The Prairie Wolf Lord's Twice-Married State Preceptor - Chapter 1

When the Emperor arrived at the Nebula Pavilion, Gu Chengyan was leaning against the veranda, gazing at the stars.

The early autumn night was clear as water; a silver waterfall of starlight flowed like frost, and the waning moon was just beginning to rise. He looked at the heavens with such leisure, holding a cup of clear tea, his ink-black hair half-unbound behind his head, his thin, pale-blue cloud robes draped across him as if dusted with the brilliance of the Milky Way.

Watching that side profile from afar, the Emperor paused, masking the longing in his eyes before stepping forward with a composed, smiling expression: “Brother, what are you looking at?”

Hearing this, Gu Chengyan turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him. The moon’s clear radiance perfectly outlined his sharp jawline. He did not bow or offer a salute; he merely chuckled and said, “I am looking at Sirius.”

Gu Chengyan was born beautiful the Emperor had known this since he was seven years old. Now, more than a decade later, he was still struck with awe by that careless smile. Gu Chengyan’s attitude was casual and indifferent, but the Emperor did not take offense; instead, he stepped forward eagerly, wanting to admire the stars side-by-side with his State Preceptor.

However, Gu Chengyan did not grant him that opportunity. After draining the hot tea from his cup, he turned back to switch cups, creating distance in a composed, subtle manner: “Why has Your Majesty come?”

Watching the sudden gap that had opened between them, the expression on the Emperor’s face stiffened for a moment, but he still smiled with good temper: “I came out after finishing the memorials. Seeing the lights still on in the Nebula Pavilion from afar, I thought I would come to see you. How is your… illness?”

Illness?

Gu Chengyan looked at him as if he had heard a joke. The light in his eyes flickered, and he couldn’t help but truly laugh. His condition was a chronic, deep-seated ailment—to put it bluntly, a severe internal injury that left the old doctors of the Imperial Hospital and the miraculous doctors of the martial world shaking their heads. This couldn’t be called an “illness,” as most illnesses were treatable.

Thus, Gu Chengyan shrugged, “Just as it has always been.”

The Emperor disliked seeing him so indifferent to his own life and death, so he frowned and ordered someone to bring his cloak” The weather grows cold after autumn begins; Brother, you must take care of yourself.”

Gu Chengyan stepped back, shaking his head at the eunuch who came over holding the cloak, then moved to the side of the green jade desk and picked up his hand warmer. This clear, distancing rejection made the Emperor feel somewhat restless. He stole a glance behind him, confirming that the others were not exposing their positions.

Then… The Emperor looked suspiciously at the man sitting behind the jade desk, who was idly trimming the candlewick with golden scissors—tonight, Gu Chengyan seemed a bit different. Noticing his inquisitive gaze, Gu Chengyan tilted his head, resting his chin on his hand as he watched the Emperor through the candlelight, his long, narrow eyes half-closed like a lazy cat.

“So, Your Majesty has come to the Nebula Pavilion tonight just to see me?”

The Emperor finally remembered his purpose for coming. His hand, hidden within his wide sleeves, tightened. “I…”

Gu Chengyan spun the scissors between his fingertips, his eyes dancing in the pale yellow candlelight. Seeing him so relaxed, the Emperor finally calmed down, finding his voice, “I brought some fine wine and wanted to invite Brother to taste it with me.”

Gu Chengyan blinked, amused: “Your Majesty is inviting a sick man to drink?”

A flash of embarrassment crossed the Emperor’s face, but he quickly frowned and kicked a wine jar beside the green jade desk, “Aren’t you already drinking in secret?”

Gu Chengyan looked at that jar of wine, pursed his lips, and did not bother to explain. Let him believe he was still the reckless, ignorant youth of the past. But in truth—heaven is his witness what he had in his cup was hot water infused with goji berries, red dates, and ginger slices.

It cures all ailments.

He stood up, dropped the scissors, hugged his hand warmer, and leaned back, falling comfortably into the lounge chair behind the green jade desk. “Since Your Majesty has brought wine, it seems you are in a good mood?”

The Emperor thought for a moment, waved his hand to dismiss the little eunuch who had been standing there awkwardly with the cloak, and gestured for another palace attendant holding a tray to step forward. In the center of the lacquer-red tray sat a white jade flagon, with two exquisite wine cups beside it—both rare imperial treasures. The Emperor did not let the attendant approach; instead, he stepped forward to take the tray himself, then rolled up his sleeves and poured a cup for Gu Chengyan with his own hands.

