Slowly, Gu Fuzhou smiled. The wind blew harshly, and he felt a bit cold wearing only his nightclothes. Slipping his hand under Lin Qingyu’s blankets, he lay down beside him. “Your words are so kind—but if I became someone ugly, you definitely wouldn’t have let me put my hand beneath your blankets.”
Lin Qingyu couldn’t argue with that. “True. I’d cut off your hand.” He didn’t judge anyone by their appearance, but he had to look at his husband every day. An ugly husband would have dampened his mood too much.
Gu Fuzhou’s hand roamed farther and farther, but he still had his own limits. The worst thing he did was squeeze Lin Qingyu’s waist; there was no extra flesh to grab onto. “The author of Huai’s Revenge on the Monarch specified that you’re the prettiest person in the entire novel. No one else’s appearance could take your breath away.”
Lin Qingyu thought for a while. “Someone’s appearance took my breath away once.”
“Really?” Gu Fuzhou sounded doubtful. “Whose?”
Lin Qingyu looked at him. “Really.”
Gu Fuzhou seemed unhappy. “What did he look like?”
“…I forgot.” He’d forgotten as soon as he woke up from that dream. All he could remember was how he’d felt.
“If their appearance surprised you that much, how could you forget it? Your memory’s so good.”
“I don’t know.” Anytime he remembered that dream, Lin Qingyu stopped wanting to be kind to Gu Fuzhou. He pushed the man’s hand out from under his blankets. “Go away and go to sleep.”
The third day after the wedding, they returned to the Lin manor, bringing gifts prepared by Yuan Yin. Gu Fuzhou had given Lin Qingyu full permission to choose them, so he’d brought twice as many gifts as the first time he’d returned home with his husband after their wedding. The Lin storerooms were stuffed to the brim; the family had to clear out a few rooms in their residence just to store the gifts.
Alongside Gu Fuzhou, Lin Qingyu once again presented tea to his parents. Then Gu Fuzhou took out the gift he’d prepared for Lin Qinghe—a sword Gu Fuzhou had wielded during his childhood. It was perfect for a young boy of Lin Qinghe’s age, and he accepted the gift politely.
“Thank you, Great General.”
Lin Qinghe had been brought up well by his parents and older brother, so in front of outsiders, he seemed like a proper young lord—he only acted playful in front of his family. But when Gu Fuzhou had still been Lu Wancheng, Lin Qinghe acted cute in front of him.
When Lin Qinghe treated him like a stranger, Gu Fuzhou couldn’t help asking, “How did you refer to Young Marquess Lu, Qinghe?”
Thinking of Lu Wancheng, Lin Qinghe pouted. “I called him ‘Wancheng-gege,’” he said sadly.
“Then you can refer to me in the same way.”
Lin Qinghe snuck a glance at his brother, who nodded. “All right…Uncle Gu.”
Gu Fuzhou nearly cracked in half.
“Qinghe, don’t just say anything you want,” Lin Qingyu’s mother quickly said. “If you call him that, you’ll mess up the family hierarchy.”
“The general is twenty-some years older than Qinghe,” Lin Qingyu said smugly. “Qinghe would have trouble calling him gege.”
When they returned from the Lin manor, Gu Fuzhou sank into depression. Not because he’d been called Uncle Gu, but because his three days of wedding leave were over, and he’d have to wake up early to go to court the next morning.
Someone in the residence was even more depressed than Gu Fuzhou, though—Yuan Yin. Smiling bitterly, he sought out Lin Qingyu. “Tomorrow morning, Lady, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you with waking the general up.”
“Don’t worry,” Lin Qingyu said calmly.
Yuan Yin couldn’t not worry, so he elaborated, “Lady, you only just arrived, so you may not know this. As soon as the general returned from Yongliang, it was as if he’d developed a sleeping disorder. I couldn’t wake him, no matter what. Please begin trying to wake him an hour early so that he has time to adjust.”
Lin Qingyu’s smile was mysterious. “I may have more experience in waking him than you do.”
Yuan Yin was shocked but didn’t dare ask. He could only smile apologetically. “Thank you, Lady.”
Great Yu’s morning court began at the mao hour,15 so most officials had to rise at the yin hour.16 As soon as the time arrived, Lin Qingyu washed and dressed, then woke Gu Fuzhou by pinching his nose and cutting off its airflow. “General, it’s time to go to court.”
Gu Fuzhou grabbed his blankets in agony. “I don’t want to, Qingyu. I don’t want to go to court.”
“What use is it to tell me that?”
Gu Fuzhou closed his eyes. “I’ve decided—I’m going to excuse myself. Or maybe I should just throw away my armor and become a farmer.”
Lin Qingyu ignored him and quickly pulled his blankets off, then summoned servants to help Gu Fuzhou wash up.
Morning crankiness made Gu Fuzhou’s expression shockingly grim. His cold expression was intimidating and kept everyone at arm’s length. Lin Qingyu ended up dismissing the servant girls in charge of dressing his husband and straightened out Gu Fuzhou’s official clothes himself.
Gu Fuzhou lowered his head to watch Lin Qingyu focus on tying his belt, and most of his crankiness disappeared. “Will you walk me to court, Qingyu?” he asked.
Lin Qingyu glanced at him. “You still need someone to walk with you? How old are you?”
Gu Fuzhou didn’t feel at all embarrassed. “I’ve heard Wu Zhan say that his wife walks with him anytime he leaves home, and anytime he returns home, he can eat her homemade soup. I admire them so much. Of course, I care about you too much to let you cook. After all, Physician Lin’s hands are for doing more important things.”
As Gu Fuzhou talked, Lin Qingyu picked up the general’s hat. After a few attempts, he found that he couldn’t reach Gu Fuzhou’s head. “Bend down.”
Gu Fuzhou lowered his head so Lin Qingyu could put on the hat.
Lin Qingyu looked him over. “I’ll walk you to court.”
Gu Fuzhou froze, then laughed. “I was joking. It’s cold out. All you need to do is wait for me here.”
Lin Qingyu put on his snow-white fox-fur coat. “Stop with the pointless babbling. Let’s go.”
Laughing quietly to himself, Gu Fuzhou followed him. “Qingyu, do you know how people would say that in my hometown?”
“How?”
“Stop yapping.”
“I’ll remember that,” Lin Qingyu said. “But don’t you dislike it when I speak your hometown’s dialect?”