Chapter 33: Into a Political Intrigue Novel, Day 11

Chapter 33: The Eleventh Day of Being Thrust Into a Political Intrigue Novel

An Yi was handling official business in the Department of State Affairs.

Who would have thought that from a board director to a Minister of the Chancellery, the workload would still be this heavy?!

Why do people have to work?!

Just then, the comment section’s voice echoed in his ears:

“Confirmed—the protagonist of this book is GAY!”

“He just wants to hook up with An Yi!”

“So this is actually a danmei novel?”

“Did I pick the wrong channel?”

“The author picked the wrong channel!”

“No way—it’s just the author’s poor writing skills, using words incorrectly!”

“Still fake? Isn’t it written plainly that Ge Lian is smitten?”

“What the hell?!”

“...”

An Yi: ...

He rubbed his temples, pushed aside those words, and carefully searched for discussions related to the plot:

“Is An Yi bringing this evidence to Ge Lian to switch sides?”

“Or does he simply want to take out his mentor and get ahead on his own?”

“Probably both. Based on the current description, An Yi’s character seems to be someone with great ambition and a ruthless hand.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be controlled by Duan Mingde anymore, so he’s taking a kill-two-birds-with-one-stone approach?”

“Didn’t he already plan to get rid of Wang Xian earlier?”

“With a personality like his, even if he allies with the protagonist now, won’t he eventually stab him in the back?”

“Probably not. When has the protagonist ever been backstabbed by his own CP?”

“Duan Mingde—can the author even name characters properly? ‘Short-lived’?”

“So the name itself was a prophecy!”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

“From the description, Ge Lian is going to accept An Yi’s defection?”

“Seems like it. He doesn’t look like he’s going to mess with An Yi—he’s totally smitten!”

“Being smitten is exactly why he’ll hook up with An Yi!”

“When you guys say ‘hook up’... do you mean the same thing?”

“Heh heh!”

An Yi: ...

----------

When he left the Department of State Affairs, the sky had already darkened.

An Ping, his attendant, had long been waiting at the foot of the steps, holding a horn lantern. A warm circle of light fell on the bluestone pavement.

“Lord An, you’re done?”

A slightly lazy male voice sounded behind him. An Yi paused mid-stride and slowly turned around.

There stood Ge Lian, lounging against a gnarled old locust tree by the roadside. His deep black casual robes almost melted into the night, and only his sharp, handsome face, illuminated by the faint light of distant palace lanterns, bore a faint, ambiguous smile as he stared intently at An Yi.

Ge Lian straightened up and stepped forward. His tall, commanding figure carried an intangible pressure as he walked straight up to An Yi.

The distance between them narrowed.

Ge Lian bowed his head slightly, his gaze locked onto An Yi’s eyes. A hint of an ambiguous curve appeared at the corner of his lips:

“Lord An, you truly have remarkable methods.”

His voice was low, each word seemingly ground out between his teeth, carrying a slight huskiness.

Hearing this, An Yi’s lips also curved into a light, shallow smile. The warmth of his smile remained, but it seemed covered by a thin layer of ice, exuding a deliberate coldness that kept people at a distance.

He remembered the infuriating “teasing” outside the palace gate and spoke with a flat, almost intentionally indifferent tone:

“Not as impressive as the Junior Marquis, who moves with thunderous force and ransacks houses and digs up grounds with such decisiveness.”

Ge Lian raised an eyebrow slightly. An Yi’s words almost confessed that Wang Xian’s matter and those “conveniently placed” evidence were all his doing.

But this attitude... Ge Lian felt a wave of irritation.

Since he chose to throw him an olive branch and use his hand to eliminate Duan Mingde, why was he still so cold to him?

Was he still hung up on the incident at the palace gate earlier?

Back then... he had indeed been a bit reckless. He didn’t know what had gotten into him—he must have lost his mind.

Recalling the moment when he inexplicably leaned in to sniff the other’s neck and was left blushing and flustered by An Yi’s “Do you have feelings for me?”, Ge Lian’s ears began to burn again.

He subconsciously raised his hand, made a fist, and gave a feigned cough against his lips. His voice carried a rare, awkward sincerity:

“Lord An, before... I was rash and rude, acting without propriety. I offended you greatly, and I hope... you will forgive me and not hold it against me.”

Hearing this, An Yi finally lifted his eyes and looked directly at the tall, handsome man who now seemed somewhat awkward in the dim night.

The warm glow of the lantern softened his overly sharp features, adding a rare touch of genuineness.

An Yi’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was crisp and cold, like shattered jade: “Mm.”

He responded lightly, sparingly, “Apology accepted.”

Ge Lian: “...”

He was choked by those two light, perfunctory words, his breath stuck in his chest.

Standing tall with the lantern in his hand, its light cast his angular profile into sharp relief—heroic yet exuding a predatory masculinity—but the expression on his face was unnatural, tinged with rare annoyance and frustration.

"Lord An, I, Ge Mou, truly know I was wrong."

He had come to understand that An Yi, with a gentle, jade-like demeanor and the air of a refined scholar, was actually deeply calculating, vengeful, impervious to both soft and hard approaches—a truly difficult man to deal with!

An Yi only smiled, said no more, and made a slight cupped-hand salute to Ge Lian with elegant grace: "I understand, Young Marquis. The night is late. I shall take my leave now."

An Yi recalled the comments from the online forum earlier, and their content left him unsure what to say.

Now, seeing Ge Lian's attitude, he wasn't stupid; he could clearly see that the comments had some truth to them.

In the original work, Ge Lian had no romantic partner and not a hint of romantic description, so naturally his sexual orientation could not be discerned.

But now...

He is gay.

But as for me... oh well, I currently have no such thoughts; I'll see how things develop later.

An Ping had already placed the brocade-wrapped footstool firmly beside the carriage shaft.

An Yi stepped onto it, slightly bending over, ready to enter the carriage.

His fingers with prominent knuckles naturally rested on An Ping's blue-grey coarse cloth sleeve. Under the dim lamplight, those long, well-proportioned fingers appeared even more jade-like and translucent.

Ge Lian gritted his teeth, his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily: "Even his hands are beautiful..."

Seeing An Yi's carriage about to start and leave, he immediately called out loudly: "Lord An! An Junheng—you just wait!"

Inside the carriage, An Yi sat steadily.

Hearing that shout from outside, a subtle ripple stirred in his eyes. He raised his hand and, with his long index and middle fingers, gently lifted a corner of the silver-threaded curtain by the carriage window.

Through that narrow gap, his gaze precisely fixed on the figure holding a lantern, standing tall as a pine in the night. His lips parted slightly, his voice not loud but cutting clearly through the thin night air:

"Mm," he responded, his tone lifting slightly, "I'll be waiting."

He watched the carriage disappear into the depths of the night, with only the creaking sound of wheels rolling over bluestone gradually fading away.

After a long moment, he seemed to come back to his senses, and carrying the dim yellow lantern, he slowly turned around and sauntered back.