Chapter 235: Tangdi (II)

Chapter 235: Tangdi (II)

Two bowls of plain tea had just been set on the table when the parched Yuan Zijin eagerly snatched up his bowl and downed it in one go. Wiping his mouth, he thrust out the empty bowl: "Another!"

Le Wuya teased him: "When you first came to me, who was it that said, 'If it's not Pu'er, I won't drink it'?"

Yuan Zijin's ears went hot as he tried to deny it: "Who said that?"

Le Wuya: "A little dog said it."

Yuan Zijin: "...I'll bite you, I swear!"

Helian Che watched their squabbling with a cool, detached air, silently refilling the bowl and sliding it across.

Yuan Zijin took the tea bowl and offered a polite word of thanks.

After all these days on the road, he'd really come to appreciate how tough ordinary folks have it.

But the moment the bowl touched his hand, his wrist trembled uncontrollably, nearly sending the whole thing flying across the table.

"Strange..." Yuan Zijin struggled to set the bowl upright, his eyes slowly going out of focus. "...Wen Ren Ming Ke, are you feeling dizzy?"

Le Wuya: "...Huh?"

Yuan Zijin: "I'm feeling kinda..."

The next moment, he face-planted into the tea bowl, passing out on the spot and nearly drowning himself.

Le Wuya lunged and caught him, then looked toward Helian Che.

He didn't try to hide it, admitting outright: "Knockout powder."

Le Wuya's eyes narrowed. He whipped the white cloth off Helian Che's shoulder, mopped up the spilled tea in a few swift strokes, then smoothly stripped off Yuan Zijin's outer robe. He folded it neatly in a flash and set it on the table, then pressed Yuan Zijin's shoulder down to make him slump over in feigned sleep—making him look exactly like a weary traveler catching some rest after a long journey.

This way, even if an outsider walked in, the unconscious Yuan Zijin wouldn't look suspicious.

After covering Helian Che's tracks, he asked: "The drug isn't too strong, is it? The kid wasn't all that bright to begin with—don't go scrambling his brains."

"He'll be fine once he sleeps it off."

Le Wuya: "Why'd you drug him?"

Helian Che's gaze was heavy: "To make it easy to take you away."

Le Wuya blinked, baffled: "...?"

Helian Che: "I've heard about what you did. You did well, but this playing house ends here—the capital is dangerous, and I won't allow you to go."

...

In the previous life, the day Le Wuya led the envoy delegation to the Jing tribe and then headed back to the capital, Helian Che pleaded drunkenness and illness, sending only his adopted son to see them off. He himself disguised as a Jing tribe guard, wearing a half-helmet, waiting by the palace road to see him off.

He'd heard Le Wuya drank too much the night before, flaring up an old injury. He'd called for the physician in the dead of night, and Helian Che had no idea how he was doing.

Seeing that man, pale-faced, riding slowly by on horseback, Helian Che thought to himself, feigning indifference:

Does it hurt?

—Serves you right.

Getting sick from the wine of his own homeland—clearly he was completely out of his element here.

Helian Che stared down at the blue bricks beneath his feet, but his ears carefully tracked the sound of the horse's hooves growing closer and farther.

As the horse Le Wuya was riding was about to pass him, he finally couldn't help but look up—

"Lord Yue!"

A sudden cry of alarm rang out from the Dayu envoy delegation.

Le Wuya, like a kite whose string had snapped, tumbled from his horse without warning.

What happened next was a blur to Helian Che.

All he knew was that by the time he came to his senses, that thin, pitiful figure had already landed safely in his arms.

Fortunately, the iron helmet concealed his face—the delegation members only took him for some quick-thinking Jing tribe guard, and no one recognized him as the new king of the Jing tribe.

In an instant, a crowd of people swarmed around them, all talking at once.

The Jing tribe nobles' faces were pale with worry.

With the new dynasty barely established, if the Dayu envoy were to meet with misfortune on their own soil, the recently quelled unrest would surely stir again.

The Dayu delegation's attendants were even more terrified, their faces ashen: this man was the emperor's most trusted minister—if anything happened to him, who could bear the responsibility?

The area was in chaos, voices clamoring everywhere.

But in that instant, Helian Che's world went completely silent.

The small weight in his arms made him feel, in a daze, that nothing else in the world mattered.

He instinctively pressed Le Wuya's head to his chest, like catching a jackdaw that had fallen from its nest.

Whether it was his imagination or not, he sensed a subtle reluctance to let go from that cold, soft body in his arms.

But Le Wuya came to quickly.

He slipped out of his arms, straightened his rumpled clothes, and said politely: "Thanks."

Until the delegation's banners disappeared beyond Yangshan city, the warmth of him still lingered in Helian Che's armor.

The jackdaw wrapped in blue swaddling, after tumbling out of his arms, had briefly fallen back into them.

