Chapter 168 Day 32 of Transmigrating into an Imperial Examination Novel (Extra 1)

Chapter 168: The Thirty-Second Day of Transmigrating into the Imperial Examination Novel (Extra Story 1)

The wind at the border was utterly different from that of the capital.

The wind in the capital carried moisture and the scent of powder and perfume—soft, cloying. Here, the wind was rough, dry, laden with sand, gravel, and the smell of thorny grass from the distant Gobi. It scraped across the face with a near-brutal sting.

The sky always seemed exceptionally high and vast, a flawless blue. Clouds were stretched into thin wisps, hanging at the edge of the sky. The sun blazed, scorching the vast expanse of yellow earth until it was blazing hot.

An Yi had been with Qin Cang at this northern border army camp for some time now.

Qin Cang was now a fierce and valiant general in the army, no longer the Dingyuan General who had to tread carefully in the capital.

Here, he was like a fish in water. The untamed wildness that had been suppressed by the capital's rules unfurled once more.

They lived in the general's residence. An Yi had somehow transplanted a few hardy sea buckthorn plants to the corner of the wall, and they had stubbornly survived, adding a touch of green to the monotonous brownish-yellow.

During the day, Qin Cang would go to the drill grounds to train troops or lead patrols.

He wore heavy black iron armor, sweating profusely under the scorching sun.

Only when he returned to this small courtyard, doffed his armor, and changed into plain cloth clothes did he shed all his sharpness and coldness, becoming the same Qin Cang who fussed over An Yi, clinging to him with a clumsy neediness.

At night, the border wind blew even stronger, howling and whistling. Occasionally, faint sounds from the distant camp could be heard.

Inside the room, only a dim oil lamp was lit, its light flickering.

Qin Cang always lay on his side, facing An Yi.

One arm possessively encircled An Yi's waist. His other hand was always gripping a strand of An Yi's loose black hair spread across the pillow, his fingertips absently twisting it, as if only by confirming that this cool, smooth strand was truly wound around his fingers could he fall asleep peacefully.

Sometimes An Yi would wake in the middle of the night, feeling the slight tug from the ends of his hair and the steady breathing of the person beside him. In the darkness of this foreign land, he would quietly gaze at Qin Cang's blurred silhouette.

Thus, days passed like water, amidst the ruggedness and tranquility unique to the border.

----------

Winter at the border came early and fiercely.

No sooner had winter just begun than the first heavy snow fell without warning. Overnight, the whole world was left with nothing but an expanse of white.

The wind howled bitterly, driving snowflakes that thudded against the window paper. The cold invaded every crack and crevice, as if it could freeze one's very marrow.

Because of his ability, An Yi was somewhat fond of this weather.

But still... let winter pass quickly. He didn't fear the cold, but there was someone who found it hard to endure.

He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and sat by a charcoal brazier with a book of miscellaneous notes in his hands, reading attentively.

The charcoal crackled now and then, sending sparks flying and casting a warm glow on his profile.

The courtyard gate creaked open, and heavy footsteps trod through the snow, approaching from afar.

It was Qin Cang returning.

He brought in the wind and snow from outside. His black iron armor was coated with an unmelted frost; his brows and lashes were dotted with tiny ice crystals; his cheeks and nose were red from the cold.

As soon as he entered, he bolted the door behind him, sealing out the raging blizzard.

"Master, I'm back." His voice was hoarse from the cold wind.

An Yi looked up from his book. Seeing him covered in snow and cold, he put down the book and stood up to approach him.

He reached out, his fingertips touching Qin Cang's icy iron armor. Feeling the piercing chill, he frowned slightly. "Go change out of your wet clothes first."

Qin Cang smiled and agreed, then bent down to peck An Yi on the lips.

Just as he was about to change, he suddenly remembered something. He pulled an oil-paper packet from his chest and handed it to An Yi.

"On the way back, I passed the market and saw these for sale. I thought you might like them." He lowered his voice.

An Yi took it and opened the oilpaper packet. Inside were a few pieces of golden chestnut cake, still slightly warm.

It was a local specialty. An Yi had had it a few times and liked it.

"Hurry up." As An Yi took the pastry, his fingers accidentally brushed against Qin Cang's stiff, frozen hand, and his tone was urging.

Qin Cang grinned, then went into the next room to change out of his cold armor and damp outer robe.

When he came out again, he was just wearing a plain dark cloth robe with a thick padded coat over it. His hair had been roughly towel-dried, still slightly damp.

He walked over to the charcoal brazier and naturally sat down close to An Yi, his tall frame almost completely enveloping him.

First, he warmed his hands by the fire. Once his hands were warm, he naturally reached out and picked up a strand of An Yi's long hair that hung down his back, twisting it around his fingers.

An Yi reached out and dried his hair.

Then he picked up his book again, his eyes settling on the text, saying nothing.

The room was very quiet, except for the crackling of charcoal, the faint rustle of clothes, and their soft breathing.

After playing with his hair for a while, Qin Cang seemed to find it insufficient. He snuggled closer to An Yi until their arms pressed tightly together and he could feel the warmth of the other's body.

He lowered his head, his nose nearly burying itself into An Yi's hair at the nape of his neck, and took a deep breath. The clean scent made him let out a satisfied, almost silent sigh.

"Master..." he called softly, his voice lazy and hoarse. "The snow is so heavy outside. The guys on patrol are all freezing cold."

"Mm." An Yi responded, turning a page.

"Today at the drill ground, I saw some rookies who can barely hold their spears steady..."

"Mm."

Qin Cang didn't need An Yi to reply much. He just wanted to talk, to spill all the trivial, boring stuff he'd seen and heard outside that day to the person in front of him.

As he spoke, his voice gradually grew softer, turning into mumbles.

After days of patrolling and training, plus the snow and wind today, even a man of iron felt exhausted.

Unconsciously, his head rested on An Yi's thin shoulder. His breathing became long and even.

An Yi felt the weight on his shoulder and turned his head to see that Qin Cang had fallen asleep with his eyes closed.

His thick lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyes, and his brows carried a lingering fatigue, but the corners of his mouth were slightly lifted, looking peaceful.

An Yi put down his book, allowing Qin Cang to lean on him. Then he gave him a pat. "Go to bed. You'll catch cold like this."

The charcoal firelight flickered, casting their intertwined shadows onto the earthen wall, warm and serene.

Qin Cang hummed softly and stood up.

He looked at An Yi, smiled, then picked An Yi up and they lay down on the bed together. "Master, stay with me."

Outside the window, the wind and snow still howled, trying to intrude upon this little corner of the world.

But inside, An Yi murmured softly, "Alright, I'll stay with you."