Chapter 46: Was That Your Edict? (The Truth Begins)

Chapter 46: Was That Your Oral Decree? (The Truth Begins)

Zhang Fu, seeing the person sleeping soundly on the emperor's dragon bed, couldn't help commenting:

"Your Majesty, your health can't handle any jostling. Does the Marquis sleep peacefully? Should I take the Marquis to the side hall to rest instead?"

Xiao Chen hesitated for a moment, recalling Ling Yehan's sleeping posture from before. However, Zhang Fu's earlier words made his heart ache, and as he looked at the rosy-cheeked man sleeping on his stomach, he softened and waved his hand:

"No need to bother."

He then glanced at the bare, swollen buttocks, feeling both sympathetic and amused. He reached out and pulled up the man's undergarments, then glanced up at Zhang Fu:

"Carefully turn him over."

Zhang Fu and two palace attendants carefully turned the recently beaten Marquis over, instructing while they worked:

"On his side. The imperial physician said the Marquis must not put pressure on the injury tonight."

After settling the sleeping man to face the emperor on the inner side, Zhang Fu bowed slightly and slipped out through the curtains. He trimmed the candles, drew the curtains, and the inner chamber dimmed. Xiao Chen, utterly exhausted, couldn't resist poking the forehead of the face turned toward him before settling onto the inner side of the bed. The steady breathing of the person beside him filled his ears. Though his body was weary, he couldn't sleep at all.

As soon as he closed his eyes, Ling Yehan's tearful words from earlier replayed in his mind. In his previous life, he had given birth to their precious son alone, shouldered the burdens of the court alone. In moments of exhaustion and pain, he had thought of the man far away in Yongzhou, and had resented him. Waiting until the very end to summon him back to the capital had been partly intentional, meant to make him regret his entire life. Though in the end, Xiao Chen couldn't bear it, fate played its cruel trick, and he never saw him again before his death. Ling Yehan must have indeed regretted it for half his life.

Separated for two lifetimes, reunited with an old acquaintance. He had thought him a heartless ingrate, but today he discovered he was merely a timid, cowardly pup, afraid of being abandoned his whole life. This revelation felt absurd and ironic even to Xiao Chen, who was accustomed to life's twists and turns. Entangled for half a lifetime, ending with regret—how heartbreaking?

His jumbled thoughts eventually succumbed to physical exhaustion. Xiao Chen didn't know when he fell asleep, only that he grew increasingly hot, as if a furnace were burrowing into his arms. He tried to retreat from the heat, but it seemed to have legs, persistently pressing against him. Finally, irritated, he pushed hard, trying to shove the furnace away.

"Mmm..."

A soft murmur woke Xiao Chen. By the faint candlelight filtering through the curtains, he saw that the "furnace" relentlessly burrowing into him was Ling Yehan's head... Ling Yehan had pushed him back until his back was against the inner wall, while the man beside him lay curled sideways on the dragon bed like a shrimp, feet at one end, head nestled in Xiao Chen's arms—well, until he'd been pushed away.

Ling Yehan's fever hadn't fully broken; he instinctively sought cooler spots, his head still nuzzling into Xiao Chen's neck, whimpering and squirming closer. Xiao Chen protectively placed a hand on his belly, pushing against the man still pressing close. Afraid of harming the child, he couldn't use much force and was no match for the stubborn strength of the sleeping fool.

The two struggled on the bed for what felt like ages until Ling Yehan finally settled, his stomach pressed against Xiao Chen's belly, his arms wrapped around Xiao Chen's waist as if guarding a treasure, his head buried in the crook of Xiao Chen's neck.

Xiao Chen's eyes opened and closed, closed and opened. He remembered that in the year he first found Ling Yehan, the boy had liked to sleep curled up, hugging a quilt with his back against the wall. This distant memory made him suppress the urge to have someone drag the man out of bed.

Morning light streamed through the window lattice into the inner chamber, scattering into a soft, hazy glow as it passed through the bright yellow silk curtains.

Ling Yehan's fever had broken, and he was drenched in sweat. When he opened his eyes, he was disoriented, unsure of his whereabouts. Then he realized he seemed to be holding someone. He jerked his head up, and the sight before him stole his breath. Xiao Chen lay beside him, his head turned, dark hair spread across the pillow, his long, narrow eyes closed, thick lashes like crow's feathers resting beneath them. The soft light fell on his face, softening his usually sharp features.

After what felt like an eternity, his muddled mind began to work. He had cut his neck, drunk alcohol, offended Xiao Chen in the Zichen Hall, been caned, and then... then he had tearfully poured his heart out to this man. The memories of the previous day flooded his mind like a torrent, chilling Ling Yehan to the bone. What had he done? In just one day, just one day! He wished it were a dream, but the burning, swollen pain in his buttocks reminded him it was all real. He truly had the talent to commit so many sins in a single day.

