Chapter 214: Aren’t You Cold?

Chapter 214: Aren't You Cold?

The four words "As if the Emperor himself were present" crashed down on him like icy water from the Ninth Heaven, pouring into the top of his head.

Cheng Ge's entire body shuddered violently, his pupils sharply contracting as he stared in disbelief at the unremarkable black wooden box.

A wave of shock like a tidal wave overwhelmed all his thoughts.

In his extreme astonishment, the hand reaching for the box trembled uncontrollably.

The ironwood box was cold and heavy in his hand, feeling less like wood and more like forged iron, pressing painfully into his palm and sinking deep into his heart.

He swallowed hard, instinctively wanting to say something—perhaps a refusal, perhaps a question.

"The Emperor's grace is as vast as heaven and earth, Censor Cheng... be cautious and take this seriously.

Remember His Majesty's command: do not use it unless at the brink of death. I take my leave now."

With that, the eunuch turned and led his attendants away quickly, his figure disappearing into the deepening dusk beyond the courtyard gate.

Leaving Cheng Ge alone, kneeling on the cold stone ground, holding the silk edict in his left hand and the black secret box tightly in his right.

The elation and fervor he had felt upon receiving the edict were now frozen entirely by this burden of trust too heavy to bear.

Replacing them was a bone-deep fear, and a resolute determination, as if pushed to the edge of a cliff with no way back.

The cold wind moaned through the withered branches of the courtyard.

He looked down at the two edicts in his hands—one bright, one dark—and felt the dusk press down heavily.

Even the air he inhaled carried a biting, metallic chill.

He had only wanted to leave the capital; he hadn't thought much beyond that.

His earlier impassioned speeches had been fabricated to lull the emperor.

But now, clutching the imperial decree, every word carried weight.

And Yuanzhou was no mere inspection site; it was a true dragon's pool and tiger's den—a battlefield of life and death.

He slowly closed his fingers, gripping the ice-cold box tightly in his palm, his knuckles whitening from the extreme pressure.

Meanwhile, the entire prince's mansion was bustling with activity over Cheng Ge's imminent departure for Yuanzhou.

Lü Rou naturally had to accompany him, and Funiang, though somewhat advanced in age, had no ties left in the capital after her son's early death. Worried about Cheng Ge, she insisted on going as well.

The two women's faces were etched with worry, and they didn't stop for a moment.

Lü Rou was practically glued to the wardrobe, stuffing every warm garment she could bring into the luggage.

She had discovered that her master, this young man, was easygoing in everything else—

But his fear of cold was absolutely extreme.

Since winter began, except for court sessions where he had to maintain some dignity as a capital official, he would huddle up in the mansion, curling in on himself. His head nearly tucked into his chest.

He shuffled around all hunched over, like a clumsy quail.

What's more, two days ago, before morning court, Cheng Ge had secretly worn three pairs of thick cotton socks on his feet.

When caught, he stubbornly insisted it was because the shoe soles were too hard.

Yet despite all that armor, he still came back from court with a red nose, a runny nose that wouldn't stop, and sneeze after sneeze—ending up with a cold.

Thus, packing for Cheng Ge became Lü Rou's number one priority.

It was no longer called luggage; it was practically a mobile fortress of warmth.

Thick padded robes, wool-lined jackets, a fox-fur collar that could cover half his face, heavy knee pads,

and a whole stack of newly sewn cotton socks, even padded and thickened undergarments...

She almost rolled up a blanket to stuff in there too—truly driving herself crazy with worry.

In the kitchen, it was constantly bustling with steam and smoke. Funiang was busy turning various foods into long-lasting dry provisions.

She was certain the journey would be arduous and the meals at posting stations would be rough; she couldn't let Cheng Ge's finicky stomach suffer.

So she made dried meat, smoked fish, hard flatbread, pickled vegetables, candied fruits... jars and bottles covered half the stovetop.

The amount looked less like official travel and more like a family fleeing famine or embarking on a long wilderness survival.

Of course, the NPC duo Ling Feng and Zhuyue were also to accompany him.

After all, Yuanzhou was no pleasant place; Cheng Ge was their new master.

Protecting Cheng Ge's life was their main mission—if anything happened to him, even if he lost a single leg hair, Cui Ji would break their legs.

The old steward went even further; he had almost turned the entire storeroom upside down.

Not only did he pack ginseng, lingzhi, and other nourishing herbs neatly,

But he also secretly produced a few small porcelain bottles, and when no one was looking, quickly stuffed them into a hidden compartment in Cheng Ge's luggage.

In a low voice, he warned that they were "good stuff" that could kill with a single cut—keep them for self-defense.

Cheng Ge held the cold poison bottle, momentarily speechless.

He deeply doubted whether this trip was for inspection or for carrying out some assassination mission.

Cheng Ge, bundled up like a winter cotton bear, clutched a hand warmer and lazily nibbled on a freshly baked almond pastry from Funiang, watching the busy figures in the courtyard. His heart felt warm yet tinged with a touch of melancholy.

Suddenly, a strikingly beautiful, smiling face popped out from beside him without warning.

Slender phoenix eyes curved with his usual flirtatious mischief—who else but Yun Xunyu?

"Darling..." Yun Xunyu's tone was light and airy; it seemed he had completely recovered from the beating last time, back to his ostentatious ways.

Startled by the sudden appearance, Cheng Ge was too lazy to move because of the cold. He slowly raised his eyelids and glanced at him.

Cheng Ge looked him up and down several times, was silent for a long time, and then couldn't help but blurt out.

"You... aren't you afraid of the cold?" His voice was genuinely puzzled.

Then, Yun Xunyu was seen wearing only two thin red garments, his collar slightly open.

Revealing a small portion of his finely defined collarbone, which seemed out of place in this freezing weather where breath turns to ice.

In contrast to his own bulky, layered look, wrapped in layer upon layer, so that only his eyes were visible, it was like fire and ice in complete contrast.

Upon hearing this, Yun Xunyu laughed softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes, like a snow fox spirit.

He deliberately leaned closer, his breath almost brushing against Cheng Ge's frost-reddened ear.

"Cold? Of course I'm afraid. But..." he drew out his tone, "but when I see you, dear, I don't feel cold anymore."

Cheng Ge: "......"