Chapter 420 Nighttime Chat

Chapter 420: Night Talk

As he spoke, he pulled his opulent purple mink cloak closer, as if even that priceless fur couldn't ward off the bone-piercing chill:

"No matter how fiercely the brazier burns, it can't stop the draft from cutting through. I thought I could endure it, but this northern frontier is nothing like Nanling after all..." He raised his eyes to look at Cheng Ge.

Hearing this, Cheng Ge scrambled out of bed and headed for the door, his brows slightly furrowed.

"I've already sent my man to find the innkeeper," Yun Xunyu said, his voice even lower, "but out here in the middle of nowhere, this late at night... I doubt it'll do much good."

He paused, as if the words were painful to say but he had no choice, his eyes darting between Cheng Ge and Lin Nanshu.

They finally settled on Cheng Ge, his voice barely above a sigh, "My dear... could I... just get out of the cold for a bit? Just until the window's fixed or it gets light out, then I'll go. I won't be any trouble."

His little speech, combined with that fancy outfit that only made him look more "down on his luck," and the way he deliberately played up his sickly look, hit way harder than just showing up in thin clothes and begging. It made it really hard to say no.

Especially for Cheng Ge, who already had complicated feelings about him. Seeing him in this state of "noble refinement fallen to the cold," whatever walls he'd put up were about to crumble.

Lin Nanshu stood by the door, watching Yun Xunyu's whole act play out.

His warm expression didn't change, but his eyes were as still as a deep pond, sweeping over the other man's pricey purple mink cloak and jade pendant, then landing on that face so carefully arranged to show just the right amount of vulnerability and pleading.

This Nanling prince had the whole "retreat to advance" and "play weak to get sympathy" routine down to a science.

The window might really be broken, but this whole performance...

Before Lin Nanshu could say anything, Cheng Ge beat him to it, his eyes locked onto Yun Xunyu's: "Weren't you fine just a second ago? How'd it suddenly break?"

Confronted with Cheng Ge's direct question, Yun Xunyu didn't rush to defend himself.

He just lowered his eyes, his thick lashes casting a quiet shadow beneath them, hiding every trace of emotion.

On that dazzlingly beautiful face, the sickly flush hadn't faded, but now it carried a hint of quiet resignation.

He pressed his pale lips together, let out two more barely audible coughs, his shoulders shaking slightly with each one.

The more he stayed quiet, the more he didn't defend himself, the more Cheng Ge's suspicion felt like it was punching a pillow—with nothing to grab onto, and even... a nagging worry that maybe he was being too harsh.

Just then, hurried footsteps came pounding up the stairs—it was the same attendant with the lantern.

He jogged up, took one look at the three of them frozen in the doorway, and almost yelped:

"Sir! Sir! I'm so sorry! It's all my fault!"

The attendant panted heavily, bowing repeatedly to Yun Xunyu, his face a mixture of panic and remorse:

"I already did what your man asked—added more braziers and thicker quilts, but that crack... there's just no plugging it! All the heat's leaking out! And this late at night, there's no handyman to be found..."

The more he talked, the more panicked he got, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He looked desperately from Cheng Ge to Lin Nanshu, then back to Yun Xunyu, completely at a loss.

"Sir, what... what are we supposed to do about this? Maybe... I should go get the innkeeper to figure something out?"

His words put Yun Xunyu squarely in the "poor victim" role—the inn's screw-up leaving an honored guest to freeze. Not only did it confirm the window was really broken, it also quietly reinforced Yun Xunyu's whole "poor me, forced to suffer" image.

The apology was so sincere and frantic that nobody could reasonably suspect Yun Xunyu of pulling the strings himself.

Cheng Ge finished listening and couldn't help scratching his jaw, thinking, so it really was the inn's fault after all...

Lin Nanshu listened quietly to the attendant's earnest-sounding "apology" and "explanation," his gaze passing over Yun Xunyu's slightly lowered face.

The hallway went quiet again, broken only by the occasional whistle of wind through the building.

Cheng Ge looked at Yun Xunyu's red, cold-chapped nose, and an inexplicable wave of pity welled up in him.

After all, if he hadn't asked for help, Yun Xunyu could've stayed in Nanling living it up as a prince, instead of suffering in this bitter, frozen land.

Cheng Ge's hand pressed against the freezing doorframe, his fingertips digging in, knuckles going white.

The refusal kept rolling around in his throat, but in the end, he just couldn't get the word "no" out.

Lin Nanshu stayed by the door, standing as straight as a pine, not taking the bait from Yun Xunyu, just quietly watching the other man put on his little show.

Yun Xunyu waited a moment. Seeing that neither had immediately agreed, a faint glint flickered deep in his eyes, quickly dissolving into deeper dimness and self-mockery.

He turned his head slightly, gazing toward the direction of his own room, his look vacant and forlorn.

