The Villain Slaps The Protagonist’s Halo - Chapter 62

Chapter 62: The Protagonist Must Die

Shi Chen's eyes trembled slightly, his breath warm as he held the person tightly in his arms.

"It's because of you that I have a soul." Nie Jia was deeply in love with him, constantly expressing his affection. He gently rubbed the calluses on Shi Chen's fingers, his tender voice resonating in his ears, stirring his heartstrings.

Shi Chen turned and enclosed Nie Jia's hand in his palm, placing a gentle kiss near his ear, his warm breath flooding the nape of Nie Jia's neck. "I never thought I could have you before."

For eighteen years, he had watched Little Prince Jing grow day by day. Not that he didn't dare to hope, but he had never entertained any presumptuous thoughts. The overwhelming feelings began just two months ago when he glanced up at Xuanwu Terrace upon his return to Zhuolu City. This emotion rushed in abruptly and intensely, catching him off guard. Fortunately, it seemed his king felt the same way.

The one who truly had his soul was him.

Nie Jia nestled in Shi Chen's embrace, their whispers of affectionate confession lingering like two beasts nurturing each other.

"What's this?" After their conversation, Shi Chen's attention was drawn back to the cold steel wristguard that had warmed against his skin.

He glanced and Nie Jia startled, "Careful!"

Triggered by Shi Chen's internal force, a steel needle shot out instantly. Shi Chen swiftly dodged, hearing a clank behind him—the bronze incense burner on the shelf had been pierced. If it had been a person standing there, they would have died instantly, unaware.

Nie Jia's face paled, his hand trembling as he pressed against Shi Chen's, "I'm fine."

"It's okay." Shi Chen comforted him at his back before examining the inconspicuous yet delicate item closely.

"This is for your protection, and the hidden weapons in it can be replenished." Nie Jia explained, showing him the wristguard. "Sikong Han has been reborn and harbors intense hatred toward you and me. He's aware of the Xuanjia's existence and will try to deal with you. And this." He jumped down and retrieved a simple and lightweight crossbow from a nearby bookcase, demonstrating its functionality by aiming at the incense burner that had been pierced earlier.

The arrow shot, penetrating the small burner while leaving the shelf intact—a testament to the enormous power of the compact crossbow. Even a sixteen-strength heavy bow might not compare!

For a moment, Shi Chen was astonished, gazing at Little Prince Jing's sparkling eyes, filled only with tender emotions. His king was doing everything to protect him.

"Don't worry about Sikong Han. Even without him, I'll make sure to protect myself for you." Shi Chen held Nie Jia's hand firmly, gazing at him affectionately and solemnly.

Sikong Han was inconsequential to them, yet their deep affection and concern for each other remained unaltered.

"You're so good." Nie Jia smiled and rewarded him with a kiss, patting his head.

Shi Chen ruffled his hair and chuckled, "This item is highly lethal. It could be mass-produced by the Military Office to break through the Da Qi frontline easily."

Nie Jia shook his head, "The Yan Country's iron mine resources are limited, and replenishing the frontline's weaponry each year is already taxing. Besides, how many armies are under my command now? Equipping the Xuanjia and your Iron Cavalry is enough."

Shi Chen smirked with a hint of ferocity, "Whatever Yan Country lacks, I'll snatch it for you. Whoever has it, we'll claim it."

Not just Yan Country, the entire world was barren. Endless conflicts and wars persisted solely for the struggle over limited resources—dominance relied on war. In such a situation, Sikong Han was trivial.

The New Year was approaching, and while the Chiyang Palace remained desolate, the Red Cloud Palace was bustling with decorations, giving the impression that the king was marrying.

The festive atmosphere in the Red Cloud Palace contrasted starkly with the apprehension in Zhuolu City. Fearful of the ongoing turbulence, households dared not celebrate the festive season and remained lifeless like a dead city.

In mid-spring, as the weather warmed, Nie Jia shed his heavy robes. Due to practicing martial arts with Shi Chen for months, even in the lingering chill of early spring, he often sweated profusely, feeling reluctant to even wear a single garment.

He had grown taller. In just one season, standing beside Shi Chen, there was no need for him to tip-toe anymore—he could reach his lips effortlessly. His stature was elegant and noble. If he were to stand in the sunlight holding a sword, his naturally imposing aura would easily captivate anyone. Who would have thought that three months ago, he was frail and looked like he could break at any moment?

