Chapter 48

Chapter 48

So it's true what they say about masters in stories; even when asleep, the slightest noise will rouse them. Take Wen Yu, for instance.

The Young Marquis's expression stiffened. After a moment's thought, he gave up on the idea of grabbing the fan.

He vaguely sensed that if Wen Yu had discovered it, he probably wouldn't be reacting so calmly.

So he quietly pulled his captured hand back, not only that, but he also turned his back to Wen Yu and lay down again. "I had to pee... but the feeling passed."

Wen Yu, however, sat up. His voice came from behind, as if whispered right in his ear. "No strength?"

Luo Qianyu had a bad feeling. If he said he had no strength, Wen Yu might actually do something like carry him to the bathroom... Tonight, he had nearly lost his virtue, and his personal guard felt he owed him. But being close was one thing; it didn't need to be *this* close.

The Young Marquis's lips twitched, and he quickly shook his head. "I have strength, I do... I just don't need to go anymore."

Fortunately, the person on the bed didn't press further.

He slept restlessly that night, enduring until morning. Luo Qianyu got out of martial arts practice today and sent Wen Yu back to the study quarters to fetch his books for class.

He first bathed in a tub, changed clothes, and made sure not a trace of the knockout incense remained on him. Only then did he step into the pool to retrieve the folding fan.

The fan was made of special material; although not paper, after sinking in the pool overnight, the characters "May you top the exam list and achieve success" had faded considerably. If one didn't look closely, they were almost invisible.

The Young Marquis was startled, realizing this was a good thing.

He had already reclaimed the hair ribbon. The only clue Wen Yu had about the Mysterious Guest was now this folding fan.

Golden folding fans weren't common on the market, but the color wasn't unique either. If Wen Yu really had to rely solely on those eight characters on the fan to identify the person, then hadn't he just severed the most crucial clue?

The Young Marquis now had a cut on his face, and his palm was wrapped in white bandages, making him look like he'd been bullied. Returning to the classroom, his classmates were curious but didn't dare provoke him, tacitly avoiding the subject.

Only Guan Mingyang, that daredevil, sat down at his desk with a somewhat gloating expression. "Little Fox, you finally got beaten up."

Luo Qianyu didn't even look up, focusing on his calligraphy practice.

"Who had the guts to scratch the Young Marquis's face? I heard you went to Drunken Immortal Pavilion for your birthday last night. Could it be you tried to force yourself on a songstress and she fought back with her life?" Seeing no response, Guan Mingyang continued, amused. "...Tsk, don't bother practicing your calligraphy. It's just a waste of paper. What's the use of changing all those wolf-hair and purple-hair brushes? My little brother, whose baby teeth haven't even all fallen out, writes better than you..."

The Young Prince's voice trailed off. Seeing the Young Marquis about to leave, he reached out to stop him, only to see a flash of gold descend straight toward his forehead. "What is this... Ah!"

The Young Marquis snapped the fan shut, feeling much more satisfied now.

Guan Mingyang felt a sudden, heavy thud on the top of his head, momentarily thinking he'd been struck by a blunt weapon. He was horrified, suspecting the Young Marquis of secretly keeping concealed weapons in the Imperial Academy!

He immediately went to lodge a complaint, beating the drum in the middle of the night. The Director of Studies and the Lecturers hurried over to investigate, only to find the Young Prince's head perfectly fine, without a single mark.

When questioned, the Young Marquis's gaze was clear, his face full of feigned innocent bewilderment. With no concrete evidence, they had to reluctantly drop the matter.

However, ever since that one night spent in the Crown Prince's former residence, Luo Qianyu felt something was off when he returned to his own study quarters. The brocade mattress wasn't as smooth, the pillow wasn't as soft, and compared to the narrow bathtub, the warm and pleasant hot spring was much more comfortable for bathing.

The Young Marquis secretly lamented how difficult it was to go from luxury to frugality. Eventually, unable to resist, he found excuses to stay at the Crown Prince's place for several nights in a row.

And he made sure not to let Zhao Nian come along, only taking Wen Yu with him.

In the past, this would have been Zhao Nian's duty.

As the saying goes, "out with the old, in with the new," especially when the new one bore the shadow of the Crown Prince. Zhao Nian felt helpless and somewhat sour, not giving Wen Yu a friendly look for several days.