"Never mind..." He let out the softest sigh, his voice hoarser than before, carrying a resigned weariness.

"If my dear finds it troublesome, then I... shall not intrude. That room... I can endure it a while longer. It's not entirely uninhabitable."

With that, he made as if to turn away, but his movements carried a noticeable sluggishness and weakness, as if every step drained the last of his strength.

In the moment of turning, he again raised his arm, pressing the wide sleeve of his luxurious purple mink cloak to his mouth and nose, coughing several times in quick succession—suppressed, yet persistent.

The coughs rang out with unusual clarity in the silent corridor, each one like a hook, tugging at the listener's heartstrings.

Lin Nanshu: "..."

Even Lin Nanshu, with his steady temperament and excellent composure, felt his warm expression stiffen almost imperceptibly for a moment.

This Nanling prince... truly... knew exactly how to manipulate people's hearts—especially how to manipulate Cheng Ge's heart, which yielded to softness rather than force and was all too prone to guilt.

Sure enough, the moment Cheng Ge heard those coughs and saw Yun Xunyu's "struggling" lonely figure preparing to leave, the last shred of hesitation flew out the window.

Cheng Ge grabbed hold of Yun Xunyu's purple mink cloak sleeve. What met his hand was an expected coldness and slickness, as if the splendid garment truly held no warmth at all.

Yun Xunyu stumbled slightly at the pull, naturally leaning against the doorframe.

He raised his eyes, carrying a cautious hope: "My dear..."

Cheng Ge's hand, gripping his sleeve, felt a jolt of numbness at the tips of his fingers from that low address.

As if scalded, he abruptly released his grip, but found nowhere to put his hand, leaving it stiffly at his side.

He swallowed hard, almost daring not to look at Yun Xunyu's eyes again. Flustered, he turned his head, casting a pleading look toward Lin Nanshu, who had been silently observing from within the room, and called out in a dry voice: "Yuli..."

Lin Nanshu took in Cheng Ge's nearly overflowing soft-heartedness at a glance. His gaze passed calmly over Yun Xunyu, leaning against the doorframe, then settled back on Cheng Ge's troubled face.

He shifted his body slightly to the side, his tone polite and distant. "Since Your Highness does not disdain our humble quarters, you may stay for the night. Please, come in."

At these words, a faint glimmer—almost impossible to catch—flashed deep in Yun Xunyu's eyes.

He gave Lin Nanshu the slightest nod, his voice low and gentle: "Thank you for your understanding, Master Lin. I apologize for the intrusion."

And so it was that Yun Xunyu, by playing on sympathy, successfully climbed into Lin Nanshu's bed—ah... no... Cheng Ge's bed.

Cheng Ge curled up under the quilt, finally feeling the warmth return to his frozen limbs, and let out a comfortable sigh.

He instinctively glanced to the left—Yun Xunyu had already shed that excessively ornate purple mink cloak.

He wore only the equally exquisite dark purple sleeping robe beneath, his ink-black hair fanned out across the pillow.

He was lying on his side facing him, those striking phoenix eyes glinting in the dark, watching him without so much as a blink.

Cheng Ge's heart gave a lurch, and he hastily glanced to the right—Lin Nanshu was also lying on his side, facing outward, breathing evenly, as if already asleep, leaving him only the sight of a back that looked remarkably composed and straight in the faint snowlight.

Wedged in the middle, Cheng Ge found the bed unprecedentedly cramped and... eerie.

He couldn't help but twist his mouth into a wry grin, trying to cut through the stifling tension with a joke, and dropped his voice:

"Tsk, other folks get 'a wife, kids, and a toasty bed,' but us? Three grown-ass men crammed onto one beat-up bed... If this gets out, people will laugh their asses off."

The moment he finished, a faint chuckle sounded from his left.

Then, Cheng Ge felt a loose strand of hair by his pillow get caught by a cool fingertip, twirled and toyed with.

"My dear, you're mistaken," he drawled, his fingers still winding around that strand, his voice sinking lower, like a lover's murmur, seeping into Cheng Ge's ears through the silent dark, strand by strand. "In ancient days, the loves of Long Yang and the tales of Duan Xiu and Fen Tao were celebrated tales too.

The mountain has trees, the trees have branches; my heart delights in you—do you know? What has love to do with man or woman?"

He paused, his breath ghosting over Cheng Ge's earlobe, his voice sounding like it had a hook in it:

"As the poem goes, 'I wish for your constant sweet smile, to hold hands and ride home together.' Though we lack a carriage now, sharing this quilt and pillow, holding hands... isn't asking for much."

His voice was already lush and alluring, and now deliberately gentled and slowed, reciting these already intimate, lingering verses—each word a honey-dipped feather, stroking the itchiest place in a heart.

