MFMH C89

Chapter 89 — The Scar

“Changfeng…” After half a year of abstinence, Shen Yanbei, finally indulging, hugged his husband’s broad, sensual back and sighed with satisfaction, his fingertips lingering indulgently on that supremely pleasant skin.

Gu Changfeng lay on his side, unusually languid, resting on the pillow. The corners of his eyes were slightly reddened; the afterglow of their passion had not yet faded, his body still exquisitely sensitive. Shen Yanbei’s light caresses made him tremble; the stirring that had just subsided rose again, and the ear warmed with fresh color.

Watching him, Shen’s own body flushed; heat spread through him. But his husband had just come down from the battlefield and needed rest and recuperation to command well. Reluctantly, Shen planned to touch him just once more and then let go. His fingertips, however, brushed over an uneven patch of skin.

Shen Yanbei traced it carefully; his heart jumped. All amorous thoughts evaporated.

It was a scar — ten-odd centimeters long — along the flank of his waist.

The peculiar sensation of touching that scar drew a sharp, immediate tension through Gu Changfeng’s body; he suddenly stiffened and showed signs of visible unease.

Shen loved his husband’s body. Now there was an ugly scar on it…

“How did you get hurt?” Shen’s brows knit as he inspected the brutal mark in the dim candlelight.

He had once naively believed that with Gu’s superior martial skill he would not be wounded, but reality delivered two hard slaps to his face.

“I…” Gu Changfeng looked at him anxiously. “There was a recruit who played dead on the battlefield and was discovered by the enemy — they were about to kill him, so I blocked a blade for him.” He spoke solemnly and then assured, “Don’t worry. I won’t let any scars remain on my body again.”

Shen frowned.

He promised not that he would avoid injury next time, but that he would not let scars be left on his body. What did that mean?

Gu swallowed and looked at Shen with cautious eyes.

“Does it still hurt?” Shen reached out and stroked the scar, his heart aching. In the camp of men, with a shuang’er like his husband wounded, the treatment would have been the standard rough military care — medics, bandaging done by fellow soldiers, whatever was at hand.

Gu hurriedly shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Shen’s expression remained stern. “On the battlefield blades know no faces; you must measure what you can bear. I don’t want you to trade your safety for the lives of those ungrateful recruits who lack awareness.”

“They mustn’t make this a habit.” He would be soft toward his husband in many ways, but when it came to those cowardly, naïve recruits he had little patience — let them fend for themselves.

“…Alright.” Gu replied dully.

Shen cupped his face and spoke earnestly: “I’m not forbidding you from saving people. But those men live on luck — if he dodged death once, he’ll think he can do it again; the second time, the third time, until one day he’s discovered and loses his life.”

“Those people treat their lives as nothing; they’re not responsible for themselves. Why would you take that responsibility onto your shoulders? It’s not worth it.”

“I know, but…” Gu lowered his eyes. “I want them all to return alive to see the ones who mean most to them.”

Shen paused; his heart softened unbearably.

How could his husband be so beloved by people?

“Fine,” Shen sighed. “I respect how you feel.” He looked at the offending scar. “Still, like I said: do your best, measure your strength, and be at peace with your conscience.”

“Mm.” Gu looked up and met his gaze. “There are ointments in the palace that fade scars. Once we return to the capital I’ll ask the Emperor for some…”

What a strange idea. Shen wondered. Gu was not vain — why worry about removing a scar?

He watched Gu’s expression closely and saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes.

An absurd thought rose in Shen’s mind.

“Why do you want to remove it? Because it’s ugly? Or because you’re afraid I’ll dislike it?” Shen fixed his gaze on Gu, not letting him look away.

Gu opened his mouth, like a child admitting guilt, and said with contrition, “I’m afraid you won’t like it.” Compared to other soft, gentle shuang’ers, he did not present an especially pretty face; his only advantage was the strong, hardy body — the broad chest, the muscular limbs — and that very body happened to be something Shen adored.

Shen could still recall, after his illness, how intensely fascinated he had been by Gu’s physique.

The thought nearly made him laugh angrily.

“You don’t actually think I like you only because of your body, do you?”

Gu didn’t answer, but his eyes supplied the reply.

Shen remembered how, when he first transmigrated, he had behaved like a lecher: groping Gu, ogling his chest, buttocks, and legs; he had even bled from the nose from lust. He blushed now.

And during intimacy, he had behaved like a man possessed by the body — no wonder Gu drew this mistaken conclusion.

“It’s my fault.” Shen cleared his throat. “It’s true that your body is very attractive to me and excites me greatly…”

“But Changfeng, even the most beautiful shell will rot in time.” Shen’s gaze turned serious and tender. “The finest body will one day age; only this —” he pressed Gu’s hand to his own chest, under clothing — “will not change.”

