Chapter 67

A startled yelp followed, childlike and indignant: "Ah! Seeking death!"

The message brought by Yueya was that Ting Shu was not in the Baili residence. Unable to find anyone and unwilling to take on human form to investigate further for now, Ting Shu, fearing that Ning Shiting’s letters might contain important secrets, had destroyed them before hurrying back to look for him.

Ning Shiting had no idea where Ting Shu had gone. The little child never used magical artefacts and had refused to see him before leaving.

Not knowing Ting Shu’s current situation felt like a thorn lodged in his heart, blending worry and melancholy into a deep-seated pain he couldn’t voice or resolve.

Fortunately, another piece of news arrived around the same time, stating that Baili Hongzhou, following the Immortal Emperor’s orders, was preparing for another visit to Xizhou in the coming days.

This was merely two or three days after Su Yue’s assassination. With the Immortal Continent's swift communication, Qing Wang’s faction now faced the emperor’s inquiries and the need to account to various parties, leaving them extraordinarily busy. 

During his period of feigned illness, Ning Shiting worked tirelessly, writing memorials to the throne. On one hand, he had sent Yueya to inquire about Ting Shu’s whereabouts; on the other, he directly submitted a memorial to the Immortal Emperor, clearly detailing the assassination attempt he had encountered in Xianzhou and requesting a thorough investigation.

This move enraged the Su family, who were already gnashing their teeth in hatred. The Immortal Emperor, who was already displeased with Qing Wang’s faction, was further influenced by the Empress’s words and merely issued a cursory “to be discussed another day,” hastily ordering the strengthening of Xizhou’s border defences as a superficial solution.

In the study, Gu Tingshuang carefully reviewed the memorials on Ning Shiting’s desk one by one.

Ning Shiting sat not far away, wrapped in thick layers, cradling a small, fluffy wolf pup in his arms. In front of him was a cup of thick, dark medicinal decoction.

His voice was hoarse, barely more than a faint whisper when he spoke, soft and shallow.

He murmured instructions in a low voice from one side, and Gu Tingshuang helped him transcribe them.

Ning Shiting, who had just recovered from a serious illness, now had wounds from the assassin’s attack that had not yet healed. It seemed inevitable that he was about to fall gravely ill once again.

While Ning Shiting was recuperating and had no time to play with the little wolf, the pup sneaked over to Gu Tingshuang, whining and making a fuss. Frustrated, Gu Tingshuang decided to help Ning Shiting with his work to keep himself occupied.

At first, Ning Shiting dictated, and Gu Tingshuang wrote. But as Gu Tingshuang gradually grasped the nuances of Ning Shiting’s style, he stopped asking for instructions and began drafting the documents himself. When he finally looked up, Ning Shiting had already fallen asleep.

The fact that Ning Shiting let his guard down so completely gave Gu Tingshuang an odd sense of reassurance. He quietly accepted this trust as a matter of course.

Due to the increased scrutiny of Qing Wang’s faction by the Immortal Emperor, all past memorials had to be organised and compiled into comprehensive records.

Among the documents were numerous submissions Ning Shiting had written to Gu Feiyin in the past. Occasionally, there were replies from Gu Feiyin to Ning Shiting as well.

The more recent memorials appeared perfectly normal. Ning Shiting’s tone was that of a dutiful minister, and Gu Feiyin’s responses, when he bothered to reply, were terse and detached, with phrases like "Understood."

But as Gu Tingshuang delved further back, the tone began to change.

Memorials from before this year often included superfluous phrases, seemingly out of place in their context.

Statements like “This humble servant is willing to go through fire and water,” “I will not fail Dianxia’s expectations,” and “I hope Dianxia cherishes your health and stays well” hinted at something more, subtle yet unmistakably affectionate.

Gu Tingshuang glanced up at Ning Shiting, who was dozing peacefully. The Jiaoren’s sleeping face was serene and delicate, a picture of tranquil beauty.

A faint pang of bitterness welled up in Gu Tingshuang's chest, making his teeth ache slightly.

As he continued sifting through the documents, a sudden discovery stopped him in his tracks.

It was a letter from Gu Feiyin to Ning Shiting, tucked away among the memorials.

