Fang Chuning turned back absently, his eyes unfocused. He was in the dazed helplessness of drunkenness, completely unaware of what he was doing or how perilous his situation was. The city wall was so high that one misstep would send him plumting to his death, shattering him entirely—no matter how invincible a Great General he was, it would be beyond him.
Xie Jue’s voice trembled ever so slightly, "Anning, co down!"
Even though Fang Chuning was intoxicated, he still recognized who stood before him. He grinned foolishly at him, like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boy seeing the one who had stolen his heart for the first ti. Joyfully, he leapt from the city wall, arms outstretched toward Xie Jue, who strode forward to catch him.
Fang Chuning embraced him, while Xie Jue planted one foot back to withstand the force of his montum, encircling him with his arms, holding the armored man securely in his embrace.
"Ting Feng, I feel so miserable."
He sounded as though he’d suffered an unfathomable grievance, desperate for solace. From childhood to adulthood, Xie Jue had never heard Fang Chuning use such a pitiful tone to act childishly with him. Even if it was just a performance, Fang Chuning had never been this plaintive before. The sound of it filled Xie Jue with sorrow as well, so he could only gently stroke his back.
"It’s alright," Xie Jue said softly. "Sleep it off, and everything will be fine."
A short distance away on the city wall, there were still guards watching. They were curious and had been stealing glances for a while. They were inquisitive, but too wary to stare openly. And now, seeing the two of them in an embrace, their gazes lingered. These guards were soldiers from Lanzhou, not as accustod to such scenes as the Ningzhou Iron Cavalry. Xie Jue didn’t want anyone seeing Fang Chuning in this state, so he half-supported, half-embraced him as they descended from the wall.
By the inner city riverbank to the east of the wall, Xie Jue helped him sit on the stone steps. Fang Chuning, dizzy from the alcohol, leaned against him. Xie Jue didn’t say much, only using his fingers to press gently on the acupoints at the side of Fang Chuning’s head, trying his best to make him feel more comfortable.
"What have I done wrong? Why, from childhood to now, has my father always looked at with such cold disinterest? The Marquis once told that my father’s harshness was ant to push to grow worthy. I earned a place in the Ningzhou Iron Cavalry at a young age, made countless achievents in battle—and yet I’ve never received a single word of praise from him. What must I accomplish to truly prove myself worthy of his severity? Must I return wrapped in horsehide to assert my loyalty and filial piety?" Fang Chuning’s voice was overflowing with heartbreak.
Such words pierced Xie Jue’s heart just from hearing them.
Generals were superstitious; they couldn’t bear to hear such talk.
"Anning, you’ve never done anything wrong—never." Xie Jue said softly, "In my eyes, you are an unbeatable, peerless General of loyalty and valor."
He knew he could not quell the unrest tangled in Fang Chuning’s heart. If the Great Marshal and Fang Chuning were truly a pair of father and son who loathed each other to the bone, that would make things easier—but Xie Jue knew the truth. Fang Chuning’s repeated defiance toward the Great Marshal, his wild arrogance, was nothing more than the lashing out of a son driven to frustration by a father’s rigid indifference. In front of others, Fang Chuning was always polite and knew his place, but when it ca to the Great Marshal, he remained a perpetually rebellious child. From childhood to adulthood, all Fang Chuning had ever wanted was his father’s recognition and praise—even if he’d die before admitting it.
Years ago, the Great Marshal once casually ntioned, in passing, that once the Beiman conflict was resolved, he would have Fang Chuning guard Jiangnan. It wasn’t even an official decree, rely a hint in a letter. Yet Fang Chuning had been elated for months. In his mind, being assigned to defend Jiangnan and carry on his father’s legacy was the ultimate acknowledgnt.
So, when he triumphed and returned to the capital years ago, Fang Chuning had been giddy, telling Xie Jue about their plans to guard Jiangnan together. Xie Jue hadn’t the heart to dampen his spirits.
The evening breeze scattered the lingering scent of alcohol. Fang Chuning had sobered up considerably, as he’d never been deeply drunk to begin with—he simply didn’t want to wake from this tender refuge. He knew Xie Jue hadn’t been lying to him.
In Xie Jue’s eyes, he truly was exceptional—better than anyone else!
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