The Richest Man’s Boyfriend Lives in a History Textbook - Chapter 2

The sky darkened, and scattered birds found their resting places for the night as the temperature grew lower and lower.

Xingyuan hunched his shoulders inward. He reached out and activated the automatic temperature-regulation function on his school uniform, his gaze drifting blankly around him.

Ever since he had discovered that others couldn’t see him, he had been quite excited at first — but once he calmed down, he found that the area around him was completely bare, with nothing at all to play with.

Xingyuan’s eyelids drooped. He reached up and ruffled his own hair, then used his instincts to smooth it back into place.

Just then, a different sound emerged from the previously chaotic and arhythmic road.

Several sets of footsteps — not entirely in sync, yet highly disciplined — rang out. Each time boots struck the ground, the sound was far more grounded and solid than that of ordinary people.

Xingyuan tilted his head. The reddish-gold glow of dusk spilled over the tops of a group of adult men.

These tall men were draped in the outer garments worn by nobility, yet both their appearance and their manner were thoroughly at odds with any notion of the aristocratic.

They moved with wide, sweeping strides. Their bodies held none of the plumpness typical of ordinary nobles — instead, they were lean and wiry, with power coiled deep in their very bones.

Most striking of all was their faces.

Due to the angle, Xingyuan could only see their profiles.

These faces were mostly sharp-boned and rough-skinned, bearing the unmistakable weathering of hardship and, to varying degrees, the marks of scars.

They were smiling in that moment, yet in those half-narrowed eyes lurked nothing but a razor-sharp edge.

Xingyuan’s clear eyes widened all at once. He fixed his gaze intently on the movements of these men. Even though their clothing was different, one glance was all it took — he knew immediately who these people were!

These people were… were…!

Xingyuan’s lips parted slightly, his heart thumping rapidly.

And yet there was more — the one who drew his eye above all others was the man at the very front.

That man’s back was straight as a pine, and though the exposed skin bore many scars, his bone structure was nothing short of exceptional.

Each step he took was steady and forceful; his sharp, decisive stride set the dry grass along the roadside swaying.

Xingyuan couldn’t read the man’s emotions, yet he could see the slight curve at the corner of his lips.

He guessed that this person probably had a very agreeable temperament.

Of course, what caught his attention most was this person’s hairstyle.

This man actually had a little topknot!

The hollow in Xingyuan’s heart healed in an instant.

In the myths of Ketan, the War God Stahl also had a little topknot!

Xingyuan stood there, his eyes gathering a focused light as he concentrated his attention to a single point. His upper body tilted slightly forward, and the fingertips at his side twitched.

****

The crumbling city wall came into view, and Aisley slowed his steps.

Watching the flags fluttering atop the wall, Aisley’s smile gradually faded.

He took out his gloves and put them on, then turned to the side and accepted with both hands the cloth bundle Fred passed to him.

Fred sighed beside him. “Once a great empire of an era, and now it’s come to this. Not a single emperor or minister left behind…”

Aisley’s lips moved slightly — neither affirming nor denying. He rolled his neck, producing a crackling sound.

The flags on the city wall swayed in the wind, yet out of the corner of his eye, Aisley caught a glimpse of a black-and-white figure.

He half-narrowed his eyes and curved his lips into a smile, though a terrifying sharpness swept across the depths of his gaze.

His hand moved to the blade at his side, fingers tightening around the hilt. Yet outwardly he appeared completely natural — he even smiled and pointed toward something in the distance, making idle, casual conversation with Fred.

Aisley hadn’t been listening closely to whatever Fred was saying. He stretched his neck and, with a smiling expression, directed his gaze toward that spot —

The curve of his lips slowly dropped. The smiling, half-narrowed eyes opened involuntarily.

His lips moved. He drew a deep breath, and only then did he hastily pull his gaze back.

Aisley closed his eyes. The gloved fingers pressed hard against his eyelids, massaging them. He licked the trace of blood on his lips, his heart hammering heavily.

“What’s wrong?” Fred sensed something was off and leaned in to ask.

Aisley pressed a closed fist to his lips and coughed several times in succession, then glanced at him. “Nothing.”