The Xuanjia soldiers found solace in this change. If only their commander didn't harass the king at every opportunity, they would have been even happier!

By mid-spring, as Shi Chen felt Nie Jia being confined to the palace was distressing, he took him hunting and sightseeing, accompanied by the Xuanjia.

Nie Jia thoroughly enjoyed himself, shooting down a white tiger with an arrow. He extracted a tiger tooth and made tinkling sounds in the evening. The next morning, when Shi Chen woke up, he noticed something new around his neck. Upon closer inspection, it was an extremely precious red bead from the royal crown, with the tiger tooth Nie Jia personally pulled out on each side.

Shi Chen was momentarily stunned, holding the red beads, still able to feel the lingering warmth from the meticulous attention of the small country lord from last night. His heart softened, gently kissing Nie Jia's forehead before he slipped back into slumber in Shi Chen's embrace.

The other Xuanjia members witnessing this scene felt a pang of jealousy. Why did the lord have beads they didn't? Why did he have fangs they lacked? If it weren't for their inability to challenge the lord, they'd have likely taken him down a peg. Thankfully, the Military Affairs Bureau sent wrist guards and crossbows into the palace. Nie Jia called the Xuanjia to receive them, pacifying their resentment at finally receiving gifts from the lord.

Throughout spring, Nie Jia spent nearly all his time by Shi Chen's side—practicing martial arts, discussing love, and idling away in the study, tinkering with trinkets. Essentially, he avoided court duties and paperwork, leaving it all to Shi Chen.

He was disinterested in politics, especially in the court affairs of the Yan Country, a small nation barely surviving amidst ongoing conflicts. Any commotion in the court seemed trivial and unworthy of attention.

As spring passed into its final days, General Gaodi returned victorious with the northwest army, and rumors spread of Prince Jing's return. The people of Zhuolu City rejoiced, flocking to the gates to welcome them.

Over the past six months, Prince Jing Changyue had become a deity in the hearts of the northwest army. The battlefield spared no one; casualties and death loomed daily. However, the hope Prince Jing brought sustained them. Any severe injuries, if not immediately fatal, had an eighty percent chance of recovery once brought before him.

Prince Jing's compassionate healing endeared him as a guardian deity to the northwest army.

Following Prince Jing was the unmatched valor of Du Yuxian, the Left Vanguard who even outshone General Gaodi. With this momentum, the northwest army's allegiance to Prince Jing or Du Yuxian becoming king was just a matter of time. Their hatred for the tyrant intensified, especially upon seeing their former idol's severely decomposed body hanging on the city walls.

Sikong Han, now known as Du Yuxian, rode on horseback, glaring at the corpses on the city gates, fingers nearly crushing the reins!

"Qifeng…" Sikong Han gazed at the skeletal remains, already picked clean by birds, tears glistening in his eyes.

He had known the tyrant killed his old friend, but witnessing it now heightened his sorrow and hatred. What had Qifeng done wrong? Merely pleaded for burial rights, yet it led to this disgraceful death on the city walls! Without acknowledging Qifeng's significant contributions to Yan Country, with such a tyrant, the nation was doomed!

Jun Changyue seemed to sense Sikong Han's intense animosity, gripping his hand, firmly advising, "Returning to the city, don't act rashly and alert the enemy. His guards are everywhere. We're not a match. We've already suffered once; we must be cautious."

"I understand." Sikong Han cast a mild gaze towards him.

"I'll support you, even if not for you but for the people and the survival of Yan Country. I won't show any mercy towards him." Jun Changyue whispered, tightly holding Sikong Han's hand, feeling his warmth and vitality, seeking reassurance against the discomfort from the sight of corpses on the walls.

He's not dead; he's still here. Jun Changyue was deeply moved, especially gazing at his beloved beside the pile of bones. The excitement and joy in his heart remained unsettled for a long time.

The northwest army returned victorious, welcomed by the people as before but with continuous cheers, not the eerie silence from the previous return. Even daring girls from the balconies threw scent pouches at the soldiers, hitting one and earning a shy, kind smile in return. It was different from the returning iron cavalry of the Southern Yi, each one aloof and terrifying.

Knowing Sikong Han had returned, Nie Jia paid no attention, awaiting General Gaodi and Jun Changyue's audience to present their achievements at court.

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