Chapter 424 Longing

Chapter 424: Yearning

That night, the moon was bright and the stars were few, but the north wind had temporarily ceased, leaving the camp quieter than usual.

Lin Nanshu walked to Cheng Ge's tent, carrying a newly bought chess set in his hands.

Cheng Ge had casually mentioned that afternoon that he wanted to play chess with him, so he'd sent someone to the nearby market to pick one up.

The moonlight was like water—perfect for a game and quiet talk.

"Muyu..." He called out softly twice, but no one answered from inside.

The tent was silent, broken only by the occasional crackle of charcoal.

Lin Nanshu hesitated, then gently lifted the heavy tent flap.

The candlelight inside was dim, the warmth cozy.

He immediately saw Cheng Ge slumped over the desk by the window, cheek resting on an open military manual, eyes shut, breathing slow and steady.

Lin Nanshu instinctively lightened his steps and moved closer.

His shadow swayed with the candlelight, slowly swallowing the slumped figure.

He set the chess set aside, grabbed a blanket from the rack, and carefully draped it over Cheng Ge's thin shoulders.

The candlelight flickered, casting Cheng Ge's sleeping face in sharp relief.

Lin Nanshu stood by the desk, his gaze drifting to Cheng Ge's brows and eyes.

As if possessed, he slowly leaned down, his fingertips reaching out of their own accord toward Cheng Ge's furrowed brow.

But just before his fingertips could touch, he stopped short.

He snatched his hand back, fingers curling into his sleeve, the pads still tingling with the faint warmth he'd felt.

He straightened, avoiding Cheng Ge's face, and turned to the brazier in the corner. He stirred it with the tongs and added a few fresh coals.

After adding the coals, he turned to leave. Just as he was about to step out—

"Bang!" A dull, heavy thud of a body hitting the ground came from behind him without warning!

Lin Nanshu's heart lurched, and he spun around!

...

The camp's midnight peace was shattered.

Military physicians rushed into Cheng Ge's small tent, grim-faced and carrying medicine boxes, quickly cramming the space to overflowing.

Lanterns blazed, shadows shifted, and the air filled with suppressed gasps and urgent whispers.

Cui Ji practically sprinted over, still radiating the cold, murderous aura of the war council.

When he pushed through the crowd and saw Cheng Ge's lifeless form on the couch, he stumbled before catching himself.

There was barely room to stand, the tent thick with the smell of medicine and panic.

Lin Nanshu stood frozen nearby, his face as pale as Cheng Ge's, hands trembling uncontrollably.

The physicians surrounded Cheng Ge, applying needles, forcing medicine, examining—all sweating, their expressions growing grimmer.

Suddenly, an elderly physician shot upright: "It's hopeless! His pulse is nearly gone, qi and blood are surging against the heart meridian... I fear... he can't be saved!"

Cui Ji grabbed the physician's arm, eyes bloodshot. "No matter what! You have to save him!"

The physician, shaken by his terrifying demeanor, trembled and sweated profusely: "General! It's not that we aren't trying! It's just... beyond us!"

In his panic, he grabbed a few slices of ginseng, pried open Cheng Ge's jaw, and shoved them in to keep him alive.

"General, you should send for a capable healer at once... maybe... there's still a faint glimmer of hope!"

The moment he finished speaking—

"Move aside!" A cold, almost hoarse voice suddenly exploded!

The crowd was roughly shoved aside as Yun Xunyu barged in.

His hair was slightly disheveled, his plain robe dusted with dirt—he'd clearly come in a hurry.

His face was taut as if frosted over, a terrifying storm churning in his eyes.

He charged to the couch, shoved aside the robes in his way, and half-lifted Cheng Ge upright.

Then he quickly pulled a palm-sized black wooden box from Cheng Ge's chest and opened it to reveal several blood-red pills.

He pried open Cheng Ge's jaw and, without hesitation, shoved all the pills in.

After a moment, the alarming pallor on Cheng Ge's face began to fade.

Though still grim, the deathly aura between his brows seemed forced back, and his breathing, which had nearly stopped, lengthened slightly.

Yun Xunyu didn't set Cheng Ge down but kept him half-supported in his arms.

One hand cradled Cheng Ge's neck and shoulders while the other tapped acupoints on his back.

His gaze dropped, fixed on Cheng Ge's closed lashes and colorless lips.

That look was as complex as the sea before a storm—calm on the surface, with unfathomable undercurrents beneath.

