HE With the Cold Male Protagonist C49

Chapter 49: Inside the Carriage, a Secret Painting

Jiang Baiye chuckled lowly. “Lizhi, you’re so tender. How can a man be this tender?”

Lu Lizhi’s expression shifted slightly, and he swiftly pulled away the hand that had slipped around his waist, feeling him so intently.

“But I like it so much,” Jiang Baiye mumbled, drunk and slumped in his arms, his voice muffled as though talking to himself. “How could I like you this much…”

This man—how could he speak so many sweet words? No matter how many times Lu Lizhi heard them, his heart would always leap. His thin lips pressed together, he tried to rise and move away from him.

But Jiang Baiye tugged at his robes and pulled him straight into his embrace. “Be good, don’t move. I won’t do anything to you.”

Lu Lizhi froze completely, lowering his head only to see that hand still restlessly moving about. His breath was warm and chaotic at his ear. In the dim carriage, swaying with the jolts of the road, it felt as if the noise of the world outside was drowned out, buried under wave after wave of something heavier.

Whether it was the overly ambiguous atmosphere, or those hesitant touches—wanting to touch yet not daring—that left him tense and stirred, Lu Lizhi suddenly felt his body reacting oddly. Alarmed, he caught Jiang Baiye’s hand, felt that hot, calloused palm, and tightened his grip.

The next instant, his face was caught and an urgent kiss descended.

Up front, the coachman was focused on guiding the horses. Though he knew this road well and it was broad and even enough, driving at night was never safe. He feared someone might dart out, or that the horses might stumble into a ditch.

Yet the sounds coming from the carriage behind him kept breaking his focus. Was it the drunken man making a racket? Those faint noises rose and fell, sounding rather strange.

Hard to imagine how such a quiet scholar could withstand such a boisterous fellow.

The coachman shook his head, just about to make a turn, when—“Bang!”—a loud crash sounded from the carriage, startling him. Were they fighting back there?

Jiang Baiye, dazed, touched his head, blinking at the man opposite as if clueless. “It hurts…”

Lu Lizhi looked at him apologetically, rubbed his fingers, and massaged the spot he’d bumped. Then he heard the belatedly aggrieved voice: “Lizhi, are you trying to murder your husband?”

Lu Lizhi fell silent, recalling the strange reaction from moments ago—something he had never experienced. Fear tugged at him.

Even he was not fully familiar with this body of his. He had never felt inferior because of it, but neither had he admitted or accepted it. He had only ever wished to keep it hidden forever—that was enough.

But tonight its presence was overwhelming, reminding him of something he could no longer ignore.

He, too, had that kind of need.

“Sorry…” Jiang Baiye, sensitive to the shift, realized he had once again pressed a boundary. Guilt made him open his mouth—only to be silenced by Lu Lizhi’s hand.

Lu Lizhi shook his head. It was he who ought to apologize—unable to respond to him. This was Jiang Baiye, burning with passion, forced again and again to snuff out his fire because of his reluctance.

Thinking of his dejected look, so pitiful, Lu Lizhi’s chest felt pricked all over. He could only lean forward and hug his waist tightly.

Jiang Baiye’s heart itched at the embrace, joy swelling greater than any physical pleasure. He caught Lu Lizhi’s hand and pressed it to his chest.

At first Lu Lizhi stiffened, but then thought—if he couldn’t respond directly, perhaps he could in another way…

Only, Jiang Baiye placed something in his hand. By the fleeting moonlight, he saw it was a banknote.

A full five thousand taels!

“This is the salary I’m handing over to my wife…”

Lu Lizhi already knew “wife” here meant the same as “spouse.” But as for handing over money—he thought he could support himself and didn’t need to be provided for.

Before he could refuse, Jiang Baiye had fallen fast asleep, no amount of shaking could rouse him.

Helpless, Lu Lizhi carefully folded the note and put it away, lest in his drunken state Baiye lose it. He would return it when he sobered.

All through the jolting ride, Jiang Baiye felt as if he were nestled against Lizhi’s cool, fragrant chest. The faint cold scent lulled him into a deep and contented sleep.

By dawn, when he woke and thought of their still uncertain future, Jiang Baiye rose with fighting spirit, ready to get to work.

But stepping out, he was startled by the sight awaiting him.

“Father… Mother?”

The two sat solemnly in chairs, facing the door to his room like guardian deities, clearly waiting.

