The Foolish General's Mute Spouse - Chapter 67

67: Compromise

Naturally, Qi Ren was unwilling, but her words left him with no room for rebuttal.

Should he force his way in? But since she had said so, it must have been on Fu Yu’an’s orders. If he insisted on entering and ended up angering him further, what then?

Still, both of them were at fault in yesterday’s argument. If it had been him who fainted from anger, would Fu Yu’an have taken the initiative to reconcile?

Qi Ren stood at the door, glaring fiercely at Xiao Zhu.

Li Ke quickly stepped forward to pull Xiao Zhu aside. She resisted, shooting him a fierce glare. “What are you doing?”

“The General knows he was wrong. Isn’t he just trying to apologize? Why are you blocking him?” Li Ke whispered, tugging at her sleeve.

Xiao Zhu glanced at Qi Ren’s expression—there wasn’t a trace of remorse, only regret and frustration.

Li Ke sighed and forcibly dragged her away. Qi Ren snorted coldly and strode into the room.

Xiao Zhu was startled and reached out to stop him, but Qi Ren shot Li Ke a meaningful look. The latter immediately understood, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her aside while murmuring explanations about Qi Ren finally coming to his senses to apologize.

An arm couldn’t twist a thigh. If he was determined to force his way in, Xiao Zhu alone couldn’t stop him. All she could do was watch helplessly as the wooden door opened and closed again, Qi Ren flashing her a smug smirk.

The medicine Fu Yu’an had taken likely contained sedative properties, leaving him drowsy and sluggish.

He hadn’t heard the commotion outside. When footsteps approached, he assumed it was Xiao Zhu returning. Struggling to open his eyes, he stared blankly at the canopy and asked softly, “What time is it? Bring me some water.”

The sound of leather boots against wooden flooring was distinct, carrying a strange yet familiar weight.

He was too exhausted to think much of it and closed his eyes again.

From the outer room came the sound of water being poured. Moments later, a pair of hands gently lifted his back.

Something felt off—these hands were broad and strong, nothing like Xiao Zhu’s.

He turned his head and was met with a dark, stormy expression.

Qi Ren’s face looked terrible—whether he was still angry or not was unclear.

Fu Yu’an leaned into his hand and took a few sips of water. Droplets clung to his lips, which Qi Ren wiped away with his thumb.

It’s often said that sick people are fragile, and Fu Yu’an now understood this truth all too well. He suddenly realized how harsh his words from yesterday had been. Though they seemed considerate on the surface, just as Xiao Zhu had said, he had gone too far.

He still loves me now, and our attitudes toward relationships aren’t the same. How could I impose my own standards on him, planning things I thought were good and right?

Just as he was about to open his mouth to apologize, an almost imperceptible sigh reached his ears.

A gentle kiss landed on the corner of his eye, and the stubble on Qi Ren’s chin tickled his face faintly.

Fu Yu’an closed his eyes and let out a soft murmur. The man before him was so tender, a far cry from the furious Qi Ren who had pounded the table yesterday.

His heart softened again. Despite being so angry yesterday that he fainted on the spot, despite the bitter medicine and suffering, he still couldn’t stay hardened.

He had to admit—his feelings for Qi Ren weren’t as insignificant as he had thought.

“I want to apologize,” Qi Ren said quietly, his voice sincere. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you yesterday. I should have spoken properly instead of making you so upset you passed out.”

Fu Yu’an nestled in his arms and reached up to touch the stubble on his chin. “You’ve grown a beard? Xiao Zhu said you went out drinking last night. Does your head still hurt?”

Qi Ren took his hand and pressed a kiss to it. “The headache is my own fault. It’s been a while since I drank—my tolerance must have weakened.”

Fu Yu’an chuckled softly. “Alcohol harms the body. Drink less.”

“Mm,” Qi Ren agreed. Then he added, “If you hadn’t pushed me to take a concubine, I wouldn’t have needed to drown my sorrows in drink. Honestly, this is still on you.”

“……”

Fu Yu’an knew he was just being stubborn. He didn’t argue back, not wanting to reignite yesterday’s quarrel.

Qi Ren held him quietly, and for a long while, neither spoke. The atmosphere was warm.

After some time, Qi Ren sighed and slipped a hand under the blanket to clasp Fu Yu’an’s fingers. “I was too impulsive yesterday. But now, can you tell me honestly—why did you want me to take a concubine? If I really did and ignored you after, would you truly be happy?”

Fu Yu’an shook his head. “Of course I wouldn’t be happy. But we’re both men. We can’t have children.”

Qi Ren rested his chin atop Fu Yu’an’s head and exhaled slowly. “If only I could bear children. Then you wouldn’t have to suffer so much.”

Fu Yu’an burst into laughter at his words, but after a few breathless giggles, he dissolved into a fit of coughing.

Qi Ren patted his back to soothe him, half-amused. “What’s so funny?”

Fu Yu’an wheezed, “Since when can men bear children? You’re truly delusional!”

Qi Ren laughed too. “It was just a hypothetical! Why take it so seriously?”

Fu Yu’an kept laughing, and Qi Ren joined in. But then, mid-laughter, Qi Ren suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace.

Fu Yu’an froze, stiffening in his arms.

Qi Ren kissed his forehead, his tone tinged with bitterness: “I like you, Yu’an, only you! How about I don’t take any concubines? Just me accompanying you for a lifetime—wouldn’t that be good? Once things settle down, I’ll take you to Nanjiang. I have a large estate of my own there.”

Fu Yu’an listened quietly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“When the time comes, we’ll bring Mother along too, and we won’t have any ties to the General’s estate anymore. We’ll go south, and I’ll have the Emperor enfeoff you as a prince. I’ll serve as your subordinate in your fiefdom, and we’ll turn that estate into a princely residence—it’ll be magnificent!”

Fu Yu’an knew these were just empty words.

He could never be enfeoffed as a prince.

The current Emperor disliked him, and no matter who succeeded to the throne—whether the Crown Prince or Fu Yangyao—none would allow him to become a prince in a remote territory far from the capital.

He let out a soft laugh, whether self-mocking or otherwise.

Qi Ren fell silent, staring blankly at his eyelashes for a moment before explaining, “What are you laughing at? I’m serious!”

“Alright, alright!” Fu Yu’an suppressed his smile, though his eyes still held warmth. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

Qi Ren nodded, hugging him tightly and refusing to let go. Fu Yu’an had no choice. Drowsiness washed over him again, and he drifted off to sleep nestled in his arms.

…

Illness strikes like a collapsing mountain but fades like unraveling silk. Despite the herbal medicine and nourishing supplements, the sudden flare-up of liver fire left him bedridden and listless for several days.

Qi Ren was nearly consumed by guilt, tending to him day and night without rest, leaving little room for Xiao Zhu to assist.

“General… perhaps it’s better if this servant handles it! After all, I have more experience brewing medicine… don’t you think?” Xiao Zhu trailed behind him timidly, holding a palm-leaf fan, afraid he might repeat yesterday’s mistake of failing to control the heat properly.

Outside, the sunset dyed the sky in brilliant shades of crimson and gold. In the kitchen, Qi Ren, sleeves rolled up, struggled to fan the stove.

Even Auntie Ni, who was preparing New Year’s goods nearby, couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She smiled helplessly and chimed in, “Xiao Zhu is right. These tasks are better suited for someone with her experience!”