Chapter 25

One night has passed.

The faint morning light

whispers.

Ye Baixiao sits expressionless on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark as he gazes at the dragon bed. The young emperor, with not a patch of good skin on his body, is covered in bruises and finger marks.

He must have been exhausted; curled up in a ball, he was in a daze, traces of tears still wet on his cheeks.

Last night, to suppress the shameful sounds, he had bitten his lower lip until it bled. But the more he stayed silent, the more he couldn’t help but be tossed about.

The beautiful bell chiffon robe hangs half-covered at his side, revealing his chest, abdomen, and waist, all marked with his fingerprints.

Seeing him shiver slightly as if cold, Ye Baixiao pauses, then drapes a thin blanket over him. His eyes darken; despite being tormented by drugs all night, the young emperor hasn’t made a sound apart from the unconscious noises of agony.

Ye Baixiao ponders, his fingers unconsciously reaching out to touch the delicate furrowed brow.

He’s so stubborn, enduring the torment of such drugs without uttering a word of surrender.

At that moment, a guard enters, speaking through a veil of gauze, “General, it’s almost time for the morning court. What should we do?”

Ye Baixiao’s finger, halfway extended, pauses. He withdraws it, slowly rising to his feet. “The army is about to enter the city. Just follow the plan and announce that the emperor is indisposed, and appoint me as regent to handle affairs. Surely, even those with objections won’t dare to speak out.”

As he steps out, the guard can’t help but glance behind him.

Ye Baixiao’s expression turns cold. “What are you looking at?”

The oppressive gaze he casts back sends a chill down the guard’s spine. Meeting Ye Baixiao’s deep, intimidating eyes, he shrinks back, hastily kneeling to apologize.

“Without my permission, no one is allowed in.” Ye Baixiao’s voice is cold. He pauses, then adds, “And no one is allowed to leave either.”

With that said, he leads the two of them toward the morning court.

—

In the court, a eunuch reads out the decree according to Ye Baixiao’s instructions. As expected, most people dare not speak out, considering Ye Baixiao’s longstanding prestige and military power, while Emperor Xie Fuyi is just a new and absurd emperor who ascended the throne a few months ago.

However, a few loyal and resolute old ministers still step forward, expressing their desire to visit the emperor to see if he is truly indisposed.

Ye Baixiao faintly smiles, blocking them. “His Majesty needs to recuperate and should not be disturbed. Rest assured, the imperial physician is treating him. As soon as His Majesty’s condition improves, he will naturally summon you all.”

His assurance, it implies that Emperor Xie Fuyi is not in mortal danger. The few people temporarily endure and withdraw.

After the morning court disperses, Ye Baixiao returns, his eyes dark. Even though he’s currently suppressing dissenting voices, it’s only a temporary measure. He still needs the young emperor to publicly decree, legitimizing his role as regent.

Ye Baixiao originally heads straight for the new emperor’s sleeping quarters, but midway, a guard rushes to report.

“My lord! General Zhao has been found! He’s in prison, injured but not fatally. He’s been brought out and is being settled in a palace.”

“Really?” Ye Baixiao’s expression brightens. After all, Zhao Shiyi is a brother who has been through thick and thin with him. “Take me to see him and have the best doctors treat him!”

Zhao Shiyi is still unconscious, covered in whip marks, his flesh torn apart. There’s a sword wound piercing through the palm of his left hand, already festering due to lack of timely treatment.

But for those seasoned warriors, these are just superficial wounds. With proper rest, they’ll soon be back on their feet.

Perhaps the initial news from Xie Fuyi was too horrifying, but now that he’s still alive and well, Ye Baixiao unexpectedly breathes a sigh of relief…

Then, feeling somewhat puzzled, he can’t help but speculate that the malicious words uttered by the young emperor last night were merely to vent his anger, which in turn provoked Ye Baixiao. And indeed, fueled by anger, he had acted without restraint, leaving the other party still in a daze the next morning.

Ye Baixiao doesn’t know why, but he feels a twinge of guilt and pity deep down, eager to see Xie Fuyi.

He instructs all the imperial physicians to take good care of Zhao Shiyi, then hurries back to the sleeping quarters.

Glancing at the cold breakfast already laid out on the outer table, he asks the person beside him, “Hasn’t he eaten?”

“No, my lord. He hasn’t risen yet,” the guard respectfully replies.

Ye Baixiao pauses, then waves his hand for the guard to leave before heading straight into the inner chamber.

He calls out, “Your Majesty?”

The person on the bed remains unmoving, tightly wrapped in blankets, with only half of their head visible, and a few strands of messy black hair sticking up.

