Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 15

The night was deep, and even on a summer night, the temperature had dropped sharply.

With half the time still remaining before the deadline He Lang had set, Zhen Puyang, wearing the same silk robe he had donned casually during the day, was pressed against the wall. The cold was slowly seeping into his skin.

The night was chilly and eerily quiet, with no one around to clean or serve tea. The solitude felt even more pronounced.

Zhen Puyang stared at the empty wall, reflecting as He Lang had suggested, but after such a long time, he couldn’t feel any fault in himself.

If it were anyone else who had dared to speak to him with such disrespect or provocation, he would have skinned them alive by now. Instead, he merely retorted and was still punished.

He hated his hypocritical younger brother, who was so submissive in front of Teacher but showed a different face behind his back. It made him want to tear off his face in rage.

What capabilities did he have? Was he merely skilled at disguise? Zhen Puyang was filled with discontent and realized the danger of such a person.

It was fortunate that he had endured for so many years, letting everyone think he was gentle and respectful. This instance of plotting could not be seen as genuine by others. He was always known for his unreasonable behavior, and in common people’s minds, the fault would inevitably be attributed to him.

Perhaps due to fatigue, Zhen Puyang yawned, his eyes moist. The occasional tears, coupled with his stubbornness and grievance, overwhelmed him with a crushing weight.

He had never realized he could be so weak, with tears flowing so naturally. Any hint of distrust from Teacher felt like a series of sharp needles pricking his heart.

After standing for so long, his body was exhausted. He decided to sit on the floor against the wall. As soon as he sat down, his weariness deepened, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. He leaned slightly, sneezing once, and the image of Teacher’s final gaze lingered in his mind.

Little did he know, all along, there had been a figure in the courtyard, silent and motionless, watching the boy facing the wall.

Only when the boy fell asleep did He Lang’s expression show any change. How could a prince lie on the cold floor of the courtyard?

He quickly fetched a soft, plush blanket, spreading it out and wrapping the boy, who was leaning against the wall. He intended to pat his face to wake him and bring him back to the bedroom, but found his cheek icy cold.

He Lang was alarmed and furrowed his brow deeply, feeling very uneasy. He gently wrapped the boy in the blanket and carried him.

If this child caught a chill, not only might the emperor be displeased, but He Lang himself would also have trouble with his conscience.

He moved very softly, trying not to disturb the boy, wanting only to take him back to the bedroom for proper rest. However, the boy was not so unobservant. As soon as He Lang touched him, he tensed up, but upon sensing the familiar presence, he relaxed.

As he was lifted, Zhen Puyang sniffled and pressed his cheek against He Lang’s chest.

He Lang thought it was due to the sneeze and became more certain that he had caught a cold. He blamed himself for not stopping earlier and decided that, upon returning, he must make sure the prince drinks some ginger tea.

Wrapped in the warmth of He Lang, Zhen Puyang’s cold body quickly warmed up. His numbed limbs revived instantly as he was enveloped in the comfortable embrace.

The view was He Lang’s chest, with his beautifully shaped neck above, and his scent all around. This unprecedented intimacy made Zhen Puyang’s heart race intensely.

Most of his emotions earlier had been anger and resentment, but now he felt a strong impulse to cry.

Hadn’t this person misunderstood him and punished him? Why was he here? Wasn’t it enough for two hours?

Unfortunately, Zhen Puyang was now overwhelmed by drowsiness, his mind clouded, his eyes hazy, and he babbled incoherently as he tried to explain.

“He’s tired,” He Lang said softly, pressing his finger to Zhen Puyang’s lips. With a comforting smile, he gently smoothed Zhen Puyang’s disheveled hair and answered, “I understand. I know you’re strong-willed, but you wouldn’t insult someone without reason.”

He Lang’s eyes showed warmth. Although his prince was often labeled a troublemaker and described as mischievous and unruly, He Lang felt that the boy’s heart was truly pure—straightforward and without guile, his likes and dislikes evident and direct.

While the prince’s nature was good, it could become a disadvantage on his path to becoming an emperor. Such a nature made him vulnerable to manipulation by others who could exploit his emotions and disrupt his plans.