Until this day, just as Luo Qianyu was about to go find Su He after class, an imperial decree summoned him to the palace.

Upon hearing it was an audience with the Emperor, Luo Qianyu silently put on his knee pads. Not feeling secure, he added two more layers of fleece padding inside, making them softer than his own bedding. Only then did he straighten his robes and follow the eunuch into the palace with peace of mind.

Arriving outside Muhua Hall, Eunuch Wang lightly flicked his horsetail whisk, smiling. "Young Marquis, please wait here for a moment. His Majesty is currently bathing in the hot spring."

Luo Qianyu nodded in acknowledgment and had to sit and wait in Muhua Hall. Turning his head, he noticed a half-finished game of Go beside him.

It was less "half-finished" and more a dead game.

—The black and white stones were interlocked like dog's teeth. The black stones coiled like a python, forming a formation that tightly trapped the white stones in a corner at the lower right.

This setup resembled a trapped beast ensnared by a python. Every liberty of the white stones was firmly sealed by the black stones. In two more moves, just as the black python flicks its tongue, it could strangle them completely.

It truly was a dead end with no chance of survival.

The Young Marquis found it intriguing and couldn't look away for a long time.

Before transmigrating into the book, his father loved playing Go and often made him watch by the board. Through this constant exposure, he understood the rules but could only barely distinguish victory, defeat, and life-and-death situations—a passable level.

But this board before him was too interesting.

Luo Qianyu's fingertip hovered above the board. He frowned at the black stones for a while, then picked up a white stone with his fingers and placed it on the star point at the upper left corner of the board.

This move seemed completely unrelated to the dead situation. Next, a second white stone diagonally pierced the heart of the black formation. The originally airtight encirclement of the black python seemed to crack open.

Luo Qianyu seized the opportunity to place another stone in the center. The three seemingly scattered stones now echoed the remaining stones in the lower right corner, cutting off the black stones' retreat.

If the final stone sealed the last liberty, the trapped white stones would break free like a dragon emerging from a cocoon, instead trapping the black stones like a turtle in a jar.

The Young Marquis's fingertip hadn't even left the stone when a sound came from behind the screen.

His hand stiffened. He silently began restoring the board, stone by stone.

Before he could place the last stone, footsteps approached. The altered board wasn't yet completely erased. Luo Qianyu's heart jumped. He clenched the game-changing white stone in his hand, turned, and knelt down in a bow.

He didn't need to look up to know who had arrived, for he faintly caught the scent of ambergris on the person. His throat tightened as he lowered his head. "Your subject pays respects to Your Majesty."

Instead of the command to rise, the next sentence successfully made the Young Marquis's neck and back tremble.

"Play."

The Emperor's voice pressed down from above. The man seemed to be looking down at him. The person before him had just finished undressing, his loose black hair not yet dried.

The man wore a black dragon robe, the outer garment open, mingled with the steam. Water droplets from his hair tips fell, landing on the floor tiles before the Young Marquis.

They spread into faint, fragmented wet marks, the *pata* sound almost inaudible.

He heard the Emperor chuckle lightly, carrying a hint of laziness and an ambiguous meaning. "Playing obedient again?"

"Place the stone. I permit you to finish."

With things put this way, Luo Qianyu couldn't refuse. At least the incident interrupted in the Imperial Study last time wasn't brought up—he desperately wished the other would forget it. But the white stone was still clenched in his hand, damp with sweat, almost feeling hot.

It was best not to let the Emperor discover he had almost played to the final step behind his back... So, he pressed his lips together, pretending nothing was wrong as he sat down, picked up another stone, and placed it in the previous position.

The Emperor sat opposite him and picked up a black stone from the bowl.

Thus, the two began playing.

Although he had reversed the initial dead game's situation, when it came to the final move, the Young Marquis hesitated for a moment, deliberately leaving a flaw and losing the game.

Before the little eunuch could even clear the board, Luo Qianyu heard the emperor’s low, quiet voice, “If you deliberately lose this clumsily again, I’ll have your father come play instead.”

Luo Qianyu fell silent. “…”

Once the board was cleared, the emperor seemed as eager as ever: “Another round.”

They played several games in a row. At first, Luo Qianyu racked his brains trying to lose without being obvious, but the emperor’s black stones advanced relentlessly, move by move, which actually annoyed him. His competitive spirit was stirred, and he no longer cared about losing gracefully—he almost wished he could pin the emperor down on the board and grind him into dust.

