Chapter 26#

Among the scattered wolf corpses, Rong Yu reached out, gripped Chu Tan by the neck, and kissed him#

Rong Yu woke from unconsciousness to find himself lying on a patch of grass, a dense, pitch-black forest before him and a sheer cliff wall behind him.

He rubbed his throbbing head. He and Chu Tan had been carried by the maddened horse all the way to the cliff’s edge without being able to stop, plummeting off the precipice. In the nick of time, Chu Tan had driven his dagger into the rock face, slowing their fall, while the horse plunged to the bottom of the ravine.

The last fragment in his memory was Chu Tan’s fluttering robes and bloodstained brow.

Right—Chu Tan.

Rong Yu turned to look around and finally spotted the unconscious man two meters away.

“Chu Tan,” Rong Yu called.

Chu Tan didn’t respond.

“Chu Tan!” Rong Yu raised his voice slightly.

The sound echoed through the silent valley, inexplicably sending a chill down the spine.

Chu Tan lay there quietly, still showing no reaction.

He couldn’t be dead, could he? Rong Yu could only drag himself over on his two legs. His cloak was already caked with mud and green grass stains, and his white robes were filthy beyond recognition.

After laboriously crawling to Chu Tan’s side, Rong Yu examined him carefully. The blood on his face should be from the tiger, already dried into crusty patches. There was a gash on the bridge of his nose, his hands were covered in scrapes, and the skin over his knuckles was torn, blood and gravel clumped together—likely wounds from his hands scraping against the rock face during the fall.

Nothing else seemed visibly wrong elsewhere.

Rong Yu patted Chu Tan’s face. “Chu Tan. Chu Tan, wake up!”

Chu Tan’s chest was still rising and falling, but no matter what, he wouldn’t wake.

Rong Yu grew irritated. The sun was setting in the west, the temperature dropping. He drew his cloak tighter, coughed twice, his expression gloomier than the sky.

When that final arrow had come flying from behind, he’d caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision—it was Gu Yueze.

Gu Yueze had been causing him trouble all day—sneering at him in the hunting grounds, goading him into the hunt, driving a tiger at him to threaten his life, and finally spooking the horse to send him tumbling off the cliff.

He wondered why Gu Yueze would want him dead. Was it merely to vent anger on behalf of Rong Yue? Or was there some other scheme behind it? And why did the Crown Prince keep showing him closeness and goodwill—didn’t he also love Rong Yue?

As he thought, his mind drifted to how Chu Tan had killed a tiger to save him, and even jumped off the cliff after him. Rong Yu understood very well that if not for having him in tow, Chu Tan could easily have escaped on his own with his martial arts.

That was precisely what Rong Yu couldn’t figure out—why on earth would Chu Tan risk so much to save him?

If he’d failed, Chu Tan’s grand ambitions would have been left unfinished.

Rong Yu realized belatedly that even though he knew the plot’s every turn and understood each character’s experiences and fates, he still couldn’t see through Chu Tan. It was as if a thin layer of mist always hung over him, obscuring his form.

Rong Yu lowered his gaze to Chu Tan. The man’s eyes were tightly shut, brows faintly furrowed, his face covered in nothing but blood and dirt—yet it couldn’t hide his handsome, sharp features. The fragile quality brought by his wounds interwove with the killing intent between his brows, creating an inexplicable allure.

Rong Yu grew even more annoyed.

He slapped Chu Tan’s face hard. Seeing the man still wouldn’t wake, he picked up a stone at random and hurled it into the distance, futilely venting the frustration he couldn’t shake. Even he himself didn’t know where this suffocating, clogged feeling came from.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have come to the hunting grounds at all. No matter how much Rong Xiuyong threatened or scared him, he could always find a way to escape. Why had he come to this hunt at all, landing himself in this situation?

Rong Yu looked toward the horizon. The sun would set any moment now, and every wisp of wind carried a bleak, desolate chill.

At the end of the day, it was his own overconfidence. He’d thought of the ancients too simplistically, treating even the characters in these books as mere paper cutouts. He’d always believed that knowing the plot meant he could sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight, observe with cold detachment like watching a movie whose ending he already knew.

But he’d forgotten—he was already in the game.

He was in a rigidly hierarchical feudal dynasty, at the heart of political power in the capital, in a place full of nobles where each step up the ladder was an insurmountable chasm. No matter how much he knew, no matter how sharp his mind, at the end of the day he was nothing more than the most neglected crippled young master of a third-rank official’s household.

One Rong Xiuyong alone could put plenty of obstacles in his path—let alone the second-rank officials, the prime minister, the countless dukes and marquises, and the imperial princes and grandsons.

Every single one of them was a behemoth to him; a mere twitch of their fingers could make it impossible for him to take another step.

Take Gu Yueze, for instance—a noble’s son with no official post, no scholarly title. He didn’t need to scheme, didn’t need a plan. In front of all those people, he openly shot an arrow into Rong Yu’s horse, trying to kill him.

What Gu Yueze relied on was whoever stood behind him.

A general? A prince? Or the Crown Prince?

Rong Yu lowered his head and covered his face, deep frustration and regret washing over him.

This sinking feeling didn’t stem from uncertainty about the future or fear for his own life, but from self-reproach at not having been flawless.

He could have avoided this, but his arrogance had made him underestimate his enemy.

That was something Rong Yu couldn’t accept. His mood plummeted, and he sank into a profound spiral of self-doubt.

And as if mirroring his emotions, the sky darkened with alarming speed.

The sun sank fully behind the distant mountains. Night fell.

Spring nights were bitterly cold. Gusts of wind blew through in waves, gnawing at Rong Yu’s already frail body. He shivered uncontrollably, his already pallid face growing several shades whiter.

