The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 16

Wei Zheng had only been suspicious at first, but his subsequent interactions confirmed his theory.

The Death Soldier would answer only when spoken to, never saying an extra word. He always maintained a distance of at least three steps from him. Let alone trying to take advantage of the situation, Wei Zheng couldn’t even get close to him.

Wei Zheng suppressed his anger, but when Wei San fled the bedroom as if hiding from something—preferring to make do in the side room rather than sleep in the same bed his temper finally erupted.

He was determined to find out exactly why.

It was deep into the night, yet Wei San could not fall asleep, tossing and turning on the bed like a pancake.

It wasn’t that Wei San hadn’t noticed Wei Zheng’s gloomy aura throughout the evening. Being simple-minded, he didn’t think it was about himself; instead, he reflected on whether he had failed to perform a task perfectly, causing his master to be displeased.

The more he thought, the more he felt he hadn’t done anything right. As he lay restless, feeling anxious and self-reproachful, his peripheral vision caught the sight of the bedroom—which had gone dark at some point. He immediately froze, fearing that any movement on his part would disturb his master.

He lay stiffly, staring blankly at the bed canopy.

The deeper the night, the quieter it became. Inside the Prince’s manor, one could not hear the sounds of insects or frogs; only the occasional night breeze brushed against the branches, causing them to rustle.

A dark shadow slipped into the darkness, moving with a clear objective toward the side room. The night breeze effectively masked the sound of his footsteps.

Wei San rose, intending to extinguish the lamp. As his hand touched the lantern cover, his sixth sense, honed by years of martial arts, made him alert instantly.

He observed his surroundings calmly, finding nothing unusual. However, his intuition told him someone was lurking in the shadows. The sensation of being watched—like needles pricking his back—was persistent and impossible to ignore.

This feeling, as if he were being hunted by a beast, was extremely familiar. An image of a person surfaced in his mind: that secret guard who had disguised himself as “Wei Liu” and teased him several times.

“Oh? It seems I’ve already been discovered.”

A figure sat on the windowsill. The candlelight in the room was dim, and the person was shrouded in shadow against the moonlight, making it impossible to read the emotions in his eyes.

Wei San tensed his muscles, his entire body in a state of readiness.

The figure in the dark tilted his head and smiled. “My darling, it’s been a long time. Have you missed me?”

Wei San remained silent. He pulled his hand back from the lantern and a dagger with a faint green glow slid out from his sleeve. As it landed in his palm, he gripped the hilt tightly.

“Get out!”

He lowered his voice, his tone cold, hard, and devoid of emotion.

Wei Zheng lowered his eyes and pursed his lips, frowning with apparent sadness. “It seems my darling hasn’t missed me at all. I, however, have missed you so much that my whole body aches.”

As he spoke, his tone grew increasingly colder. The flippant, rake-like persona disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pressure.

He stepped into the inner room, following the moonlight. His eyes were deep and pitch-black, like an abyss from which one could never escape.

When Wei San as usual resisted his approach while in this persona, Wei Zheng felt a flicker of secret joy. But upon further reflection, he realized that he, as the master, was now also being excluded by his own Death Soldier from the “acceptable to approach” zone. This left him feeling very sour.

Where had things gone wrong? The Death Soldier, who had been tamed into being soft and obedient over these days, had suddenly started avoiding him.

Was it the old Emperor who had secretly spoken to the Death Soldier, or… was it something else?

Wei Zheng suspected not only the old Emperor but even the Crown Prince and Duan Lin. However, he couldn’t be certain, so he decided to provoke the Death Soldier to make him lose his composure, which would make it easier to pry the reason out of him.

“Now that you’ve flown up to the branches and become the Prince’s favorite pet, you’ve pushed me aside and forgotten me entirely. You really are heartless.”

“The Prince can touch you and feel you; he can be intimate with you. Am I really not good enough?”

He knew exactly what to say to enrage Wei San. As expected, as soon as he finished speaking, several toxic needles as thin as ox hair were shot toward his face. Wei Zheng did not dodge; the needles grazed his cheek and embedded themselves into the wooden frame of the windowsill behind him.

The needles were buried entirely, showing what the consequences would have been had they pierced a person’s skull.

“Shut up! Don’t assume everyone is as foul-minded as you! His Highness is of noble character; how could he be compared to someone like you?”

“If you dare to slander my master again, these needles won’t be in the wood they will be in your head!”

Wei San was furious, yet he did not forget to grit his teeth and keep his voice down.

He had spoken harshly; anyone with a shred of self-awareness would have felt ashamed. Yet, instead of being angry, the secret guard let out a scoff. “You defend the Prince so fiercely could it be…”

He paused, deliberating for a moment before continuing, “Could it be that you have feelings for the Prince?”

Even Wei Zheng felt surprised when he asked this question. He realized that, deep down, he had actually been looking forward to the Death Soldier having different feelings for him. He found himself hoping to hear Wei San confirm it straightforwardly or try to evade the question, but unfortunately, neither happened.

The expression on Wei San’s face never changed; clearly, he was not moved by passion as Wei Zheng had hoped.

The Death Soldier looked as if he had suffered a great insult, sternly rebuking him: “As a subordinate, defending one’s master is a duty. Why does a secret guard like you keep slandering my absolute loyalty to my master?”

