The Foolish General's Mute Spouse - Chapter 94

94: Lessons in Gratitude

Siqi didn’t go home right after school. Instead, he followed Song Cang and a few other young masters to a tavern for drinks.

Since there was no need to attend the Imperial College the next day, everyone was in high spirits. Siqi hadn’t initially planned to join them, but he thought he might be able to coax some information out of the drunken crowd. So when Song Cang pressed him a second time, he reluctantly agreed.

By the time he returned home in the evening, he reeked of alcohol. Fu Yu’an had been waiting in the main hall until almost hai hour (9–11 PM), growing increasingly furious. When he asked Siqi where he had been, the boy couldn’t give a proper explanation—only saying he had gone out for drinks. This infuriated the usually gentle Fu Yu’an so much that he broke his own rule and gave Siqi a beating.

The bamboo rod nearly split from the force.

“What kind of nonsense are you learning? Drinking and carousing like those wastrels? Look at the stains on your collar! Where did you go for drinks? A brothel?”

“No, it was just a girl who forced herself on me!”

“What girl? The scent of powder is so strong—was she selling rouge?”

“…No.”

Siqi accepted the punishment willingly, knowing that any explanation would fall on deaf ears. Fortunately, the thick winter padding took most of the blows—though his clothes were torn, he wasn’t seriously hurt.

At most, his skin was a little scraped.

After the beating, Fu Yu’an immediately regretted it. But he was too stubborn to admit it. He called for someone to help Siqi back to his room, then turned and left without another glance, afraid the boy might see the guilt and heartache in his eyes.

He had taken Siqi in all those years ago and had never once raised a hand against him, always reasoning with him patiently. But he never expected the boy to sneak off with those young nobles for drinks—without even a word!

And to come back reeking of perfume!

Utterly disgraceful!

Siqi was at that impressionable age, and Fu Yu’an feared he might succumb to temptation and sink into the mire of decadence.

“Ah!”

Raising a child was no easy task.

Tossing and turning in bed, he couldn’t sleep. Eventually, he got up, fetched some medicinal ointment, threw on an outer robe, and quietly made his way to Siqi’s room.

The lamp was still lit. When Fu Yu’an pushed the door open, he found Siqi twisting awkwardly, hissing in pain as he tried to apply medicine to his own back.

The bruises and welts looked horrifying.

Fu Yu’an’s heart ached with regret, blaming himself for losing control and hurting the boy so badly.

“Young Master…” Siqi called out weakly when he saw him enter, his voice full of grievance. “I know I was wrong. I’ll never go out drinking and fooling around with them again.”

Fu Yu’an sighed deeply, unscrewing the ointment jar to help apply it, his eyes brimming with remorse.

“It was my fault. I didn’t let you explain before punishing you so harshly. You’ve always been a sensible child—why did you suddenly go out drinking with them so late today?”

Siqi couldn’t very well say he had been gathering information, so he sniffled and gave a half-truth: “Song Cang insisted on dragging me along. Everyone else went, and I’m the newcomer to that class. I was afraid they’d think I didn’t fit in if I refused.”

The students in the top class were either brilliant or came from illustrious families—or both. They were all future officials, and the worst thing one could be was an outsider.

Fu Yu’an felt even worse. Lowering his head, he apologized. “I was wrong. I lost my temper and assumed the worst of you.”

“Don’t say that! I don’t blame you, Young Master!” Siqi hurriedly replied, wincing as the movement tugged at his wounds. “You saved my life back then, and all these years, you’ve sent me to school and taught me how to live rightly. I could never repay such kindness—how could I ever blame you?”

“I didn’t save you to demand repayment,” Fu Yu’an said. “I will never have children in this lifetime. At the time, I simply pitied you, and now I don’t want to see your potential wasted.”

His words were earnest, his expression sincere.

Siqi was moved to tears, silently vowing for the umpteenth time to repay the young master’s kindness.

Even though, for now, he could do nothing at all.

“Waaah, I was wrong! I’ll never come back this late again!” He buried his face in Fu Yu’an’s chest and wailed loudly—more thunder than rain.

Fu Yu’an still had medicine on his hands, and mindful of Siqi’s wounds, he didn’t move. After letting him cry for a while, he continued applying the ointment.

Under the lamplight, Siqi gazed at Fu Yu’an’s gentle features and couldn’t help but wonder—why had he suddenly left the general?

By all logic, the two should have been deeply in love. How could he have just up and left for a faraway place like Weizhou?

After some hesitation, Siqi finally spoke up: “By the way, young master, today General Qi came to me and said the ring was wrong—that I’d brought back the wrong one.”

Fu Yu’an froze, stammering, “W-Wrong? How could that be? Did he misidentify it?”

“I don’t know. I thought he must have mistaken it too, because the ring was engraved with the general’s name! If it wasn’t his, whose could it be?”

Fu Yu’an nodded with a faint smile. “He must have been mistaken.”

“But it was strange. The general was furious when he confronted me about it, but later he just held the ring and muttered to himself like he’d lost his mind. It was really odd.”

“…What did he say?”

“He said the ring was one of a pair he shared with his wife. Huh, young master, didn’t you say this kind of ring was common everywhere? Could it be that you also had one made when you married back then?”

Fu Yu’an opened his mouth to deny it, but—technically, Siqi wasn’t wrong.

So he had recognized the ring all along. But why had he only confronted Siqi about it today? Had he not noticed it before?

…Of course. After the pain I caused him, why would he still care about me the way he once did?

“I never married, and I never will,” Fu Yu’an said quietly. “But what about you? You’re not young anymore—is there any girl you fancy?”

Siqi ignored the second half of the question. “Why won’t you marry? You’re so handsome and kind—what girl wouldn’t like you?”

“…I’m not as good as you think,” Fu Yu’an replied after a pause. He figured it was best to be honest. “It’s just that I don’t happen to like women. Not marrying saves me from ruining someone else’s life.”

Siqi let out an exaggerated gasp.

This reaction left Fu Yu’an uneasy.

“Are you shocked? Or… disgusted? I’ve never told anyone before… But if you feel that way, it’s understandable. After all, it goes against moral principles…”

“No.”

“…That’s good.”

Suddenly, Siqi felt that this seemingly unshakable man—who single-handedly supported a household of servants and elders, who brought him all the way to the capital for his education—seemed fragile.

Perhaps he left because the world couldn’t accept him. After all, he was a prince.

Back then, maybe the Emperor had carelessly issued an edict for the marriage, and the general treated him poorly, driving him to leave the capital in sorrow.

Siqi knelt up, unsure how to convey his sincerity.

Fu Yu’an was sensitive—too many words would make it seem like he was overcompensating, but too few would let his thoughts spiral.

What a dilemma!

Fortunately, Fu Yu’an spared him the trouble, clearly unwilling to dwell on the topic. He stood and handed the medicine to Siqi before leaving the room.

Outside, the wind was cool, the moon dim. Only a few rooms glowed faintly behind their doors.