The General Was Pregnant with the Emperor's Child - Chapter 8

Regrettably, they had failed to capture the leader of the newly arrived enemy tribe. Ye Wuyou rested his gleaming, red-tasseled spear across his shoulder. His horse, Chasing Wind, looked just as dejected, its head drooping in shared disappointment; the new Khan had simply fled too quickly.

The arrow Ye Wuyou had fired before his charge hadn’t just pierced the skull of the lead officer; it had shattered the enemy’s psychological defenses. Simply sitting atop his horse, Ye Wuyou had intimidated the barbarians into submission.

Tonight, Ye Wuyou had given the new northern tribe leader a masterclass in the strategy of “inviting the tiger into the pit.”

Barbarians were raised in the saddle. They were expert riders, masters of guerrilla warfare, and notoriously lacked any sense of chivalry, they would plunder and vanish in an instant. This slippery, eel-like behavior had caused even Ye Wuyou to suffer several setbacks in the past.

Spring was drawing to a close, and the grass along the West River was already taller than a horse’s head. Rather than waiting for the barbarians to fatten their horses over the summer and launch a surprise raid in autumn, he decided to lure them deep into his territory and present this new Khan with a “grand gift” from the Central Plains.

Ye Wuyou had been setting this trap since the day he submitted his resignation. As he and Yang Nin traveled, they deliberately leaked information to barbarian scouts. Midway through the journey, he even intentionally exposed his whereabouts several times, ensuring the spies were convinced of the false intelligence.

Once trust was established, the rest was easy. For the final leg of the journey, Ye Wuyou threw out a smoke screen, claiming he would arrive at the camp two days later than he actually did.

The northern tribes had fallen into chaos again last autumn, and a new tribe had emerged as a dominant force. Ye Wuyou had heard rumors before returning to the capital, and Xiao Yunan had provided him with even more detailed intelligence during their palace audience.

Luren, the leader of this rising tribe, had failed in a power struggle against Khan Mo’is and fled. To re-establish his prestige on the plains, delivering a heavy blow to the Ye Army while the General was away in the capital was the fastest shortcut.

Unfortunately, the new Khan had picked the wrong target. If Ye Wuyou dared to leave the frontier and accept the Emperor’s “ridiculous” decree to recuperate in the capital, it was because he had absolute confidence in the army he left behind. The soldiers he personally trained were no soft targets.

Ye Wuyou could beat Mo’is into submission; he could play Luren like a fiddle just as easily.

To make the enemy believe a lie, one must first deceive one’s own people. The information Ye Wuyou “leaked” to the barbarians matched the reports he sent to his own camp: that he would arrive on the 17th of April. When he suddenly appeared at the camp on the morning of the 15th, even his own soldiers were startled.

The moment he left the doctor’s tent; he ordered all troops to prepare for a night raid. The “breach” at the West Camp was a hole he had opened on purpose.

The barbarians typically used wolf packs to scout. Since they believed Ye Wuyou wouldn’t arrive until the 17th, Luren was bound to strike on either the 15th or 16th. Only during a full moon could the combat power of wild wolves be pushed to its limit.

Yang Nin had volunteered to stay at the West Camp, and Ye Wuyou had allowed it. As it turned out, under Yang Nin’s command, the “wolves” brought by the enemy reached their peak effectiveness against the barbarians themselves.

Ye Wuyou knew Yang Nin understood the language of wolves, but he hadn’t realized he was so skilled at commanding them. The pack that had surrounded the camp turned around the moment Yang Nin approached, tearing into the barbarians instead.

Luren fled in disgrace. A cornered enemy wasn’t worth a reckless pursuit, so Ye Wuyou recalled his troops. However, the “Wolf King” who had snatched Vice General Yang refused to leave. It lingered by Yang Nin’s side, wagging its tail with a persistence that Ye Wuyou found quite impressive.

Because the Wolf King wouldn’t leave, the pack stayed too. Seeing more and more glowing green eyes appearing around the camp, Ye Wuyou sat stiffly on his horse. Disturbed by the rising chorus of howls, he stayed a good ten meters away from Yang Nin, looking utterly weary of life.

The great General Ye, feared by barbarians as an “Azure Wolf,” was actually afraid of dogs—and a little bit afraid of wolves. Just a little.

Yang Nin couldn’t stop petting the Wolf King. “Ye Mian, he wants to come back to camp with me”

Ye Wuyou blurted out: “Don’t even think about it!”

Feeling he might be being too heartless, he added gloomily, “You aren’t allowed to bring a wolf pack into the camp. You can go stay in the wolf den yourself if you like. I’ll grant you a week’s leave…”

Hearing this, Yang Nin left the returning ranks without hesitation. He skillfully dumped his armor onto Ye Wuyou’s horse and ran joyfully toward the wolves.

“The Vice General is?” a soldier asked.

Ye Wuyou replied coldly, “Going home.”

He truly couldn’t understand what was so appealing about a wolf den.

Finally able to retreat to his own command tent, Ye Wuyou immediately climbed into a bath. He was desperate to wash away the filth and blood.

