Chapter 273: A Perfect Puppet (1)
"Why are they still attacking us?" Rong Chao asked, staring down at the two unconscious lion beast warriors bound in the snow. "Haven’t you already resolved the conflict by giving them what they wanted, Brother?"
The battlefield had fallen silent.
Most of the lion beast warriors had been reduced to ashes by fox fire, their remains scattered beneath the softly drifting snow. Only two had been spared, unconscious and bound tightly enough with spirit-binding ropes that even in their prime state, escape would be impossible.
Rong Yue stood before them, his expression deceptively calm.
Yet beneath the cold winter light, a faint silver glow flickered dangerously through his blue eyes.
He was furious.
He had already settled the dispute. He had agreed to send Rong Chen into the lion beast royal family as part of the marriage alliance they had so aggressively demanded, leaving his parents to oversee the remaining minor negotiations. He had done everything necessary, not out of weakness, but because he wanted to leave the petty political conflict behind.
He wanted to focus on Ningyan.
Yet the lion beasts had still dared to ambush them.
"Yue’er?" Yan Wuhen’s smooth voice pulled him from his darkening thoughts as a hand settled against his shoulder.
Rong Yue turned his head to find the nine tailed fox watching him with narrowed red-and-gold eyes, his nine tails swaying slowly behind his back.
"Are you all right?"
Rong Yue’s gaze shifted toward Ningyan. The phoenix stood a few paces away, strangely composed. He didn’t appear frightened, shaken, or even remotely winded by the sudden battle.
If anything, Ningyan looked almost indifferent.
Rong Yue knew why. To Ningyan’s current state of mind, simply executing the remaining lion beasts would have been the cleaner, simpler solution.
"Yes." Rong Yue released a slow, steady breath. "I will handle it. For now, we should continue toward Earth City."
Tang Ruifeng nodded, his sharp gaze lingering thoughtfully on the bound captives. "I don’t think the lion beast elders are thinking clearly if they truly intend to provoke the White Tiger Clan again."
"Yeah..." Rong Chao murmured, his expression deeply troubled.
With a final glance around the scorched snow, he and Tang Ruifeng returned to their lead carriage.
Rong Yue remained behind for another silent moment before turning back toward his own carriage. The moment he stepped up, Ningyan looked up to meet his eyes. Before he could say anything, Rong Yue reached out, gently caught his wrist, and pulled him inside.
Ningyan stumbled slightly over the threshold, his brow furrowing into an immediate scowl. "You know you don’t have to stay with us. You clearly have clan matters to deal with."
Rong Yue didn’t let go of his wrist until they were both seated. His expression remained completely composed as he sat beside him. "I can handle clan affairs without needing to be physically present."
Ningyan stared at him, searching his face.
"Unless, of course, you are trying to chase me away," Rong Yue added softly, "because you intend to do something I would object to."
Ningyan said nothing.
His violet eyes searched Rong Yue’s face, guardedness and something far softer warring beneath the surface. He looked as though he wanted to retort, yet couldn’t quite decide on the words. In the end, he simply clicked his tongue and turned his gaze toward the frosted carriage window.
A moment later, the carriage door opened again, and Yan Wuhen stepped inside. He settled onto the bench opposite them without a single word of banter, and before long, the heavy wheels began to turn once more.
The rhythmic sway of the moving carriage gradually quieted the lingering tension of the attack.
Wuhen was the first to fall asleep, leaning back lazily against the wooden frame. His nine crimson tails, however, apparently had no intention of resting. They stretched shamelessly across the carriage interior, one brushing lightly against Ningyan’s cheek, another playfully patting Rong Yue’s head, while yet another occasionally poked at the tiger king’s shoulder.
Eventually, the endless motion of the journey began to take its toll on Ningyan. His eyelids grew heavy, drooping despite his best efforts to stay vigilant.
Without seeming to realize it, his posture gave way, and his head leaned sideways until it rested softly against Rong Yue’s shoulder.
Rong Yue went entirely still.
He lowered his eyes to look at his husband beside him. Ningyan was already fast asleep, his breath coming in soft, even cadence, completely unaware of where he had landed.