So he lowered his gaze, deep in thought, his eyelashes casting delicate shadows like crow feathers. Everything about him went still.

He won one game midway, then lost three in a row. Clearly, the emperor’s skill was above his. Luo Qianyu was sulking inside and didn’t want to play anymore, but he couldn’t show it.

After all, this was the famously mad emperor from the book. If he interrupted him at the height of his enjoyment, who knew what fresh hell awaited him.

As the little eunuch bent over to tidy the board, the young man studied the black and white stones, paused for a moment, and suddenly said, “Your Majesty, we’ve already played four rounds. The sun is about to set. Such exertion isn’t good for Your Majesty’s health. How about switching to a faster game?”

The emperor lifted an eyelid: “What game?”

Luo Qianyu told him.

The other was taken aback, as if hearing it for the first time: “Five in a row?”

Luo Qianyu nodded, “Your Majesty, the rules are simple: five stones in a straight line and you win.”

Then, relying on the many idle hours spent playing grid games with classmates on paper during school days, and having developed quite a few secret moves, the Young Marquis took advantage of the emperor being a novice and won three games in a row, feeling quite pleased with himself.

After feeling pleased, he grew a little worried that this Dog Emperor might be a sore loser. But when he glanced up, he found no trace of anger on the other’s face—on the contrary, he looked rather intrigued.

After that, the emperor seemed to figure out the game, detecting every trap Luo Qianyu laid. Whenever Luo Qianyu set a snare, the emperor always found a way to counter it. Later, he even turned Luo Qianyu’s own tactics against him, setting traps step by step.

The Young Marquis cleanly lost two games in a row, thoroughly chastened, and again didn’t want to play anymore.

His gaze drifted toward the darkening sky outside the hall, and he took the opportunity to remind him, “Your Majesty, it’s getting late. The palace gates will soon be locked.”

If it were an ordinary minister, having the chance to play chess with the emperor would be a hard-won favor and opportunity. But the Young Marquis was different—all he wanted was to get the hell out.

“How long are you going to keep clutching that piece in your hand?” The emperor looked down at him, his voice deep and magnetic, the tail of his tone lifting with a hint of amusement. “What, planning to smuggle my chess piece back to your manor?”

The Young Marquis’s heart tightened. He instinctively looked up and met the emperor’s gaze, unexpectedly plunging into a pair of blood-red pupils.

At this hour, servants had begun lighting the lamps. Amid the flickering candlelight, the emperor’s eyes slanted slightly upward, his irises extremely pale, accentuating his deep features. If one could ignore the inexplicable oppressive aura emanating from the emperor, there was even a faint hint of exoticness about him.

Luo Qianyu was successfully flustered by the teasing, his ears silently turning red as he inwardly cursed the Dog Emperor: “…This subject wouldn’t dare.”

He had been clutching that chess piece for nearly two hours; his palm was red, and the spot pressed by the stone had turned pale. Luo Qianyu silently returned the white stone and rubbed his palm.

The emperor didn’t speak but suddenly asked, “How are your knees?”

Luo Qianyu was taken aback—was he referring to the time he injured his knees kneeling in the imperial study?

He carefully replied, “Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. This subject is much bett—”

“Let me see.”

Luo Qianyu silently changed his words: “…Not fully healed yet.”

The emperor: “…”

Just as the Young Marquis was wondering whether this topic would continue, he heard the emperor speak again, “What is this?”

The man’s gaze fell on his knees. Luo Qianyu followed his look and noticed a faint bulge at his knee… It was the knee pads!

Alarm bells rang in his head. He had padded too much this time; it wasn’t noticeable when standing or kneeling, but sitting down like this, even with his outer robe covering it, if you looked closely, you could just make it out.

The Young Marquis’s heart sank. His fingertips gripped the hem of his robe tightly; the soft padding at his knees felt hot even through the brocade robe. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he forced out a dry laugh, his voice raspy as if squeezed from his throat, “Your Majesty, it’s nothing.”

But his sovereign didn’t let him off. Not only did he recognize what it was, but he also removed them. “These are… knee pads?”

The Young Marquis lowered his head, no longer meeting the emperor’s gaze, and fell silent.