“Do you really think everyone is as impure of heart as you are?”

The more he spoke, the angrier he became. He felt that the secret guard was not only insulting him but also his master. As a Death Soldier, he lived for his master; his master was everything to him. This was something the commander had emphasized repeatedly since they were young.

Recalling every time he had met this secret guard, the man never seemed to show proper respect toward the master. Wei San couldn’t help but suspect that this guard harbored treasonous thoughts.

In any other situation, Wei San would rather kill a thousand innocents than let one go, but the current situation was not ideal.

He lowered his eyes in thought. Should I lure him outside and launch a surprise attack?

Wei San was truly intending to kill. He masked his murderous intent well, but having spent so long with him, Wei Zheng had long ago mastered all of his little habits. How could he not know what bad idea he was brewing?

Wei Zheng felt both angry and amused. He was dodging him, yet in front of others, he displayed such loyalty. What exactly is in this Death Soldier’s head?

It was inconvenient to do many things in this side room. Wei Zheng, also concerned that Wei San might realize the master’s bedroom was empty, tacitly agreed with the idea of luring him out of the side hall.

He knew Wei San wouldn’t listen obediently, so he used a few underhanded tactics.

A faint, subtle fragrance permeated the room. Anyone with a less sensitive sense of smell wouldn’t have been able to detect it.

Once Wei San realized what it was, he immediately held his breath. Next door was the room where his master was resting. This beast actually had the audacity to use such low-handed tricks right under his master’s nose.

He was both shocked and furious, but out of fear for his master sleeping next door, he dared not act rashly and could only glare indignantly at the secret guard approaching him.

“Soft-Muscle Powder” was very effective on ordinary people, but it wasn’t enough to take down a Death Soldier. Wei Zheng’s intention wasn’t to knock Wei San out instantly; as long as it had twenty percent effectiveness enough to make the Death Soldier’s movements less agile—that would suffice.

Wei San flexed his hands; his movements were indeed not as nimble as before. It was at this moment that Wei Zheng lunged, taking advantage of his delayed reaction to disarm him of his dagger.

The Death Soldier had deadly weapons hidden all over his body, and Wei Zheng didn’t dare to be overconfident. To subdue Wei San, he had to first incapacitate his hands.

Of course, he couldn’t bear to dislocate the Death Soldier’s joints, so he appeared hesitant. Wei San, however, was not one to wait and be captured.

Their martial arts came from the same lineage, but Wei Zheng was inherently more powerful and had studied more deeply. Wei San’s training was focused on lethal killing techniques; in a real fight, he couldn’t win. Coupled with his many concerns, he quickly fell into a disadvantaged position.

“We can count as having shared a bed there should be some affection. You’re trying to kill me just like that? It really is heartbreaking.”

Wei Zheng said he was heartbroken, but the expression in his eyes was one of pure enjoyment.

As his internal energy circulated, the “Soft-Muscle Powder” spread through his body. The initial slight weakness had now increased to fifty percent. The Death Soldier panted heavily, his resistance clearly lacking its former strength.

Wei Zheng took the opportunity to pin Wei San against the table, twisting his hands behind his back and gripping his wrists tightly. The Death Soldier could only turn his head and glare at him, saying unwillingly, “Are you truly not afraid that the master will discover you and wring your dog head off?”

The Death Soldier’s threat did not seem fierce to Wei Zheng; instead, he looked like a cat with its fur standing on end, wanting to scratch someone but unable to because its claws had been trimmed, capable only of intimidating with its gaze.

He had a wicked thought. Under Wei San’s horrified gaze, he freed one hand and reached toward his trousers, hooking the fabric near the waistband. He leaned into his ear and whispered: “I am naturally afraid. But I want to try and see with such unwavering loyalty to the Prince, if he were to discover that you are messing around with someone right under his nose, I wonder what he would think? And I wonder if he would spare you for the sake of your loyalty?”

Wei Zheng was, of course, scaring him, but as he imagined the scene, he felt a sense of anticipation.

The thrill of immorality… would likely make the Death Soldier cry out of shame and despair.

The secret guard seemed to be genuinely considering the feasibility of doing so. The color drained from Wei San’s face instantly. He knew this man was capable of it.

His gaze involuntarily drifted toward the dark bedroom. In a daze, it felt as though he could see his master standing at the door, looking at him with disgust and disdain, calling him filthy and base, an eyesore.

Just imagining it made Wei San feel as though his vision were blacking out, as if the sky were collapsing.

He trembled uncontrollably, feeling a deep, bone-chilling cold.

He stammered in a low, delirious whisper.

“Get… get out… stay away from me…”

Wei Zheng finally realized something was wrong with the Death Soldier. His heart sank. He turned the Death Soldier around and froze when he locked eyes with a pair of peach-blossom eyes wet with mist.

He’s been bullied too hard he’s actually crying?

The Death Soldier’s eyes were rimmed with red, and the tip of his nose was a cute shade of pink. The more Wei Zheng looked at him, the more he liked him. He couldn’t help but pull him into his arms, kissing his wet eyes and teasing him, “Why are you so delicate? I haven’t even done anything yet, I only teased you a bit, and you’ve started crying first.”