Ye Baixiao notices the torn bell chiffon robe thrown at the foot of the bed and recalls that he had torn apart the young emperor’s dragon robe last night. Naturally, the young emperor wouldn’t wear this garment, which carried a sense of humiliation.

Without any clothes to cover himself, he couldn’t go out to eat.

Upon learning that Zhao Shiyi was still alive and recalling how handsome he had looked yesterday with his fair skin glistening with sweat, Ye Baixiao’s heart inexplicably softens. He approaches softly and says, “Your Majesty, I’ve ordered new clothes for you. It’s time to get up and have your meal.”

The person on the bed still doesn’t move, with most of their head covered by the blanket, leaving only the top of their head visible.

Ye Baixiao sits on the edge of the bed, trying to lighten the mood. “Aren’t you afraid of feeling suffocated lying like this?”

As he speaks, he reaches out to pull back the blanket covering Xie Fuyi. As the blanket is lifted, a warm mist escapes, revealing Xie Fuyi’s delicate face, flushed with fever.

Xie Fuyi’s expression clears reluctantly for a moment. He was somewhat speechless at the fact that he was still alive when he woke up this morning.

Waving away Ye Baixiao’s hand on his forehead, he turns over and wraps himself up again, muttering in a muffled voice, “Leave me alone!”

Does he still have the strength to curse and order people around?

The coldness in Ye Baixiao’s brows softens momentarily when he meets Xie Fuyi’s eyes. Xie Fuyi’s eyes, half-lidded and weak, still glare at Ye Baixiao, a mix of mist and resentment evident in them.

The Emperor, when clear-minded, would never act like this. Ye Baixiao’s deep black eyes soften as he reaches out to touch Xie Fuyi’s cheek, confirming that it’s burning hot.

“You have a fever?” Ye Baixiao frowns.

He had been exerting himself for quite some time last night, and with the chilly night in the palace and the sweat, he might have caught a cold.

He quickly covers Xie Fuyi back up with the blanket, stands up, and says, “I’ll call for the imperial physician immediately!”

Although it’s not appropriate to let outsiders know about Xie Fuyi’s condition at the moment, the situation is urgent. Besides, it’s just a physician; he wouldn’t dare to spread the news.

But how could he let the physician see the Emperor in such a state, covered in bruises? And… just let him die from the fever!

“N-No, don’t call for the physician!” Xie Fuyi, who was originally weak and limp, immediately seems stimulated when he hears this, reflexively clutching Ye Baixiao’s sleeve.

Despite being heavily drugged and feverish, he still holds onto Ye Baixiao’s arm tightly, repeating, “Don’t call for the physician!”

Ye Baixiao pauses, feeling Xie Fuyi’s trembling, realizing that he’s afraid.

“Don’t let anyone see me like this…” Xie Fuyi’s shoulders tremble violently, his cheeks flushed, but he still tightly holds onto Ye Baixiao’s arm, looking up at him with a hint of stubbornness and helplessness in his eyes. It’s a rare sight of vulnerability from someone who’s usually so disdainful and aloof.

Ye Baixiao is momentarily stunned before realizing it. Perhaps, the Emperor’s pride won’t allow him to show weakness, nor does he allow others to see his vulnerable side.

Ye Baixiao’s heart inexplicably softens, and he sits back down, gently tucking Xie Fuyi back under the blanket. “Alright, no physician. Let’s cover you up properly first.”

His skin, slightly damp with sweat, feels like the finest warm jade, smooth and lustrous, as white as condensed fat.

He had to use all his self-control to look away, sighing, “Then I’ll help you.”

Ye Baixiao stood up, fetched a jug of strong liquor and a handkerchief, and slowly wiped Xie Fuyi’s feverish body. The cool liquid brought a comfortable chill as it touched his hot, flushed skin.

The soothing sensation made Xie Fuyi unconsciously lie down obediently, allowing the other to do as he pleased.

It was truly testing. He was completely naked, his dragon robe torn apart long ago, and the humiliating chiffon robe discarded beneath the bed.

Ye Baixiao’s throat tightened, and his dark eyes were frighteningly deep.

Ye Baixiao didn’t understand what he was restraining himself from, perhaps it was Xie Fuyi’s current submissive demeanor that softened his heart.

The young emperor was usually arrogant, disdainful, and mocking. But seeing him obedient like this made one want to give him everything, unwilling to let even a hint of sadness show in his eyes.

Even though his body was uncomfortable and aching, he still couldn’t bear to hurt him.

Ye Baixiao wiped him repeatedly until the heat from his body subsided, then he gently carried Xie Fuyi and laid him on a clean bed with fresh bedding.