The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 18

Wei San was utterly confused, but before he could ask, Wei Zheng had already removed his outer robe and sat on the edge of the bed. Seeing that Wei San was still dazed, he patted the bed and said, “What are you still standing there for? The night is deep; it is time to rest.”

“But this subordinate…” The place I should be sleeping is the side room.

As Wei San’s gaze shifted toward the direction of the side room, he heard Wei Zheng say indifferently, “I don’t sleep soundly alone. Keep me company, and perhaps I will sleep better.”

Only then did Wei San remember that Wei Zheng had mentioned suffering from nightmares throughout the night. He immediately felt a pang of heartache, completely forgetting his earlier decision to maintain distance from Wei Zheng in private. Obediently, he became the “bed-warming pillow” held in Wei Zheng’s arms.

Wei Zheng, as always, liked to coil his entire body around him, as if he truly only viewed him as a large, bed-warming cushion.

Resting his chin on the crown of the Death Soldier’s head, Wei Zheng squinted his eyes in satisfaction.

“Alright, sleep.”

Wei San murmured a muffled acknowledgment. The heat of their skin pressed together made him feel dizzy, as if that patch of skin had been ignited.

Sharing a bed with his master was not the first time, but although Wei San was still cautious, he was no longer as tense as he had been at the beginning. It was a pity that he still suffered from insomnia.

He vaguely realized that his master’s attitude toward him seemed exceptionally different a bit too generous. He really couldn’t fathom what exactly his master saw in him that made him hold him in such high regard.

Could it be because of my face?

Wei San froze, suddenly remembering that his master was very fond of beauties, especially those who were pretty and obedient.

Wei San had always known he was good-looking; the other Death Soldiers in the camp often teased him, saying that if he were a woman, they would certainly marry him home. He had never taken those jokes seriously, but thinking of them now, it actually seemed reasonable.

His master must be exceptionally tolerant toward him because of his face.

Feeling that he had grasped the key, Wei San set his heart at ease and fell asleep until dawn.

This time, Wei San still consciously served his master during his morning wash, but since Wei Zheng still needed to feign illness, they skipped the step of changing clothes and binding his hair.

Thinking that Wei Zheng would continue to pretend to be in a coma, Wei San finished putting away the basin and habitually went to decoct medicine. However, as soon as he turned around, Wei Zheng called him to a halt.

“There is no need to decoct medicine today.”

“After being in a coma for several days, Prince Xian should be awake.”

Wei San was confused at first, but after a moment’s thought, he understood the implication.

His master had endured and planned for so long; it seemed he was finally beginning to close the net.

His nerves tightened, and he felt his blood boil. He wished he could immediately return to the Death Soldier camp to take on more missions to help alleviate his master’s burdens.

Full of enthusiasm, he gazed at Wei Zheng with anticipation, waiting for orders. Instead, he saw Wei Zheng open a drawer of the vanity table, take out a box of pearl powder, and beckon to him: “Come here, help me apply some makeup.”

Wei San was stunned, acting at a loss as he said, “But this subordinate… I don’t know how.”

That was something only women used; how would he, a grown man, know how to apply it? Even last time, while lurking in a flower house, it was Wei Jiu who had applied his makeup.

Wei Zheng, however, said indifferently, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t know. Make my face look paler; the more haggard and weak I look, the better.”

“Only then can I coax my good father the Emperor to feel sorry for me, right?”

This time, Wei San understood. After all the circling, it was still to put on a show for the old Emperor.

Seeing him motionless for a long time, Wei Zheng raised the box in his hand, eyebrows arched in anticipation: “It is already broad daylight, move quickly.”

Wei San placed the basin on the rack and accepted the powder box with a serious expression.

Wei Zheng lifted his chin slightly, waiting for the application, feeling quite expectant. He was thinking about how to tease the Death Soldier nonchalantly, but instead, he saw the Death Soldier carry the powder box to the window, prop open the frame, and call out toward the outside for Wei Jiu.

Before Wei Zheng could stop him, a dark figure hung upside down from outside the window.

“Third Brother, did you call me?”

Wei Jiu blinked with confused eyes, wanting to flip into the room as he spoke, but he immediately locked eyes with his master’s icy, murderous gaze.

He felt a chill run down his spine; his toes slipped from the window ledge, and with a thud, he fell face-first to the floor.

Wei Jiu clutched his bruised nose. Before he could even complain, he heard Wei San righteously reprimanding him: “Wei Jiu, your martial arts have regressed. Have you been slacking off and neglecting your training lately?”

Wei Jiu, more wronged than Dou E, thought: …

With the master’s eyes which were practically piercing through me for interrupting his fun—even if my martial arts were higher, I would still have fallen.

Unable to argue, Wei Jiu could only suppress his frustration and nod in default. He changed the subject: “Third Brother still hasn’t said why you were looking for me.”

Wei San was no longer concerned with whether he had been slacking off, instead urging: “Hurry inside and help the master apply some pearl powder.”

Wei Jiu: “???”

He stole several glances at the sullen-faced Wei Zheng, his eyes filled with confusion.

The master… applying pearl powder?

He understood every word individually, so why did they make no sense when put together?

Perhaps impatient with his slow movements, Wei San grabbed him by the collar and hauled him upward, dragging the sturdy young man directly into the bedroom.