Gu’s pupils fluttered. Shen held Gu’s hand to his heart; through the thin flesh he could feel the steady heat and reliable pounding of the muscle below.

Thump, thump, thump — his own heartbeat matched the rhythm.

Leaning forward, Gu brushed Shen’s lips with his, full of remorse. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suspected you were so shallow.”

Shen touched his nose. “This time I’ll let it go; next time…”

He glanced at the hourglass; it was late, and soldiers would soon patrol. Gu needed to return to his tent. Shen rose, fetched water, wrung a cloth dry and handed it to Gu to wipe himself. Camp life offered no luxuries; there were no bath tubs for officers, only the rough accommodations of men. He would put up with it for his husband.

“I can do it myself,” Gu rasped, face flushed, and gripped Shen’s hand. Even after the intimacy they had shared, he felt embarrassed to let Shen do such a personal task.

“You can’t reach your back; I’ll wipe it for you.” Shen did not hesitate.

Had his husband truly thought Shen loved him only for his body? Perhaps because they had skipped courtship and gone straight to declaring their relationship?

…

“All done.” Shen handed Gu one of his own undershirts to change into. The battle had ravaged their clothing; both were dressed in torn garments.

Reluctantly stepping into clothing perfumed faintly with Shen’s scent, Gu drew a flush across his face. Shen unexpectedly lifted Gu’s robe, planted a kiss on the scar, startling him.

After straightening his garments, Shen said, “I won’t escort you back. Be careful.” As the Duke’s heir was still unmarried, it would be unbecoming for him to be seen sneaking out late at night from Shen’s tent; it might harm Gu’s reputation and disturb camp discipline.

Gu nodded and was about to leave when a sharp series of drumbeats split the night across the frontier encampment. Soldiers woke at once.

Shen’s brow knit. “Military news?”

Gu shot him a look and flung the tent flap open; Shen followed, but Gu had vanished into the gloom. Across from them a commander in leather armor stormed from his tent, cursing the barbarians, “Damn those barbarians! Won’t they let us sleep?!”

The camp immediately stirred; soldiers grabbed equipment and weapons and assembled at the drill ground. The Grand General Tai Qigang called the roll and ordered the right army’s General Li to prepare to depart.

An old veteran grumbled as they readied: “I finally ate a decent meal and it hasn’t even had a night in my belly before it’s gone! I ought to mince that damned bastard who took it — then the stew would be worthy of the meat!”

Shen found the heated tone odd.

The commanding officers gathered. Shen, as the imperial inspector, joined them. The atmosphere at the command tent had turned heavy. Tai Qigang remarked to the strategist with a scholar’s fan in hand, “If this continues, the troops will crack.”

The strategist, his brow carved with worry-lines, foresaw a major engagement looming. The barbarians’ trickery was wearing them down before a true battle had begun.

Discussion yielded no firm answer. Tai Qigang ordered intensified drills and attention to morale — to prevent a camp riot.

Shen listened closely and grew troubled. He tried to recall modern tactics for dealing with cavalry from books and recordings: strategies to blunt horsemen’s charges, formations and traps. But he was a civilian official unfamiliar with the army, and he had just arrived in this world — he could not rashly propose plans.

At dawn the right army returned — unsuccessful.

They had set out in force but the midnight raid had been like cat-and-mouse: the barbarians split into squads and fled in different directions. To avoid a trap General Li refused to scatter the troops and instead chased one contingent, which they killed, only to discover the main attack had been on Heishui City nearby; by the time Li’s force reached it, the barbarians had already sacked the place and ridden off. Li could only bite his lip and withdraw.

Every time they sought a decisive blow, they hit nothing but cotton. Frustration ran deep.

When the barbarians staged another deceptive raid the following day, a restless, irritable mood blanketed the entire camp. Soldiers stayed awake and went to the drill ground to practice their arms just to burn off the dread. Gu Changfeng felt the same grimness.

His face dark, eyes cold as blades, he spun his silver spear with fierce energy.

“Your servant greets the heir,” Shen said, stepping into the corner of the drill ground the young commander had claimed.

The unfamiliar form of address froze Gu mid-movement; his dark eyes fixed on Shen and he hesitated. “…Master Shen?” he answered.

Shen raised an eyebrow; the manner in which Gu had said “Master Shen” carried an odd weight that made Shen’s thoughts stray. He steadied himself and asked softly, “May I have a word?”

Gu put aside his spear and met him calmly. They locked eyes for a long moment; in the watchful glances of the other officers Shen lowered his voice and said, “I have a method to break our army’s passive posture…”