Marking is such a hassle, he thought. He had only just begun to appreciate its benefits before he started resenting it again. He thought he had conquered the instinctual longing an Omega feels for their Alpha, but the moment he was on the battlefield surrounded by hundreds of enemies, he realized he missed Xiao Yunan more than ever. He wanted to smell the Emperor’s scent, to be held in his arms, to

Ye Wuyou submerged half his face under the water. He lamented that he was becoming more like a “proper” Omega every day so fragile that even the scent of blood made him feel nauseous.

The hot water washed away the fatigue of the long journey and the battle. Ye Wuyou rested his right arm on the edge of the tub. The scrap of fabric from Xiao Yunan’s robe was still tied there, though the scent had almost entirely vanished. Even with his face pressed against his wrist, he could barely detect the green bamboo fragrance he craved.

His long legs shifted restlessly under the water. He leaned his head against his arm and reached down with his left hand.

Another splash of hot water hit his body. Beads of crystalline water slid down his steam-reddened neck, disappearing into his waist.

Your Majesty

Ripples spread across the surface as the water below grew turbulent. Ye Wuyou closed his eyes, exhaling a scorching breath.

By the time the bathwater was cleared, the sky had begun to brighten.

Ye Wuyou sat slumped at his desk, biting the end of his brush with a worried expression. His damp, dark hair clung to his waist, leaving wet patches on his thin inner robe.

He had already finished the formal report describing the enemy raid, but he wanted to write something more personal to the Emperor.

He took a fresh sheet of paper and wrote: “Asking after His Majesty’s health.” Then, his brush stalled. He had much to say, but the most pressing issue was how to reasonably ask the Emperor for a few pieces of his personal clothing.

Ideally, unwashed ones with a heavy scent.

Asking directly felt wrong. Though he often pushed the Emperor’s boundaries, asking for his clothes felt a bit like a degenerate. Having already “sampled” the Emperor’s Alpha essence so thoroughly, asking for more made him feel guilty.

What if the Emperor sensed something was wrong?

Wait What if the Emperor sensed something was wrong?!

A spark of inspiration hit him, and he suddenly felt a surge of energy. He shifted his aching waist and began writing rapidly.

[Your Majesty, this subject has arrived at the frontier. Before I could even catch my breath, we were raided. The barbarians even used wolves to scare people! But please be at ease, Sire; my health is fine, and the enemy has been repelled. It’s just that I find it hard to sleep alone each night. I think of you constantly and haven’t had a single night of peaceful rest. I wonder if you miss me (You do! You do! You definitely do!!!)]

Ye Wuyou finished the bracketed emphasis and dipped his brush in fresh ink.

[I wonder if Your Majesty is eating well in my absence? Is Eunuch Gao serving you comfortably? I recently dreamed that you had grown thin; remember to eat a few more bites when dinner is served. Fine, the truth is that I am a bit greedy. If Your Majesty has the time, you could send an imperial chef to me.]

Feeling the groundwork was sufficiently laid, he made a bold stroke.

[Summer is coming, and the weather at the frontier is turning cold. Your Majesty should remember to add more layers. I left in such a hurry that I forgot several of my inner robes at the Manor. Without them, the cold armor rubs directly against my skin, which I feel is a bit disrespectful to the soldiers. Since Your Majesty and I are of similar build, I wonder if you could bestow a few inner robes upon me. Those you have already worn would be best. This subject would be eternally grateful!]

Tsk. Asking directly is much easier! There’s no need for politeness between us!

Guilt? Non-existent! Ye Wuyou was already plotting how to “sample” the Emperor a second time.

The doctor said the Emperor was “nourishing.”

Thinking his hints might be too subtle, Ye Wuyou added several more lines about how much he missed him before finally setting down the brush with satisfaction. He sealed the formal report and the private letter together in a secret missive to the capital.

The report Ye Wuyou sent back was notably thicker than usual. The envelope was marked with the words “To be opened personally by His Majesty,” as if he were terrified anyone else might see the contents.

Xiao Yunan pulled out the letter. He didn’t see a military report; instead, he was met with a full page of Ye Wuyou’s “romantic sentiments” that made his head spin.

“Ye Mian is truly becoming more and more audacious,” Xiao Yunan muttered, but the smile on his face reached the corners of his eyes.

Gao Su peeked curiously at the letter partially covered by the official report and smiled along with the Emperor. “General Ye has always been so straightforward with Your Majesty. Please have some tea to appease your ‘anger,’ Sire.”

Xiao Yunan glanced at Gao Su and took a sip of the tea. “Ye has always been thus.”

Gao Su could tell the Emperor was in an excellent mood.

Xiao Yunan: “Grind the ink for me.”

Gao Su: “Yes, Sire.”

With the first victory since his coronation secured, the clouds of frustration regarding the flower-thief dissipated significantly. He took up his brush to write a letter of commendation to the frontier soldiers.

Thinking of Ye Wuyou’s private note, Xiao Yunan’s brush paused. He looked at Gao Su. “In all these years, he has never asked me for anything. How can my General have no clothes to wear? Go to my bedchamber and pick out a few robes for Ye Mian. Pack up an imperial chef as well and send them both to the frontier.”

Gao Su drifted out the door in a daze, wondering how on earth one was supposed to “pack up” a living imperial chef.

He understood General Ye less and less every day. Asking for clothes was one thing, but how could he ask the Emperor for another human being?

Sending a chef to the General, isn’t that just exiling the poor man? How ridiculous!