Chapter 449

Wei Duke Mansion.

Study.

The night dew had soaked the window lattice until it was cold.

The candle flame burned dimly, the lamp flower occasionally popping and exploding, casting the shadows of the full shelves of books onto the blue brick floor, swaying.

Chen Yan leaned in the rosewood chair, the hem of his dark brocade robes hanging casually on the ground, a pair of cloud-patterned black boots placed straight on the desk.

He rested the back of his head against the chair back, his gaze locked heavily on the caisson patterns on the ceiling. The patterns were as complex as a chess game, but they didn't enter his eyes at all.

She paused and said softly: "Husband, run slower, don't fall..."

The candle flame reflected the dark light surging in Chen Yan's eyes, and a low murmur rolled from his throat, repeating a certain name over and over, as if chewing on some highly poisonous thing: "Yuwen Yong, Yuwen Yong, Yuwen Yong..."

His knuckles tapped the chair armrest unconsciously, making a dull sound. Suddenly, the tapping stopped abruptly, his eyelashes lifted, a flash of ruthlessness crossed his eyes, and he muttered: "How should I kill this guy?"

Regardless of whether it is the same person, Yuwen Yong must die...

Chen Mouren will not leave hidden dangers for himself!

The candle flame jumped, stretching Chen Yan's shadow longer on the wall. He slowly closed his eyes, his long eyelashes casting shallow shadows under his eyes.

The previously taut jawline relaxed slightly, but it still couldn't hide the coldness all over his body.

His knuckles loosened and clenched again, his murmur was lighter than before, but carried a touch of dark determination: "Killing directly is definitely not possible..."

During the pause, his Adam's apple rolled, as if repeatedly deducing in his heart, and it was a long time before he continued in a low voice: "Must find a way for him that is subtle and looks like a natural death!"

The biggest difficulty in moving against Yuwen Yong is that without Father Grand Chancellor's consent, killing him rashly belongs to overstepping...

If he were truly "accidentally" killed like those two, it would be rushing to invite Father Grand Chancellor's suspicion...

The hidden danger would be gone, but his own future would also be gone.

Chen Yan raised his hand to rub his brow, his fingertips grinding over the gathered wrinkles, as if wanting to temporarily press down the ferocity between his brows, and exhaled a turbid breath with the smell of alcohol: "No need to rush for a moment..."

The voice was looser than before, but still carried a touch of heavy consideration.

His knuckles tapped the chair surface lightly, and he muttered: "Even that Emperor Wu of Zhou endured for twelve years; there won't be any action in a short time!"

When mentioning "twelve years," the tail sound paused deliberately, and the ferocity in his eyes was gradually suppressed by deeper restraint, leaving only a bit of cold light hidden under his eyelashes.

Even if the historical timeline begins to overlap, Chen Mouren still has plenty of time to let the current Emperor "die of old age"...

Chen Yan slowly opened his eyes, the residual alcohol in his eyes had dissipated for the most part, leaving only cold light sinking heavily. He raised his hand to stroke his chin, his fingertips scraping lightly over the skin where blue stubble had just emerged, and he pondered in his heart: "I must think about it carefully..."

Just then, "Clang, clang, clang—!" three sudden knocks on the door broke the silence of the study.

Chen Yan's gaze turned to the door panel with a "swish," pressing his voice, his tone showing no emotion, and he spat out a single word faintly: "Who?"

The knocking outside the door stopped abruptly, replaced by a woman's soft but probing voice—it was Pei Suiwan: "Husband, it's me!"

"Can I come in?"

Chen Yan raised his hand to tidy the hem of his slightly messy brocade robes, then said in a low voice to the outside: "Come in!"

When the words fell, he subconsciously withdrew the feet he had placed on the desk, hiding the casualness from just now.

The door panel was pushed open lightly with a "creak," and Pei Suiwan walked in slowly, supporting her waist. The moon-white skirt made her complexion look even more gentle.

Her bulging abdomen was already very obvious, and she walked with a soft beauty that was somewhat cautious.

She was carrying a gold-painted food box in her hand. When the hem of her skirt brushed the threshold, it swayed lightly, and the bright pearl on the jade hairpin in her hair trembled slightly with the movement, reflecting the candlelight and rippling with fine light.

Seeing Chen Yan look over, Pei Suiwan's eyes rippled with a soft smile, and she said: "Husband, I ordered someone to use old ginseng to slowly stew chicken soup over a low fire..."

As she spoke, she placed the food box lightly on the corner of the desk. When she lifted the lid, the steaming heat wrapped in a mellow fragrance drifted out.

She took the white porcelain bowl from the box, served a bowl of yellow chicken soup, carefully skimmed off the floating oil, and then handed it over with both hands: "Drink some while it's hot to warm your stomach!"

Chen Yan raised his hand to take it, the steaming heat blurring the coldness remaining in his eyes, and smiled: "Thank you, Madam!"

Immediately, he took a big sip, and the warm chicken soup slid down his throat, the mellow fragrance of the old ginseng spreading on the tip of his tongue.

Perhaps the warmth dispelled some of the gloom, his brows raised slightly, and he praised: "This soup is really good!"

Pei Suiwan sat down lightly on the low stool by the desk, her skirt gathered in front of her knees, her hand covering her bulging abdomen unconsciously.

She looked at her husband's side profile as he drank the soup, her gaze sliding from his slightly furrowed brows to his tightly pursed lips. A trace of worry gradually condensed between her brows, and her fingertips stroked the embroidery on her skirt unconsciously.

After a moment of silence, she spoke after deliberation, her voice lighter than before, carrying a touch of cautious probing: "Husband, I heard that the Grand Tutor demoted... transferred you to Magistrate of Wannian..."

