HCAW 71

Chapter 71: Cocooned in One’s Own Trap

When Chu Kuang awoke, the sky was already black as ink.

His head throbbed like it was about to split open. It felt as though he were on the verge of remembering something, his mind flashing with images he had never seen before.

But his neck hurt even more. He reached up and touched it—there was a burning handprint still there. At that moment, he remembered: it was Fang Jingyu who had throttled him unconscious. Fury surged through him. He tried to get out of bed, only to find his wrists shackled in iron chains.

“Damn his mother!” Chu Kuang exploded with rage, but his body was too weak. He couldn’t break free, so he resorted to biting at the chains with his teeth.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before Fang Jingyu came into the cabin. The moment he stepped in, he saw Chu Kuang gnawing madly at the iron chains, blood trickling from his mouth and wrists. He rushed over and pinned him down. “What are you doing?”

At the sight of him, Chu Kuang let loose a string of curses. “You damned cur! Let me go already!”

Fang Jingyu hadn’t expected Chu Kuang to wake so quickly. He had planned to act quietly, but now he had no choice but to say a few more words. He didn’t unshackle the chains. Instead, he placed a wooden bow and a set of Jin Pugu arrows on a crescent-shaped table far from the bed and said:

“I thought it over and decided to leave these with you. In a few days, I’ll go see the Yu Ji Guard. You stay here and recuperate. When the time comes, the Mule will come to release you. Then you can leave Yingzhou with Deli and Xiao Jiao. Take care of yourself from here on.”

“That’s… Jin Pugu arrows? How did you get your hands on those?” Chu Kuang’s eyes widened as they landed on the arrows. He was clearly stunned. But even more pressing was something else Fang Jingyu had said. He started to thrash, eyes burning. “You damn parasite, if you’re so eager to die, why didn’t you just strangle yourself with the umbilical cord in the womb?”

He struggled so fiercely the bed nearly collapsed. Fang Jingyu came over and pressed him down hard. It didn’t take long before pain from his injuries flared, and Chu Kuang’s resistance waned. His mismatched eyes—one black, one double-pupiled—glistened like obsidian, confused and pitiful.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” Chu Kuang’s voice trembled, his teeth clenched tight. “We’ve made it all the way to Yingzhou. You think I’d harm you now? You know strategy. At this point, even if we have to sacrifice a rook, we must protect the king. Just one order from you, and they’d all lay down their lives for you. If you die here, we lose everything.”

“I don’t see it that way. I was never the king. Just a soldier who charged alongside you.” Fang Jingyu lowered his gaze. “Four days from now, I’ll go to Qingyu Gao Palace and take the lead.”

“You’re brave but reckless!”

“And you’re a coward.”

“Then what trump card do you have?”

Fang Jingyu turned away. “No trump card. I’m only trying to rally the Yingzhou rebels—to spur them to fight one more time with everything they’ve got. A commander shouldn’t cower behind the lines. Even if you keep me alive here and smuggle me out of Yingzhou, how could a ruler like that ever win the people’s loyalty? Besides, I do have one backup plan.”

He pulled out a flint pouch filled with meat slices given by the Da Yuan Dao leader. The original pigskin sack was too heavy to carry, so he had taken some and packed them separately. At the sight of those meat slices, Chu Kuang’s expression changed at once. He started thrashing like a madman.

“You slick bastard! You dare use that stuff?!”

“You’ve used it a few times already. Why wouldn’t I dare? Sure, it’s dangerous and might kill you—but if it sharpens my skills enough to kill the Yu Ji Guard, then it’s worth the risk.”

Chu Kuang flew into a rage and attacked him, but Fang Jingyu easily blocked every blow. After a scuffle, Chu Kuang fell silent, lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling of the cabin, looking as fragile as shattered porcelain. Fang Jingyu was about to leave when he saw Chu Kuang reach out—not to hit him, but to wrap his arms around his neck.

“Don’t go,” Chu Kuang pleaded softly.