Since that painful parting, this was the closest they had ever been.

Brief as it was, it was enough to give Helian Che sweet dreams for several nights.

Only in dreams could Helian Che allow himself not to hate him, could he let himself miss him freely.

When he woke, Helian Che couldn't help but think: if that man ever came back, he would carry him to the summit of Yangshan, then personally throw him off the cliff.

In the end, he couldn't tell if he wanted to hold him or kill him.

All that vivid love and hate was reduced to nothing when news of Le Wuya's death arrived from the capital.

Now, certain that Le Wuya had returned from the dead, Helian Che looked inward and finally admitted that what had died with Yaya back then was only the hate.

He could tolerate him wandering the world, flying wherever he pleased.

Only the capital, Shangjing, was off-limits to him.

He was a treasure he'd barely gotten back after losing him once.

How could he let him walk that same road again?

...

A chill ran down Le Wuya's spine—he knew something was off.

...Looked like Helian Che was actually serious this time?

It was a main road, sure, but there wasn't a village or inn for miles, and no one around—just a knocked-out Yuan Zijin slumped over the table, out cold.

The bamboo curtain on the tea stall rustled as the spring breeze caught it.

When he saw Le Wuya's eyelashes flicker, Helian Che's eyes darkened.

Years on the battlefield had soaked him in killing intent, and when his face went cold, he looked like a lone wolf hiding in the grass, ready to pounce.

"You didn't bring your bow today," he said, eyes lowered. "Just a dagger. You gonna stab me with that?"

Le Wuya grinned, unclipped the dagger, and tossed it on the table. "I wouldn't dare. Brother, you're so fierce—wouldn't it be stupid of me to try and fight you hand-to-hand?"

Helian Che was as sharp as ever.

Le Wuya hadn't answered him directly—he was clearly dodging the question.

"Didn't you say you didn't hate me?" His voice got colder, his killing aura heavier, and the hand behind his back started shaking. "So why won't you come with me?"

"Or are you lying to me again?"

Le Wuya took a deep breath and said softly, "Brother."

Those two words hit like a spell, freezing the boiling hatred in Helian Che's chest.

He turned his face away, refusing to look at him.

Le Wuya reached up, grabbed his sleeve, and gave it a gentle tug. "Brother, I wanna show you something."

Helian Che's green eyes slid over, giving him a cold sidelong look that said, "Let's see you talk your way out of this."

"The Jing tribe always keeps their word. If they promise something, they never break it, right?"

With that, Le Wuya pulled the little chess piece out from around his neck and showed it to Helian Che. "I made a promise to someone. I gotta keep it first."

Helian Che: "What's this?"

Le Wuya smiled. "I promised someone I'd be their chess piece!"

Helian Che's ears rang with a dull hum.

"I told you to come home, but you wouldn't..." He was grinding his teeth now. "And you'd rather be someone else's chess piece?!"

"Yeah." Le Wuya nodded, quickly stuffing the piece back into his clothes, scared Helian Che might snatch it in a fit of rage.

He changed his tone. "Besides, the Jing people repay kindness and revenge alike. I've got a big grudge to settle, a wish unfulfilled—even if I went home, I'd never be at peace."

"Whatever grudge you've got, I'll settle it for you."

"That would cost the whole Jing tribe." Le Wuya shook his head. "Better I collect my own debts."

In his past life, if it weren't for his blood ties to the Le family, all tangled up in love and hate, and his fear of dragging down the Le family, the Pei family, Xiaoliu, and Xiaoqi, he wouldn't have just given the Old Emperor a parting shock before he died.

He asked Helian Che, "Brother, you believe me?"

Helian Che frowned, his fist on the table, opening, clenching, then opening again.

Seeing his expression keep changing, Le Wuya's heart started to pound.

He hadn't spent much time with this older brother, so he wasn't sure how much begging would actually work.

After a long pause, Helian Che suddenly asked, "...Who said you were a chess piece?"

Le Wuya's heart settled: It works like a charm!

He pressed his lips together and shook his head over and over.

Seeing he wouldn't say, Helian Che didn't have the heart to push him. His face softened a bit, and he handed over a bowl of tea. "Stop pouting. Drink some water."

Le Wuya took it and drank without a second thought.

Seeing him drink it all so trustingly, Helian Che felt a lot better and teased, "I drugged it."

But Le Wuya was slick, shaking the empty bowl with a grin. "Brother's lying. You poured Yuan Xiao'er's tea with that copper pot—this porcelain one was never drugged."

Then, curious, he added, "Brother, if you really wanted to take me away, why not just slip some knockout powder in my tea too?"

Helian Che kept his face cold and said nothing.

Le Wuya stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Helian Che didn't want to leave him hanging, so he said flatly, "The dose is strong. You'd wake up with a headache."