Rong Yue carefully adjusted his shoulder slightly so Ningyan could rest more comfortably against his chest.
He quietly turned his head to look out through the carriage window as the white, snow-covered landscape passed them by.
°^°
Waking in a soft bed was the last thing Ningyan expected.
When he slowly opened his eyes, pale morning light had already spilled through the latticed windows, illuminating the spacious chamber in a gentle glow.
Beyond the carved wooden screens, the sky was beginning to clear, sunlight touching the distant clouds while birds chirped faintly in the distance. The morning wind whispered through the surrounding trees, carrying with it the unfamiliar serenity of Earth City.
Ningyan pushed himself upright, blinking away the lingering remnants of sleep. His neck ached from the awkward position he had slept in, and his stomach gave a quiet protest. He was hungry.
More importantly, he was confused.
He had slept far too deeply. Deep enough that he hadn’t even noticed when they arrived in Earth City or when someone had carried him from the carriage and placed him gently in bed.
Ningyan’s gaze swept across the enormous chamber when the bathing-room doors suddenly opened.
He turned and his brain went blank.
Yan Wuhen stepped out into the room.
His long, crimson-black hair was still damp from his bath, several dark strands clinging loosely to his face. His nine magnificent tails stretched languidly behind him, shaking off tiny droplets of water that scattered through the air, catching the morning light in shimmering red-gold sparks.
He wore nothing but loose, low-waisted trousers. His sculpted torso was completely exposed, every graceful, line of muscle visible beneath his pale skin.
Ningyan stared. Every single trace of sleep vanishing from his being.
Wuhen’s crimson-gold eyes brightened the second he noticed him awake. "Good morning, Yan’er."
Before Ningyan could even process a reaction, the nine-tailed fox crossed the distance in a flash. His arms wrapped around Ningyan’s waist, pulling him forward off the mattress until their bodies pressed together.
Wuhen lowered his head, his sharp ears twitching happily as his warm breath brushed against Ningyan’s lips.
Then, he kissed him.
It wasn’t deep or demanding, just leisurely, warm, and shamelessly affectionate. But Ningyan’s entire face burned and the nine fox tails curled around them like a plush, living cocoon, shielding them from the morning chill.
"Did you sleep well?" Wuhen murmured, stepping back just enough to look at him, looking utterly pleased with himself. "I would have bathed you and changed your robes myself, but Yue’er said that probably wasn’t..."
Ningyan slapped a hand over his mouth. "Enough."
Wuhen blinked innocently against his palm.
Ningyan’s breathing was slightly uneven. "You..." He drew a long breath, trying desperately to regain his scattered composure. "You can’t just kiss people whenever you feel like it."
Wuhen’s eyes curved into a mischievous smile beneath Ningyan’s hand. "Why not?"
Ningyan stared at him. The fox looked entirely serious.
Without the slightest hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed him again, right against the corner of his lips.
Ningyan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
This time Wuhen pulled away almost immediately, clearly delighted by the shock on Ningyan’s flushed face. A low, fond laugh escaped him. "How did you become even more beautiful?" His gaze wandered over Ningyan’s features with unabashed affection. "And even more adorable?"
Ningyan’s ears burned like fire.
"You didn’t change at all, Yan’er," Wuhen continued softly, his voice dropping into a tender tone. "Not even a little."
Something inside Ningyan’s chest suddenly tightened. He stared at him. "...Really?"
Wuhen paused. Then, he lifted a hand and gently ran his long fingers through Ningyan’s slightly disheveled white hair. "No."
Ningyan blinked.
Wuhen smiled warmly. "Not really."
A strange, quiet warmth spread through Ningyan’s chest, loosening a tight knot he hadn’t even realized he had been carrying.
Perhaps some buried part of him had feared that everyone who remembered Su Ningyan was merely looking at a stranger wearing his face.
But Wuhen’s expression held no hesitation or uncertainty.
He looked at Ningyan as though beneath the dark demonic aura, the pulsing black veins, he could still see the exact same person he had loved.
Ningyan lowered his eyes, his long lashes casting quiet shadows on his cheeks, though the warmth in his chest remained.
"Where is Rong Yue?" He asked softly, shifting the subject before his heart could embarrass him further.