Chapter 17 Kissed by the Old Fossil

Chapter 17: Kissed by the Old-Fashioned Guy

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Still, I must strive to make them increasingly pampered, more and more dependent on me, heehee.

So, it's fine that the "dowry" is gone—it was handed over to the Changzhou City Museum. In total, they unearthed six Spring and Autumn Period bronze plates with bird-and-fish motifs, three Northern Wei clay figurines, two pairs of glass vessels, a pair of Sui dynasty white-glazed pottery jars, and more. They didn’t continue digging; Shu Yangkuo was the first to call a halt, reining in the two youngsters, who were almost out of control with excitement. He cordoned off the site, declaring everything had to be surrendered. Shi Zai’s eyes widened in disbelief, and it was only after Shu Yangkuo’s explanation that he reluctantly understood, though still displeased. He suddenly smacked his own forehead:

“Then what about you two?!”

“……”

“……”

“Fine, just consider me Nüwa, and you two are the little clay figures I molded, hehe.”

“……”

“…Little bro, you even… know how to create little figures?”

“Of course! I’ve seen the picture book of Nüwa making clay figures!”

Shi Zai lay on the ground, his rear end sticking up, still peering into the pit. Yang Yun shot him a look of mixed emotions, then glanced at Shu Yangkuo, who was calmly watching Shi Zai… Tsk, even if Second Uncle doesn’t become a true monk, he’ll probably be a celibate one for half his life.

He’s truly good at keeping his composure.

They reported everything to the Fengwai Town government, and the excavated items were eventually placed in the Changzhou City Museum. The site would require at least another month of excavation, but they didn’t participate further. They received an honorary banner from the town, and Shi Zai was quite pleased, no longer dwelling on the fact that they'd drawn water with a sieve, since the best treasures were already by his side.

When talking about the handed-over artifacts, Shi Zai suddenly had a thought during dinner and exclaimed to the two:

“Bro, Yun Bao, could it be… that was actually your tomb?!”

“……”

“Hehe, those things really were Second Uncle’s former collection.”

“As expected of a crown prince! But I’m a bit sad, what should I do? Thinking of you two inside…”

“Don’t be sad, little bro! Our fate wasn’t to end there. We waited bitterly for over a thousand years just to meet you!”

“Wah, Yun Bao—”

Shi Zai whimpered and hugged Yang Yun sideways. Although the pink dumpling was small and lean, he was soft and cuddly, resting his head on Shi Zai’s shoulder and letting himself be held. Shi Zai wasn’t truly upset—after all, he couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine such a bizarre thing.

He had real, living people, and that was enough.

He just liked the pink dumpling even more now. For Shu Yangkuo, his affection was the kind that made him want to lean close; for Yang Yun, it was the kind that made him want to hold him in his arms, something akin to doting. Knowing the little bird had been lonely in the past, he really wanted to make up for the affection the child had missed.

Moreover, Yang Yun was really good at saying sweet things.

The two hugged for a while until they heard the sound of chopsticks lightly tapping the edge of a bowl. Yang Yun was the first to turn around and made a face, signaling Second Uncle not to disturb him comforting little bro… Shu Yangkuo said flatly, “The food is getting cold,” and the two youngsters separated to eat properly.

As they ate, Yang Yun noticed a chilly stare and shrunk his neck, leaning closer to Shi Zai:

“Little bro, is Second Uncle mad at me? Does he think I’m redundant between you two?”

Hearing this, Shi Zai asked Shu Yangkuo doubtfully:

“Bro?”

“…I’m not mad at him.”

Shu Yangkuo withdrew his gaze, lowered his eyes, stood up after finishing his meal, and went to the kitchen to fetch warm drinking water for the two youngsters.

When he returned, he noticed Shi Zai’s eyes were slightly red, chewing on his chopsticks absentmindedly. Shu Yangkuo’s breath caught. He glanced at Yang Yun, who shook his head gently. Just as Yang Yun was about to speak, Shi Zai said:

“Yun Bao, I’ve suffered from being neglected, so I understand. I won’t neglect you, please don’t think that way, don’t… I only have you two, I’ll treat you both well, I’ll never play favorites or give anyone the cold shoulder…”

“Little bro.”

