Chapter 108: Childhood Friends (Part 1)

Chapter 108: Childhood Friends (Part 1)

When Deputy Magistrate Sun heard that the son of a First-Rank Official was coming to Nanting to settle down for practical training, given his nature as a man obsessed with climbing the official ladder, he should have bustled about making grand preparations to flatter this young master.

But Sun Ru sat idly in the yamen, and asking himself honestly, he had to admit he wasn't surprised in the least—he had even grown somewhat numb to it all:

So let him come, then.

It wasn't as if the emperor himself were arriving.

He laid out a welcome banquet according to protocol, playing host to Yuan Zijin and Pei Mingqi.

Yuan Zijin, a stranger in a strange land, was restless and had no appetite, picking at his food like a bird.

As for Pei Mingqi, he simply had something on his mind, keeping his head down as he shelled a big bowl of shrimp, then shoved the whole bowl in front of Le Wuya, like he was guilty, not daring to look at him once.

Deputy Magistrate Sun picked up on the weird vibe at the table and, without hesitation, quickly ran through all the formalities, then with a big smile, led the downcast Yuan Zijin to a guest room in the rear compound that had just been tidied up.

The moment the door closed, his face went blank:

What kind of life was this, day in and day out?

He was done with this.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he gave a violent shudder, convinced that he had just run into some rogue deity on the road to have such a treasonous, outrageous thought.

He immediately pressed his palms together and bowed in all directions: "Sorry, Lord of Fortune, that was just a slip of the tongue—I take it back, please don't take offense."

Just as he finished praying and turned around, he saw Pei Mingqi carrying the county magistrate over his shoulder, bold as you please, passing through the center of the courtyard, his boots thudding on the stone path.

The magistrate lay draped over his shoulder, clearly too lazy to struggle, casually looking around.

Deputy Magistrate Sun dared not look closely. He spun around so fast that he banged his head right into Yuan Zijin's door.

Yuan Zijin, newly arrived and still figuring out how things worked around here, jumped at the rude bang on the door. After hesitating for a moment, he figured it wasn't the time to throw a rich-kid fit, so he called out in a muffled voice from inside: "Who is it?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun, in a panic, flattened himself against the door: "Everything's fine, nothing's wrong! Don't come out!"

At that, Yuan Zijin got all gloomy.

He, the second young master of a First-Rank Official's household, had come to this remote border town, and nobody gave him the time of day. He couldn't even leave his room without being controlled, tied up in knots, no freedom at all.

He might as well just die.

Feeling a wave of homesickness, he climbed into bed, hugged the quilt, and grumbled to himself: Why isn't this satin? How am I supposed to sleep on this?

Still feeling sorry for himself, he fell into a deep sleep.

...

Feeling Deputy Magistrate Sun's sneaky stare, Le Wuya was as calm as can be, lying on Pei Mingqi's shoulder: "Look at you, dragging me down with you."

Pei Mingqi tore off like the wind: "You walk too slowly!"

He was in such a rush, like he was heading to his own wedding night. Yet when he set Le Wuya down on the hall table and turned to close the door, his high spirits suddenly vanished.

Pei Mingqi's hands were on the doors, and even he himself was surprised.

But he couldn't find the strength to turn around and face Le Wuya directly.

He lowered his head, staring at his feet as he scuffed them back and forth on the ground.

A big, burly guy like him, in just a few breaths, had turned back into the little rich kid of his youth, who used to pace nervously behind the Le family's back wall after messing up, hands clasped behind his back.

Seeing him standing with his back turned, quiet and pretending to be a statue, Le Wuya casually grabbed a feather duster from nearby and jabbed him in the side: "Hey, what are you doing? Come to my room to serve your sentence?"

Le Wuya managed to poke him into turning around.

However, Pei Mingqi kept his head bowed, showing only the top of his head.

Le Wuya sat cross-legged on the table, just about level with Pei Mingqi's eyes.

Looking at him like this, Le Wuya's mind wandered back to when they were kids.

After their millionth fight, Le Wuya had been restless with irritation, hoping he'd come over and apologize.

He waited until he grew anxious, then finally broke into a run to the back door, peeking over the wall to watch him pacing in circles outside his own door.

Le Wuya cursed inwardly at him for not coming in, for circling like a donkey pulling a millstone, while his heart, as if soaked in vinegar, kept turning sour and soft, and he wished he could leap out the door, grab him by the ear, and drag him inside.

Remembering how the two of them had played their little mind games across the wall as children, Le Wuya felt a surge of childlike mischief. He wanted to poke his hair crown with the feather duster, but Pei Mingqi grabbed the other end of the duster.

"Little crow," Pei Mingqi murmured. "...Crow."

...

For Pei Mingqi, the good days between him and Le Wuya ended the day he was shot off his horse by He Lieche.

After the battle, he charged into Tongma City with Le Wuya in his arms, not saying a word, wanting to call for the military physician. But those two words were like two balls of fire, trapped in his chest, burning his organs, yet refusing to come out.

More and more people gathered around. Someone shouted desperately, "Young General Pei, let go!" Only then did he dazedly release his hold, handing over the unconscious Le Wuya.

It was only then that he realized why he couldn't make a sound—his upper and lower teeth were clenched so tightly together that they simply wouldn't come apart.

Under the setting sun, he crouched outside the courtyard, listening to the three military physicians urgently discussing how to remove the arrow from Le Wuya.

Pei Mingqi's hands were covered in Le Wuya's blood. He could only wipe his eyes with his shoulder, finding only a dull ache beneath, no tears.

At that moment, the dying sunlight spilled across his outstretched palms, and he truly couldn't tell if it was light or blood.

Le Wuya was barely saved, but he held on with his last breath, insisting on returning to the capital, refusing to listen to anyone.

Pei Mingqi clenched his fists in fury, wanting to beat him senseless.

But Le Wuya lay in bed, having drained half his body's blood, his frame so thin he seemed to have merged with the quilt.

Forget taking a punch—Pei Mingqi suspected that even a single breath blown his way might scatter the little life he had left.

Since force wouldn't work, he tried softness.

He knelt half by the bedside, pleading bitterly: "Little crow, don't go. Your body can't make it back to the capital—you'll be jolted apart on the road. Do it for me, won't you?"

Le Wuya tilted his head, giving him a weak, pale smile: "For you, I still have to go. Better to die on the road. ...When you're old and dead, I'll marry you then. By that time, I'll be in the prime of my youth—what a waste, letting an old codger like you have me."

At this brilliant remark, Pei Mingqi's head spun, and he wished he could just strangle him.

But he had no mind for romance now. When no one was looking, he knelt fully down, pressing his palms together in supplication: "Crow, I beg you, don't go. Wait until you've healed, and I'll go back with you. We'll never return to the border again, alright?"

Le Wuya let out a breath and struggled to sit up: "I beg you too."

His eyes were slightly sunken, making them all the more bright and striking, almost giving him a mischievous, almost otherworldly look: "...Little Phoenix, let me go back where I belong."

To Pei Mingqi at that time, he could not understand where the "place he belonged" that he spoke of was.

With only a dozen or so years of life under his belt, other than by his own side, there was nowhere Le Wuya ought to be.

At that moment, only one thought filled his mind: the little crow was begging him.

He'd always had a sweet mouth and a soft manner; he could toss out spineless pleas like "pretty please" without a second thought.

But Pei Mingqi could never turn down his "please's."

Pei Mingqi's throat stayed clogged for a long while.

Only when the bitter, acrid lump in his throat finally dissolved did he hear himself say, just like always, "Okay."

Along the way, Pei Mingqi bought every ginseng root he could get his hands on, practically trying to marinate Le Wuya in a vat of ginseng. To procure ten century-old ginseng roots, said to be able to snatch the dead back from the edge of the River of Forgetfulness, he even ditched the escort convoy and rode nonstop to Jiangnan without a wink of sleep.

Pei Mingqi had military duties and couldn't stay long in the capital.

When he parted with Le Wuya, he couldn't bear to leave, looking back every few steps, like he was bewitched—his eyes and heart full of only him.

Pei Mingqi was posted at the border and couldn't move an inch. Even when his father went to the capital to report for duty, he couldn't beg to go along—he was the only grown heir of the Pei family, and Pei Shaoji was still a snot-nosed brat.

With his father gone, he had to carry the weight.

News about Le Wuya kept trickling back from the capital.

At first, all the news was good.

Le Wuya had taken a teaching post at the palace, then aced the imperial exams to become the top scholar—the very picture of success and happiness, riding high in his prime.

Pei Mingqi thought cheerfully, good for him—he can make something of himself anywhere.

Later, Pei Mingqi found out he'd gotten married.

When he heard the news, his gaze went unfocused, staring into empty space for a long time before he asked in a low voice, "What day?"

His voice was so soft it nearly snapped in the wind.

The messenger soldier was barely more than a kid, knowing only that Young General Pei and Lord Yue of the capital had grown up together. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and answered brightly, "The first of the sixth month! A lucky day for weddings!"

"...Which nobleman's daughter did he marry?"

The young soldier answered loud and clear, leaving Pei Mingqi no chance to pretend he hadn't heard: "I heard she's a princess of some commandery!"

Pei Mingqi waved him off: "Scram, go get your reward."

He was the Junior General, the backbone of the army—even if he was falling apart inside, he couldn't show it in front of the men.

So Pei Mingqi could only grit his teeth and bear the ache in his heart, not daring to touch a single cup of wine, feeling every bit of lovesickness in stark, sober clarity.

At the border's year-end feast, half a year after Le Wuya's wedding, Pei Mingqi got Pei Ying's permission to finally get properly wasted.

Once he was drunk, a bunch of soldiers hauled him onto his cot.

Surrounded by the young soldiers, he muttered under his breath, "The little crow got married."

The young guys didn't get it, exchanging confused looks.

One of them guessed, "Is the Young General annoyed by that old crow's nest in the tree outside?"

Lately, that empty crow's nest in the tree had been taken over by seven or eight crows, whole family and all, who'd belt out raucous songs at dusk.

Another thought that made sense: "Let's knock it down!"

The young men scrambled to set up ladders and climb the tree, while Pei Mingqi leaned back on the cot, his mind blank yet somehow stuffed full—couldn't spit it out, couldn't swallow it down, just had to bear it, and it was wearing him out.

Later, the little crow's rank climbed higher and higher, but the news that reached his ears got worse and worse—so bad Pei Mingqi couldn't believe it.

He kept wanting to go back to the capital to see him, to talk to the little crow.

It was Pei Ying who talked him down: "Fengyou, everyone walks their own road."

Pei Mingqi dug in his heels: "He's not that kind of person!"

Pei Ying opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but in the end, all that came out was a long, soft sigh: "How long's it been since you last saw him?"

That one question shut Pei Mingqi up.

He wasn't a kid anymore; he knew people were bound to change.

But back then, he'd still been too naive.

...People do change, but every change has a root cause.

...

Pei Mingqi faced off with him for a moment, then with a sudden surge of strength yanked the feather duster out of his hand.

As Le Wuya pitched forward, he stepped in as if it were the most natural thing in the world and caught him in his arms.

Pei Mingqi asked in a tiny voice, "Have I changed that much? Gotten old, turned ugly?"

Le Wuya knew he and Pei Mingqi were in for a long talk tonight, but he had no idea why he'd start with that.

He teased him lightly, "General Pei's looks are just as fine as ever—even better than before."

"Oh yeah?" Pei Mingqi mumbled, "Then how come when you were walking down the street, you didn't recognize me?"

Le Wuya's heart went empty; he licked his lips and told the truth: "I was mad at you."

At their reunion after death on the long street of Nanting, Le Wuya didn't yet know his face had changed. It wasn't guilt that made him turn and leave when he saw Pei Mingqi.

The reason he turned and walked away was simple—Le Wuya had a petty heart and was holding a grudge against Pei Mingqi.

He'd dared to play the "don't recognize me" game with him on the capital's main street, so he'd return the favor to make it even.

Pei Mingqi's heart plunged straight into a frying pan.

He hung his head like a little kid, mumbling, "It's my fault. Don't be mad at me anymore, okay?"

Le Wuya let out a long breath, opened his arms, and hugged him from behind.

...It had always been this way.

The phoenix and the crow—as long as they were willing to apologize to each other, they could forgive even the worst mistakes.

Le Wuya still had the nerve to grin at him cheekily: "A hug's enough? Forget a hug—you should carry me on your head."

Pei Mingqi felt a deep, satisfying ease settle through his whole body at these words, so shameless and airheaded, as if the soul that had wandered off years ago had finally come back to him in one fell swoop.

Before he could bask in the joy for long, Le Wuya gave him a little shove. "Alright, alright, you've got a wife now. Hugging and clinging to me like this—it's not proper."

Pei Mingqi: "I have no wife."

Le Wuya didn't quite catch his meaning: "...What?"

"No wife." Pei Mingqi looked at him steadily. "Only you."