“Oh, okay.” Fred didn’t give it much thought. He rubbed his hands together and continued looking at the flags ahead.

Aisley looked toward the flags as well. His tone was light as he “casually” continued the small talk.

“Have you ever seen a boy who looks like white porcelain?”

“White porcelain?” Fred turned his head and stared at him in disbelief. “What are you thinking? Never mind a boy made of white porcelain — I’ve never even seen white porcelain itself! That stuff is worth a fortune. You sure know a lot for someone like you!”

Aisley narrowed his eyes and touched his nose. He clicked his tongue, gazed into the distance, and continued murmuring.

“Just — very pale and slender, with delicate skin, like… a messenger of the divine.”

“How is that possible?” Fred was amused into a laugh. “Not even His Majesty’s little prince could look like that.”

“Hm?” Aisley tilted his head and gestured with his eyes in Xingyuan’s direction.

After Fred looked over that way, Aisley quickly shifted his gaze elsewhere, his hand instinctively clenching into a fist behind his back.

“Huh?” said Fred.

Aisley lowered his head and gave a small laugh — something more human, at last, surfacing in his eyes.

“Are you talking about the crow on that dead tree ahead?”

Aisley: ……

He smoothed away his smile, furrowed his brows, and lifted his head. When his gaze met the child’s bright, luminous eyes, he still let his own eyes drop, averting his line of sight.

When Xingyuan noticed the blond-haired man in the group looking in his direction, he instantly tensed up and took several steps back, afraid the man had spotted him.

However, the man merely swept a glance toward him, then shifted his line of sight upward — toward the top of Xingyuan’s head.

Huh?

Xingyuan looked up curiously. Several crows were circling above his head.

Xingyuan: ……

He blinked, and let out a breath of relief.

It seemed he couldn’t be seen after all.

He had just drawn his gaze back when he noticed the man with the little topknot was also looking toward him, eyes carrying an unfathomable depth.

Xingyuan’s eyes widened, his round pupils fully exposed.

But before even a second had passed, the man looked back down at the ground.

Xingyuan: Phew…

He quietly let out a breath of relief.

As expected, he still couldn’t see him.

Xingyuan had been pampered by family since childhood and had never really suffered. Emboldened by this, he gathered his courage and openly fixed his gaze on Aisley.

Earlier he had only seen the side profile; this time, he had a full view of the face.

With his exceptional eyesight, Xingyuan studied the man’s features carefully.

The man’s face had little flesh on it — equally sharp-boned and angular. His skin was a shade darker than wheat, and its texture was quite rough. A long scar near the eye appeared to have been left from years past, running from the brow bone all the way to the ear, though the mark was relatively faint.

The man’s lips were very dry — already peeling, even seeping blood at the edges.

Although the man’s surface appearance was rough, his bone structure could truly be called a golden ratio.

What a pity that so many years of war had ruined what must once have been a remarkably handsome man into what he was now.

Not ugly — but no longer as striking as he must once have been.

Xingyuan was still examining him carefully when the man turned his head, obscuring his face completely — nothing left but the back of his head.

Xingyuan opened his mouth slightly and sighed.

A little disappointing.

He didn’t see it — that as the man turned away, his fingers trembled briefly before clenching together again.

Xingyuan was still thinking about moving closer to get a better look, but before he could even take two steps, the man issued a single command, and the entire group moved in the direction of the city wall at his order.

Xingyuan: ……

Probably just his bad luck.

It was only when this group of “noble lords” struck out with their sharp, measured stride that the people around them realized this was no ordinary crowd.

Merchants instinctively shielded their goods; the destitute drew back nervously toward the walls.

Xingyuan remained standing under the tree, watching the group with curiosity.

The procession reached the city wall, and as the last light of dusk bathed them, the tops of their heads and half their bodies turned to gold.

That scene had no drums or gongs, no long blare of horns — yet it carved out a singular, special place in Xingyuan’s memory.

The flag of a once-glorious empire was taken down. A tall, dark silhouette stood with both hands cradling a new flag, waiting as the subordinates busied themselves around him.

On the worn and crumbling city wall, a brand-new flag declared that this city now belonged to the territory of another nation.

The reddish-gold light and shadow fell into a pair of deep-blue pupils, and one obedient little head gave a quiet nod.

