Chapter 173: Confession (3)

Chapter 173: Confession (3)

Seeing that Le Wuya's emotions had calmed somewhat, Wenren Yue breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He raised his hand and pressed it against his left chest.

He couldn't bear to see Brother Gu tormenting himself like this.

He wished Brother Gu could always be as he was when they first met—spirited and bold, holding the reins with one hand, reaching out to him and saying, "Brother Wenren, let me find you a way to survive."

Or sitting in the courtroom hearing cases, lofty and aloof, with features as beautiful as a painting.

Outside, the moonlight was dim and hazy; he was a moon of his own.

At once real, illusory, and gentle.

Wenren Yue gazed at his face for a long while, lowered his head, smiled faintly, and rose to fetch water to clean him off.

Unexpectedly, in the time it took to boil a pot of water, the man in the bed had vanished without a trace.

Holding a basin of hot water, he stared at the empty bed, a little dumbfounded.

...

Le Wuya, on his own steam, climbed all the way up to the rooftop.

When he was young, he often climbed walls, trees, and rooftops, using every trick he knew to sneak over to Little Phoenix's house, determined to drag Little Phoenix out.

He was a master at this—an ordinary rooftop only needed a single glance for him to figure out four or five ways to scale it.

Le Wuya slipped onto the rooftop, feeling ambitious, thinking he would go find Little Phoenix and tell him that he truly wouldn't go with him.

But when he reached the rooftop, he realized his surroundings were nothing like the capital.

Looking out, all he could see were the blue bricks and dark tiles unique to Jiangnan water towns.

Holding onto the roof ridge ornament, he suddenly felt a twinge of guilt, thinking, whose house did I climb onto this time?

Though Le Wuya was mischievous, he understood the rule about not going where you're not invited.

Barefoot, he padded across the tiles, gliding silently across the linked rooftops, trying to find his way back to familiar ground.

The autumn night was bitingly cold, and Le Wuya, wearing only his underclothes, soon couldn't take the cold.

At this moment, his mind had narrowed to a single thought—he didn't think to find somewhere warm to hole up, just hunched over and kept moving forward, wanting to get out of this unfamiliar maze fast.

A cold gust of wind swept by, and Le Wuya couldn't help sneezing.

Unexpectedly, a stern shout came from below: "Who's up there?!"

Realizing he was in trouble, Le Wuya tried to run, but unfortunately, the rice wine had gone to his head. As soon as he took a step, he tripped over his own feet with a thud, then tumbled down the roof along with three or four broken tiles.

Yuan Zijin, who had seen the whole thing, stared in disbelief.

This thief really had some nerve—wearing white and strolling around the rooftops of the government office's rear courtyard.

And yet such a coward—one shout from him had caused all this chaos.

However, as he watched the figure tumble down the eaves, Yuan Zijin had a vague feeling the silhouette looked familiar.

In a flash, he realized who it was, shouted in shock, and lunged to catch him.

But the man beside him was even faster—silently springing forward, catching the falling man in his arms and using his own body as a cushion.

The two rolled together on the bluestone path, both knocked dizzy.

Le Wuya lay on top of him, slowly recognizing who had caught him, and cheered: "Xiao Qi, you're here too?"

Yuan Zijin, who had been silently calling Le Wuya a scaredy-cat, was so terrified by the name "Xiao Qi" that he nearly jumped out of his skin.

If this Wenren guy didn't care about his own life, he shouldn't drag him into it!

He tried to shrink back, hoping to pretend he didn't exist.

But Xiang Zhi didn't have time to worry about that now.

His left arm had taken the brunt of the fall and was throbbing with pain.

His back had probably been scraped raw, and a burning pain was spreading from the wound.

Still, he bore the pain and slowly ran his hands over Le Wuya's body.

Good. Everything's in one piece.

Xiang Zhi struggled to sit up, still holding Le Wuya, looking at his dazed face up close, catching the faint smell of rice wine on him, and found this look of his kind of amusing.

He'd never seen Le Wuya like this.

Xiang Zhi tucked his tousled hair behind his ear for him: "What are you doing running around up here?"

Le Wuya looked at him, his thoughts tangled between past and future until they were a complete mess.

Not knowing what to say, he just smiled at Xiang Zhi.

When he was young, this was how he'd always been with Little Phoenix—when he messed up, he'd give him a cheeky, shameless grin.

Others didn't know, but Little Phoenix always fell for that trick.

Sure enough, Xiang Zhi's eyes softened.

But beneath that softness, something else stirred.

"What are you smiling at? Cat got your tongue?" He gave Le Wuya an affectionate shake, ignoring the throbbing ache in his arm: "I came all this way—was it just to watch you die in front of me?"

Yuan Zijin watched from the sidelines, shaking in his boots.

...He couldn't tell if the Seventh Prince was joking or actually scolding Wenren Ming Ke.

Seeing the Seventh Prince's half-smile, Yuan Zijin got goosebumps for no reason.

Creepy.

He carefully tucked his father's letter behind his back, afraid it might get ruined if he had to break up the fight.

Luckily, the Seventh Prince didn't hit or scold Le Wuya.

Once he'd caught his breath, Xiang Zhi slowly stood up, still holding Le Wuya, and asked Yuan Zijin, "Where does he live?"

Yuan Zijin, who stuck close to Le Wuya, had at least learned to read the room despite his naturally loud personality.

He pressed his lips together and pointed ahead.

Xiang Zhi said, "Thanks."

Bearing the pain, he tucked the drunk man against his chest and carried him straight back to the room.

The backyard of the government office was nothing like Nanting's—it was far too large. He'd barely passed through two moon gates before he was completely lost.

Luckily, Wen Ren was already scouring the courtyard for the runaway Le Wuya. Seeing the two of them stuck together like glue as they came toward him, he froze for a beat, then snapped out of it and hurried over, forgetting even to bow or say hello: "What happened?"

Xiang Zhi said breezily, "He was being a little brat, climbed up on the roof, and fell off."

Wen Ren's heart seized at that. He wanted to check Le Wuya for injuries, but his eye inadvertently caught a coin-sized bloodstain seeping through the sleeve at Xiang Zhi's left elbow.

Wen Ren said, "Seventh Prince, you—"

Xiang Zhi wasn't having any of it, his tone brisk: "Move."

"I'm hurting all over. Don't bother me."

Wen Ren still couldn't let it go. He trailed beside Xiang Zhi, hastily scanning Le Wuya for injuries.

Luckily, Le Wuya was in a set of snow-white undergarments—any scrapes or bleeding would've been obvious at a glance.

As it was, he seemed to have only rolled around in a layer of dust.

Somewhat relieved, Wen Ren watched helplessly as Xiang Zhi carried Le Wuya into the room and unceremoniously kicked the door shut.

Wen Ren turned and spotted Yuan Zijin peeking around the moon gate.

He waved him over.

Yuan Zijin ran over, still shaken: "Scholar Ming, you have no idea—I nearly scared myself to death just now!"

The two knew each other well from constantly running into each other in Nanting, and Yuan Zijin, used to calling him Scholar Ming like everyone else, hadn't quite gotten used to calling him Juren Ming.

Wen Ren had a good temper and didn't sweat the small stuff: "How'd the Seventh Prince end up here too?"

Yuan Zijin had been dying to talk, and once he started, he couldn't stop: "You're asking me? A while back, Ming Ke told me to lead the troops, yeah? I was chatting with my guys, and found out they'd never even had braised pork hock. I figured, since they were following me, how could I let them go without? So I went to Li's butcher shop in town and picked up a big hock. On my way back, I ran into the Seventh Prince... He was wearing a hood and said he was delivering a letter from my dad. I didn't recognize him at first—I was so happy about the letter, figured he was just someone my dad sent. Got carried away, picked him up and spun him around a few times, and that's how his hood came off..."

Even as a faint sourness stirred in his chest, Wen Ren couldn't help but smile at Yuan Zijin's plain, slightly put-out account.

"You're laughing! I was scared to death!" Yuan Zijin patted his chest. "I was leading him inside when I saw Ming Ke up on the roof tearing off tiles... What a night..."

He rambled on until it suddenly hit him, and his scalp went numb.

"...Wait, what do you mean, 'too'?"

