Problems he had deliberately stopped himself from thinking about.
He knew clearly that love was beautiful, but reality was cruel.
If Xiao Yuan were to become an emperor in the future, then perhaps he would become an obstacle on Xiao Yuan’s path to the throne.
In Dasheng, although officials and members of noble families could have same-sex relationships with members of the imperial family, at most such a person could be taken as a concubine or remain only a private companion.
Beyond that, there was another even more practical problem.
Children.
It wasn’t that Su Muchen had never thought about it.
If Xiao Yuan eventually needed to marry a woman and have children, then he… would step aside and let him have what he needed.
He had thought about it rather freely.
But now, watching Xiao Yuan walk beside someone else, he realized that perhaps he wasn’t nearly as carefree as he had imagined.
Even though he knew perfectly well that this was only an act.
All the way back to the administrative office, Su Muchen could not stop thinking about these questions.