However, this wasn’t an issue for now, as He Lang would do his best to clear any obstacles for his prince. He only hoped that once he left this world, the prince would still act meticulously.

He Lang caressed Zhen Puyang’s hair, showing a hint of concern. He wished his prince could always remain so innocent, but it was time for him to grow up. After all, growing up often involves becoming someone one initially despised.

Hearing He Lang’s words, Zhen Puyang softened, feeling a sense of relief, though he still asked with some irritation, “Then why—?” Was the punishment intentional?

Seeing the sullen face finally returning to normal, He Lang adjusted the blanket around him and held the tall, awkward prince. Zhen Puyang was no longer a child, and carrying him was quite a task, but thankfully, He Lang was not entirely powerless.

He took a deep breath, carrying the large prince while explaining, “I’m not punishing you for insulting Ren’er, but for your impulsiveness.”

He understood that Puyang wasn’t as simple as he appeared, and though there might be some disappointment, it wouldn’t affect his dedication to the prince.

“A gentleman must remain calm… You need to learn to control yourself and conceal your emotions, so others can’t see your thoughts and exploit them to manipulate you.”

He Lang spoke gently, including some minor details. 

“Although I don’t know what that child said to you—”

Zhen Puyang, feeling guilty, clutched at He Lang’s chest, nodding in agreement.

He listened attentively without showing any signs of weariness.

With his ear pressed against He Lang’s chest, feeling the gentle vibrations as he spoke, Zhen Puyang experienced an unprecedented calm, believing that everything He Lang said was right and reasonable.

The moonlight cast a silver glow over the sky, illuminating the distant heavens, while the moonlight on earth cleared their path, making the palace’s finely carved corridors appear hazy.

Fortunately, He Lang’s vision was good enough to see even without lights. The quiet palace at night was lonely but had its own charm, and both men wished time could slow down so they could fully appreciate this rare moment.

Zhen Puyang snuggled in He Lang’s arms, the soft blanket covering his face and making it itch. He couldn’t help but smile, calling softly, “Teacher.”

“Mm?” He Lang glanced up at the moon, which seemed to change with their steps, responding with a single sound.

“It’s so cold…” Zhen Puyang, noticing that He Lang’s gaze was not on him, called out again, hinting that he needed attention.

“Mm.” He Lang looked down, tightening his arms around the blanket and Zhen Puyang.

Satisfied, Zhen Puyang smiled and rested his head against He Lang’s not-too-thick chest, inhaling his light scent. The gentle swaying as He Lang walked warmed his frozen limbs, which also made him drowsy, and he fell asleep in He Lang’s arms.

He Lang carried Zhen Puyang back to his chambers, but Zhen Puyang refused to let go.

The night was dark, and the lamp-bearing maid, who had served the prince for many years, knew the subtle dynamics and feared the prince might wake. She gently urged He Lang to stay and rest.

Reluctantly, He Lang undressed and rested with Zhen Puyang, sharing the blankets and enjoying a night of peaceful dreams.

The next day, the lamp-bearing maid was promoted.

Zhen Puyang, satisfied, rolled over in bed and leaned over the still-sleeping He Lang, with warm light in his eyes. His slender fingers gently brushed He Lang’s eyebrows and eyes. “Let’s see how much you will spoil me.”

After receiving his constant care and concern, Zhen Puyang rarely wanted to respond. He thought hard but couldn’t figure out how to win his favor.

Though he had never cared much for the throne, since Teacher wanted him to take it, he might try. The condition would be that He Lang should always treat him with the same tenderness, ideally for a lifetime.

**Author’s Note:**

I’ve been really angry about the previous chapters. All the complaints are from Chapter 2 comments, and it seems no one reads the main text. I’m the one controlled and still get scolded. I’ve explained in many comments, and it’s exhausting. Is it that the first chapter’s protagonist must be all-powerful and invincible for it to be satisfying?

Sigh, I find myself easily angered. Friends tell me not to respond, but I can’t help it. It’s frustrating to be misunderstood as a type I dislike. Thanks to Yaoguang Yini for the support and the rewards from Shengong and Yun Huahua. I’ll keep working hard.