The emperor picked up his knee pads, looked them over, and pressed his thumb against them. The texture was excessively soft, even softer and thicker than ordinary knee pads, as if pressing against clouds.

Then, he turned the pads over. As soon as he flipped them, two pieces of fox-fur padding fell out onto the floor.

Luo Qianyu: “…”

The Young Marquis lowered his head even further, almost under the table.

The emperor remained silent for a good while before suddenly letting out a low chuckle: “You came prepared.”

“What, did I punish you too harshly last time? Are you afraid of being punished by me now?”

“…” The Young Marquis was speechless, shaking his head like a rattle drum. Being caught was one thing, but admitting it was another—he wasn’t falling for that trap.

If he had known this would happen, he would have checked what Su He wrote in the next chapter before meeting the emperor, so he could have been prepared… No, Su He’s story revolved around Wen Yu and wouldn’t detail the interactions between these other male leads. Reading ahead would have been useless anyway.

“Luo Qianyu, roll up your pant leg.”

This time, the tone was no longer playful or consultative—it sounded more like an imperial decree.

Luo Qianyu’s throat moved, and rather spinelessly, he complied. He lifted his outer robe, pinched the edge of his pant leg, and rolled it up to his knee. Afraid it might slip down, he had to hold the cuff himself.

The exposed calf was as white as snow, well-proportioned in bone and flesh. Further up, faint marks from the previous punishment kneeling still lingered on his knees, not completely faded.

“After all this time, there are still marks?”

Luo Qianyu wanted to cover them but stole a glance at the emperor’s expression and ultimately didn’t move, though he didn’t speak either.

The hand holding his pant cuff turned pale, but his knuckles flushed with a faint red.

“When you were young, you clamored about wanting to take up arms, guard the borders, and join the army.” The emperor’s gaze swept over the skin of his knees, his tone laced with teasing. “With someone like you, forget facing blades—if an arrow so much as grazed your skin, you’d be weeping and wailing.”

“…This subject would not weep and wail.” Luo Qianyu hated it most when people said this about him. If it were anyone else, he would have already lost his temper. But since it was the emperor, he could only suppress his frustration and retort stiffly, “This subject never cries. I haven’t shed a tear since I came of age.”

“Is that so?” The emperor sneered, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the dragon throne. “So it wasn’t the Luo heir who cried while clutching the Crown Prince’s hem after knocking out his front teeth, but some fearless impostor?”

Luo Qianyu was stunned, his Adam’s apple bobbing. There was such a thing?

That memory was indeed hazy. Not only did he not remember, but even the original host probably didn’t recall. Yet this moment of hesitation, in others’ eyes, seemed like a dazed, distracted reaction upon hearing the Former Crown Prince mentioned.

The sky grew darker.

Eunuch Wang stepped forward to remind His Majesty that it was time for the evening meal.

The emperor didn’t respond. Now he seemed to have lost interest, weariness seeping into his voice as he raised a hand and said, “I am tired. It’s getting late. You may leave.”

The Young Marquis felt as if a weight had been lifted. He rose, bowed, and followed the guiding little eunuch out.

Night shrouded the palace walls. Luo Qianyu looked at the lone carriage waiting outside the palace gates and suddenly remembered: Wen Yu not only hadn’t accompanied him into the palace today but was also absent from the Imperial Academy. He had given Wen Yu leave to return home and visit his mother.

Back at the Imperial Academy, Luo Qianyu hesitated for only three seconds before deciding to turn away from his own dormitory and crash at the Crown Prince’s place for the night.

He couldn’t help it—the Crown Prince’s bed was simply too comfortable, rivaling a modern luxury mattress, and there was even a hot spring-like bathing pool. As someone born and raised in the modern era, the Young Marquis couldn’t resist.

Since the Former Crown Prince had been so kind to the original host, there was no need to keep refusing outright. After all, transmigrating into a book was already miserable enough…

Zhao Nian didn’t know Wen Yu had left, so he didn’t follow to the Crown Prince’s quarters either. It was a rare night for the Young Marquis to be alone by himself. After a quick bath and changing into his inner garments, feeling fresh and clean, he turned in early.

Just as he was sinking into deep sleep, he suddenly heard a slight noise.

When the edge of the bed dipped under someone’s weight, the Young Marquis’s eyelashes fluttered. He abruptly drew the folding fan from under his pillow and thrust it at the intruder. Groggy and irritated, he gritted his teeth, “Liu Cixue, don’t you ever quit—”

Someone grabbed the fan, and a soft voice said, “A-Yu.”