The clear, transparent liquid traced a continuous thin line through the air, and the rich, sweet aroma of the wine instantly filled the surroundings. After pouring two cups, the Emperor sat down across from Gu Chengyan and smiled, explaining:

“That matter has been settled. The Imperial Guard found a dragon robe in a hidden compartment in the State Preceptor’s mansion, and we have also found witnesses.” The smile on the Emperor’s face faded slightly as he took a sip of wine. “Today, my uncle confessed his guilt and signed the deposition…”

Gu Chengyan smiled and said nothing. Seeing him remain silent, the Emperor’s hand tightened around his wine cup, but he kept his expression steady, looking at Gu Chengyan affectionately:

“Brother, I only have you left.”

That’s a line. Gu Chengyan hissed as if his tooth ached; had he not been prepared, he would have fallen for this man’s trap. He lifted his eyelids, looking at the Emperor with profound meaning:

“The Wei family has always been thin on descendants. The State Preceptor is alone and has no children, nor does he have any other uncles, brothers, or nephews… Forgive my ignorance, but I truly cannot understand why would a fifty-year-old general hide a dragon robe?”

The Emperor was stunned; various expressions flashed through his eyes, but in the end, he only affected a wounded look: “Brother does not believe me?”

Gu Chengyan: “…” The Emperor’s acting was so good he had almost failed to keep his own facade.

Coughing lightly, Gu Chengyan did not pursue the topic. The State Preceptor was the Emperor’s own uncle; years ago, when the Imperial Concubine Wei died tragically and the cold palace burned, it was the State Preceptor who had risked his life to save the Emperor and escort him to Qingshuang Mountain. Ever since then, the State Preceptor had charged into battle for the Emperor, risking his life time and again. Such loyalty was enough to move even Gu Chengyan, yet the Emperor could find it in his heart to…

He shook his head and sighed, then turned the topic, hooking his index finger to tap against the wine flagon, “So, what wine has Your Majesty brought this time?”

The topic changed too quickly; the Emperor did not react for a moment. Before coming, fearing Gu Chengyan would press him about the State Preceptor, he had specifically ordered the Imperial Guard to prepare material evidence—the dragon robe, the signed deposition, and a gardener from the State Preceptor’s mansion bought with heavy gold. He hadn’t expected Gu Chengyan not to ask about it at all.

No, this isn’t right. The Emperor peered at Gu Chengyan, his brows knit together: his brother was truly different tonight. His speech and manner were all wrong, but the Emperor couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Hmm?” Seeing the Emperor remain silent, Gu Chengyan slowly sat up from the lounge chair, the playful smile on his face gradually fading, “Your Majesty?”

“…It is ‘Shao Ri Zui’ (Sun-Burning Drunkenness).”

“‘Shao Ri Zui’?” Gu Chengyan repeated. It seemed the wine had finally attracted his full attention. He picked up a wine cup with interest, “Did you have people buy it?”

The Emperor shook his head, “It was a tribute from the Northwest.”

Shao Ri Zui was a type of liquor originally from Xingqing Prefecture in the Northwest; it tasted spicy and burning on the tongue, followed by a lingering sweetness, and its rich aroma would not dissipate for three days. In the past, on Qingshuang Mountain, it was their favorite drink.

Gu Chengyan picked up the cup and sniffed it, his long, narrow eyes half-closed, appearing to savor the long-lost aroma intently. Meanwhile, the Emperor’s gaze was glued to those lips about to open, and his hand hidden in his sleeve trembled uncontrollably, slick with sweat.

After smelling it for a while, Gu Chengyan did not drink. He tsked and frowned: “This wine”

The Emperor’s heart rose to his throat, “…What about it?”

Gu Chengyan glanced at him, chuckling as he put the cup down, “Has Your Majesty diluted this wine with water?”

The Emperor was choked by his words. After coughing twice, he shook his head, “Brother jokes, how could tribute Shao Ri Zui be diluted with water?”

Gu Chengyan said nothing, looking at him with a beaming smile.

“Really…” The Emperor picked up his cup and took another sip, his eyes flickering slightly, “Why would I dare to deceive Brother with diluted wine?”

Gu Chengyan looked at the moon overhead, calculating that the timing was about right. He took a long look at the Emperor, then suddenly pinched the wine cup and flicked his finger, throwing it behind the Emperor.