Everyone held their breath, eyes darting between Yun Xunyu and Cheng Ge in his arms.

The physicians exchanged glances, not daring to move or speak.

Finally, Yun Xunyu slowly raised his head. "Get out. Leave him to me."

Cui Ji's pupils constricted, and he almost moved forward, but Lin Nanshu stopped him.

He met Cui Ji's bloodshot eyes and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.

"General," he said in a low, rapid voice, each word clear, reaching only Cui Ji's ears amid the chaos, "let him do it..."

Cheng Ge had suffered a dangerous episode in Nanling before, and though Cui Ji hadn't known the details then, he'd gathered it was closely tied to Yun Xunyu.

His gaze swept quickly over Yun Xunyu, who was carefully holding Cheng Ge.

With the physicians at a loss and no time to find someone else, this was the only option.

Cui Ji's chest heaved as he stared at Yun Xunyu and Cheng Ge in his arms.

Time slipped by in a silent tug-of-war.

Cheng Ge's face stayed pale in the faint candlelight, as if he might sink back into the boundless darkness at any moment.

"Everyone..." His voice was hoarse, yet carried the last shred of a commander's authority. "Everyone out! Nobody comes near without my order!"

The military physicians and personal guards, who'd been itching to get out of there, scrambled out at the order.

The tent suddenly felt a lot bigger, leaving behind nothing but the choking smell of medicine and a thick, heavy mood.

Cui Ji shot Cheng Ge a look, then filed out of the tent with Lin Nanshu.

Outside, time crawled by, every second feeling like being fried in boiling oil.

Cui Ji stood in the biting wind, his eyes glued to the tent flap that didn't so much as twitch, as if he could make his stare solid, bore through the heavy felt, and see what was going on in there.

Lin Nanshu stood nearby, face grim, fingers working the edge of his sleeve over and over, giving away his nerves.

The wind howled, and the night watch drums kept pounding on and on.

But inside the tent, it was dead quiet—not a single sound.

As if the people inside, and time itself, had been frozen mid-moment.

That kind of silence, thick with the unknown, was worse than any noise.

It was like an invisible hand slowly closing around Cui Ji's heart, crushing the last of his air and sanity.

Finally, after who knows how many rounds of drums, when the eastern sky was just starting to go gray, the thread of "waiting" inside Cui Ji finally snapped.

He surged forward, throwing all orders and caution to the wind, and ripped open the heavy tent flap!

The scene inside slammed into his eyes—and Lin Nanshu's, right behind him.

The charcoal fire was nearly out, just a dull red glow left, the tent dim.

In the corner by the couch, Yun Xunyu had his back to the tent entrance, body angled slightly, cradling Cheng Ge in his arms like he was shielding him.

He still had on that dust-streaked plain robe, dark hair loose and spilling over his shoulders, nearly blending into the black cloak wrapped around Cheng Ge.

Cheng Ge, in his arms, showed only half a pale profile, still looking asleep.

But the deadly dark cast between his brows had mostly faded. His breathing was still weak, but steadier and deeper now, his chest rising and falling softly.

The two lay tangled together, quiet, like animals sharing warmth in the snow.

One of Yun Xunyu's hands lay loosely over Cheng Ge's back, right where his heart was, fingers slightly curled, as if, even asleep or out cold, he kept up a guarding pose by instinct.

The tent smelled faintly of some strange medicine, mixed with blood and sweat, and a weird, heavy stillness—the kind of exhausted quiet after a crisis.

No chaos, no noise—just this dim, cramped space and their almost frozen embrace.

...

The northern border was having a rare, beautiful day.

In a wind-sheltered clearing at the edge of camp, a simple bonfire crackled, and the air smelled of roasting meat.

Cheng Ge was bundled up tight, only a bit of his face showing, flushed from the fire's heat.

He held a little dish of chili powder he'd specially asked for.

Lin Nanshu handed him a plate of roasted venison. "Give it a try..."

Cheng Ge grabbed it, picked up a piece, dunked it thick in the chili powder, and popped it in his mouth.

The juices and chili heat exploded in his mouth, making him hiss and mumble, "So good!"

Off to the side, Cui Ji sat silent on a rock a bit farther off, dagger in hand, methodically cutting strips off a raw deer leg.

He moved slow, but his eyes kept drifting to Cheng Ge's contented face.

Just then, a clear whoosh of wings cut through the air overhead.

Everyone instinctively looked up.

A gray falcon circled overhead a few times, letting out sharp cries.

