Chapter 21: Reunion (5)

Chapter 21: Reunion (5)

This human whirlwind named Pei Mingqi swept Le Wuya all the way into the back hall.

Le Wuya was shoved onto the only cushioned chair in the room.

Pei Mingqi loomed over him and demanded directly: "What is your birth date and time?"

Le Wuya gritted his teeth and rubbed his waist: "General Pei, your humble servant has wasted twenty-five years."

Pei Mingqi pressed on: "I want your birth date and time."

Le Wuya: "..."

He started to regret bragging to Wenren Yue that he could handle it himself.

He flicked his eyes, softening his look, and deliberately put on a teasing voice, hoping to brush it off: "General Pei, you're asking for my birth details—you want to swap betrothal cards?"

Unexpectedly, Pei Mingqi didn't fall for it: "What betrothal notes? Stop beating around the bush!"

Le Wuya: "..."

He had forgotten that Little Phoenix was never much of a scholar.

But even if he didn't like reading, hadn't he had any marriage talks in these past few years?

Caught in the classic lost-cause spot of a scholar facing a brute, Le Wuya's face went cold: "Then you want to practice witchcraft?"

Hearing the word "witchcraft," Pei Mingqi's expression darkened a bit: "You..."

"General, you have been disrespectful to your subordinate repeatedly. Though I hold a low rank, I am not without feelings, to be trampled on by you again and again!"

The other's serious expression and accusations brought Pei Mingqi somewhat to his senses.

His head throbbed like needles, his voice and heart softened first, but his movements still trapped him forcefully in the chair: "You resemble someone I once knew..."

Le Wuya straightened up and stared at him: "Who is that person?"

"My..." The usually straightforward Pei Mingqi actually faltered, "My..."

Le Wuya sneered inwardly.

To him, Le Wuya was always someone he couldn't name aloud...

Pei Mingqi gritted his teeth and smacked the armrest of the chair: "My wife!"

Le Wuya: "..." You've really lost it.

It took him a moment to process, then ripples slowly stirred in his heart.

He thought, Little Phoenix had gotten married.

As kids, they'd watched stars together at their home in the capital.

As teens, they'd watched stars at the border, outside the camp tents.

Back then, they'd also talked about the future.

The sky was full of stars, a magnificent sight like a silver river cascading down.

Le Wuya pillowed his head on his arms, counting them one by one.

But his mind was restless, often losing count after a hundred.

He threw a leg over Pei Mingqi's lap: "Hey, what's on your mind? Quit it and help me count stars."

"What's the point in counting? They just hang there, no more, no less."

Le Wuya: "I want to."

Pei Mingqi: "Don't crows like shiny things?"

Le Wuya kicked his thigh: "Count."

Pei Mingqi raised his hand and patted his head one by one: "One crow, two crows, three crows..."

Le Wuya grabbed his hand and tucked it under his head.

Pei Mingqi looked up at the sky: "My mother said that when we go back to the capital this time, she's going to set up a marriage for me."

Le Wuya bit through the grass stalk in his mouth.

The taste of grass juice flooded his mouth, carrying a crisp fragrance.

Le Wuya casually pulled up a fresh one, held it in his mouth, and said nonchalantly: "Which family's girl?"

Pei Mingqi: "I don't know. She told me to go back and take my time picking one."

As if struck by a sudden idea, he turned sideways, propped his cheek, and looked at Le Wuya: "Hey, how about I marry someone who looks like you?"

Le Wuya closed his eyes: "Scram, scram. Where in the world can you find someone as handsome as me?"

He reached out his finger and lightly touched the small mole at the corner of Le Wuya's lips: "If my wife had a mole like this, it would be enough. She looks..."

Le Wuya was a bit annoyed and closed his eyes, not looking at him.

But he waited and waited, and never heard the rest of Pei Mingqi's sentence.

He'd been drilling the troops all day and was worn out, so he just shut his eyes and drifted off to dream of tugging Pei Mingqi's ears.

Years later, his joke came true—he really did marry someone who looked like him.

Le Wuya was silent for a beat, then retorted: "So what are you going to do? Take me as your second wife?"

Pei Mingqi was a soldier to the bone; his mind ran on a single track, zeroing in on his own business, completely ignoring Le Wuya's banter: "I only asked for your birth date and time. I asked, so you have to answer."

Le Wuya: "Is that what a gentleman does—throw his weight around?"

Pei Mingqi grabbed his wrist firmly: "First, I am no gentleman. Second, so what if I do?"

Le Wuya wished he could kick him to death, but he was pinned under him. That rough, hot palm against his wrist was a threat without even needing pressure.