For a moment, Gu Tingshuang froze in surprise. Without thinking, he flung the letter aside, unwilling to dwell on it.

It was a love letter, laced with playful and suggestive undertones, written by Gu Feiyin and slipped into one of his official replies to Ning Shiting.

The letter contained…an erotic poem.

Still worried not about a newcomer, when a nine-tied waist is embraced? 

How to embrace it? So soft it seems boneless, a frightening reliance.

In the depths of peach blossoms, through the flowing fords.

Scattered pages fluttered to the floor, and one happened to fall directly onto Ning Shiting's head.

He had been sleeping deeply, with the little wolf curled up beside him, also napping. But the commotion startled the little wolf awake, and it lifted its head, trying to snatch one of the pages. Its movement disturbed Ning Shiting, who stirred awake as well.

Gu Tingshuang, seeing Ning Shiting begin to move, acted quickly. With swift reflexes, he retrieved the pages, stuffing them into his sleeve just before Ning Shiting fully opened his eyes.

Ning Shiting blinked awake, his eyes tinged with a soft redness at the corners, hazy with sleep. His expression was one of gentle confusion: "?"

Gu Tingshuang found it hard to meet his gaze. “It’s… nothing. Just go back to sleep.”

Ning Shiting, too drowsy to question further, trusted his words. He closed his eyes again, eyelashes long and delicate, and soon drifted back into slumber.

Gu Tingshuang’s gaze returned to him.

Jiaoren were soft to the touch—he had experienced this firsthand. Over the past two days, they had been sharing a bed. On the first night, he had rested his hand around Ning Shiting’s waist as they slept, and the impression lingered: the Jiaoren was indeed incredibly soft. So soft, in fact, that Gu Tingshuang occasionally felt the temptation to press a little harder, to see if he could feel the bones beneath.

And Ning Shiting was so slender, with such a fine, delicate waist—there was no question about that.

Would his father have embraced Ning Shiting this way?

As for the line “In the depths of peach blossoms,” Gu Tingshuang couldn’t quite grasp its meaning. Naturally, he interpreted it as referring to Ning Shiting’s lips.

He glanced again.

Ning Shiting tilted his head slightly, leaning against the chair. After being startled awake, the little wolf shifted its position and now lay sprawled across Ning Shiting’s chest, its fluffy head nuzzling beneath his chin.

Ning Shiting’s lips were smooth and supple—perhaps a trait of the Jiaoren—soft, hydrated, and tinted with a delicate shade of pinkish red.

That color wasn’t exactly like the pale pink of peach blossoms, but it wasn’t far off. It evoked a sense of warmth and sweetness, as if it could melt into honey at a touch.

Would his father have kissed Ning Shiting like this?

Gu Tingshuang was startled by his own thoughts, realising he couldn’t quite envision the scene.

He’d seen Gu Feiyin only once, and the memory of his father’s exact appearance was already fading, leaving behind only the vague impression that they bore a strong resemblance to each other.

Yet, in his mind’s eye, the figure standing in his father’s place wasn’t Gu Feiyin.

Instead, it was a different silhouette—the grown-up version of himself he had glimpsed in Ning Shiting’s dreams. That man had deep, unfathomable eyes and a tall, robust frame. Though Gu Tingshuang wasn’t lacking in physique now, the image ignited an old desire: the yearning to grow up faster.

The realisation left Gu Tingshuang restless, his thoughts swirling uncontrollably. It was a turmoil he couldn’t suppress, to the point that he momentarily forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

He decided he couldn’t bear to look at Ning Shiting any longer. Setting down the things in his hands, he maneuvered his wheelchair out the door.

There was no snow today. The estate’s water elementalists had recently repaired the layer of ice that enveloped the residence. Though the chill was no longer as biting as before, the wind outside was still sharp and cold, cutting like blades as it swept against him.

Gu Tingshuang straightened his back, allowing himself to focus on the sensation of the frigid air seeping into his body, each gust delivering a biting pain that was almost cathartic. Slowly, he wandered into the open, letting the cold clear his mind.

He felt clearer now, though he hadn’t yet decided where to go.

Just as his wheelchair slowed to a stop, a faint, unusual sound of wind nearby caught his attention, immediately putting him on alert.

There was nothing in sight, just the usual serene and quiet scene.

Gu Tingshuang frowned. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his sword and sent it flying toward the source of the disturbance, where it embedded itself with a sharp clang in the far wall.

A startled yelp followed, childlike and indignant: "Ah! Seeking death!"

Gu Tingshuang raised an eyebrow and glanced over. Seeing who it was, he quickly lost interest and withdrew his gaze. "Oh, it’s you, ahh."

By the wall, caught mid-sneak, stood none other than Ting Shu, who had been absent for days.

The child seemed to have grown a bit taller during his time away, though it was hard to tell if he’d put on weight. His face still carried its familiar scowl, but his clothes were noticeably finer, giving him the air of a spoilt little gongzi.

Gu Tingshuang showed little surprise at Ting Shu’s sudden reappearance.

The two had never been close. When Ting Shu had been staying at the estate, he was firmly on Ning Shiting’s side and had always looked down on Gu Tingshuang.

Ting Shu shot him a glare and pointed to the sword hovering before him. "If I hadn’t reacted quickly, this sword of yours would’ve spilt my blood right here, Dianxia."

Gu Tingshuang replied coolly, "Instead of using the main entrance or announcing yourself to the staff, you chose to sneak in like an ice mayfly, invisible and suspicious. If I hadn’t shown you mercy, do you think you’d still be alive? Xiao Gongzi Baili."

The atmosphere between them immediately grew tense, charged with a sharper hostility than when Ting Shu had last been at the estate.

Ting Shu’s expression twisted in annoyance, clearly displeased with his new surname. However, faced with Gu Tingshuang, whom he wasn’t familiar with, he held back his temper and begrudgingly offered a polite bow. "Greetings, Shizi. I’m here to see the Gongzi."

"Which Gongzi?" Gu Tingshuang drawled lazily. He saw a rare opportunity to toy with the child, much like Ning Shiting might, and wasn’t about to let it pass. "There’s no Gongzi here. Only my subordinate, Ning Shiting, who’s currently busy carrying out my orders."

Ting Shu stiffened at this and retorted, "I’ll go find him myself."

Gu Tingshuang raised a hand, signalling for him to stop. "To meet someone in my house, you first need my permission, Little Master Baili. You’re far too impatient."

Behind him, the little wolf had appeared, having woken up and followed him outside. Spotting its leader in a standoff, the wolf hurried over, tail raised and baring its teeth in support.

Ting Shu was nearly livid. "Since when did Gongzi become your person? If he belongs to anyone, it’s the Wangye—it’s certainly not your turn to talk about this!"

A flicker of cold light passed through Gu Tingshuang’s eyes. "If you don’t believe me, call him over and ask yourself. Let’s see where his heart truly lies—whether it leans toward my father or toward me—"

He broke off abruptly.

Behind him, Ning Shiting had emerged, bundled in a thick cloak. Upon seeing the scene before him, he blinked in surprise. "Ting Shu?"

Ning Shiting’s gaze fixed on Ting Shu, surprised and unbothered by whatever words had passed between the two. He stretched out a hand, beckoning gently. "Come quickly, Ting Shu."

The child, seeing him, forgot everything else and darted forward, throwing himself into Ning Shiting’s arms.

After such a long absence, even a sulking child’s resentment could be dissolved in the warmth of genuine affection.

Ting Shu clung to Ning Shiting, gripping his sleeve and tugging to lead him back inside.

Only then did Ning Shiting seem to recall Gu Tingshuang’s presence. His voice, carrying the softness of lingering illness, sounded calm and light. His face was still tinged with the faint flush of a recent fever.

He asked, "What was Dianxia saying just now?"

Gu Tingshuang hesitated before replying, "…Nothing."

Ning Shiting coughed a few times, then said, "The wind is strong outside. Dianxia, you should come back in as well, lest you catch a cold."

The wheelchair creaked as it moved. The little wolf, sensing the shift in mood, tucked its tail and slunk after Gu Tingshuang as they trailed Ning Shiting back into the house.