Chapter 203: How Many Moves Can You Take?

Chapter 203: How Many Moves Can You Take

A yellow blur darted out of the armory like lightning.

Dahuang had a heavy longsword clamped between his jaws. Cheng Ge snatched the blade from Dahuang’s mouth.

The blade flashed a cold, piercing glint in the sunlight—without a word, he swung it straight down at Yun Xunyu’s head!

The motion was fluid, without a shred of hesitation—only the determination to split Yun Xunyu in half.

Yun Xunyu’s cheek still throbbed with fiery pain. Seeing the blade coming, he was forced to lean back awkwardly, barely dodging the fierce strike.

*Clang—!* The saber slammed into the stone floor where he had just been standing. A deep crack split the flagstone, sending fragments flying.

Lin Nanshu’s hand unconsciously clenched the cold edge of the arched gate.

Watching Cheng Ge hunt down Yun Xunyu with one increasingly deadly move after another, each scene made his heart tremble.

Yun Xunyu dodged with light footwork, showing no intention of fighting back.

Even in the midst of the frantic danger, he still had the audacity to reach out and touch Cheng Ge’s flushed cheek.

“Sweetheart, you’re so cruel…” he whined with feigned grievance.

His answer was an even fiercer swing of the blade. A dull thud followed, accompanied by dust shaking loose from the walls—

*Bam!* Yun Xunyu finally ran out of room to evade. His back slammed solidly against the courtyard wall. A pot of flowers on the corner quivered violently, raising a little puff of dust.

Yun Xunyu grunted, momentarily pinned in place.

Lin Nanshu: “!!!”

His grandfather Lin Zhufeng's slightly helpless, teasing words echoed in his mind:

“…Learn a thing or two from that third prince of Nanling—he’s really resourceful…”

His gaze instinctively shifted to Yun Xunyu, who was leaning against the wall, clutching his chest.

His hair was disheveled, and a trace of blood still clung to the corner of his lips. He could barely catch his breath.

Lin Nanshu’s throat moved as he swallowed hard. He slowly turned his eyes back to Cheng Ge, who was still holding the saber in the middle of the courtyard.

He lowered his gaze, seriously pondering a crucial question.

If it were him, without fighting back, how many of Cheng Ge’s furious strikes could he come out of unscathed?

The thought was dismissed almost as soon as it arose. A couple should be in perfect harmony.

Besides, his grandparents' relationship had evolved naturally,

completely unlike his current situation.

His grandfather's advice was ultimately useless to him.

Hmm… that must be it. Fighting is wrong.

“Yuli? What brings you here?”

Just then, Cheng Ge caught a glimpse of someone under the moon gate. His eyes suddenly lit up, as if a warm sun had broken through a gloomy sky.

He casually dropped the saber with a clatter, turned without hesitation, and trotted over to Lin Nanshu.

The murderous ferocity on his face vanished instantly, leaving only pure delight.

Lin Nanshu watched him rush over, steps light, still carrying a storm of unspent anger and vitality.

For the first time, faced with Cheng Ge’s approach, a near-panicked flutter rose in his chest.

The scene just now had been too shocking—Yun Xunyu’s blood-stained lip and Cheng Ge’s fierce blade still flashed before his eyes.

This person running toward him now seemed to carry an aura of lingering gunpowder and… some kind of scorching energy he couldn’t control.

Almost instinctively, he extended the food box slightly.

It was a gesture that seemed to seek refuge, and also to prove something. His voice, still clear and warm, carried a subtle tension unusual for him:

“I… brought you something to eat.”

Cheng Ge had already reached him. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead; his breath came fast from the chase.

He looked down at the familiar food box, caught a whiff of sweet fragrance, and his eyes curved into crescents, as if sprinkled with starlight—all his sharp edges softened in that moment.

“Osmanthus cake!” he cheered, taking the box from Lin Nanshu with natural ease, his fingertips carelessly brushing over Lin Nanshu’s cool hand.

That brief touch felt like a tiny electric shock, making Lin Nanshu’s heart skip a beat, then race faster.

Watching Cheng Ge’s unshadowed joy and recalling the lightning-like slap and blade from moments ago…

Two utterly different images collided in his mind, leaving him momentarily dazed.

He could only stare blankly at Cheng Ge’s profile as he eagerly lifted the box lid.

Hesitating, Lin Nanshu shifted his gaze from Cheng Ge’s cheerful figure to the figure in the corner.

He walked slowly over. The air still smelled faintly of dust and blood.

Yun Xunyu leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to his chest, breathing shallowly. The red mark on his cheek was still vivid, and the blood at the corner of his mouth wasn’t fully wiped away—he looked pretty pitiful.

“Third Prince,” Lin Nanshu’s voice was clear and gentle, carrying a subtle, indescribable complexity. He extended a hand, lightly supporting Yun Xunyu. “Are you… alright?”

Yun Xunyu straightened a little with his assistance, but his gaze passed over Lin Nanshu’s shoulder to settle on Cheng Ge, who was fully focused on the osmanthus cake, utterly oblivious to what was happening nearby.

A faint, ambiguous smile tugged at his lips, but it pulled at his wounds, making him let out a soft hiss.

Then he turned to Lin Nanshu, his tone light, with his usual lazy drawl—though now a bit weak:

“No harm done… Thank you for your concern, Master Lin.”

Just then, hearing the commotion, the house physician and two servants hurried over. Seeing Yun Xunyu like this—obviously a common sight—they quickly and carefully helped him up.

Yun Xunyu said nothing more, letting them help him as he walked with unsteady steps toward the guest room. His back suggested he wouldn’t recover for at least a day or two.

Lin Nanshu watched him leave, then returned to the stone table.

Cheng Ge had already polished off half the box of cake. Lin Nanshu sat down across from him.

He picked up the teapot warming on the small clay stove and slowly poured the freshly brewed tea into a white porcelain cup. Steam rose, and the fragrance of tea was crisp.

He carefully slid the cup over to Cheng Ge, his voice gentle: “Eat slowly, careful not to choke. Have some tea, to soothe your throat. It’s freshly brewed, careful—it’s hot.”

Cheng Ge looked up at once, his mouth still full of pastry, and flashed Lin Nanshu a perfect eight-tooth grin.

"Yuli!" He wolfed down the pastry, gulped some tea, then slapped his chest with a dramatic, heroic flourish.

"You're the best brother I have here! Really!

If anything ever comes up, just say the word. I, Cheng Ge, would go through fire and water for you—through thick and thin, no hesitation!"

As he spoke, his gaze was open and passionate, staring straight at Lin Nanshu. His eyes were clear and bright, as if they held only Lin Nanshu’s reflection at that moment.

Lin Nanshu's fingertips tightened slowly around the teacup. The warmth of the cup seeped into his fingertips, but it paled beside the sudden blaze in his chest.

His grandfather's words echoed clearly in his ears once more, like a war drum beating, urging the beast that had been caged too long within his heart.

"In matters of the heart, being too polite and restrained will only make you miss your chance. You must take the initiative when the time comes."

A flicker of conflict crossed his eyes, then gave way to a resolve he hadn't shown in a long time.

He took a deep breath and whispered, his voice barely audible and trembling slightly, "Muyu..."

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