“I’ve got a heart of stone. No matter how you beg, it’s useless.”

“Heart of stone? More like a stiff-tongued liar. Just a few days ago you said you wouldn’t leave. Now you’re going back on your word.”

Fang Jingyu turned away, knowing he’d handled this badly—but he still retorted stubbornly, “Things have changed.”

“You lied to me. You deserve punishment.”

“What punishment?”

Chu Kuang gave a bitter smile. “Punishment by kiss.”

Suddenly, his arms tightened around Fang Jingyu—not with force, but enough to catch him off guard and pull him down. Chu Kuang leaned in and pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Fang Jingyu’s face didn’t change, but inside, it felt like a bellows had lit a roaring blaze. His mind was scorched into uselessness, frozen in place. Chu Kuang pushed further, his tongue a nimble key spring, easily parting Fang Jingyu’s lips to tangle with his.

Fang Jingyu’s eyes stayed open, just in time to see Chu Kuang’s long lashes cast a fine shadow across his face. His features were like a masterpiece—elegant with a hint of fierceness. And his expression was eerily similar to that of the elder brother who once lulled him to sleep.

The thought made Fang Jingyu uneasy. If this person in his arms were Fang Minsheng, then he’d have crossed a forbidden line. But how could Chu Kuang possibly be his brother? Caught in the swirl of confusion, he was suddenly pulled closer. Their mouths fused, breath and saliva mingling, and both their hearts trembled in disarray.

Chu Kuang’s hand slid up his neck, fingers brushing like fire. Fang Jingyu jolted—there was a pressure point there that could render someone unconscious with one strike. That was how he’d subdued Chu Kuang before. Now this bastard was using the same move against him! In a flash, he grabbed Chu Kuang’s wrist with one hand and his throat with the other.

Chu Kuang let out a small cry, but before he could fight back, his limbs went limp and he collapsed under Fang Jingyu.

Once he had subdued him using the same method, Fang Jingyu let out a breath of relief. This guy really was like a snake coiling around a plow—slipperier by the day.

But then, looking down at that sleeping face so much like his brother’s, a surge of tenderness welled up despite himself. Fang Jingyu sighed, laid him down, and covered him with the quilt.

______

When Chu Kuang woke again, he was fuming.

He was a master of deception, and yet his trick had been seen through by Fang Jingyu. Before he could press the pressure point, Fang Jingyu had acted first! After lying there for a while, the pain in his chest grew so intense he could barely sit up.

The iron chains wouldn’t come loose for now, so he drifted back into a half-sleep, falling into chaotic dreams filled with unfamiliar faces, sweating through every one of them. When Ling’er came in to apply medicine and change the cloth, he was startled to find his eyes suddenly wide open, gasping for breath.

Chu Kuang stared fixedly at the ceiling. “Ling’er, what day is it now?”

Ling’er was startled, not expecting him to be awake already, and replied, “Today is a Bingyin day.”¹ Bingyin day” (丙寅日) is a traditional date term from the Chinese lunar calendar. It marks one specific day in a repeating 60-day cycle, based on ancient combinations of elements and zodiac signs. ²

Chu Kuang did a quick count in his mind. There were still three days until Fang Jingyu left for Qingyu Gao Palace. He said, “I have a favor to ask.”

Formerly, back at the Lei Ze Camp, Chu Kuang had always done as he pleased, as if no one else in the world mattered. So for him to now speak a request aloud delighted Ling’er, who quickly said, “If Ah Chu asks, of course I’ll agree.”

Chu Kuang coldly asked, “Do you want His Highness to go and die?”

Ling’er flinched. After a long pause, he answered meekly, “Of course not.”