He strained to recall what Xiao Chen had said after his shameful display, but he couldn't remember. And how had he ended up on the dragon bed?

Suddenly, the lashes of the person beside him fluttered, and his breathing changed rhythm. Just as Ling Yehan considered pretending to still be asleep, the man opened his eyes. Ling Yehan found himself staring into that gaze with his own swollen eyes.

Ling Yehan opened his mouth, but all words stuck in his throat. Seeing those finally clear eyes, Xiao Chen yawned wearily, his voice husky with sleep:

"If you're awake, move over there."

Only then did Ling Yehan notice their positions—he had nearly pushed Xiao Chen against the wall. He bolted upright, ignoring the stinging pain in his backside, and hurriedly checked on Xiao Chen:

"I... I sleep unruly. Did I hurt you or the child?"

Xiao Chen had been kept awake for the first half of the night and squeezed by Ling Yehan for the second. He hadn't slept well at all. Now, his eyes were sore, his body weak. He didn't want to open his eyes or have any movement around him. Frowning, he slapped the bed. Ling Yehan immediately fell silent, not daring to make noise. Reluctant to get up, he lay back down quietly. With his eyes open, he could see Xiao Chen's peaceful sleeping face. He even felt that his presence on Xiao Chen's bed was more unreal than the Western Barbarians' leader surrendering without a fight and kowtowing to him eighteen times.

Xiao Chen finally woke properly an hour later. Opening his eyes, he saw the man staring at him with wide, ox-like eyes, a mix of guilt, regret, and attachment in his gaze. Xiao Chen sighed and tried to sit up a bit, but a tearing pain shot through his waist. He closed his eyes, enduring it, and when he opened them again, he naturally raised a hand toward Ling Yehan.

Ling Yehan blinked and immediately leaned over, one hand supporting Xiao Chen's arm, the other cradling his lower back, gently helping him sit up. Through the thin sleep robes, he could feel the warmth of Xiao Chen's body and the gently rounded belly pressing against him. His breathing involuntarily quickened. Suppressing all emotion, he carefully settled Xiao Chen against the soft pillows and tentatively, secretly began to massage the stiff muscles around his waist.

Xiao Chen felt the subtle movement, opened his eyes, and reached up to press the back of his hand against Ling Yehan's forehead. The burning fever had subsided.

"Clear-headed now?"

The prickly man from yesterday was docile today. Seeing the weariness in Xiao Chen's eyes, Ling Yehan didn't dare show any thorns. He nodded.

"Mm."

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Ling Yehan dug his nails into his palm and nodded again, as if resigned.

"Mm."

What was said was said. There was no medicine for regret. Whatever punishment Xiao Chen decided, he would accept.

Xiao Chen focused his gaze on him.

"Yesterday, you repeatedly said you knew I didn't want to see you, that you should find your own place. Who did you hear such words from?"

He had pondered it last night. All of Ling Yehan's actions in his previous life stemmed from believing Xiao Chen had abandoned him. Though the man's mind was indeed hopelessly simple, it was unlikely he'd trapped himself in Yongzhou for five years based on imagination alone. The root cause probably lay in those words.

The question made Ling Yehan pause. Then he immediately detected something off in Xiao Chen's tone. He carefully recalled the events of that day and murmured,

"That day, I woke up and you weren't in the room. Then, Xu Jing came in and said it was the Emperor's oral decree: once I woke, I was to find my own place and need not enter the palace again."

Xiao Chen narrowed his eyes. Xu Jing, now the steward of the Marquis of Jingbian's residence, who had saved Ling Yehan's life several times on the battlefield. So it was him.

Even Ling Yehan would have to be a fool not to realize something was wrong now. Though years had passed, he remembered every detail of that day clearly, even Xu Jing's expression as he delivered the message. He suddenly looked up, meeting Xiao Chen's calm gaze. An unbelievable, secret hope surged within him. Could it be? After two lifetimes, he finally found the courage to ask Xiao Chen directly:

"Was... was that your oral decree?"

Ling Yehan's breathing quickened; his heart hammered against his ribs like a drum. His hands clenched into fists unconsciously, his fingertips turning white.

"What do you think?"

Ling Yehan's throat tightened; he was too tense to make a sound. If it was wrong from the very start... then what had he done afterward?

Xiao Chen spoke gravely:

"In your heart, am I the kind of person who, when faced with trouble, avoids it and simply sends people away?"

Ling Yehan's mind felt like it had exploded. It was as if he were back in that absurd day. He had known he was finished the moment he woke up. He had believed Xu Jing's words without a shred of doubt. It wasn't so much that he thought Xiao Chen was someone who avoided problems; rather, he himself had lacked the courage to face Xiao Chen. All strength seemed to drain from his body. For the first time, Ling Yehan felt that the decades of his previous life had been a joke.