Then it beat its wings and shot south, shrinking to a speck and disappearing.

Cheng Ge craned his neck, watching until the falcon was gone, then went back to his chili powder and meat.

But the moment he looked down, he heard soft footsteps behind him.

Cheng Ge turned on instinct. The sun was still bright, and he squinted.

Then he saw Yun Xunyu, standing just a few steps away, having appeared out of nowhere.

He was wearing a bright red cloak now. The color burned like fire, almost blinding against the clean snow and dead yellow grass.

The cloak swallowed him whole, leaving only his eyes—warm, with a hint of a smile—peeking out from under the hood.

Cheng Ge wasn't all that surprised. He had a feeling this guy might've saved his sorry life.

Cheng Ge, in a rare show of goodwill, scooted over and made room on the fur-covered stone.

On the other side of the fire, Cui Ji and Lin Nanshu's eyes had already locked onto that sudden splash of "red."

Cui Ji's grip on the dagger tightened almost imperceptibly, his eyes dark, but in the end he just looked and said nothing.

Lin Nanshu pulled his hand back from the venison, wiped it on a cloth, his elegant face giving nothing away—though his eyes did linger on that flashy red cloak for a second.

Cheng Ge seemed totally oblivious to the other two's looks.

He held up the steaming plate of venison and, in a rare act of generosity, offered it to Yun Xunyu:

"Want some? It's roasted pretty well, just a bit hot."

Yun Xunyu had been watching Cheng Ge's face the whole time. Seeing the meat offered, his brows curved and his eyes lit up.

He shook his head gently, his voice softer than usual:

"Dear, you eat. I'll just watch. I've... already eaten."

Cheng Ge didn't push it. He just went "oh" and pulled the plate back, getting right back to his food.

Yun Xunyu then sat down in the spot Cheng Ge had cleared for him.

There was a decent gap between them, but as he sat, he leaned just a little toward Cheng Ge, subtle as anything.

Cheng Ge was focused on dipping his meat in chili powder when he suddenly felt the presence beside him draw closer. He instinctively turned his head to glance at the other man.

His gaze swept over Yun Xunyu's crimson cloak, then over his smiling, slightly lowered eyelashes, and then... stopped.

He stared at the strand of ink-black hair that had slipped from the hood's edge and draped over Yun Xunyu's shoulder, near his ear.

Cheng Ge's brow furrowed, barely noticeable.

Without much thought, he reached out and pinched that strand of hair between his fingers.

He rubbed it between his fingertips, found one of the white hairs in the strand, and then—"snap."

A faint sound of a strand breaking.

Cheng Ge moved cleanly and decisively. He yanked the white hair out from the root, held it up between his fingers to inspect it.

"What's with the white hair? You're slipping, huh..." He flicked it into the dancing flames before him, as if it were nothing.

The tiny speck of white was instantly swallowed by the orange-red flames, becoming a wisp of smoke so faint it was almost invisible.

Yun Xunyu stiffened almost imperceptibly.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze first landing on Cheng Ge's fingers, which he hadn't yet pulled back.

Then he shifted his attention to where his hair had just been touched, and teased, smiling casually:

"What you think about by day, you dream about at night. My dear, since you've been apart from me so long, you must be pining away—that's what turned my hair white..."

Cheng Ge stopped chewing for a moment at those words.

He looked up, shot Yun Xunyu a glance, then silently raised a single, perfectly straight middle finger.

With his mouth still full of venison, Cheng Ge's eyes drifted toward Cui Ji, who sat a short distance away, and he asked in a seemingly casual tone:

"I hear the Northern Di are... thinking about calling a truce with us?"

Cui Ji paused mid-cut, his hand hovering over the meat. He raised his eyes and met Cheng Ge's gaze.

He nodded, his tone flat and steady, with his usual calm: "Mm. Hutuke's dead, and the tribes have elected Wuliji as the new Khan.

This man favors peace over war and has no interest in stirring up border trouble. A few days ago, an envoy delivered a peace proposal to the border post, and I've already sent it to the capital by fast horse.

However, diplomatic relations between two nations concern the fate of the state—they cannot be settled by a single document.

The specific terms will require repeated negotiations between the imperial court and the Northern Di delegation. This is not something that can be resolved overnight."

Cheng Ge let out an "Oh" to show he understood.

A truce was no small matter—the intricacies, the jockeying for interests involved were extremely complicated.

Those civil officials in the court would probably be arguing over it for quite a while.

He didn't ask further and refocused on the venison before him.