Chapter 449 Stirring Trouble

Chapter 449: Fanning the Flames

Wuliji's hand froze mid-air, his eyes locked on Zhou Zhan, something brewing in his eyes.

He said nothing, but his clenched fist was already coiled with power—the silence before a storm.

Cheng Ge's scalp prickled. He quickly let go of Zhou Zhan and raised his hand to block between the two.

He shouted at Wuliji, "Don't you come over here and get involved! I'll explain to you later!"

Wuliji's gaze shifted to his face, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn't speak, but his fist remained clenched.

"Tsk tsk tsk~" A voice drifted over from the side, light and breezy, dripping with barely concealed glee.

Zhou Hao lay on the ground, struggling to lift his head, watching the scene with a grin he couldn't wipe off his face.

The smile was stained with blood, looking extra punchable in the dim light.

"Brother, look, look—" He dragged out his words, his voice lilting like a storyteller hitting the best part of the tale.

"Brother, you're a real sorry excuse for a Crown Prince. Your sweetheart's in someone else's arms, and you can't even lay a finger on him. If this gets out—"

"Enough!" Zhou Zhan bellowed, his hand slamming down on the hilt of his blade.

"Clang—!" The long saber slid from its sheath, cold light flashing.

The blade gleamed in the dim light, casting Zhou Zhan's livid face in stark relief.

He raised the saber, pointing it straight at Wuliji. "I don't give a damn who you are—"

He spoke slowly, each word grinding through clenched teeth, "Get out of here now, or don't blame me for what happens next!"

Wuliji didn't budge an inch. He just stared at the blade aimed at him, watching the cold glint dance along its edge.

Then he lifted his gaze to meet Zhou Zhan's. He took a step forward, the blade now just three inches from his chest.

Cheng Ge: "!!!"

Cheng Ge flailed in a panic, "Your Highness! Your Highness, don't do anything rash! Let's just talk this out!"

He yelled at Zhou Zhan, then spun around and shoved Wuliji, "Get out of here first! I'll catch up with you later!"

But neither of them moved a muscle. Zhou Zhan held his saber aloft, the tip still pressed against Wuliji's chest.

Wuliji stood there, looking down at the blade, his fists cracking as he squeezed them.

Cheng Ge, stuck in the middle, felt like he was suffocating, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

"Brother—see how this guy doesn't give a damn about you. This is still the Great Zhou imperial palace, and you're still the Crown Prince, yet he dares to pull this crap..."

Zhou Zhan's chest heaved violently, his gaze like he wanted to carve the man into a thousand pieces.

Zhou Hao was practically salivating for the two to fight, hoping Wuliji would beat Zhou Zhan to a pulp.

"Brother, with the two of them all over each other like that, they've probably already slept together, haven't they?"

Zhou Zhan's hand gripping the saber tightened suddenly. He stared hard at Wuliji, fire practically shooting from his eyes, his glare wanting to tear the man apart piece by piece.

Wuliji kept his face blank, but he reached out and grabbed Cheng Ge's wrist.

"Come on." he said quietly. "Let's go."

Cheng Ge: "???!"

Zhou Zhan couldn't take it anymore. He lunged with his sword, shouting, "You're begging for death—!"

Wuliji sidestepped in a flash, the blade grazing his robes.

He seized the moment to smash a fist into Zhou Zhan's wrist. Zhou Zhan winced, nearly dropping his sword, stumbling back two steps.

But he quickly regained his footing and lunged again. The two were instantly locked in combat.

Zhou Zhan fought like a madman, aiming straight for the vitals, but Wuliji's strength was just too much.

One punch sent Zhou Zhan's sword flying off course; one charge sent Zhou Zhan stumbling back.

"You... can't beat me." Wuliji's voice was low, as if stating a simple fact.

Zhou Zhan's face turned beet red. He charged again, "Shut your mouth—!"

Cheng Ge stood off to the side, stepping in to block, "Your Highness... Your Highness, don't do anything stupid!"

Zhou Hao lay on the ground, his face flushed with excitement, ready to stir the pot again, "Brother! See how cocky he is—"

Cheng Ge's head was pounding. He desperately tried to break them apart, only to get knocked aside by Zhou Zhan's arm.

He stumbled back two steps, lost his footing, and hit the ground hard.

Instantly, a wave of anger shot straight to his head. He'd never been so done with everything in his life.

To his left, Zhou Zhan was fighting with bloodshot eyes; to his right, Wuliji wasn't giving an inch; and at his feet lay that piece of trash Zhou Hao, stirring the pot.

