Chapter 327 Tangled Thoughts

Chapter 327: A Tangled Web of Thoughts

Cheng Ge's neck prickled from Cui Ji's steady breathing, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from the face so close to his.

As if possessed, he raised one hand with agonizing slowness, his fingertips carrying a gentleness he wasn't even aware of, and gently touched Cui Ji's brow bone.

The feel of it made him yank his hand back instantly, as if he'd touched a high-voltage wire.

He swallowed hard, the gulp echoing unnaturally loud in the silence.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut down and reboot, but his brain's CPU overheated and blue-screened.

[System Notice: Loading "Straight Man Certification Protocol v2.0"... Loading Failed]

Cheng Ge's internal theater suddenly kicked off:

Scene One: Soul Interrogation

Inner Cheng Ge A (huddled in a corner with his arms around his knees): Do straight guys snuggle like this?

Inner Cheng Ge B (adjusting imaginary glasses): The "Straight Man Code of Conduct," Article 250, clearly stipulates...

Inner Cheng Ge C (suddenly butting in): Wait! Cui Ji isn't straight at all!

ABC in unison: Wait, what?!

Scene Two: Logic Collapse

Inner Cheng Ge A (ticking off on his fingers): Cui Ji = guy, Cheng Ge = guy, Cui Ji says he likes Cheng Ge = guy likes guy...

Inner Cheng Ge B (clutching his head): This defies logic! What about those beauties the Emperor gave him before?!

Inner Cheng Ge C (suddenly enlightened): It's the same as pairing a sow with a boar!

Scene Three: Shocking Discovery

Inner Cheng Ge A (flipping through an imaginary book): Reportedly, 99.9% of gay guys once firmly believed they were straight.

Inner Cheng Ge B (shocked face): So Cui Ji... took a detour mid-way?

Inner Cheng Ge C (slapping his fist into his palm): Case solved! No wonder everything else about him seemed so straight!

Final Scene: Identity Crisis

The three inner Cheng Ges whipped around in unison, staring intently at the real Cheng Ge: "So the real question is—"

"Are you really a straight man?"

"What happened to being straight as a board?"

"Why didn't your straight man defense system trigger when he held you?"

"This is so not normal!"

Cheng Ge felt like a random bystander who'd been dragged into a performance at the last minute.

And the script had suddenly swapped from "The Daily Life of an Iron Straight Man" to "A Tangled Web of Feelings."

He realized with despair that his twenty-year straight-man operating system might be about to flash a "System Incompatibility" error.

Meanwhile, the real Cheng Ge remained frozen in Cui Ji's arms like a human body pillow, while internally an eighty-episode drama was already playing out.

Finally, he thought, throwing in the towel: Forget it, I'll ponder this philosophical question tomorrow. For now... sleep.

The whole straight-man-certification storm in Cheng Ge's head hadn't fully subsided.

His brain cells were completely drained, and once his battery hit zero, his eyelids drooped shut.

Cui Ji's body wasn't as frail as Cheng Ge's—like a natural furnace, it quickly became toasty warm.

Cheng Ge felt enveloped in a snug, warm embrace, his mind slowly drifting off, and he too sank into a deep sleep.

But this rare peace didn't last long.

"General! Urgent military intelligence!" A soldier's hurried report suddenly sounded outside the tent, cutting through the pre-dawn silence.

The instant the voice broke the silence, Cui Ji's eyes snapped open, the redness in them even more pronounced.

He withdrew his arm with movements that were both impossibly gentle and lightning-fast, rolling over and sitting up.

Cheng Ge was also startled awake by the commotion, groggily opening his eyes just in time to catch Cui Ji's face hardening into a cold, stern mask.

His heart skipped a beat, and the remnants of sleep vanished in an instant.

"Enter." Cui Ji's voice carried a slight hoarseness from just waking, yet brooked no argument.

A personal guard strode in swiftly, not even pausing for a salute, his voice trembling with barely suppressed panic.

"General, bad news! Our supply train was ambushed at Huzhang Ridge!"

The words hit like a thunderclap, detonating inside the tent!

Cui Ji's gaze sharpened instantly, his whole bearing turning cold and razor-sharp.

Cheng Ge's heart lurched violently, his hands and feet turning to ice.

The supply convoy ambushed?! It was the dead of winter, the northern frontier freezing—without food and warm clothes, how could the troops fight? This was like having a hand clamped around their throat!

If they couldn't recover or replenish the supplies in time, forget about counterattacking—whether the entire army could even survive the winter was the question. This battle was doomed to defeat!

Cui Ji had already risen swiftly, donning his outer robe and armor with practiced efficiency, showing not a trace of panic.

As he dressed, he fired off questions in a low, terrifyingly calm voice: "What exactly happened? When did it occur?

Who was leading the escort? How many enemy troops? Which direction did they come from? What's the current status of the convoy? Are there any survivors who reported back?"

The guard, bombarded by Cui Ji's rapid-fire questions, forced down his panic and began reporting one by one.

"To answer the General! It happened around midnight! The convoy was escorted personally by Commandant Liu, and was scheduled to arrive at camp this morning.

According to the two brothers who fought their way back to report, when they reached the vicinity of Huzhang Ridge..."

Huzhang Ridge—Cheng Ge quickly ran through the terrain in his mind. It was a swampy wetland near the border.

In winter, the water was half-frozen, the terrain complex, the paths hard to distinguish—indeed, a perfect place for an ambush.

The guard continued: "...they were suddenly attacked! The enemy's numbers are unknown—they burst out from the reed marshes deep in the swamp.

And... and it seemed they already knew our route in advance, going straight for the supply carts!"

Liu Duwei led the men in a desperate resistance, and two of his men fought their way out to deliver the message... By the time they escaped, several grain carts were already ablaze..."

The air in the tent seemed to freeze. Grain carts on fire... that meant even if they managed to drive back the enemy, the grain they could salvage would be drastically reduced.

Cui Ji's hands, strapping on his wrist guards, didn't pause at all, but his gaze suddenly sharpened like a blade, as if it could cut through the tent walls and reach all the way to Huzhang Ridge.

He pressed further, his voice low: "Where are the men who escaped back? Can they identify the enemy's clothing or weapons? Or did they hear any speech?"

"They're waiting right outside the tent! Both are wounded but conscious.

They said... the enemy wore mismatched leather jackets, not the regulation armor of the Northern Di regulars, but the curved sabers and bows they carried were definitely Northern Di style!

Their accents... all over the place. They couldn't make out what was said."

Not regular troops, yet they had Northern Di weapons, knew the terrain, and hit with deadly precision...

Cheng Ge sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, feeling a chill creep from the soles of his feet all the way up his spine.

Cui Ji was already fully geared up, his black armor radiating a cold, lethal presence.

He strode toward the tent opening, barking orders to his guard: "Take them to the war tent. Sound the drum and summon all officers above colonel rank. Now!"

"Yes!" The guard saluted and hurried off.

Cui Ji was about to push aside the tent flap when a voice, still thick with sleep, came from behind him: "Wait, I... I'm coming too."

Cui Ji stopped mid-step and turned to look at him. Cheng Ge had already thrown off the blanket and sat up.

Though his face still showed signs of sleep, his eyes had sharpened, locked straight on him.