“Brother, you”

The Emperor stood up to stop him, but he was a step too late. The white jade cup was launched like a hidden weapon, forcing the four people hiding in the bamboo bushes behind the corridor to reveal themselves. They were all dressed in black night-traveling clothes, stepping in uniform flying-cloud boots; their footing was steady, marking them instantly as martial arts masters.

By the moonlight, Gu Chengyan swept his eyes over their faces one by one, then he curled the corner of his mouth and sighed with understanding: Oh, excellent, excellent—they are all old acquaintances.

The martial arts of these four were beyond reproach, but they were all notorious for their crimes of rape and plunder; most people in the martial world refused to associate with them, and they were even given the nickname “The Four Evils of Qishan.” It seemed the Emperor had ultimately “graciously taken them in.”

The Emperor remained silent for a long moment, unwilling to give up. He gritted his teeth, “Brother, they are just here to protect me…”

“Your Majesty,” Gu Chengyan interrupted him, “Stop the act.”

The Emperor stared at him, the clarity in his eyes fading bit by bit, replaced by an ink-like gloominess, “You knew all along.” It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

Gu Chengyan spread his hands. He hadn’t known initially, but—who could blame him for having lived two lifetimes? In his previous life, he was a wanderer who walked the world with a sword, free and easy. After coming down from the mountain to assist the cold-palace prince in seizing the throne, he was treated with suspicion and framed. A year after being named State Preceptor, the Emperor sent his trusted eunuchs to frame the meritorious officials and generals with false charges, executing them or exiling them. When it came to him, he was charged with the grave crimes of forming a clique at court, conspiring with the State Preceptor, and interfering in state affairs.

In his previous life tonight, when the Emperor told him about the State Preceptor’s rebellion, Gu Chengyan had been full of suspicion, refusing to believe it, and could not help but try to argue for the old general. But the Emperor had spoken with such conviction, producing witnesses and physical evidence collected by the three government offices, and finally even producing the signed deposition of the State Preceptor himself. Thus, even with his doubts, Gu Chengyan had no choice but to believe it, sighing for the old general. Afterward, the Emperor had used the same words he had just spoken to act pitiful and win sympathy, saying that after his uncle’s betrayal, he only had Gu Chengyan left. Finally, he had brought out the pot of Shao Ri Zui to say he was depressed and invite Gu Chengyan to drink.

At that time, Gu Chengyan had been recovering from a major illness—suffering from a high fever and coughing blood for days. The imperial physician had ordered him not to drink, so he hadn’t agreed at first. But the Emperor had insisted, even arguing with him, eventually leading the “Four Evils of Qishan” to appear and surround him. Gu Chengyan could not fend off so many opponents and was eventually pinned down and force-fed the wine, which caused a dull, blade-like pain to course through all his meridians. As he watched him trembling in cold sweat, the Emperor had revealed a satisfied smile and told him the wine was spiked with a rare poison that would turn him into a cripple.

“Brother, don’t blame me, blame yourself for being born with such stunning beauty and matchless swordsmanship, making it impossible not to offend you. I, too, was forced by circumstance.”

Before Gu Chengyan could grasp his meaning, the Imperial Guard arrived like ghosts, smiling lewdly while offering the Emperor red ropes and silver locks. Later, Gu Chengyan was kept under house arrest by the Emperor in the Mingguang Palace, the Emperor’s own bedroom. The Emperor ignored all his curses and did not act in the lecherous way the Imperial Guard had speculated. He only had his attendants feed him secret drugs every day, tie his hands and feet with red ropes, and then sit by his side holding a cup of Shao Ri Zui, watching him struggle, lose his composure, and suffer with great interest. He could not bear the voyeurism that clung to his skin like a parasite and begged the Emperor to end it, but the Emperor only laughed softly, saying he wanted him to do it willingly.

“Brother, I will wait for the day you beg me yourself.”

Later, after several failed assassination attempts and suicide attempts, the Emperor used the lives of the people of Qingshuang Mountain to force him to live. Gu Chengyan was already severely wounded; having his martial arts crippled and suffering such torture, he naturally became exhausted in both body and soul, soon nearing death. Even when the Emperor later invited famous physicians and kidnapped many martial arts experts to use their internal energy to sustain his life, he gasped his last breath within a year.