He couldn't talk sense into them, couldn't block them, couldn't get away. So he yanked off his shoe—

"Damn you—!" The shoe flew out of his hand, carrying all his rage, and smacked Zhou Hao dead center on the forehead.

"Smack!" A crisp sound.

"Brother... look at him... ugh..."

Zhou Hao's mouth was still open, his instigating words cut off abruptly.

His eyes rolled back, his head lolled to the side—he passed out.

The corner fell silent for a moment, but Zhou Zhan and Wuliji showed no sign of stopping.

Cheng Ge sat on the ground, watching the two figures tumbling in combat, then looked down at his own bare left foot.

He took a deep breath, then another.

Then he pulled off his other shoe, stood up, and walked toward the two men.

"Move!" He slapped the sole of his shoe onto Zhou Zhan's backside.

"Smack!" Zhou Zhan's whole body stiffened.

Before he could react, Cheng Ge had already circled behind Wuliji and brought the shoe down again.

"Smack!" Wuliji froze too.

They both stopped at the same time and turned to look at Cheng Ge.

Cheng Ge stood there barefoot, a shoe raised in each hand, shaking with rage.

"Damn it—!" His voice cracked. "Just die, all of you—!!"

He slammed both shoes to the ground. "Just die, all of you—!!!"

Zhou Zhan opened his mouth as if to speak, then swallowed the words.

Wuliji stared at him, his clenched fists slowly loosening.

The two of them stood there, neither one moving.

Cheng Ge gasped for air, his chest heaving. He glared at them, eyes bloodshot.

"Fight?" he said, each word deliberate. "Why'd you stop? Keep going!"

No one spoke. The corner was so quiet, all that could be heard was Cheng Ge's ragged breathing.

Cheng Ge shot them a look, then strode out barefoot, trying to pull his shoes on as he walked.

The shoes were a bit tight—he tried twice but couldn't get them on, so he just kept going, one foot bare, limping along.

Still cursing under his breath: "You're all insane... I can't deal with this anymore... die if you want... live if you want..."

Just as he reached the corner—his waist was suddenly seized.

A powerful force yanked him up, his feet leaving the ground.

Cheng Ge: "!!!"

His scalp prickled, and he instinctively swung his hand at the person behind him—

The fist flew mid-air, only to be caught in a firm grip, and warm lips pressed against his cheek.

A loud, wet "smack"—Cheng Ge froze completely.

A voice reached his ear, laced with laughter, breathlessness, and barely concealed longing.

"My dear..."

That voice—Cheng Ge's pupils constricted sharply. He slowly turned his head.

Firelight flickered from the distance, illuminating the man's face.

Yun Xunyu smiled, warmth in his eyes, travel-worn, a streak of blood still smeared at the corner of his mouth.

Cheng Ge opened his mouth, his throat feeling stuffed with cotton. It took a few breaths before he managed to choke out a sentence.

"...How the hell did you get here?"

The man pulled him closer, nuzzling his forehead against Cheng Ge's.

"Ran into some trouble on the road, had to kill a few people." His voice dropped, tinged with a smile. "Did my dear miss me?"

Compared to those two idiots just now, Cheng Ge found himself thinking that Yun Xunyu, aside from being a bit too smooth, was practically obedient.

His expression improved slightly, and he cracked a grin. "Hah... nope."

Yun Xunyu smiled, leaning down to nuzzle his forehead again, that smile carrying a hint of indulgence and contentment.

"That's fine." His voice was low, with a smile. "As long as I always have my dear in my heart."

Cheng Ge: "..."

He was caught off guard by that cheesy line, and his skin crawled.

Afraid the man might say something even cheesier, he quickly changed the subject.

"How did you get in?" he said, his face stern. "The palace isn't safe—you need to get out of here."

Yun Xunyu smiled. The days of travel had thinned him out, his jawline sharper than before, but he still exuded charm.

He leaned down, bringing his lips close to Cheng Ge's ear. "Naturally, wherever my dear is, there I'll be."

His voice was low, his breath warm. "I can't bear a moment apart."

With that, he nuzzled against Cheng Ge's ear, intimate and affectionate.

Cheng Ge extended his index finger, pressed it against the man's forehead, and pushed him back.

He couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"So if I die, you'll come along?" His tone was cold. "And we'll mix our ashes together?"

Yun Xunyu leaned back slightly from the push, then reached up to catch that finger and pressed a gentle kiss to its tip.

