Chapter 283: Longing

Chapter 283: Longing

Because Meng Wan had to wait this time for the Annam Prime Minister to finally give up before he could obtain the letter from him, it set him back several days. Worried that Song Tingzhou would be getting anxious waiting, he rushed back to Qinzhou as fast as he could.

After washing up, he changed into the clothes Huang Ye had prepared for him, so worn out he could barely lift his arms.

"There, there, A Yan—tomorrow, tomorrow Papa will make you... make you something good..." Before he could even get out the last two words, "to eat," Meng Wan was dead asleep.

"Papa, Papa, what's wrong with you?" A Yan crouched by Meng Wan's bed, scared half to death by the state he was in. No matter how much he shook him, Meng Wan wouldn't wake up.

Meng Wan didn't look like he was just sleeping—it seemed more like he'd passed out. Chu Ci hurried over and took his pulse, confirming it was just exhaustion and not a real fainting spell, and only then did everyone breathe easy.

Prince Qin still hadn't settled down these past few days. He stood at the doorway of Meng Wan's room, peering in, his voice thick and nasal as he spoke. "It was hard on Meng Fulang to make this trip, but in the end, my brother-in-law still couldn't be saved." His voice started choking up again at the end.

Qin Xiaoyun looked at him—the guy was practically made of water—and couldn't bear to watch. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw Pei Anyuan heading over, he shut it again.

Meng Wan's return was a big deal—all the important people in camp had gathered around him.

Pei Anyuan had seen Meng Wan before but didn't know who he was. Now seeing him surrounded by everyone, he couldn't help feeling uneasy, but he didn't want to ask Qin Jiao directly, afraid it would seem like he was prying.

Qin Jiao, oblivious to his complicated feelings, had specially cleared out a bigger stone house for Meng Wan, and Huang Ye had replaced the bedding inside with the kind Meng Wan was accustomed to.

Meng Wan had been sleeping since he got back in the morning, sleeping so hard he couldn't tell up from down. When he finally woke up, it was, predictably, because he was hungry.

His eyes wouldn't open. He pried them open a crack, saw it was dark out, and quickly shut them again. April in Lingnan was already getting hot. Eyes still closed, Meng Wan kicked off the thin blanket and accidentally bumped into a leg.

Like a blind man, he felt his way up—the smooth line of a jaw, then higher, the prominent bridge of a nose... and then Meng Wan had touched the person awake.

Song Tingzhou rolled over and pulled him into a hug, burying his face in the crook of Meng Wan's neck and shoulder, nibbling at it like he always did. "Awake? Hungry?"

He was warm to the touch, and his nuzzling made beads of sweat pop out on the tip of Meng Wan's nose. He fanned himself with his hand but couldn't bring himself to shove Song Tingzhou away. "Hungry."

Song Tingzhou moved his head up and pecked Meng Wan's lips a few times before climbing out of bed to find him something to eat.

It was already the dead of night. Song Tingzhou, in thin white silk underclothes, draped the outer robe hanging by the bed over his shoulders and headed to the kitchen.

Huang Ye hadn't known when Meng Wan would wake up, so instead of making anything that wouldn't keep, he'd left congee warming in an earthenware pot.

When Song Tingzhou got to the kitchen, he ran into Pei Anyuan coming out. The man greeted him shyly. "Lord Song, why are you up so early?"

It was already the hour of Yin (3–5 AM), so "early" was accurate enough. In the generals' private kitchen here—in another half hour, the main cookhouse outside would be firing up too.

Song Tingzhou said flatly, "Mm. Just came to find something to eat."

"Oh." Pei Anyuan was a little scared of both him and Qin Xiaoyun, so after greeting him, he left.

Song Tingzhou found the congee Huang Ye had warmed. The embers under the stove had long gone out, but the fine rice congee in the pot was still a little warm.

He ladled out a bowl of congee, then thought better of it and poured it back.

"Where's the food?" Meng Wan sat on the edge of the bed, having found a candle and set it on the wooden stool. He looked at Song Tingzhou in surprise, seeing him come back empty-handed.

"The congee went cold. I've got some fruit in my pack—have that to tide you over. Once Huang Ye gets up, I'll have him make you two bowls of noodles." Song Tingzhou took an oil-paper package from his own bundle and handed it to Meng Wan.

Meng Wan nibbled on two pieces of thousand-layer cake with some tea to take the edge off his hunger. There was still half an hour before dawn, and neither of them planned to go back to sleep, so they half-leaned against the bedding, murmuring quietly to each other.

"What a shame. That old man was stubborn as a mule—he'd only part with one letter." Meng Wan regretted not being able to get his hands on the secret letter Xia Yuan had sent.

Song Tingzhou pulled him fully into his arms, his voice low and soft. "This is already more than enough. A letter would've been a bonus, but this one alone is plenty."

Meng Wan lay on his broad, warm chest, pressed up against him, two hearts beating at the same rhythm, separated only by a thin layer of skin, holding nothing back.

The two had been apart for a long time—there was no way they didn't miss each other. Meng Wan tilted his head up, looked left, looked right, then cupped Song Tingzhou's face in both hands and kissed him square on the lips.