“I’m different from my parents, different, please believe me…”

“Little bro! I was just joking. I thought Second Uncle was too quiet and wanted to get a rise out of him. Don’t be upset!”

Shi Zai snapped out of his emotions, blinked, muttered “my good Yun Bao,” and hugged him again. Whether Yang Yun was really joking or not, Shi Zai was genuinely reflecting. He had a unique bond with Shu Yangkuo and didn’t want to leave Yang Yun behind. Especially now that they weren’t sleeping in the same room, he was afraid Yang Yun would feel neglected and insecure.

But that wasn’t the case. Yang Yun was his brother and a friend he valued far more than Jiang Ziqing and Tan Xun.

Perhaps because their age difference was small, Shi Zai felt Yang Yun sometimes connected with him better than Shu Yangkuo. Of course, Shu Yangkuo understood him deeply too—a look or a hug meant more than words—but the man could be too reticent at times.

Quietly withdrawing his once again outstretched arms, Shu Yangkuo patted each of them on the shoulder and back, then went to reheat the food.

After dinner, Shi Zai held the first family council, inspired by TV shows. Since they would each be busy starting tomorrow, he wanted to speak in advance and pump them up. Hehe, they would be together and work hard together. Since his brother and younger brother didn’t want to be his kept men, he would do his best to give them opportunities. Shi Zai naturally didn’t understand their “world,” but he was willing to give everything to support them.

Helping them shine was another form of “raising.”

Yang Yun was indeed interested in pottery but didn’t want to follow the path of the old craftsmen in town. He wanted to make cute pottery, selling it for its design and quantity rather than craftsmanship. He couldn’t settle down to learn traditional skills for three or four years. Shi Zai didn’t restrict him and asked Jiang Ziqing’s cultural teacher to find a ceramics workshop where he could learn enough to work independently in about a year.

As for Shu Yangkuo, Shi Zai noticed his interest in antiques and history and wanted him to explore museums and libraries first. But the man wanted to visit the Chaolin Temple in Changzhou City first—not to become a monk, but to transcribe from memory the only thing he remembered related to the Great Tang Dynasty, the “Spring Emergence Sutra.”

Even if the dynasty was gone, scattered fragments of it could still be recorded.

Even if the Great Tang was less than ideal, he had lived there for twenty-seven years.

Shi Zai also suggested that Shu Yangkuo write down the history of the Great Tang Dynasty in the future, even if as a fictional story, but Shu Yangkuo refused. In those twenty-seven years, he had only left the palace twice, and aside from power struggles, he hadn’t experienced anything worth recording about the Great Tang. Shi Zai didn’t pressure him either, playing it by ear, treating it as a new life. Life couldn’t be chosen, but a new life could.

As for Shi Zai himself, he would start working in the recording studio tomorrow afternoon—a new attempt, also a fresh start.

It was early April. Outside the window, the elegant and fragrant magnolia trees had been replaced by richly scented catalpa trees, their buds swelling, ready to burst into glorious bloom in less than a week. A single tree would showcase a spectrum of colors. They nestled together in mid-spring, completely at peace.

Shi Zai no longer lay on Shu Yangkuo’s chest. Since he could get up every morning, he stopped, afraid of crushing the little chick.

Shu Yangkuo’s eyes crinkled with a smile. He turned sideways, pulling the boy tightly into his arms and against his chest. The night was deep, but the pair of big eyes in his arms were still awake, blinking, lost in thought. Shu Yangkuo pondered for a moment and gently patted the small of the person in his arms:

“Maybe I won’t go.”

“To Chaolin Temple?”

“Mhm.”

“…No, you should go!”

The person in his arms had shining eyes. Shu Yangkuo’s heart wavered, and he genuinely didn’t want to go anymore. Whether it was recorded or not seemed unnecessary.