"That's not out of the question."

His voice carried a smile, yet somehow it felt completely sincere.

"There's a place in Nanling where, after death, bodies are cremated and ashes are scattered to the wind."

He paused, looking into Cheng Ge's eyes. "If I could drift in the wind with my dear—"

His lips curved upward, a hint of tenderness in his eyes.

"Then I'd have been a romantic ghost, indeed."

Cheng Ge: "..."

He opened his mouth, wanting to call him "crazy," but the words died in his throat.

Because he realized—no matter what serious topic he brought up, once it passed through Yun Xunyu's lips, it became completely unserious.

He looked at those smiling eyes, at that thin yet still charming face, and suddenly didn't know what to say.

He just looked away and managed a dry retort.

"...You're still the smoothest talker."

Yun Xunyu laughed, pulling him closer. "My dear."

His voice was low, with a smile. "I've found someone outside the palace to pick us up."

Cheng Ge was taken aback. "What?"

Yun Xunyu looked down at him, his eyes full of tenderness, brushing Cheng Ge's hair back.

"I've come to take Qingqing with me. I heard the divine physician Bai Yuxing was spotted in Huaizhou recently—we might as well go find him."

Cheng Ge's expression shifted slightly, but he still shook his head. "I still have things I need to finish here."

His tone rarely turned this serious, carrying an uncommon gravity.

"You go on ahead. If I get the chance... I'll come find you."

Yun Xunyu looked at him, the smile in his eyes slowly dimming, leaving behind only a quiet, steady look.

He simply stared at Cheng Ge, unblinking.

A long time passed—so long that Cheng Ge started to feel uneasy under that gaze.

Just as he was about to speak up to break the silence—

"Then let me stay here with Qingqing, okay?" Yun Xunyu finally spoke, his voice very soft.

Cheng Ge froze, looking at Yun Xunyu's face. He saw what was written plainly in those eyes, and his throat suddenly tightened.

He quickly dropped his gaze, avoiding the other man's eyes, and shook his head. "The palace has too many eyes and ears."

He lowered his voice, speaking each word slowly. "You're, after all... someone with a special identity. If anyone found out, it wouldn't end well."

Yun Xunyu said nothing, just watching Cheng Ge, his gaze resting quietly on his face.

Cheng Ge's heart softened under that gaze, and he rarely spoke so gently, trying to reassure him.

"Get out of the palace first, go find Yuli." He paused, then raised his eyes to Yun Xunyu.

"Once I've wrapped things up in the palace, I'll come find you two as soon as I can."

He emphasized "as soon as I can" heavily, like he was making a vow.

Yun Xunyu's gaze lingered on his brow, on those serious eyes.

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his robes and produced a small porcelain bottle.

The bottle was small, its celadon-white glaze glowing softly in the dim light.

It still held a trace of body heat—he'd kept it warm against his skin.

"This is the medicine I saved for you." His voice was low, giving nothing away.

"Once you've used up this batch, you shouldn't have an attack for a while."

Cheng Ge looked down at the bottle, then reached out and took it gently.

His hand accidentally brushed Yun Xunyu's fingertips, and he felt how icy cold they were.

Cheng Ge's hand froze mid-air, his fingers curling slightly.

Almost without thinking, he squeezed that hand—and surprised even himself.

Realizing what he'd done, Cheng Ge immediately looked away, refusing to meet Yun Xunyu's eyes.

His tone was stiff, with an awkward, gruff edge. "You... dress warmer. Don't catch a cold."

Yun Xunyu looked down at the hand that was holding his. He looked up at Cheng Ge's turned-away face, at the tips of his ears that were turning faintly red.

A smile slowly curved at the corners of his mouth. He leaned in closer. "The Book of Songs says: 'A fair and gentle lady, a gentleman's ideal match.'"

He spoke word by word, his voice laced with amusement. "It should be the same for men."

Cheng Ge was taken aback, and before he could react, the other spoke again:

"If every time I appeared before my husband, I looked this good—"

That address of "husband" curled and twisted, the final syllable rising playfully, as if it had rolled around on the tip of his tongue before being released.

"Perhaps I could capture my husband's heart, and he'd have no attention left for anyone else."

Cheng Ge: "............"

He was completely undone. That surge of tenderness and sympathy he'd just felt was shattered into pieces by that single "husband."

"Just go now!" He put on a stern face, his tone rigid. "Don't let anyone find you!"

"We're wrapping up soon—cast your votes, let me see which gong is the most popular."