****

The moment they descended from the city wall, the group dispersed.

Aisley smiled and shook his head. He plucked a weed and tucked it between his lips.

There was not a single companion around him, and he appeared to have grown thoroughly accustomed to this.

He lifted the hem of his coat and felt around in his pocket, finding two Kaen coins. He picked them up and weighed them in his palm — should be enough to buy a large bottle of wine.

He scanned his surroundings, and when he spotted the barely visible sign of a tavern far in the distance, a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

Now that there were no subordinates around, he dropped his usual air of composure. The way he walked was no longer upright and proper — instead, he seemed rather carefree and rakish.

Of course, no matter how freely he moved, the discipline ingrained in his very bones still gave his gait a certain form and bearing.

He sauntered along with the weed dangling from his mouth, hands clasped behind his back, the straw swaying back and forth. As the sun set around him, the air grew progressively cooler.

When his military boots struck the ground, his strides were long and wide — each step steady and full of power.

As he walked on, the sound of hurried, irregular footsteps reached Aisley’s ears.

Aisley paused. His steps halted for just a moment, a faint smile drifting at the corner of his mouth — and then he pretended nothing had happened and walked on.

His line of sight didn’t shift at all. With nothing more than a glimpse of that black-and-white figure at the edge of his vision, he already knew who it was.

Recalling the image of the boy, Aisley’s thoughts churned in all directions.

He found it difficult to estimate this boy’s age.

The boy’s skin was so delicate that time seemed unable to leave any trace on his face. He was also tall — nearly reaching Aisley’s shoulder. Ordinarily, anyone who had grown to that height in the Lyteye Empire would already be of an age to take a wife and start a family.

And yet, the boy’s face was so young — it looked like no more than eleven or twelve…

Speaking of his face, something else came to mind.

The boy’s features were soft and gentle, with no sharp angles — and he looked nothing at all like the people from around here.

He was more like… someone from a foreign land, the kind encountered in earlier years.

Then there was the clothing — a strange style.

Aisley rubbed his temple, his expression pensive. That quality of fabric — even the Emperor’s court robes couldn’t compare.

He shook his head. He didn’t quite know why, but he smiled.

Xingyuan had been watching Aisley’s stride the entire time. The man’s steps blended ease with precision, and Xingyuan tried to imitate him, striving to match the exact same width with every step.

His legs were only a little shorter than Aisley’s — still among the longer variety in a crowd. But for some reason, even though Aisley walked with such effortless ease, Xingyuan was gasping for breath.

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. Because he couldn’t get enough air, he had already started breathing through his mouth.

His lips weren’t as cracked as Aisley’s, but from the exertion, they had gone from their usual rosy color to a faint, pale pink — even verging on white.

Aisley continued striding forward, the tassel hanging from the hilt at his waist swinging rhythmically.

The lamplight of the tavern ahead was still some distance away, yet what reached Aisley’s ears was the sound of repeated, ragged panting.

Aisley’s brows drew together, and his smile faded slowly.

How could someone be panting this hard after just a few steps? Had they taken a serious injury before?

He tilted his head and looked down — and froze after just one glance. He opened his mouth, then pressed his lips shut. In the end, he retrieved his gaze with an expression caught somewhere between helplessness and bewilderment.

He bit down on his lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood between his teeth. Aisley’s brows and eyes twisted into a strange expression — it looked as though he was laughing, yet also barely holding it in. And laced through it all were traces of pity and confusion.

He recalled the image of the boy.

The fine hairs at the boy’s temples were soaked through with sweat. From the long, dense lashes hung beads of perspiration. The soft cheeks were flushed pink from the exertion.

The boy was trying so hard to keep up with him, yet was utterly breathless from the effort.

Aisley: ……

His throat moved, and yet he couldn’t find the right words.

For a moment, he couldn’t hold it back — a quiet laugh escaped him.

This child… how was he already this exhausted… from just a few steps of walking?

Thinking of Xingyuan’s pitiful, winded state from trying to keep up with him, Aisley closed his lips.

He slid a sideways glance at Xingyuan — then straightened his posture and resumed his original pace.

That is to say — he walked even faster.