Chapter 47

Gu Ci returned with a body full of injuries. His lips were cracked, and a large bruise had formed on his cheekbone. If he went back home, his mother would surely worry.

The Northern City Troop Command had a duty room where he occasionally spent the night while on duty.

Returning alone to the room, Gu Ci threw himself onto the bed, face down, burying himself into the mattress.

When he fought with Pei Jian, his chest was filled with a singular emotion—rage. He had one goal in mind: to beat up that despicable man who coveted Nianxi. He didn’t deserve to be his friend.

Now lying alone in the modest room, beyond anger, Gu Ci felt a deeper sadness and frustration. In just over two months, he would come of age. Pei Jian, being the same age as him, even had a birthday close to his. They had once been the best of friends.

From childhood to adulthood, Gu Ci had always felt a natural superiority over Pei Jian. This was because he had caring family members. His mother and sisters were always there for him, and although his father and brothers were often away from the capital, they kept in frequent contact, sending him good things whenever they found them. Every winter, the fur coat and cloak he wore for warmth were hunted personally by his father and brothers.

On his birthday, he would receive a room full of gifts. But Pei Jian had none of that.

Pei Jian’s parents passed away early, his grandparents didn’t favor him, and the second branch of the family did everything they could to suppress him. Even his maternal relatives were unreliable. He was almost entirely unloved. Their situations naturally made for a stark contrast.

So, he was always generous to Pei Jian. No matter what it was, as long as Pei Jian showed even the slightest interest, he would unhesitatingly give it to him. Everyone praised his kindness and affection.

But only Gu Ci knew—it wasn’t just because they were good friends. There was something hidden, something he could hardly confide to anyone, something he refused to even admit to himself: a sense of inferiority.

Pei Jian was an exceptional and dazzling person. He excelled academically and never slacked in martial arts, practicing diligently every day. Gu Ci couldn’t match Pei Jian’s scholarly achievements and could barely hold his own in martial arts. Later, Pei Jian chose to focus on academics, while Gu Ci immersed himself in martial training, and only then did they shine in their own respective fields.

If Pei Jian’s parents had been alive, if his childhood hadn’t been so miserable, Pei Jian wouldn’t have developed such a proud and solitary character. He would have been an overwhelming presence among the young men of the capital.

Gu Ci had to admit that while showing kindness and generosity, he also displayed a sense of superiority.

Perhaps Pei Jian knew, or maybe he didn’t. After he turned ten, Pei Jian never accepted anything from Gu Ci, not even the well-meaning gifts from Gu Ci’s mother.

Pei Jian had always been a proud person. Instead, it was Gu Ci who relied more on Pei Jian. And those little thoughts he had as a child gradually transformed into true friendships as they grew older.

Gu Ci couldn’t understand, with so many women in the world, why Pei Jian had to fall in love with his Nianxi. In this world, he could give up anything to him except for Nianxi.

At the thought of Nianxi, Gu Ci’s cold heart was slowly warmed and comforted.

Nianxi loved him, and only him. That was enough.

He sat up, found the medicine box, and applied ointment to his wounds. Tomorrow, he had a date with Nianxi, and he couldn’t meet her with a face full of injuries. He didn’t want her to know anything about tonight.

From now on, he would always protect Nianxi and never let Pei Jian bother her again.

After finishing with the medicine, Gu Ci lit the candlestick and took out the broken Mohe doll. He had promised Nianxi that he would fix it.

Gu Ci carefully examined the broken parts. Repairing it was actually quite difficult. The fracture was full of cracks, the paint was faded, and many pieces of the clay sculpture had fallen off. He pieced it together bit by bit, working late into the night.

This was better—focusing entirely on repairing “Gu Sixth Brother” calmed his mind and made him feel less sad.

…

Pei Jian returned to the home he shared with Nianxi, his expression frighteningly cold. But even more terrifying than his expression were the injuries on his face.

The steward brought him medicine, and Pei Jian took it grimly.

The steward hesitated and asked, “My lord, for the injuries on your face… should I call a maid to help you apply the medicine?”

Pei Jian turned away without looking back and said, “No need.”

Nianxi had once said, “Your body is mine. I won’t allow any other woman to touch you.”

At that time, their love was intense. After their passionate encounter, Nianxi obediently nestled in his arms, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest and abdomen. He was stirred to heavy breathing and caught her mischievous hand. Nianxi turned over, her body hovering above him, her almond-shaped eyes seductive. She tapped his chest and said, “Only I can see and touch your body.”

In the dim light of the tent, she couldn’t contain her shyness, her face flushed and looking exceptionally beautiful. Pei Jian teasingly provoked her, “Not even the maid?”

Nianxi was a bit anxious, not caring about her loosely falling clothes that revealed large areas of smooth, milky-white skin. “Of course not. A couple should be united as one. I am yours alone, and you should be mine alone!” At that time, they were newlyweds, and Pei Jian understood the implication of her words; she did not like him taking a concubine.

Pei Jian found it amusing. Having three wives and four concubines was quite common for men. When they grew older and their passionate love settled into tranquility, by then, they would have many children and enjoy their company. Perhaps she would even take the initiative to give him a couple of concubines to take care of his daily needs.

After he said this, Nianxi was extremely annoyed and replied, “I would never do that. I only love you.”

Pei Jian finally heard those sweet words, and with great satisfaction, he flipped over and pinned her beneath him. After a passionate entanglement, her eyes became dazed, and in her tender, gasping breaths, she forgot her earlier anger. But Pei Jian always remembered. Later, when he held a high position and had women throwing themselves at him, he always remembered that moment, the hopeful gaze and deep affection in Nianxi’s eyes.

Even then, they drifted further apart.

He wouldn’t let her be sad. Compared to romantic affairs, men can find satisfaction in many other things. He restrained himself.

Pei Jian wiped the wound at the corner of his eye in the bronze mirror, sneering, the movement pulling at his lips, the pain spreading to his heart.

There is no genuine empathy in this world unless you are experiencing it yourself.

He still kept his promise, but the woman who once claimed to love him had already forgotten her vows and had another man first.

After applying the medicine, he lay alone in bed, eyes closed, unable to fall asleep for a long time. In a daze, he had a very chaotic dream; in a familiar yet strange inner chamber, a woman lay on the bed.

The woman was all alone, curled up.

He slowly approached…

Pain twisted her face, pale and helpless, her apricot eyes filled with despair, black blood oozing from the corner of her lips.

He suddenly woke up from the dream, still with his eyes closed, but his heart thumped like a war drum, beating rapidly.