Song Tingzhou responded eagerly the second Meng Wan's lips touched his. He tilted his head slightly and kissed Meng Wan with deliberate care. It was a kiss full of longing, impossibly tender—even the wet sounds of it were slow and soft.

Gradually, the little bead of Meng Wan's lip was rubbed redder and redder by lips and tongue, like a crushed red peony. Song Tingzhou seemed a little unsatisfied with such a languid kiss. He sat up halfway on the bed, reached out to cup the back of Meng Wan's head, and used his tongue to push past his teeth—teasing, sucking, stirring things up wantonly—then smoothly pressed him down onto the bed.

His straight nose brushed lightly against the tender white skin of Meng Wan's neck, his scorching, heavy breaths burning Meng Wan until he couldn't help but tremble slightly, a soft moan slipping out. "Home... when we get home..."

Song Tingzhou gave one last heavy suck at the corner of Meng Wan's lips, then turned over in bed with him in his arms, closing his eyes to calm his violently heaving chest.

In this position, Meng Wan lay very comfortably, and his hands couldn't help but wander into Song Tingzhou's loose clothing to feel the smooth, firm lines of his waist and abdomen.

"Wan'er." Song Tingzhou let out a helpless, breathy sigh.

Meng Wan whipped his hand back out. "I won't tease you anymore. Let's sleep a bit more."

There was no place in the world more reassuring than by Song Tingzhou's side. Meng Wan emptied his mind, feeling as though every inch of him had absorbed Song Tingzhou's presence—his sense of security was simply overwhelming. He drifted off alongside Song Tingzhou for a while, and before they knew it, the two had fallen back asleep.

Song Tingzhou had mostly finished his business in Qinzhou. The prefect appointed by the imperial court had already assumed his post. He and Qin Xiaoyun discussed some confidential matters, and then the entire Song family entourage would head straight back to Xiwu Prefecture.

After washing up, Meng Wan sat on a large stone outside, very down-to-earth, eating noodles from a bowl. Inside were two poached eggs and a few wild vegetables.

There weren't many rich ingredients in the area. It was still Xue Sheng who had managed to scrounge up some eggs from who-knows-where—six in total, and Huang Ye had saved two just for Meng Wan.

Meng Wan ate the entire large bowl of noodles clean, broth and all. When traveling, he really did eat whatever was available—the most common being lotus root powder, which was easy to store. Meng Wan swore he didn't want to eat another bite of lotus root powder for three years.

The children were all playing outside. A Yan, like a little puppy, kept coming over to act cute with Meng Wan. He'd had more than enough of the military camp—there was neither a big group of playmates nor delicious rice noodles here. He and Tong'er were both grumbling that they should have brought the snow wolf along too.

"Papa, look, I have a big chicken leg!" When Meng Wan came out after washing the dishes, he saw A Yan holding up a chicken leg to show off to him, with Tong'er trailing behind A Yan, drooling with longing. The two kids hadn't had meat in a long time.

Meng Wan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Where did that come from?" He had initially assumed it was a wild pheasant that Chi Yu or Ge Quan had hunted from the woods, but if he wasn't mistaken, that white-clothed xiaoge walking toward Qin Jiao over there was carrying a plate of braised chicken pieces, wasn't he?

Sure enough, A Yan pointed at Pei Anyuan. "Anyuan-gege gave it to me."

"How has Papa taught you? Things given by strangers shouldn't be eaten so readily." Meng Wan knew that children had weak willpower, but in this era where the legal system was far from perfect, it was better to teach children to be clever and cautious from a young age—like Chi Yu, who was now beyond correction no matter how hard you tried.

Pei Anyuan, thinking of something, suddenly changed direction and walked over, happening to overhear Meng Wan's words. A flash of anger appeared on his cool, handsome face. He gave a cold snort. "If you don't want it, you can throw it away."

He turned and left without giving anyone a chance to explain.

Meng Wan ignored him. Food was scarce at the border, let alone meat.

After instructing A Yan to take the chicken leg to the cookhouse, Meng Wan went to find Qin Jiao.

Pei Anyuan had been bringing food to Qin Jiao, who had lost his appetite. Seeing Meng Wan follow along, his eyes held inexplicable hostility.

There were far too many people who harbored hostility toward Meng Wan—he couldn't even keep track of them all. He practically ignored Pei Anyuan and offered Qin Jiao a word of advice. "Prince Qin, after we leave, you'll likely be summoned back to the capital as well. If you do receive the edict, remember to stop by my home when you pass through Xiwu Prefecture."

"Meng Fulang, rest assured. If I catch wind of anything, I will certainly inform you and Lord Song." Qin Jiao had recovered somewhat over the past few days, his emotions no longer as shattered as they had been—whether due to the power of love or because Qin Xiaoyun had provoked him a few times, it was hard to say.

"Wan'er, time to go." Song Tingzhou came over from Qin Xiaoyun's quarters to call for Meng Wan.