"Born in the year Xinwei, on the twenty-fifth day of the first month, at the third ke of the Yin hour (roughly 4:45 am)." He sighed, feigning utter despair. "Anything else you want to know?"

Le Wuya knew that if he stammered, Pei Mingqi's mule-headedness would flare up, and he would have to get to the bottom of it.

By lying so coolly, he could instead ease his suspicion.

And even if Pei Mingqi dug into it until he hit rock bottom and found out he was lying, Le Wuya still had a story to give—either claiming that the official birth year didn't match the actual one, or saying that the birth data wasn't convenient to reveal. There were plenty of ways.

Pei Mingqi lifted his eyes and fixed his gaze steadily on Le Wuya.

Because the distance was so close, Le Wuya could clearly see the light in his eyes dimmed.

Le Wuya, who had just smoothly made up a fake birth date, lowered his eyes. "General, it’s only natural to miss your late wife, but ease up a little, okay? You’re about to break my hand."

Pei Mingqi finally snapped out of it and abruptly released his grip.

His wrist had a red ring from Pei Mingqi’s grip.

Pei Mingqi took a step back, couldn’t figure out why he always lost his cool around this guy.

Perhaps it had started the night before, when he saw his precious little red sandalwood incense burner shattered inexplicably on the ground—he had already lost all sense of reason.

"...Sorry, I was out of line."

Le Wuya stood up and smoothed his disheveled sleeves. "Don’t let it happen again."

Pei Mingqi tried to explain, "Magistrate Wenren reminds me of an old friend, so I..."

Le Wuya snorted. "A moment ago you said wife, now old friend. General Pei’s tastes are remarkably consistent."

Pei Mingqi did not defend himself, but asked with slight probing, "Do you know... Le Wuya?"

Le Wuya nodded slightly. "Oh, I’ve heard of him. General, by comparing me to this man, do you want me dead, or to commit treason and rack up three thousand sins, and bring calamity to the state?"

"He’s not like that!" Pei Mingqi started to argue, but caught himself, unable to conceal a look of disgust. "...What do you know?!"

Le Wuya glared at him with a look of loyal righteousness until Pei Mingqi stormed off with a flick of his sleeve. Only then did his gaze slowly soften.

From a distance, Deputy Magistrate Sun called out eagerly, "General Pei, are you leaving?"

Pei Mingqi, hot-tempered as ever, snapped, "Scram!"

But since he stormed out after saying that, it was like he’d voluntarily "scrammed" himself.

Deputy Magistrate Sun wiped his brow and entered the back hall. "Your Honor, General Pei is..."

Le Wuya: "Oh, I pissed him off and chased him out."

Quarrel aside, he still knew how to throw his weight around.

Deputy Magistrate Sun instantly felt a new respect for him.

Just now, Pei Mingqi had brushed past him in towering rage—such a big man, a single slap could send him flying over the wall.

Deputy Magistrate Sun was reassessing Le Wuya’s importance when Le Wuya locked eyes with him and flashed a brilliant smile.

For some reason, a shiver ran down Sun Ru’s spine.

Le Wuya: "Deputy Magistrate Sun, there’s something we didn’t finish yesterday. Let’s have a heart-to-heart."

...

Seething with resentment, Pei Mingqi stormed out of the government office, taking the steps three at a time.

The Deputy General, used to this by now, handed him his horsewhip.

Pei Mingqi said grimly, "Buy some good quality wound medicine and send it to that fellow Wenren."

The Deputy General was startled. "You..." He wondered if the young general had lost it and killed the magistrate.

But seeing no weapon on Pei Mingqi, he slightly relaxed and probed, "For knife wounds or bruises?"

Pei Mingqi said impatiently, "Buy both! Say one more word, and I’ll make you pay for a whole pharmacy just for him!"

The Deputy General said not a word more and boomed his reply: "Yes!"

He then said seriously, "Young general, since the Imperial Commissioner has left, let me handle the affairs of Nanting. The military duties..."

Pei Mingqi interrupted him: "I’m staying here."

The Deputy General again boomed his reply: "Yes!"

"Prepare the brush and ink." Pei Mingqi paced a few steps irritably beside the horse. "Find the address of Minister Chang’s residence in the Ministry of Rites. I need to send a letter."

The Deputy General was startled and lowered his voice. "Young general, Minister Chang is sixty years old. At that age, you can’t just send a letter chewing him out!"

Pei Mingqi raised the whip as if to hit him. "If you were Minister Chang, I’d chew you out two hundred times a day! I’m going to get to the bottom of this!"