Cheng Ge went completely rigid, as if his pressure points had been sealed, half his body tingling and scorching, blood flooding to his skull.

He wanted to dodge, but Lin Nanshu's warm back was right there—nowhere to go.

His throat ran dry, and he reached over and gave his waist a vicious pinch, his voice cracking as he hissed urgently: "Just shut up, will you..."

Yun Xunyu let out a low laugh, leaning in until his nose almost brushed Cheng Ge's ear, in a whisper meant only for the two of them:

"Though the brocade quilt is warm, it feels thin; thinking of you is jade-cold, piercing to the bone. I'd become your inner robe, pressed to your chest, sharing warmth and cold in silence... Would my sweet be willing..."

The final line—"I'd become your inner robe, pressed to your chest, sharing warmth and cold in silence"—he articulated with feather-light precision, yet it carried the weight of a thousand pounds, slamming directly into Cheng Ge's eardrums.

With a "boom," the last thread of "reason" in Cheng Ge's mind snapped clean through.

Every drop of blood in him seemed to surge to the touched spot, then detonate, scorching him until every limb and bone trembled.

He no longer gave a damn if he woke Lin Nanshu, and flipped over abruptly, about to clamp a hand over the other's mouth.

Cheng Ge: Fuck! This bastard, scared everyone won't know you're gay, huh!

However, the moment he moved, his wrist was firmly caught by an even stronger hand.

But his hand was intercepted mid-air by another warm, dry hand.

It was Lin Nanshu.

He had turned around at some point, moving so fast it was utterly silent.

Still gripping Cheng Ge's wrist, he raised his other hand and tugged the man toward him.

Cheng Ge: "???"

In the darkness, Lin Nanshu's voice rang out, lower than usual, carrying a calm authority, each word clear and distinct:

"Your Highness, the night is late, and the poetry has gone on long enough. Muyu is frail and needs his rest."

His tone was polite—even "courteous"—but his authority was undiminished, carrying an unspoken warning.

Yun Xunyu slowly lifted his eyes, and over the nearly entwined Cheng Ge, locked gazes with Lin Nanshu in the dark.

Though neither could read the other's eyes, the air seemed to ring with the clash of cold blades.

After a beat, Yun Xunyu was the first to look away. He gave a faint, derisive snort, edging his body closer to Cheng Ge.

"Eldest Young Master Lin is right—time to sleep," Yun Xunyu said, his voice slipping back into its earlier lazy, flat tone, as if that whole flirtation and standoff had never occurred.

"But... my dear, though mountains and rivers lie far apart, when old friends drift into dreams, it's still hard to let go.

Now that I see you unchanged, that feeling is like creeping vines—can't be hidden, and... no longer do I want to hide it."

He paused, his gaze skimming almost imperceptibly over Lin Nanshu's silent shoulders.

"Better than... being so near yet so far, casting a whole bright moon into the dark currents of a ditch. What does Master Lin make of that?"

The words were veiled, yet cut deeper than outright provocation—every word seemed to jab at some tacit, unspoken secret.

Cheng Ge was already dead tired, and listening to him drone on with all that highfalutin nonsense was even more sleep-inducing.

In no time, drowsiness flooded over him like a tide, his mind drifting on the edge of awake and out.

"Quit... reciting..." he slurred groggily, his eyelids weighing a thousand pounds, just wanting to find some quiet corner and pass the hell out.

Almost on pure instinct, he started moving in a haze, just rolling over to face Lin Nanshu, who was on the outside.

Then, before either of them could react, Cheng Ge curled himself up like some big animal, pressed against Lin Nanshu's side, and with arms and legs flailing, rolled—gulu—right over Lin Nanshu's body!

A warm, familiar body weight suddenly enveloped him and rolled over him, crushing.

Lin Nanshu's whole body went rigid on the spot, as if flash-frozen, his retort dying in his throat.

He could feel, clearly, Cheng Ge's taut waist and stomach brush across his chest through the two thin layers of sleepwear as he rolled past, and for a split second, Cheng Ge's bent knee even accidentally pressed against the outside of his thigh...

The touch was clear, warm, and gone in an instant, yet like a spark hitting a pan of oil, it lit a silent blaze of heat through his rigid frame.

Cheng Ge had made it—"rolled" all the way to the outermost edge of the bed, facing the bed's edge, curling himself up almost immediately, mumbling vaguely:

"Yuli... swap... you take the middle... chat with him at length..."

Before the words even died out, the sound of even breathing rose—he was out cold in seconds.

Leaving Lin Nanshu rigid in place, the lingering warmth and feel of where he'd been "rolled over" refusing to fade, his heart hammering like a war drum in his chest, the roar of blood rushing in his ears.

In the dark, his breath caught, and his fingers unconsciously clenched the sheet beneath him.

Yun Xunyu: "............"