She paused, deliberately softening her tone, fearing to touch her husband's worries, and finally asked softly: "Should our mansion act more low-key in the future?"

"Suiwan, set your heart at ease, no need to worry!"

Chen Yan drank another mouthful of chicken soup, placed the porcelain bowl lightly on the desk, and explained casually: "The Grand Chancellor's arrangement is not a demotion, but wanting me to temper my administrative skills..."

As soon as the words came out, she realized that what was asked was "refining pills." Her cheeks turned even redder, and she hurriedly waved her hand to change her words, her voice lowering a bit: "I know a little bit!"

Pei Suiwan blinked, the worry in her eyes gradually fading, replaced by a touch of determination.

She nodded lightly, her movements light but exceptionally solemn, and then raised her hand to cover Chen Yan's hand on the desk.

"No matter what position you are transferred to, whether it is in good times or difficult times, we are one as husband and wife, and I will accompany you through it!" The woman's voice was not high, but every word was clear, her gaze locked tightly on him, as if wanting to pass this feeling over completely.

After speaking, her fingers squeezed his hand lightly, and the smile rippling in her eyes was full of trust and support without asking for reasons.

At that moment, Pei Suiwan thought Chen Yan was making up reasons to comfort her, fearing it would affect the fetus...

After all, since ancient times, accompanying the monarch is like accompanying a tiger; a slight mistake can easily lead to total destruction.

And her husband had returned from Hezhou this time, having already achieved merits that overshadowed the master...

Seeing Pei Suiwan's beautiful eyes full of determination to "share the difficulties," Chen Yan was stunned for a moment, then shook his head helplessly, but a faint smile rippled at his lips.

He held the woman's hand back, his fingertips stroking the back of her hand lightly, his tone carrying a touch of gentle laughter: "Suiwan, A Ze was also transferred to Magistrate of Chang'an!"

He paused and continued: "The Grand Chancellor also let me hold the power of the Mingjing Si as before!"

He really married a good woman!

"Is that so?"

Hearing this, Pei Suiwan's beautiful eyes lit up, and she understood instantly. Her face was full of sudden realization, and her tone carried a touch of surprised trembling.

Immediately, she let out a sigh of relief and remarked with feeling: "The Grand Tutor is truly kind to you, Husband!"

If it were only her husband transferred, then it would probably be that the monarch's heart is hard to fathom...

But if A Ze was together with him, perhaps it was truly tempering!

Moreover, Wannian is in Chang'an; it seems the Grand Tutor is also unwilling to go far...

Chen Yan picked up the porcelain bowl and drank another mouthful of chicken soup. The warm heat spread over his heart, making the gentleness in his eyes deepen a few points. Looking at the flickering candle flame on the desk, his voice was light but full of feeling: "The Grand Chancellor is like a father to me, and for the future of A Ze and me, he can be said to have exhausted his heart..."

After speaking, he sighed lightly, his fingertips stroking the rim of the bowl lightly, his tone carrying a touch of melancholy and solemnity: "The grace owed to him is becoming harder and harder to repay!"

Precisely because of this, Yuwen Yong must die!

How could Chen Mouren sit by and watch Father Grand Chancellor die an unnatural death?

Pei Suiwan pursed her lips, full of agreement, her tone exceptionally serious: "We must be filial to him in the future!"

Chen Yan nodded lightly, the solemnity in his eyes gradually replaced by tenderness.

He stood up, walked around to Pei Suiwan, and slowly squatted down halfway, his movements extremely light, fearing to disturb something.

His palm first covered her bulging abdomen lightly. Only after feeling a trace of weak movement did he lean his ear against it, his breathing becoming calm.

In the silent study, only the light sound of the candle flame popping remained.

He listened for a moment before straightening up, his fingertips brushing Pei Suiwan's skirt hem lightly, his tone full of expectation: "In three more months, we will have a legitimate child..."

Pei Suiwan said a light "Hmm," and raised her hand to stroke Chen Yan's hair top lightly, her fingertips gently brushing the broken hair between his hair.

Her beautiful eyes were already filled with expectation.

If both were sons, that would be great...

"There must be one who is a boy!"

Chen Yan slowly raised his head, his gaze falling on Pei Suiwan's smiling face, then moved down to her abdomen, his palm covering it lightly, and said solemnly: "When he comes out, I will establish him as the Prince Heir!"

Chen Mouren will not favor the illegitimate over the legitimate.

Wen Run still stood in place, bowing. After hearing the question, he replied respectfully: "Your subordinate has some connections..."

Hearing this, Pei Suiwan's fingertips paused lightly. Suddenly, as if remembering something, a touch of joyful light rippled in her eyes, and she said softly: "Husband, I heard that the fertility pills of Guangji Temple are very effective, how about..."

Before she finished speaking, she was interrupted seriously by Chen Yan: "Touch those things less!"

Pills and such, how many emperors and generals ate this stuff and died...

Speaking of this, his fingertips suddenly paused, as if being hit violently by some thought, his eyes lit up suddenly, the previous seriousness instantly replaced by ecstasy: "Wait!"

"I have a way!"

Immediately, he stood up abruptly, slapped his big hand heavily on the desk, shaking the candle flame, and then tilted his head back and let out a burst of carefree laughter: "Hahahaha!"

Pei Suiwan was startled by this sudden movement, subconsciously shrank back, her hand supporting her abdomen tightened again, full of astonishment, and asked with a touch of worry and confusion: "Husband, what's wrong with you?"

"What way do you have?"

How does this look so much like a sudden hysterical attack?

He was happy in an unusual way...