Le Wuya beamed, flattery rolling off his tongue. "Brother cares about me!"

Helian Che couldn't take it anymore. "...How did the Dayu people raise you? Such shameless words, spilling out so easily, and you're not even embarrassed!"

Le Wuya's fox tail wagged, and he blurted out, "I've known how since I was a kid! Brother said the first word I ever said was 'brother'—"

Helian Che: "............"

Furious beyond words, he slammed his fist on the table, smashing the newly bought tea stall table to pieces!

The unconscious Yuan Zijin, slumped over the table, pitched forward and landed face-first in the pile of wood splinters.

Le Wuya knew he'd messed up, so he sidled up to him, tail wagging, and coaxed, "Brother, does your hand hurt?"

Helian Che's back teeth ached from grinding.

He pulled open his clothes. There, on his right shoulder blade, was a dark blue jackdaw tattoo—the Helian family mark.

Helian Che: "...If you piss me off again, I'll drag you home and brand you with this."

Le Wuya immediately behaved. "I won't dare, I won't dare."

Seeing Helian Che's anger subside, Le Wuya casually scooped up Yuan Zijin, laid him across the bench, then returned to the little yellow horse and took down the flower crown he'd woven himself from the saddle: "Brother, you're skilled in painting—could you take a look and tell me if there's anything I could improve on this flower crown?"

Helian Che thought Le Wuya was still angry with him, so he took the flower crown without a word, examined it for a moment, plucked a pale yellow wildflower, and in a few quick motions, wove it onto the crown's edge.

Sunlight filtered through the top of the tea shed, casting soft patches of light on his stern face.

Le Wuya's eyes lit up.

…With that touch, the colors really did look more harmonious and beautiful.

Once he finished decorating it, Helian Che raised his hand to put the crown on his head.

"No, no, don't." Le Wuya pushed his hand away. "This is for someone else!"

"..." Helian Che's hand stopped mid-air.

The air suddenly grew still.

After a beat, Helian Che gave a cold snicker. "...Hah. So I get nothing."

He was usually level-headed, so this rare bout of petulance was unusual.

This time, he had barged in uninvited, not with good intentions, and was demanding a gift—truly overbearing.

"You get something too, big brother." But then, Le Wuya's eyes darted as he smiled and said, "How about I give you a secret, big brother?"

Helian Che arched an eyebrow.

Le Wuya leaned closer and lowered his voice. "...Back then, falling into your arms—that was on purpose."

Helian Che's face hardened, and he stared at him in disbelief.

Le Wuya met his gaze without flinching.

That imposing figure, those familiar, dark, heavy eyes—how could he not recognize him?

"No matter what, I'd always recognize you, big brother." Le Wuya looked at Helian Che earnestly, clutching his sleeve. "We're brothers, steadfast and unchanging—not for a moment, but for a lifetime."

...

After much back-and-forth, Le Wuya finally managed to return to the residence.

Behind him came Yuan Zijin, unsteady on his feet, grimacing as he rubbed his temples.

When Yuan Zijin woke up, he was slumped over a horse's back, totally out of it.

Le Wuya told him he'd dozed off mid-sip and couldn't be woken up no matter what, and asked if he'd been too worked up lately and hadn't been sleeping well.

Yuan Zijin, rubbing his head that throbbed like a horse had stomped on it, winced and thought, yeah, probably.

Ever since the dock fight, he'd been weirdly hyped up, bouncing off the walls, and hadn't slept properly for days.

Could it be that once he finally relaxed, he just conked out?

Bewildered, Yuan Zijin headed back to his room to catch some sleep.

Meanwhile, the moment Le Wuya stepped into the backyard, he saw Zhi Jie sitting primly on the swing, smiling at him with quiet elegance.

...As if he'd been waiting there just for him.

Le Wuya didn't breathe a word about nearly being whisked away by his own brother.

Zhi Jie also kept quiet about nearly coming to blows with Xiang Zhi.

"You're back."

"I'm back."

They spoke at the same time, then both burst out laughing.

Le Wuya strolled over with his hands clasped behind his back. "Close your eyes."

Zhi Jie dutifully closed his eyes.

A moment later, he felt a weight settle on his forehead, and the scent of greenery drifted around his nose.

Zhi Jie opened his eyes and, in Le Wuya's eyes so close to his, saw a bright, delicate flower crown sitting perfectly on his own head.

He stared into Le Wuya's eyes, at a loss for words.

"You forgot?" Le Wuya leaned down, bracing his hands on his knees. "I promised you in the carriage—if you didn't smile, I'd get you a gift."

God knows how much effort it took for Zhi Jie to find his voice again so quickly. "...Wasn't that sword... a present?"

Le Wuya waved it off. "Yeah. But that wasn't just for you."

"This one's just for you."