Meng Wan acknowledged with a sound. "Coming." He had almost reached Song Tingzhou's side when he thought of something else and reminded Qin Jiao, "Prince Qin, some things aren't really for me, an outsider, to say, but since you and my husband and I have considerable friendship, I'll say one unpleasant thing."

Qin Jiao seemed to already know what he was about to say. He solemnly clasped his fists toward Meng Wan. "Meng Fulang, rest assured. After I return to the capital, I will personally go to the Gu family to cancel the engagement. Whatever blame or punishment comes, I will bear it alone."

What more could Meng Wan say? As a friend, he could only say this much.

After bidding farewell to Qin Jiao and the others, Meng Wan set off once more, this time heading home. With Song Tingzhou and A Yan by his side, his spirits were considerably lighter.

However, traveling during the dampest season made him feel as if he were perpetually reeking of stale sweat. Halfway along the road, Ge Quan and Fang Jinrong's family had to part ways with them, and this time even Tong'er was taken away by his two fathers.

A Yan had found Tong'er tiresome when they were together every day, but now that they were separated, he clung to him, unwilling to let him go.

Four-year-old Tong'er, displaying a surprisingly dependable demeanor, comforted A Yan, who was two years older, while the adults of both families exchanged their farewells.

"Brother Ge, I entrust Qinzhou to you," Song Tingzhou said earnestly.

Ge Quan clasped his fists in a farewell salute, then turned to lift Tong'er onto the carriage, seating himself at the driver's post.

Meng Wan added a concerned reminder, "If you two can't cook, just make congee—use plenty of water. If it comes to it, just hire someone."

Fang Jinrong extended a hand from inside the carriage, "Got it, got it."

They departed with a carefree air, clearly accustomed to parting from friends, but Meng Wan couldn't shake the feeling that Fang Jinrong's tone was too dismissive, wondering if he had really taken his words to heart.

Would Tong'er end up getting sick from being run ragged again before they met next?

In mid-May, the group finally returned to their long-missed home. Song Tingzhou went to the yamen as was his custom, while Meng Wan took the children home. He jumped down from the carriage and shouted eagerly toward the residence, "Mother! We're back!"

He had passed by Chang Jinhua's shop earlier and asked—she wasn't there today, so she must be at home.

Gui Cheng and Gui Qian saw to the carriage, while Zhu Yan and Zhusha unpacked the luggage. Having many servants certainly had its perks; once home, one could simply relax without lifting a finger.

Meng Wan walked with a light step toward Chang Jinhua's room, ordering Gui Cheng to bring two buckets of warm water to his bedchamber.

"Oh, our Wan Geer is so grown and still running to his mother—have you no shame?"

A familiar teasing tone came from the guest room in the back courtyard. Meng Wan halted mid-step, staring in disbelief at the newcomer. "Nie Zhiyao!"

Nie Zhiyao was still dressed in a long gown of fine brocade, though it was plain and unadorned, with few woven patterns.

In one hand, he held a tiny, well-behaved little boy of six or seven, who even bowed to Meng Wan in a proper, grown-up manner. In the other, he held a jade bamboo fan with a glossy, reddish hue, gently waving it as he said, "What, after six years, you don't recognize me?"

Meng Wan's smile grew wider and wider. "So what if I don't recognize you? You still know where my door is, don't you? Fei Geer, this is truly your uncle's first time meeting you—I must find you the very, very best gift."

Nie Zhiyao was the friend most to Meng Wan's liking since he arrived in this world—one might even call him a kindred spirit. Though they hadn't seen each other in six years, they kept in constant correspondence, exchanging rare gifts during festivals.

"Enough, go get washed up first. You've clearly been living it up in Xi Wu—look how wrinkled your clothes are," Nie Zhiyao said with disdain.

He had grown up in the capital and later moved to Changping. Nie Erfuren (his husband) was also a stickler for propriety, demanding strict adherence to rules in all matters of clothing, food, housing, and travel, lest they invite ridicule.

Meng Wan had once had to follow such conventions, but in the Lingnan region, things were far more relaxed—wear what you like, go where you please.

After a refreshing bath and changing into light, cool clothes, Meng Wan eagerly summoned Nie Zhiyao to his room for a chat.

"Why didn't you write ahead? Such a sudden arrival—did you and Fei Geer suffer much on the road?" Meng Wan called Fei Geer closer. There were no strict rules here, so he simply told him to take off his shoes and join A Yan on the soft couch to play with toys.

Seeing Fei Geer hesitate and glance at Nie Zhiyao, he realized that while he saw them as children, the capital's rules were numerous and stifling. Fei Geer was already seven; the two could play together, but not too intimately, lest it invite gossip.

Nie Zhiyao gently stroked Fei Geer's elaborate topknot. "It's fine, your uncle here doesn't require such caution. Go on up and play."

With his permission, Fei Geer happily climbed onto the couch.

Nie Zhiyao sat down beside Meng Wan with a soft sigh. "Sometimes I truly envy you, so free and unrestrained in Lingnan. This time, Lezheng Qi brought me and Fei Geer here. There's a reason, and I truly didn't dare make any noise about it beforehand."