And then, he was reborn. He had returned to this year, this very moment, when he had recovered from his illness and the Emperor began his purge of meritorious officials—

Seeing Gu Chengyan smiling and remaining silent, the sweat on the Emperor’s palms finally began to cool in the night breeze. He ground his teeth, deciding to lay out his plan, “Brother, since you already know, I will not keep it from you. There are two paths before you”

“First, let the men from the three offices take you away. You will be convicted of treason, and those people at Qingshuang Mountain will also be implicated as accomplices. From now on, whether in the court or the martial world, they will be hunted by imperial troops and martial arts masters to the ends of the earth until they are dead.”

“Second, as long as you drink this wine, the rebellion mentioned just now was mere babble. I will pretend none of it ever happened, and Brother, you will remain the most exalted State Preceptor of our dynasty.”

Gu Chengyan chuckled, “And then?”

The Emperor’s face was filled with madness and infatuation, “And then I will tell the outside world that Brother succumbed to a grave illness, then secretly keep you in the palace, by my side. From now on—I will cherish you, and you will be my most beloved…”

Whoosh. A silver light flashed, and the Emperor did not finish his sentence. No one saw how Gu Chengyan had moved; even the Four Evils of Qishan, who were standing closest, only saw a blur. Gu Chengyan stood with a pure white sword, lazily resting the blade against the Emperor’s neck.

“Your Majesty?!” The four men were instantly panicked. The Emperor, held hostage by the sharp blade, remained calm. He lowered his eyes to glance at the blade and chuckled warmly instead: “Brother, even if you escape tonight, what about Qingshuang Mountain? Can you bear to let them carry the stigma of regicide and rebellion just like you?”

Gu Chengyan turned his head with a beaming smile. After meeting the Emperor’s eyes for a moment, he hurried to look away: No, can’t look. One more glance, and I’ll lose years off my life. Of course, he hadn’t intended to kill the Emperor, nor was he impulsive enough to escape this way. He had suddenly drawn his sword just to see how many people the Emperor had brought outside the Nebula Pavilion—that was something he hadn’t known in his previous life.

Clanging armor signaled the arrival of imperial soldiers, pouring in like a tide and almost suffocating the Nebula Pavilion: in the front were the elite of the Imperial Guard in black combat gear, behind them were the Imperial Guards in golden armor, and crouching on the courtyard walls, busy setting up crossbows, were the Imperial Bodyguards.

Wow, all three armies are ready.

Gu Chengyan scanned the scene and nodded with satisfaction: The Emperor truly does take me seriously.

The head of the Imperial Guard, looking menacing, rushed over and pointed his sword directly, “Gu Chengyan! Such audacity!”

Gu Chengyan only curled his eyes as he looked at him, then suddenly pulled his sword back in a flourish, “Your Majesty’s words make perfect sense, so, I choose neither.”

The Emperor had just exhaled, but upon hearing this, his brows knit together again, and he looked around suspiciously, “What does Brother mean by that?”

“I choose the third path.”

Gu Chengyan retreated two steps, his gaze calm as he looked back toward the night sky. Only then did everyone realize high in the blue-black northwestern sky, wave after wave of wolf smoke was rising.

The Emperor was stunned; just as he was about to speak, a series of hurried and chaotic hoofbeats rang out outside the Nebula Pavilion. A few dusty soldiers rushed in without waiting to report, throwing themselves onto the ground:

“Your Majesty, an urgent military report from the front”

“The Zhalantai tribe of the Rongdi has already captured Yunzhou! The Jizhou defenders could not stop the Rongdi iron cavalry at all, and it looks like they are about to strike into the capital region!!”

“B-but, before the prairie Wolf Lord launched the attack, he… he sent an envoy with a condition, saying… saying he is willing to negotiate with our dynasty.”

The Emperor’s heart skipped a beat, a vague sense of foreboding rising. He narrowed his eyes gloomily, “What is the condition?”

The soldier hesitated for a moment, raised his head to glance fleetingly at Gu Chengyan, and then muttered timidly:

“The Rongdi envoy said… said their Wolf Lord has long heard of the State Preceptor’s beauty and yearns for him in his heart. As long as we… we promise to marry off the State Preceptor, he will sign an alliance and call off the troops…”

The Emperor stood as if struck by lightning, turned his head in horror after a long moment, “Did you plan this all along?”

Gu Chengyan sheathed his sword elegantly, “Would Your Majesty care to take a guess?”