But Shi Zai sensed his thoughts and gripped his wrist tightly:

“Bro, you have to go. Mainly, I want to mess with the rogue monk, hehe.”

“……”

"Anyway, you shaved your head again—it really gives off that sinister monk vibe, hahaha..."

Before he could finish, Shi Zai got a light swat on his butt.

He stayed quiet for a little while, then tilted his head up, stealing glance after glance at the man under the moonlight streaming through the window. Unable to hold back, he said:

"Ge, it's just the two of us in the room now—shouldn’t we do something to celebrate?"

"...How should we celebrate?"

"Like... you could kiss me. Yun Bao was right—you never make the first move with me. You never touch me or kiss me..."

His chin was suddenly lifted, and Shi Zai fell silent, his eyes growing even brighter. Shrouded in an intense, predatory gaze, he swallowed nervously, then let his eyes drift to Shu Yangkuo’s Adam’s apple—large and prominent, bobbing slightly. Unable to resist, Shi Zai began whispering "Ge" over and over.

Since that night he’d kissed Shu Yangkuo, there hadn’t been another kiss—let alone Shu Yangkuo initiating one.

Kissing was wonderful, even better than hugging. Shi Zai didn’t understand why Shu Yangkuo seemed reluctant to kiss or touch, but he could feel how tightly Shu Yangkuo sometimes held him around the waist, his breathing heavy, the warm puffs against his neck making him crave even greater intimacy.

Though unsure what more intimacy could mean, Shi Zai tentatively reached his hand inside—only to have it caught before he could touch anything. A wave of boyish frustration washed over him. *If only I hadn’t bought this stinky man pajamas*, he thought irritably, *then I could’ve reached right in and felt his chest. Hmph.*

Why was he being so restrictive lately? Not allowed below, and now not even above?

Ducking his head, Shi Zai took two deep breaths and buried his face, ready to sleep. *Fine, no kiss then.*

Maybe he was pushing too far.

The sudden loss of warmth at his fingertips made Shu Yangkuo rub his fingers where the warmth had been. The boy in his arms blinked a few times, then trembled slightly as he closed his eyes, curling into a small ball against Shu Yangkuo’s chest—like a fire that could burn through his control, or a cloud too delicate to disturb.

So young.

No matter how mature he tried to appear, he was still an innocent young man, just beginning to understand the ways of the world, clueless about the desires awakening in him. Shu Yangkuo didn’t want to rush his growth; he was willing to patiently help him make up for all the love he’d missed before anything else.

But why did he have to seem so wronged?

Shu Yangkuo cupped the boy’s face gently and leaned down. The brilliance in those wide eyes made his ears heat up. He kissed those eyelids softly until they closed... Shu Yangkuo held his breath. Only the moonlight illuminated those lips—plump, ripe, irresistibly tempting. *Just to comfort him*, he thought, *or else those bright eyes might make my chest damp with tears again.*

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Just as he’d imagined—soft and sweet. His mouth was like the burning passion in his chest: once tasted, unforgettable, enough to make one lose all reason, fall deeper, and crave even more.

Shi Zai was completely lost. His tongue felt numb from the sucking kisses, his lips under the moonlight red like glistening jelly. Spit he couldn’t swallow fast enough dripped from his chin—*drip, drip*. Unnoticed, a soft spring rain had begun to fall, tapping against the window, making the passion between them feel even stronger.

The moment his soft belly suddenly clenched, Shi Zai’s comfortable murmurs turned shaky. His eyes flew wide open:

"Ge... Ge..."

"..."

Hearing those soft, repeated whimpers, Shu Yangkuo’s eyes darkened with a deep red hue. With immense effort, he held back. Hands circling the boy’s waist, he lifted him back into his arms. *I went overboard—I scared him.* He pressed light kisses to his forehead and gently patted his back:

"Don’t be afraid. I was wrong."

"...I’m not afraid... Ge, look at me! I’m just like you now!"

With just one glance, Shu Yangkuo tore his eyes away from the boy’s hand playing with him. He fell silent for a long moment, quietly working to calm himself down.

Author's Note: