Chapter 91: Heart Demon (I)

Chapter 91: Heart Demon (I)

The courier inn on the outskirts of the capital had just seen off a batch of guests, settling into a quiet stillness after all the commotion.

The tables and chairs downstairs were slightly out of place, empty of people, with no other sound.

Only summer insects chirped in the lingering heat, calling out to one another, answering in chorus.

The moment Le Jue recognized Le Wuya's face, his expression shifted drastically, his heart sinking like a stone, frozen in his chest.

Even the ever-composed Le Hang's expression went blank for a fleeting moment.

But Le Wuya merely leaned against the doorframe, casting them a brief, indifferent glance, nodded slightly in greeting, then stepped out of the room: "Where's the courier?"

Only one courier was in the main hall, busy sorting letters. Hearing the call, he hurried over with small steps and asked politely, "What can I do for you, sir?"

Le Wuya leaned against the railing with a smile: "Could you send up some simple grub? Anything that fills the belly works."

In the few moments Le Wuya spoke with the courier, Le Hang had already composed his expression.

He ascended the stairs in a few strides and bowed: "Magistrate Wenren, I am Le Hang, Erudite of the Imperial Academy, styled Huai Jin. I came specifically to thank you for your help on the main street today."

Hearing his voice, Le Wuya turned his head slightly, revealing a look of dawning recognition that was perfectly timed: "Ah, Lord Le. I remember your voice."

He returned the bow: "Wen Ren Yue, Magistrate of Nanting, styled Ming Ke. It was nothing, really—please, Erudite Yue, don't give it another thought. A gentleman's greatest virtue is helping others; it's only right."

Gazing at this face so much like his late younger brother's, Le Hang's heart churned with emotion, but his face gave nothing away.

He turned slightly, glancing back over his shoulder.

Only then did Le Jue snap out of his daze, an inexplicable wave of excitement washing over him.

Clutching gifts in both hands, he clattered past Le Hang with quick, eager steps to stand before Le Wuya. He gave a hasty bow first, then, without ceremony, threw his arms open and pulled Le Wuya into an embrace, declaring in a booming voice: "Magistrate Wenren, thank you for helping my elder brother!"

Le Wuya was small-built and found himself completely enveloped.

It was a hearty embrace—warm, springy, and full of feeling.

But Le Wuya was bewildered by it, peering over the shoulder of this warrior who towered a full head taller than him, looking at Le Hang behind him with a questioning look.

Le Hang said nothing, his gaze resting on his younger brother's back while his peripheral vision kept tabs on the young magistrate's expression.

Le Jue was a stranger to this Magistrate Wenren, and his temperament was exceptionally warm and impulsive. By all rights, Le Hang should have stepped into his elder brother role and introduced him to Wen Ren Yue.

But when it came down to it, Le Hang silently swallowed the introduction.

A sudden curiosity hit him: if his younger brother kicked up a fuss, how would this magistrate react?

If it'd been Ali...

If only...

Le Jue let go, straightened up, and studied the refined young man before him.

Somehow, seeing this face, he couldn't help but want to cut loose.

His tone was lively, his words came fast: "I'm Le Jue, styled Wo Yu, captain of the firearms squad at Guanshan Camp on the outskirts of the capital!"

"My brother's just a scholarly type—a bit soft when trouble hits." He made a fierce gesture with his fist. "If I'd been there, I'd have beaten that Yuan Xiao'er to a pulp!"

Le Wuya smiled, looking confused, and nodded in acknowledgment, then looked back at Le Hang with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Cut the nonsense." Le Hang lightly scolded Le Jue's attempt, then added, "Haven't you eaten yet, Magistrate Wenren?"

"Not yet."

"I've got some modest food prepared at my place. Would you mind stopping by for a bit?"

"No." Le Wuya declined pretty firmly: "...It's not that I'm trying to be stuck-up, but I've come on official orders, my future's uncertain, luck unknown. I should keep to myself and not drag anyone else into trouble. If Ming Ke can get through this ordeal, I will certainly pay a visit to your residence—how does that sound?"

His words were sincere and thoughtful, leaving no room for criticism or refusal.

Seeing Le Hang hesitate, Le Jue got anxious: "Don't!"

He grasped Le Wuya's arm, speaking urgently: "Magistrate Wenren, don't mind me being blunt or speaking too freely for someone you just met. My mother has recently been unwell—she never seems to get better, often drifting in and out of consciousness. Yesterday I sat with her for a long while, and she kept calling my younger brother's name."

"Has anyone ever told you you look a lot like..."

Seeing him about to cross the line, Le Hang had to raise his voice: "A Yu!"

Le Jue knew he'd been too hasty, bordering on rude.

He hung his head, like a big, confused animal.

...Just like when he'd messed up as a kid.

But he was no kid anymore.

Soon, Le Jue adjusted his tone, getting back to his cheerful self: "Magistrate Wenren, I lost my cool—please don't take it to heart. Just think of it as me getting carried away and talking nonsense. You promised to come to our place—once your business is done... you can't back out!"

With that, he dutifully carried his armful of gifts into Le Wuya's room.

As they parted, Le Jue tentatively sidled up to Le Wuya, half-wanting to hug him again.

His brother saw through him at a glance and swiftly snatched him away.

...

When they arrived, the sky was still clear.

When they left, dusk had already set in.

The two brothers led their horses instead of riding, walking side by side.

Le Jue muttered under his breath: "...So much alike."

Le Hang: "Mm. There are a thousand faces in the world, but there are always similarities."