From ahead came a rustling sound, mixed with the whisper of wind through leaves—both noisy and eerie.

Rong Yu looked up. That pitch-black forest looked like a colossal mouth hidden in the night, ready to swallow him whole at any moment.

Something seemed to be stirring inside. Rong Yu picked up the dagger that had fallen to the ground and tilted his head, staring at the woods.

Soon, several pairs of yellow-green lights emerged from the darkness, drifting slowly, ghostly as will-o’-the-wisps.

As they drew closer, moonlight revealed their forms—several gaunt gray wolves.

Fresh off a hard winter, the wolves were ravenous, tails hanging low, eyes gleaming with ferocious, drooling hunger.

Rong Yu, strangely, felt no fear. Seeing these wolves, he felt not a shred of mortal dread. Instead, the pent-up rage with no outlet sparked a manic fury within him.

He’d already sunk to this state—how dare some reckless beasts come looking for trouble?

All the blood in his body rushed to his head. He couldn’t maintain reason or calm. His breathing grew heavy, his eyes fierce and savage. He felt his energy surging wildly, enough to fight these wolves barehanded. Even with his legs useless, he thought recklessly—at worst, he’d die.

And so he faced off against the wolves in grim silence, while they paced back and forth, observing and waiting for the moment to strike.

Then a great gust of wind swept through, the shadowy branches swaying like ghostly hands, rustling softly.

One especially large wolf threw back its head and let out a howl—long, far-reaching, piercing—echoing across the silent world. It was the charge of the wolf pack.

Rong Yu tightened his grip on the dagger, adjusted his stance, jaw muscles bulging from sheer overstimulation, ready to meet the wolves’ assault.

At that moment, a cold hand seized his wrist, where the veins stood out.

Chu Tan braced himself on one knee, shielding Rong Yu behind him—but he didn’t look at him. He simply took the dagger from Rong Yu’s hand, his gaze cold and fixed on the wolves, and rasped, “Stay behind me.”

Rong Yu frowned. “I can handle it.”

“Be good.”

The moment the words left Chu Tan’s mouth, the wolves charged. Chu Tan met them with the dagger. He spun and kicked the two in front flying, then dropped into a knee slide and drove the blade into the belly of a wolf that leaped at him.

Its entrails spilled across the ground, and the thick stench of blood instantly stoked the pack’s bloodlust.

The wolves came at him faster and more ferocious. He snapped one wolf’s neck, then broke another’s spine with a kick.

In just a few breaths, wolves lay dead all around. The remaining ones were shaken, halting their advance, hesitating to press on.

Chu Tan held the dagger in his left hand and clenched his right fist, rolling his shoulder with a slight awkwardness, then fixed his hawk-like, piercing gaze on the alpha wolf at the rear.

Kill the alpha, and the rest would scatter on their own.

He launched himself into the air, using a tree trunk to propel himself forward, and clashed with the alpha.

But at that moment, one of the wolves he’d kicked away earlier—not yet dead—staggered to its feet and began making its way toward Rong Yu behind him.

Its bright red tongue lolled out, saliva dripping in long strands, its amber eyes full of greed. Though its organs had shifted, though pain racked its body, though its hind legs were bent at odd angles, none of that could stop its instinct to hunt and kill.

It believed this seemingly frail human before it was no match for it.

Chu Tan, mid-battle, caught sight of this and his eyes went wide with alarm. His dodging slowed in shock, and the alpha immediately sank its teeth into his shoulder. He cursed, whipped his hand back, and drove the dagger into the alpha’s skull—a killing blow.

When he frantically looked back again, he found the wolf that had been approaching Rong Yu already lying dead on the ground, a branch stabbed through its neck, blood gushing from the wound. And at the other end of that branch—Rong Yu’s long, pale hand.

With the alpha dead, the remaining wolves gradually dispersed.

Chu Tan walked over to Rong Yu, crouched down, and lifted Rong Yu’s chin.

Rong Yu raised his eyelids. A drop of blood fell from his trembling lashes. He wiped it away carelessly with his wrist, his eyes filled with neurotic excitement and pleasure.

“I said I could handle it.”

Chu Tan stared at him, the alarm and worry hidden deep in his eyes slowly receding. A moment later, he gave a lazy smile. “I underestimated you, young master.”

The corners of Rong Yu’s mouth curled up uncontrollably, and he began recounting to Chu Tan, with great animation, how he’d dodged the wolf’s attack and killed it.

What could have been said in two sentences became a torrent of words from him—jumbled, disjointed, his gestures flying out of control.

Rong Yu was well aware this state of his was wrong, but he couldn’t stop.

It had been a long time since he’d been like this. Medication could ease his symptoms to a degree, but it had been too long since he’d taken any.

And the shocks he’d endured in this single day had been too great, his emotions rollercoastering wildly, leaving him somewhat unable to control himself now.

Anyone normal would find his current behavior unsettling.

Would Chu Tan think he was a madman?

Rong Yu looked at Chu Tan and found him listening with complete absorption, a faint smile on his lips, his gaze soft, his expression earnest, occasionally using his sleeve to wipe the blood from Rong Yu’s face.

There was even a hint of tenderness.

Rong Yu’s heart suddenly pounded violently—thump, thump—pumping scorching blood through his limbs, making every nerve tremble with excitement.

Was this because of the wolves this time?

Rong Yu didn’t know. But he did know one thing: at this moment, Chu Tan was driving him mad with attraction.

Everything—mind and body, his brain, his organs, even every single cell—was screaming.

He wanted to make love to Chu Tan.

Among the scattered wolf corpses, Rong Yu reached out, gripped Chu Tan by the neck, and kissed him.

【Author’s Note:】

Making love is out of the question, but kissing and rubbing against each other is still doable, hehe.