Luo Qianyu froze, then his eyes snapped open to find that the visitor was actually Lou Xian.

His tense nerves instantly relaxed, and drowsiness washed over him again. The Young Marquis sighed in relief and let go of the fan. He muttered something under his breath, then turned over and lay back down, acting like he was going back to sleep.

Instead, Lou Xian sensed something was off. Frowning slightly, he leaned closer on one arm and asked insistently, “Who is Liu Cixue? Why were you calling his name even in your dreams?”

The Young Marquis shook his head, burying his face in the soft pillow, his voice still thick with sleep. “No one. I just had a nightmare.”

Lou Xian didn’t yet know that Liu Er from the Zhai Xian Pavilion was actually Liu Cixue.

Gently tucking the fan back under the youth’s pillow, Lou Xian sat on the edge of the bed. He glanced around, the only light coming from the moonlight filtering in, and murmured as if to himself, “Why did you come back here again?”

Again?

Luo Qianyu caught the key word. Still half-asleep, he thought, even Lou Xian knows about this place—it seems the original host really used to come here often.

But the other man didn’t seem inclined to dwell on the topic. After a pause, a long sigh broke the silence, and he suddenly said, “A-Yu, I’m joining the army.”

Hearing this, the Young Marquis sobered up a little. He turned over, his voice still laced with lingering sleepiness. “…Joining the army?”

He rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t looked closely before, but now he saw that Lou Xian was already fully dressed in armor. His breastplate reflected scattered moonlight, and his broad shoulders and narrow waist were outlined by the armor straps cinched at his waist.

Luo Qianyu realized this wasn’t about future plans—Lou Xian was likely setting off very soon. Propping himself up slightly, he asked, “You’re leaving? Where to?”

“We depart at 5:45 this morning, heading north to the front.” Lou Xian fell silent for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly before he said in a low voice, “The northern Hu cavalry is pressing on our borders. We’ll be stationed at Yanmen Pass. It’s a long journey, and the war could drag on—at least a year or two.”

He added softly, “Before leaving… I wanted to see you one more time.”

…

So sudden?

Luo Qianyu was now mostly awake. If Lou Xian left, what would happen to his stock? Was his character just getting written out?

In the original book, did Lou Xian go to the northern border at this time?

Could it be that because of the series of decisions he’d made after transmigrating, the plot had shifted somewhat?

Suddenly, Luo Qianyu understood. No wonder Lou Xian had been so scarce lately. Someone he used to see every day had become a rare sight, even missing his birthday. It was clear now that this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Luo Qianyu couldn’t help asking, “Are you going with your father?”

Lou Xian said “Yeah,” though his focus didn’t seem to be on that. His voice carried a hint of hesitation, as if he wanted to hear something but didn’t know what. He parted his lips and said, “A-Yu, before I go… is there anything you want to say to me?”

?

Asking what he wanted to say…

Safe travels? A victorious campaign? Rise through the ranks? Even though the stock market competition is fierce right now, withdrawing at this point doesn’t seem like a wise move, but… I’ll take good care of the protagonist shou for you?

Luo Qianyu thought for a moment, his expression turning a bit more serious. He whispered, “War is no joke. Watch your back.”

He added, “Write to me if anything happens.”

Lou Xian’s gaze paused, and he didn’t speak. He just watched him in the darkness, silent for what felt like a long while. Just as Luo Qianyu couldn’t hold on any longer and drowsiness began to blur his senses again, the man suddenly spoke:

“A-Yu, before I go… can I hug you?”

Luo Qianyu was taken aback.

Suddenly realizing he might have been lacking in warmth—his little follower was leaving, and he hadn’t even seen him off. At the very least, he should offer some gesture of goodwill. So he crawled out of the blankets and nodded.

The next moment, he was enveloped in an embrace.

The other man was cold all over, his nose lightly brushing against Luo Qianyu’s neck, but his exhaled breath was scalding hot, as if he were sniffing the scent of his skin before taking a deep breath. The Young Marquis couldn’t help squirming, trying to push him away, but Lou Xian didn’t budge—it was as if he were nuzzling him like a cat.

After a moment of silence, the man suddenly murmured in a low voice, “…I wish I could take you with me.”