"No, I still think he looks like him. Let's take him back to show Mom—she'd be thrilled." Le Jue stopped, eagerly proposing a crazy scheme: "Let's turn back. He's small enough—I could scoop him up and run, just haul him off to our place. Problem solved, right?"

Le Hang was speechless for a moment, then reminded him: "...The Le family isn't exactly well-regarded these days. Being close to us isn't a good thing."

Le Jue paused, pursed his lips, and reluctantly admitted his brother had a point.

He trudged forward two steps, looking dejected, then asked: "Hey, you think he turned down our invite because he knows about our family and is dodging us?"

Le Hang could tell Magistrate Wenren wasn't that kind of person.

But to squash Le Jue's wild idea of going back to snatch the guy, he answered vaguely: "Hard to say."

Le Jue didn't know what to say, let out a sigh, and then muttered under his breath, "He really does look like him."

After walking a few dozen paces, Le Jue spoke again.

Though a rough-and-ready sort of man, Le Jue occasionally had flashes of insight: "Brother, when I hugged him, did anything seem off about him?"

Le Hang shook his head seriously this time: "No."

Le Jue let out a breath to ease the suffocating tightness in his chest.

They fell silent for a moment, then Le Jue suddenly thought of something, swung around to walk in front of Le Hang, and began walking backward, trying to lighten the heavy mood with a joke: "Brother, you don't even believe in water monkeys, so how come you're superstitious about reincarnation?"

"There's no such thing as water monkeys," Le Hang said with all seriousness. "...But Ali lived. Hoping my loved ones are reborn isn't superstition."

...

After seeing off the second round of visitors that day, Le Wuya shed his courteous, gentlemanly demeanor, his back going soft as he lazily draped himself over the railing on the second floor.

The courier had waited patiently for the two guests to finish their pleasantries with Le Wuya before stepping forward: "Lord Wenren, any dietary restrictions I should know about?"

Le Wuya tried to stick his head through the gap in the railing. No luck.

He sighed softly and gazed into the distance: "No need."

The courier had seen officials from all over come and go, but he'd never seen one so childlike.

Hiding a smile, he urged, "My lord, with the summer heat ruining your appetite, you still can't skip meals."

Le Wuya said nothing, just slipped him some silver.

The courier got the message right away, said no more, and bowed as he withdrew.

Le Wuya figured he still had one more guest who hadn't arrived yet.

So he couldn't eat.

Once he ate his fill, he'd get drowsy, and his heart would soften.

And so, Le Wuya waited on an empty stomach until the moon climbed past the western tower.

When a knock came at the door, Le Wuya was counting the saffron threads in the gold box, just having reached the thousandth one.

Outside the door stood a cloaked figure.

Le Wuya smiled, knowing this person was just as fussy as he was, and went ahead and pulled back the hood: "Aren't you dying of heat in that?"

To his surprise, the face beneath the hood was completely unexpected.

Fortunately, Jiang He couldn't see his bewilderment—his expression was one of stoic delight: "Lord Wenren, it's good to see you again."

After the greeting, he offered a letter with both hands: "Someone invites you—five li southeast, under the ginkgo tree at the northwest corner of Golden Terrace."

Le Wuya unfolded the letter.

What greeted his eyes was Xiao Qi's handwriting.

Le Wuya was even more puzzled.

He asked, "Aren't you in Sixth Master's service?"

Jiang He nodded firmly: "Yes. Sixth Master told me to deliver the letter."

Le Wuya didn't believe it.

His first thought was whether that fox who liked to play at being both Seven and Six had tricked him again.

But Jiang He's next words put his doubts to rest: "...When Sixth Master handed me the letter, Seventh Master was right there beside him."

Jiang He said this with complete confidence.

There was no way he'd delivered the wrong letter or messed up the task this time.

But Le Wuya was shaken to the core.

He tucked the letter into his robes, gave Jiang He a pat on the shoulder, and went straight downstairs, led out his horse, leaped onto it, and galloped away.

Those two brothers had long been at odds—estranged in spirit if not in name. Xiao Qi in particular bore a heavy grudge, nursing a deep loathing for his brother.

Unless something unexpected happened, cooperation between them was impossible.

But there was one possibility.

Xiao Qi... had bowed his head to Xiao Liu.

This was the capital.

If Xiao Qi wanted to meet with him without prying eyes, he'd have no choice but to grit his teeth and use Jiang He as a messenger.

There was no one around him he could trust.

Or rather, ever since that brand had been burned onto him, he'd been forced to shed his childish innocence, becoming overnight a wary, sensitive adult who couldn't trust anyone.

...

Before Golden Terrace, beneath the ginkgo tree, the man was already there.

The place was wide open—within a hundred paces, they were the only two souls in sight.

Le Wuya dismounted and walked step by step toward that solitary, tall silhouette.

Before he reached him, a gust of wind carried the crisp scent of wine.

An inexplicable weight settled in Le Wuya's chest as he called out softly, "Xiu Guan?"

Le Wuya wasn't lying: he could recognize him even from the back alone.

The figure stumbled, then turned around.

Smiling before speaking had nearly become an ingrained habit of his: "You came?"

Xiang Zhi tried to step toward him, but his legs gave out, and he made as if to collapse.

The stumble was so obviously fake that Le Wuya saw through it at a glance.

But he had no choice—he opened his arms and caught him.

A soft, warm body tumbled into his embrace, giving off a faint scent of pine branches.

Xiang Zhi drawled lazily, barely managing to hide the sorrow in his voice: "Teacher, if you were going to rise from the dead, why didn't you let me know?"