Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Early the next morning, Fang Zhihe got up and went to the yard to collect morning dew. As the sun shone down, he picked two thorny roses, broke off the petals, and scattered them over the dew.

Lu Wuyou came in from the outside, carrying some meat and vegetables in his hand, and under his other arm, a package wrapped in oil paper.

Fang Zhihe was tending to a small stove boiling water. Hearing the sound, he looked up and gave a slight smile. "Thought you might have sneaked off somewhere overnight."

Lu Wuyou set down the oil-paper package, glanced at the water on the stove. The petals floating on the surface flipped over, spun a few times, and sank.

Curious, Fang Zhihe poked the oil-paper package and asked, "What's this treat?"

Lu Wuyou shot him a glare. "Sesame flatbreads from the street. Stuffed with pickled mustard greens. You love these, don't you?"

Raising an eyebrow, Fang Zhihe reached over and opened the package. Seeing the neatly arranged flatbreads, he dropped his gaze and smiled faintly, nodding. "This is what my little brother likes. I prefer meat." With that, he picked up a flatbread and took a bite, mumbling, "But since you bought them, I'll eat..."

Lu Wuyou couldn't be bothered to acknowledge him and carried his things into the house.

Munching on the flatbread, Fang Zhihe glanced at the petals in the water—limp and soft. He poked one with a tea scoop, and it spun like a wheel before floating back up.

The sun was warm and pleasant. Fang Zhihe lounged lazily in a wicker chair. He hadn't brought any attendants and couldn't even manage his own hair, so he simply let it hang loose down his back. On the table beside him were the freshly brewed rose petal tea and two sesame flatbreads.

In the kitchen, Lu Wuyou simmered an elm seed and spare rib soup, stir-fried a plain cucumber, and made a cold plate of sliced beef.

When he set the dishes out on the wooden table in the small yard, Fang Zhihe was already asleep. Sunlight fell on his hair. He must have been in deep sleep, his face slightly tilted, letting stray strands cover his eyes.

Lu Wuyou stood there watching him for a while. The birdsong in the trees was ethereal and fresh, bringing a certain calm to one's ears.

A gentle spring breeze stirred. Lu Wuyou lifted the hem of his robe and sat down in the wicker chair beside him. Imitating Fang Zhihe's posture, he lounged back lazily and stretched out his legs. Glancing sideways at Fang Zhihe, he suddenly found it funny.

It wasn't that he didn't know what Fang Zhihe liked to eat; he just didn't want to make him happy, because if he did, the man would only take it the wrong way.

Lu Wuyou looked up at the sky. Fluffy clouds drifted by. Someone in his sleep gave a soft hum and mumbled, "I'm hungry... These memorials are making my head spin. I want some sugar-roasted chestnuts..."

"..." Lu Wuyou turned his head and glared at him. "If you want to eat, just say so. Don't go blaming other people's memorials." He just couldn't stand Fang Zhihe's willfulness—acting like some exalted noble, arrogant and truly ill-mannered.

About half an hour later, Fang Zhihe opened his eyes. The aroma of bone soup wafted over. He sniffed the air and immediately sat up.

Lu Wuyou had reheated the food and set it back on the table. Seeing him up, he gave a faint smile. "Slept well?"

Fang Zhihe secretly pouted. "Didn't sleep well last night... sorry."

Lu Wuyou understood perfectly but couldn't be bothered to argue. He served him rice and handed it over, saying coldly, "What's with that hair hanging loose like that? You look like a woman."

Fang Zhihe lowered his head and took a mouthful of rice. At the comment, he perked up his ears, the tips twitching slightly, and cast a startled glance over. "But... I don't know how to tie my hair."

Lu Wuyou paused in picking up a dish. He looked up and sneered, "You're really a pampered young master, can't even manage your own hair."

Fang Zhihe scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed as he smiled. "But I'm the emperor, you know."

Lu Wuyou choked on his words. Seeing the sly glint in the man's eyes, he knew he was putting on an act again. In a huff, he pulled the two dishes closer to himself, refusing to let him eat.

Fang Zhihe was at a loss, staring at him with pitiful eyes. When it became clear the man really wouldn't let him have any, he could only dejectedly dug into his rice, muttering under his breath, "A real man, can't even take a joke. So petty."

Lu Wuyou was both amused and annoyed. He flicked his chopsticks against Fang Zhihe's forehead and snapped, "Shut up. Hurry up and eat. Then we're going to the riverbank."

"Ah..." Fang Zhihe didn't dodge in time and took the hit squarely. His forehead instantly reddened. He raised a hand to cover it, rubbing it carefully, and shot Lu Wuyou an unhappy glare.

This man was truly mean. Yesterday, when he made elm seed noodles, he'd put laxatives in them, leaving Fang Zhihe unable to sleep all night. He'd had to go to Physician Qu across the street to get some medicine and take it.

Even now, his legs felt weak, and a string of bubbles seemed to churn in his stomach. Taking advantage of Lu Wuyou's inattention, Fang Zhihe secretly grabbed a piece of beef from the plate in front of him, ate it, and quietly smiled to himself.

Lu Wuyou saw it but said nothing. He just took a sip of the tea beside him.

It was slightly sweet, with a fragrant aroma, and very refreshing.