Inside, Wei Jiu felt extremely awkward, holding the pearl powder box he’d been forced to take as if it were a scorching hot iron.

Wei Zheng sat in the chair, lips pursed, saying nothing. He was sulking; even the thick-headed Wei Jiu could see he was in a bad mood. Yet the culprit, Wei San, was obliviously urging: “Hurry up, in another quarter of an hour, the Emperor will arrive.”

Wei Jiu and Wei Zheng simultaneously wore a look of helplessness, wanting to say something but stopping themselves.

“Master, look…”

Wei Jiu truly dared not touch the master’s face, holding the powder box awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Wei Zheng grabbed the powder box from his hand in a bad mood. “Forget it, I will do it myself.”

Unwilling to lose his temper at Wei San, he could only secretly resent him for being a blockhead, wasting such a good opportunity to cultivate their relationship.

Thinking it over, he felt unwilling to let it go. He secretly gnashed his teeth and shot Wei San a look, keeping a mental account in his heart, just waiting to find an opportunity in the future to collect the debt from him one by one.

Wei San finally realized belatedly that he seemed to have angered his master just now. However, he couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong and cast a look of inquiry toward Wei Jiu for help. The latter, however, looked at his nose and heart, pretending not to understand.

Seeing their interaction after applying the powder, Wei Zheng became even more irritated.

How bold, flirting with another Death Soldier right in front of me, completely disregarding me as their master.

He spitefully tossed the powder box back into the drawer and said in a stiff tone, “You may leave; the Emperor should be here.”

His words were directed at Wei Jiu, but Wei San assumed he was being dismissed as well. He gave a respectful salute and turned to leave with Wei Jiu.

Wei Zheng instinctively frowned, wanting to grab him back, but just then, the shrill voice of Zhao Fu was heard chanting outside the courtyard.

Wei Zheng gave the two a signal, then quickly lay back on the bed, coughing feebly while clutching his chest, appearing weak and unable to move.

With the main door blocked, Wei Jiu could only flip out the window again.

Wei San, of course, could not leave through the window. He pondered for a moment, rubbed his eyes until they were red, pinched the soft flesh on the inside of his thigh to force out two tears, and then leaned over the bedside, biting his lower lip with an expression of tangled worry and anxiety.

The beauty looked as if he were about to weep, holding back words, and even the most cold-hearted person would be softened by those misty eyes.

Wei Zheng knew he was acting, yet he still instinctively wanted to pull him into his arms to comfort him. Just as he reached out, the door was pushed open, and the weary-looking old Emperor stepped inside.

The old Emperor’s first sight was the affectionate scene between the two. He was stunned for a moment, then moved by the joy of his son waking up.

“My son has finally woken up!”

He walked over quickly, nudging Wei San aside, and sat on the edge of the bed to examine Wei Zheng carefully. Seeing his haggard, pale face, he immediately felt a pang of heartache.

He held Wei Zheng’s hand and sighed with genuine emotion: “Seventh, you have suffered. You look so ill and thin. Later, I will have Imperial Physician Liu prescribe some restorative tonics to build up your health; do not let any lingering illness remain.”

Wei Zheng suppressed the urge to pull his hand back and said in a thread-like voice, “Thank you for your concern, Father Emperor. It is this son’s lack of filial piety that has caused you to worry.”

Although his speech was extremely weak, his words were clear and logical, his attitude humble and composed; even while severely ill, he could not hide the bearing of a refined gentleman.

An unruly fool would certainly not possess such a manner or tone. The old Emperor had lived for decades and was already a seasoned old fox; he immediately sensed the anomaly.

He glanced at Wei San on the side: “You withdraw first; I wish to have a heart-to-heart talk with Seventh.”

Wei San looked at Wei Zheng with concern. The latter returned a “stay calm” look, and only then did he feel relieved to withdraw.

As Wei San left, the bedroom door was closed again, leaving only the old Emperor and the Wei Zheng lying on the couch in the room.

The old Emperor stood up, his hands behind his back, pacing slowly. He did not speak first, and Wei Zheng kept his eyes half-lowered, saying nothing, only coughing heavily from time to time and then suppressing it.

“Seventh, has your old illness recovered?”

The joy on the old Emperor’s face faded slightly. Originally, it was only a guess, but when Wei Zheng looked at him directly without offering any explanation, he already had the answer in his heart.

Seventh waking up at this moment is not a good thing…

He twirled the jade ring on his thumb, his eyes dark and inscrutable.

Wei Zheng sneered inwardly; he had long expected this reaction from the old Emperor.

When Prince Xian was a fool, the Emperor would not be stingy with his pampering toward a foolish prince. But if this foolish prince was no longer a fool and posed a threat to his throne, turning his back on him would be a matter of seconds.

He understood the old Emperor too well. If he wanted to lower the old Emperor’s guard, he had to show weakness.

Wei Zheng secretly channeled his internal energy, forcing himself to spit out a mouthful of blood. He smiled miserably, asking the old Emperor with a mix of sadness and caution: “Is it that this son has done something wrong to displease Father Emperor?”

The old Emperor, who had been weighing and suspecting, ultimately could not resist reaching out to support the swaying man, saying with an unreadable expression: “You have done nothing wrong.”