But Chu Kuang saw his hesitation and knew there was more to come. Sure enough, Ling’er continued, “But His Highness came to the Lei Ze Camp that day and sparred with each of us in turn. He gave that speech about leading from the front—it got the whole camp fired up. I even heard he fired an arrow carrying a war challenge into Qingyu Gao Palace, and the battle with the Yu Ji Guard has already been set. If he backs out now, it’ll ruin his name and crush everyone’s spirits.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t go. I just want him to delay his departure by a few days.” Chu Kuang lied smoothly, “To tell the truth, my father is a Xian Mountain Guard. He has subordinates I can call upon, but they won’t arrive in Yingzhou for a few days. If we wait for reinforcements and then strike, wouldn’t our chances of victory be even greater?”

“Really?” Ling’er eyed him suspiciously. “Which Xian Mountain Guard?”

Chu Kuang hadn’t expected him to press for details, so he had to think fast. The Mohe Guard was old as dirt, and the Yu Yin Guard had nothing to do with men or romance. Finally, Chu Kuang just spouted nonsense: “Langgan Guard. I really am his son! All I have to do is write him a letter, and he’ll bring one hundred thousand heavenly troops down here!”

Ling’er’s eyes lit up at his nonsense. Chu Kuang added a few more ridiculous lines, reeling him in completely. Then, putting on an innocent expression, he said, “So I want to ask you to do something—find some numbing powder or knockout drug and mix it into His Highness’s medicine. Be careful with the dosage; it should make him sleep for a few days.”

At this, Ling’er hesitated. Chu Kuang held his patience and said, “There’s numbing powder in Zheng Deli’s medicine chest. Just tell him I’m in too much pain from my injuries and asked for it. The smell of the medicine is strong, so it won’t arouse suspicion when mixed into His Highness’s decoction. What are you so scared of? If anything goes wrong, I’ll take all the blame.”

Ling’er reluctantly agreed. After he left, Chu Kuang took a deep breath, gritting his teeth against the pain as he struggled to sit up. On the pinewood cabinet beside the bed sat the pigskin pouch filled with meat slices. Whether left behind in haste or simply because Fang Jingyu thought Chu Kuang wouldn’t dare eat such dangerous stuff again, he hadn’t taken it with him.

So Chu Kuang reached out with great effort, grasping the pouch tightly in his hand.

——

The Lei Ze ship bustled with heat and noise.

The battle with the Yu Ji Guard was imminent, and the chosen vanguard drilled relentlessly. Armor, ballistae, catapults, and ship repairs were all underway. There was also the matter of preparing enough black powder. Some soldiers even took boats away from the ship to mix saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur—lest one misstep blow the whole camp sky-high. Everyone was brimming with rage and zeal. Their rallying cries were things like: “Stab out that old rooster’s eyes!” “Kill—kill!”

Fang Jingyu stood outside the command cabin, watching it all. The battle with the Yu Ji Guard would be tomorrow, and his palms were already slick with sweat. The morale at Lei Ze Camp was soaring, and he no longer had reason to worry. Even Chu Kuang had been oddly quiet these past few days, not causing trouble once.

But the moment he thought of trouble, trouble came. Ling’er came rushing up the wooden stairs to his side and lowered his voice. “Your Highness, something terrible’s happened!”

“What is it?”

“Ah Chu… he’s come down with some strange illness—he’s vomiting blood!”

Fang Jingyu’s whole body jolted. He followed Ling’er at once to Chu Kuang’s cabin.

As soon as he entered, the scene before him made his blood run cold. In just a few short days, Chu Kuang had grown terribly weak. The blanket was dotted with bright red blood.

“Chu Kuang… Chu Kuang!” Fang Jingyu rushed to his side in a panic. But to his surprise, Chu Kuang’s pain didn’t seem fake. His face was deathly pale, and the blood he coughed up was so dark and thick it was alarming.

Sensing Fang Jingyu’s presence, Chu Kuang barely opened his eyes and whispered:

“Jingyu…”

But the next moment, a violent cough burst from his throat. Blood sprayed out like ink, splattering all over Fang Jingyu. Holding him in his arms, Fang Jingyu barked at Ling’er, “Get the doctor! If you see Zheng Deli, bring him too!”