Wen Ren reached out and patted his shoulder.

Watching the boy slowly catch on, his face turning red as a beet, Wen Ren said, "I'll go with Hua Rong to get a room ready for the Seventh Prince. In a bit, bring him some medicine for his wounds and tell him to get some rest."

Having witnessed too many shocking scenes today, even Yuan Zijin was overwhelmed: "Why me?"

"He doesn't like me," Wen Ren said. "You're his excuse for coming here. At least he'll be polite to you."

Yuan Zijin didn't get it and let out a confused "Huh?"

But he trusted Wen Ren.

At least he'd never lied to him.

So, following Er Ya's lead, he crouched in a sheltered spot by Le Wuya's door, pulled out the letter from home, and under the moonlight, happily read what his old man had written him.

Though it wasn't wartime, Yuan Zijin still felt this letter was worth its weight in gold.

...

No matter the racket outside, Xiang Zhi paid it no mind.

He settled Le Wuya onto the bed. Using the hot water Wen Ren had prepared, he wiped his hands and feet clean, then sat down. He stared at Le Wuya for a while, then felt a sudden itch in his teeth. He pulled Le Wuya's cold hand out from under the blanket, brought it to his mouth, and pretended to bite.

Le Wuya had worn himself out climbing around all day, drowsy and heavy-lidded, with no energy left to stop his nonsense.

Failing to scare him, Xiang Zhi warmed his hand in his own for a moment before tucking it back: "Just kidding. I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt again."

He stood, leaning over slightly, admiring Le Wuya's sleeping face, a smile unconsciously tugging at the corner of his mouth.

At that moment, Xiang Zhi's expression was as gentle as his sixth brother's, but his words were anything but kind: "Look, everyone else only sees you at your best—who knows all your pathetic moments are saved just for me."

The corner of Le Wuya's mouth curled up faintly.

After all that commotion, he'd broken a sweat, the effects of the fermented rice wine fading, his thoughts gradually clearing. But his limbs were sore and weak, and he simply couldn't be bothered to move.

"What are you smiling at? Think you're something special?" Xiang Zhi snorted. "Can't break you, can I?"

Le Wuya leaned against the bed, smiling softly and lazily.

For some reason, seeing him like this made Xiang Zhi itch to reach out and tousle him.

In Xiang Zhi's eyes, Le Wuya was like an over-carved piece of thin porcelain—both precious and fragile.

Rather than hold him dear in his heart, it might be easier to shatter him outright, ending it all and saving a century of worry.

Xiang Zhi suppressed the destructive urge rising from deep within, about to say more, when he suddenly sensed something amiss.

He looked down and his face drained of color.

Perhaps due to the intense impact of Le Wuya's fall from the roof, the small golden peanut he always wore at his chest had silently split open along a seam.

Fine dust-like ash trickled down through the crack.

Some of it even flowed into Le Wuya's open collar.

Xiang Zhi felt a sharp sting in his heart like a needle prick and hurriedly reached out to gather it.

But the more he fumbled, the faster the ashes from the small golden peanut slipped away.

That was his last keepsake!

Yet watching this scene, Xiang Zhi slowly gave up trying to save it.

This one was a teacher.

That one was a teacher too.

Now, by some twist of fate, the two teachers had merged into one—wasn't that perfect?

Xiang Zhi dabbed up a bit of the ashes scattered on Le Wuya's body with his fingertip and smeared it onto Le Wuya's cheek.

...So, does this count as giving it back where it belongs?

The more Xiang Zhi thought about it, the more worked up he got.

He fought back excited shivers, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around Le Wuya's shoulders, pressing his ash-covered palm against Le Wuya's chest over his clothes. Ignoring the faint scent of blood on himself, he pressed close to Le Wuya's warm body, his tone tinged with a dreamlike, dazed infatuation as he softly called out, "Teacher, Le Wuya, Teacher Yue..."

Xiang Zhi pressed his forehead against Le Wuya's back and bashfully asked, "Tonight, just let your heartbeat be for me alone, alright?"

Author's note:

Xiaoliu: Take everything you want.

Wen Ren: Being together is enough.

Xiao Qi: Wants his body, wants him, wants a hug.