The Deputy General ducked behind the horse, gathered his nerve, and risked a beating to whisper, "Young general, the words of traveling Taoists cannot be fully trusted. That incense burner broke—let’s just say that person has passed on."

Pei Mingqi lowered his brows, his eyes narrowed in thought, as if lost in thought.

After a while, he said softly, "You’re right."

"I won’t write to Minister Chang. This has nothing to do with him. It was that hermit son of his who found the connection. No need to trouble him further."

The Deputy General had just shown a look of relief when he heard Pei Mingqi grit his teeth and say fiercely, "...Could it be that He Lianche deceived me? Does he hate Wuyue that much?"

At this thought, Pei Mingqi pointed at the stunned Deputy General: "Still prepare the brush and ink. I’ll write a letter, and you memorize it. Go find the envoy of the Jing tribe and, word for word without changing a thing, curse him out!"

He added, "While delivering the letter to the envoy, also send a message to the spies still within Jing territory, telling them to investigate carefully whether the Jing tribe has secretly contacted private coal mines in our dynasty, smuggling small amounts of coal into their territory—accumulating grains of sand to build a tower. I suspect the Jing tribe intends to start another war."

The Deputy General: "...Yes."

With these two orders given together, he had no idea whether his young general was being fierce or clever.

Pei Mingqi grabbed the reins, ready to mount.

He thought of one more thing, turned around, and asked, "By the way, what’s a 'geng tie' (betrothal card)?"

The Deputy General, who was about to mount his horse, almost missed his step and fell off.

After recovering, he was on the verge of tears of joy.

Although the young general was still as fierce as ever, leaping from heaven to earth, he had finally started thinking about serious matters!!

He eagerly asked, "Which young lady has the young general taken a fancy to?"

Pei Mingqi gave him a dirty look. "Are you sick?"

Both fell silent.

A subtle change flickered in Pei Mingqi’s gaze. "...What exactly does 'exchanging betrothal cards' mean?"

...

After concluding their second heart-to-heart talk, Le Wuya had managed to drain the color from Deputy Magistrate Sun’s face.

Le Wuya couldn't give a damn about Deputy Magistrate Sun.

He stretched contentedly, feeling that it was about time to get some sleep.

In his previous life, he never had a set time off—court, work, social events, max five days a year. He had long developed the habit of dozing off wherever he could curl up.

His longest rest period was waiting for death in the hellhole he'd built.

Thus, when he woke from a long afternoon nap to find the world pitch black, with only a red gauze lamp flickering, he could hardly believe such comfort was real.

In his daze, past and present blurred together before Le Wuya's eyes.

It was as if he were still leaning on Pei Mingqi's arm, waking from a light sleep, with starlight and dewdrops settling on his lashes, cool and clean.

The wilds stretched out, sky low, stars streaming like a river.

He pursed his lips, still tasting the cool green aftertaste of grass at the corners of his mouth.

Then Pei Mingqi whispered to him out of nowhere: "One thousand eight hundred and sixty-two."

Le Wuya was still groggy from sleep and didn't understand what he meant. He just stared at him blankly, moving his head slightly, only to draw a cry of pain from Pei Mingqi: "My arm! It's dead, dead!"

Now, tucked in bed, Le Wuya suddenly got what Pei Mingqi meant.

One thousand eight hundred and sixty-two stars.

He actually went and counted them.

Le Wuya, still dazed, heard a knock on the window from outside, with the same rhythm as last night.

Le Wuya squinted and got out of bed. He opened the window and saw stars blanketing the ground—and him standing there.

Le Wuya rubbed his eyes. "You're here?"

Wenren Yue: "Yeah."

Le Wuya asked directly: "What's your birth date and Eight Characters?"

Wenren Yue looked slightly puzzled but answered promptly: "I was born in the Xinwei year, on the second day of the second month, Dragon Head Festival... I should have been born around 5:30 PM. What's up?"

Le Wuya was stunned, thinking that this didn't match his own.

But he soon let it go.

He didn't even know his own birth time; only knew he was about a year older than Little Phoenix.

Le Wuya's hair was loose, perhaps due to the long sleep, falling in beautiful waves, making his delicate features look almost snow-white and dazzling.

Wenren Yue looked down and saw him standing barefoot on the stone floor. Worried, he reached out to feel his forehead: "What's wrong?"

Le Wuya finally realized something was off.

Without any explanation, he cupped Wenren Yue's face with both hands, kneading and squeezing his cheeks left and right, then asked suspiciously: "...Why hasn't your appearance changed?"