Zhi Jie lowered his gaze and folded his hands neatly on his knees.

With Xiang Zhi, he could speak his mind openly.

But with Le Wuya, he just didn't have that kind of confidence.

The way he was consumed by greed, obsession, and desire was truly ugly.

He didn't want Le Wuya to see him like that, so he skillfully pretended to be well-behaved.

Seeing him silent, Le Wuya poked him between the eyebrows. "What? Don't like it?"

He heard Zhi Jie say softly, "Teacher, today... the weather is really nice, isn't it?"

Le Wuya's heart suddenly softened.

How could his memory be so poor? How could he forget that matter?

...

That year, in the imperial garden, spring catkins drifted like snow.

He and Xiao Qi had stumbled upon Zhi Jie practicing his speech repeatedly against a rockery.

He had long feigned a stutter, which had turned from a small habit into a real affliction, and could only clumsily and haltingly repeat the same sentence.

"Teacher, today... to-day... the weather..."

"The weather..."

"Is really nice..."

After Le Wuya coaxed away the mischievous Xiao Qi, who was eager to cause trouble, he sat alone on a stone bench in the imperial garden.

The youth's clear, bright voice gradually grew anxious, like a little sparrow that kept stumbling and falling while learning to fly.

Listening to him practice how to greet him over and over, Le Wuya's heart turned to absolute mush.

Afraid that his sudden appearance would embarrass him, he quietly stayed by his side, to cheer him on.

The day Xiaoliu finally mastered the sentence happened to be a dark, overcast day with thunder rumbling low in the sky.

When thunder exploded over the archery range, Le Wuya saw Xiaoliu's back as he hunched over his bow—the boy was dead set on waiting for a "good day" to greet him.

Le Wuya approached him: "Xiaoliu?"

Little Xiang Zhi Jie whipped his head around and saw Le Wuya's smiling expression. On a sudden impulse, the words just tumbled out of him: "Teacher, the weather is truly fine today, isn't it?"

Just then, a bolt of lightning split the sky.

Seeing the boy's face suddenly flush bright red, Le Wuya, afraid of crushing his confidence in learning to speak, hurriedly rushed to soothe him—

"Yeah."

Many years afterward, Le Wuya gazed at him, a smile in his eyes, echoing his reply from that day, word for word: "To see Xiaoliu, rainy days are fine, sunny days are fine too. Every day... is fine."

Zhi Jie raised his hand to grasp the swing rope, smiling silently, but his heart was already pounding in a wild, erratic rhythm.

Yes, another fine day.

...

In the Shouren Hall in the capital, thin tendrils of smoke curled up from the Hongyan incense burner.

Xiang Zheng lounged on the dragon-patterned cushion, poring over the edict that Jie Jitong had drafted for him.

Jie Jitong stood in attendance, hands at his sides, his heart hammering like a war drum—uncannily like that of a certain someone on the swing set in Tongzhou, a thousand miles away.

"Wenren Yue, the Prefect of Tongzhou Prefecture..." Xiang Zheng's leisurely voice echoed through the hall, "loyal and diligent in serving the state, with strategic brilliance far surpassing his peers..."

With each sentence read, Jie Jitong's heartbeat quickened.

These words were all written by his own hand.

In just one short year, the young man so strikingly similar to both Le Wuya and himself was about to leap through the dragon's gate once more.

"Cutting down eight hundred foes and burning dozens of vessels, the rebel horde scattered and the coastal waters were finally at peace. Such merit and achievement truly deserve the highest recognition. In ancient times, the Han had Gong Sui governing Bohai, and the Tang had Wei Gao guarding Xichuan—both were civil officials who also possessed military acumen, stabilizing the realm and leaving their names in history. Now you have suppressed bandits and brought peace to the people, your achievements matching those of the ancients. This heart of mine is deeply gratified..."

At this point, Xiang Zheng looked up with a smile and said, "Yuheng, it seems you truly cherish this Wenren Ming Ke, sparing no praise for him."

Jie Jitong smiled without speaking.

"Specially promoting you to Left Assistant Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate, to take up office in the capital. You shall uphold the law with impartiality, remain loyal and devoted, impeach corrupt officials, and purify the court, so as not to betray my intention in selecting you. By imperial decree."

Seeing that the wording was correct, the emperor picked up the imperial seal and personally stamped the vermilion imprint on the edict, though a sharp gleam like that of a hawk flashed in his eyes.

A minister so capable in both civil and military affairs, a talent who could quietly rally five hundred garrison soldiers—it was safest to keep such a person under his own watch.

After all...

He traced his finger over the four characters "purify the court" on the edict, his expression thoughtful.

As recorded in the *History of Jin*, the Haidongqing falcon is a creature of supreme beauty and wildness, hard to tame.

A Haidongqing always needs a golden cage and golden jesses to match, only then can one feel at ease.