“Kneel!” Madam He’s tone, stricter than ever before, rang out.

Realizing what they meant to discuss, Jiang Baiye dropped straight to his knees with a thud, the sound heavy and sincere enough to make them nearly waver with pity.

“Forgive me, Father, Mother. I cannot marry a wife and bear children for you. I cannot give you grandchildren…” Jiang Baiye’s voice was firm, sincere, leaving no room for compromise. Both parents felt a deep ache.

It wasn’t just about grandchildren. If he left no descendants, what future awaited him?

“Have you thought this through?”

“I have Lizhi. That’s enough,” Jiang Baiye said, eyes softening with tenderness. “I only want him. Nothing else. Without him, life has no meaning. Please understand… because I will spend my whole life to win him, to have him!”

They were stunned. Such dominance, such resolve.

“So you forced him?” Jiang Dazhu concluded. He knew his son’s nature, and he knew Lu Lizhi’s too. Most parents would assume their precious child was bewitched by some fox spirit.

But in Jiang Dazhu’s eyes, it was his own son who was the fox spirit!

He rose angrily. “He’s a fine young scholar, the top candidate of the exam! If he wins the next one, his future is boundless. And you’ve dragged him into this mess. Do you think you’ve done right by him?”

Baiye hadn’t expected this turn. Then his mother, even angrier, seized a cane and lashed it on the chair. “If I don’t beat you, you’ll forget your place! You’ll ruin such a good person as Lizhi!”

Baiye: “…” He hadn’t even ruined him yet.

“If I were Lizhi’s parents, I’d be furious enough to rise from the grave!” Certain it was their scoundrel who had “bent” him, Madam He lashed him once more.

Seeing they weren’t blaming Lizhi, Baiye was thrilled, even urging them, “Go ahead, hit me more. Vent your anger!”

But Madam He couldn’t bear it, pointing instead to the main hall with a sigh. “When Lizhi sent you home last night, he knelt right there and kowtowed to us.”

Baiye’s breath caught. “He, out of nowhere…”

“Who else but you caused it!” Jiang Dazhu slammed the table. “You don’t want children, but did you think about whether he does? You won’t understand the happiness of parenthood until you’re one yourself. He’s alone, and you’re never at home. Do you know how much he longs for family?”

Baiye clenched his fists. That longing was undeniable. He only hid it under indifference, pretending not to care. But Baiye had seen him crying in his sleep, heart-wrenching sobs. His chest twisted with pain.

“Then… what should I do?” For the first time, he looked to them helplessly.

“Why not marry quickly? That way he’ll have parents, and we’ll have another son—an accomplished one at that!” Madam He clapped her hands, thrilled.

“As for children, you can adopt from kin. His grandfather, the village head, came from elsewhere, with relatives still around. His mother was a rich man’s daughter. There’ll be a way.”

The more they thought, the more they felt their son was unworthy. Compared to Lizhi’s background and talent, he fell far short. They must bind him tightly. What if Lizhi left?

Baiye: “…” Watching them swing from anger to fretting he’d be abandoned, even scheming on his behalf.

The truth was, they hadn’t slept a wink last night. They had thought it through. They knew his nature too well.

Having struggled in their own early years with childlessness, they were less rigid about descendants.

For the rest, they were quirky enough to accept.

“At noon, invite Lizhi for a meal. I’ll cook myself. This meal is special—it must be my hand at the stove!” Madam He declared solemnly.

Seeing they truly accepted, not reluctantly, Baiye’s heart was deeply moved. He only wished to repay them a thousandfold.

Meanwhile, Lu Lizhi sat on his bed, still in yesterday’s clothes. He hadn’t slept either.

He thought of their reactions, whether they could overcome this obstacle. In the worst case, would they no longer even be friends…

Just then, a joyous voice rang out from next door: “Lizhi! Lizhi! My parents want you at lunch. I’m off to the workshop, but you must come! Mother says she’ll cook your favorite—”

“You brat, don’t spoil my surprise!” Madam He came rushing out with vegetables, kicking him.

Baiye’s hearty laughter carried over, and Lizhi’s lips curved. The torment of the long night melted into joy and steady warmth.

How fortunate he was, to have met this family.

He rose slowly, bathed, and changed into his best attire. This meal, after all… was it not like meeting the in-laws?