The camp’s physician arrived, but couldn’t find the cause. Zheng Deli, however, noticed something off. After taking Chu Kuang’s pulse, he frowned and said to Fang Jingyu, “It’s the same condition as before, but stranger. His pulse is weaker. The damage is internal… and much worse than last time.”

“He was fine earlier. He had external wounds, sure, but nothing like this. Why did his condition suddenly worsen?”

Zheng Deli muttered, “I don’t know.” But in his heart, he had a wild suspicion—unless Chu Kuang had stuffed himself with those meat slices again, there was no other explanation for how he’d declined so fast. But Chu Kuang had already suffered from them once. Why would he put himself through that again?

What followed was utter chaos. Fang Jingyu followed the prescription—picking honeyed citrus and white ginger, boiling them into a pot of medicine and feeding it to Chu Kuang himself. He wiped his sweat, cleaned his body, ran around like a one-man market stall. Somehow, the wound on Chu Kuang’s chest began to heal—but Fang Jingyu was too busy to notice.

By the time he could finally rest, Fang Jingyu was soaked in sweat. Just then, Ling’er brought him a bowl of medicine. “Your Highness, this is yours.”

“Mine?”

“Weren’t you all scraped up, covered in wounds? This is Physician Zheng’s knife-edge medicine.” Ling’er’s face was pale, his words shaky.

“Knife-edge medicine is for external use, isn’t it?”

“Oral—oral use!” Ling’er’s voice suddenly rose in pitch.

Fang Jingyu picked up the bowl and sniffed it, frowning. “It’s really strong.”

“It’s a… a special secret formula. It’s very potent—Your Highness should rest well after taking it.”

As soon as Fang Jingyu downed the whole bowl and returned the tray to Ling’er’s hands, Ling’er—dripping with sweat—finally sighed in relief.

This was the medicine Chu Kuang had asked him to tamper with. When Ling’er went to sneak into Zheng Deli’s medicine box, he found that the numbing powder had already been used up treating Chu Kuang and Fang Jingyu’s injuries. As for the camp doctors, stealing from them would be suicide.

Then he remembered that the pleasure boats once harbored injured rebels, and the madam might still have something. So he snuck into her quarters. In the medicine cupboard were all the tonics used on those boats: desert ginseng, sea dog bile, lovebind… everything imaginable. Though the packages and bottles weren’t labeled, Ling’er was no stranger to passion play and could identify most things. Eventually, he found a celadon bottle inlaid with gems, and in ugly, squiggly script were the characters: “Numbing Powder .” Relieved, he took it.

After drinking the drug, Fang Jingyu sent Ling’er off, returned to the cabin, and shut the door. He felt a bit dizzy, and what was stranger—there seemed to be a fire kindling in his abdomen, burning up from his pelvis to his core.

Something was wrong. Could it be that medicine? But Ling’er had said it was just strong—maybe this was just one of the side effects. He tried to open the cabin door, but it seemed jammed and wouldn’t budge. Just then, he heard rustling from the bed. Chu Kuang seemed to be waking, breathing painfully.

He hurried over—only to see Chu Kuang writhing in a frenzy, flipping around before suddenly springing up to bite him.

Fang Jingyu reacted quickly and pinned him down. Chu Kuang cursed and flailed, the two of them tumbling across the bed. The fire in Fang Jingyu’s gut grew hotter, his head swimming and body unsteady. Chu Kuang looked mad on the outside, but inside he was sharp—he knew once the drug kicked in, Fang Jingyu would collapse.

But to his horror, not only did Fang Jingyu not collapse—his face was flushed, breath heavy, and when he pinned Chu Kuang down, his body was burning hot, like a branding iron.

Chu Kuang was so shocked his soul nearly fled his body. He couldn’t even keep up the act and cursed furiously in his head:

“Weren’t we supposed to use knockout drug, damn you, Ling’er!”

• 1
• 2