Baiye hummed on his way to the workshop, his cheer so obvious that passing villagers smiled and greeted him.

But at the workshop, he issued urgent orders.

“There’s no time. Break the old plan. We must start operations quickly. Masters, please train everyone as fast as possible!”

Ding Yue, Master Qian, Little Qian, Master Wang, and Master Guo all grew solemn. “Understood. Three days should suffice.”

“I’ll fetch herbs for you to practice with.” Just then, Fang Li rushed in, flustered. “Strangers outside—tall, burly men—demand to see you!”

The masters tensed. Memories of the ambush lingered.

“Don’t panic,” Baiye said calmly. If he guessed right…

Sure enough, it was Steward He from yesterday. Baiye smiled wryly. “Your gatekeeper is rather jumpy. I hadn’t finished speaking before he bolted.”

Steward He’s words carried a hint. Baiye thanked him. “Might you help me find more men? Guards, doorkeepers, stewards—anyone decent of character, skills can be taught.”

“Your standards aren’t high,” Steward He muttered, though troubled. The two men he’d brought today had taken much effort to recruit—yet the master and young master had given them away without hesitation.

He introduced four men, producing their contracts. “An Rong, a veteran, scarred but honest. Family gone, with nothing to lose, and skilled in arms though taciturn.

“An Hua—two sisters once pursued by a tyrant. He killed the scoundrel, and though praised, his family was hunted. They sold themselves to our household. Now his sisters are married, years have passed. No trouble should follow.”

Baiye studied him. An impulsive face—but when asked to show his skill, he lifted a stone roller with one finger.

Innate strength! Perhaps even able to wrestle a bear. Truly a fine hand.

The last two, An Fu and An Gui, had their own talents—one swift, one leaping high. Baiye thought: Good heavens, I’m recruiting athletes.

Together, they could join him in the mountains, self-sufficient, with no ties. The He family had chosen well, and quickly. A good sign—they likely accepted his proposal.

His mood brightened. Testing their character, he found them honest, neither sycophantic nor evasive of their past. He accepted their contracts.

Of course, he paid in full. Compared to dubious hires from the markets, these were well worth their price—one hundred taels each.

Baiye coughed lightly. “May I pay when I next visit Huichun Hall?”

“Of course,” Steward He said, though puzzled. Hadn’t he just gotten five thousand taels yesterday? Already spent?

But Baiye only thought of earning more for his “wife.” He’d planned to hire mercenaries, but the Hes insisted on buying outright, binding them securely. It was safer.

He agreed. Even for other posts, he preferred loyal men.

With four more mouths, he gave them money to buy supplies in town.

They, surprised and grateful, said they still had a few taels saved. They had worked in the He household, but never had such treatment.

Baiye assured them: “We provide room and board. Maybe not luxurious, but guaranteed. Buy bedding, rice, flour. Vegetables, buy local—support the village. Occasionally, add meat. Once every three days, two meat dishes, otherwise three dishes and a soup.”

Moved, they nearly wept. Their pay was double what they’d had before. The future seemed bright, even lessening their fear of the mountains.

Still, meals and lodging only applied to those far from home. Villagers went home to eat. Noon breaks lasted an hour. Days ran from dawn to dusk. Baiye knew it was strict, but with summer’s “heat stipend,” workers were happy.

As he planned, he realized he’d soon need cooks.

His mind whirred with details—rules, schedules, wages—testing and adjusting as needed.

By then, he was impatient to get home.

Seeing his parents busy in the kitchen, he shushed the dog and vaulted the wall into Lu Lizhi’s courtyard.

By the window, he saw the bamboo he had transplanted had grown tall, shielding him. Stealthily, he crept closer.

Inside, Lizhi was at the desk, carefully unrolling a painting. His fingers caressed the center of the paper, tender and intent.

Baiye’s heart skipped.

What painting was this, to draw such an expression?

Jealousy pricked. Lizhi had never looked at him so. He tossed a bamboo leaf to get noticed.

But Lizhi did not stir, only stared more intently.

Irritated, Baiye scattered dirt clods. Still no reaction. Finally, Lizhi rolled it up.

As he turned away, Baiye lunged, snatching the painting with a dangerous grin. “What’s this painting? Let me see!”

Startled, Lizhi rushed forward and grabbed it back, hugging it tightly to his chest.

Baiye: “…”

Author’s Note:
I don’t dare write it, I don’t dare write it…