Chapter 240: An Open Heart (Part 2)

Chapter 240: An Open Heart (Part 2)

After the banquet, Wen Ren escorted Le Wuya back to the official guesthouse.

At a painted bridge, Le Wuya stopped, and Wen Ren halted as well.

Le Wuya hugged the bridge pillar: "I'm beat. Let's just stand here a sec."

Wen Ren couldn't help smiling.

In his previous life, he had first cultivated martial arts, then switched to a civil official—a man of immense power, second only to the emperor.

In this life, as a civil official, he'd stubbornly forged himself into a tough soldier and won remarkable military honors.

A man of such charm, yet he loved to play the pampered slacker—if he didn't want to walk, even half a step more would've done him in.

Wen Ren found him utterly endearing, no matter the angle. Afraid his gaze might betray his feelings, he dared not look any longer and stood still with him, letting his eyes wander—and only then realized the scenery here felt strangely familiar.

Just off to the side of the bridge was a stall selling sour plum soup.

With summer approaching, the stall was doing a brisk trade.

Memories came flooding back.

Wen Ren remembered that year when Le Wuya, because of the Shao Hongzhen case in Xingtai, had come to the capital alone, with no idea what awaited him.

He himself had traveled a thousand miles, partnering with Pei Mingqi, to come to the capital looking for him.

That year's lantern festival was the grandest Wen Ren had ever seen in his memory—drums pounding, lights blazing across the sky, like walking into a dream.

But to him, those sights were just lanterns drifting on water.

His eyes saw the beauty, but it never touched his heart.

Because Wen Ren's heart was set on a different kind of beauty, one he longed to behold.

He searched high and low, but couldn't find that person anywhere.

Only after stepping onto this stone bridge did he hear someone call out behind him:

—"Hey!"

The voice wasn't from memory—it came from right beside him.

Wen Ren turned, just like in his memory, and met the man's gaze directly.

Le Wuya: "What're you daydreaming about?"

Wen Ren ducked his head with a soft smile.

The man he missed was right beside him; saying "I missed you" out loud would've been too much.

He said: "I was just thinking how beautiful the lanterns were that year."

"Oh, that reminds me..." Le Wuya twirled a lock of hair around his finger, playing with it. "You never did answer me. You were doing just fine in Nanting—why'd you suddenly hightail it to the capital? Didn't I tell you before I left? I was doing the right thing. No matter what, the emperor wouldn't openly take it out on me. I'd come back safe and sound. Did you really not believe me?"

Wen Ren's face flushed slightly: "It's not that I didn't trust you... It's just that one night, I had a dream about you."

"What did you dream about me?"

Wen Ren didn't answer.

The details of the dream faded once he woke up.

But the longing stayed sharp—so sharp it was unbearable.

Wen Ren tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. He got up, planning to read a couple of books to kill the long night, but when he flipped open a book at random, the line that caught his eye was: "She gathers the mugwort; a day without her feels like three seasons."

The next day, Wen Ren packed his bags and hurried off to the capital.

A faint song drifted from somewhere, jade flutes and pipas competing in melody, singing of reunion and the bright moon.

Le Wuya asked him: "You like the capital?"

"Can't really say." Wen Ren shook his head. "The capital—a city of splendor. It should be pretty great, I guess."

"'Should be'? What's that supposed to mean? What do you really think?"

Wen Ren thought again, then replied: "There's more good food and fun than in Jiangnan. It's more Brother Gu's speed."

Le Wuya laughed: "See? Still all about me."

"Hmm..." Wen Ren dutifully thought it over a bit more, then smiled and shook his head. "Nothing else, really. This time in the capital, I mostly stayed in and studied. Next time, I'll get out more, see more places, and then tell Brother Gu what I think."

As he spoke, Wen Ren saw Le Wuya staring at the sour plum soup stand and knew what he was thinking. He shook his head: "Brother Gu, you barely ate earlier. And now you definitely shouldn't have anything cold."

Le Wuya: "...I'm just looking! I wasn't gonna drink any!"

But even as he said it, his throat bobbed with a telltale swallow.

"Was the pearl chicken not to your liking?"

"It was good."

"...But Brother Gu only had two bites."

Le Wuya turned, leaning his elbow on the worn bridge railing: "Because there's something I need to tell you."

Wen Ren: "?"

The remark felt sudden, out of nowhere.

If Brother Gu had something to say, why not just say it? Why go hungry over it?

A strange unease crept up Wen Ren's heart like ivy, quietly wrapping around him.

But he didn't look away. Instead, he met the other's gaze, as if searching for all the words left unsaid.

Le Wuya leaned back against the railing, sounding casual: "This time doesn't count. Next time... don't wait for me. It's too exhausting."

Wen Ren: "..."

Brother Gu's words always carried more meaning than they let on, so he always had to mull them over at least three times.

But this time, he'd rather not understand what he meant.

At today's reunion, he'd already been careful with his words.

When it came to Tongzhou, he only asked about what happened, not about who was involved.

Whenever the conversation turned to other people's affairs, he would immediately skip over them.

If he didn't ask for details, he could avoid thinking about them.

Back in Tongzhou, Wen Renyue had already seen him hesitate over the trivial matter of "whose letter to read first," and had watched him secretly stash away that Lantern Festival riddle. He had quietly steeled himself to love him while slowly pulling away, so as not to make things too hard for Brother Gu.

Now that the moment had arrived, he realized just how impossibly hard it was.

Because that half of his soul that loved him was stubborn to the bone, refusing to die.

At this reunion, seeing Le Wuya treat him with such unusual warmth and cheer, Wen Renyue was happy to stop overthinking.

He knew this was fooling himself.

The old Wen Renyue had lived simply, with a simple heart, always at peace with himself. Even at his most helpless, when he slipped a noose around his own neck, his heart had been open and unburdened.

Now, he had truly been transformed.

Wen Renyue swallowed the bitter taste in his throat and said, "Brother Gu, I told you, I love the days I get to wait for you."

The second half of that sentence, he never said out loud.

...Was even this tiny shred of hope going to be denied him?

"You've told me over and over what's on your mind," Le Wuya said. "But what's on my mind—do you want to hear it?"

Wen Renyue had always been a good listener: "Please, Brother Gu, go ahead."

Le Wuya pinched his earlobe and dropped a bombshell: "When I saw you today, I'd originally planned to use you as a shield."

Wen Renyue: "...?"

Le Wuya said, his expression perfectly calm, sending chills down Wen Renyue's spine: "Ever since I left the palace, someone's been tailing me. When I opened the window today, you were down below, and there was someone on the roof of the inn staring at me."

Wen Renyue looked around and only then realized that Le Wuya had deliberately chosen the small bridge to talk to him.

In the middle of the bustling city, with open sky above and open ground below, there was nowhere for anyone to hide and eavesdrop.

Brother Gu had once taught him how to pick a spot for a private conversation, but he'd been so lost in nostalgia that he only now understood what Le Wuya was doing.

"At my age, still unmarried—people would naturally assume I've got some unspeakable problem," Le Wuya said lightly. "You and I have a deep connection; I'm the one who helped overturn your case. In the emperor's eyes, if I'm seen as overly close and tangled up with his new top scholar, that's better than being mixed up with his sons, right?"

"But just now at the table, I tried and tried, thought it through again and again, and still couldn't go through with it."

Wen Renyue swallowed the question "Why won't Brother Gu use me as a shield?" whole.

It was sincere, but far too embarrassing to say out loud.

In the end, he cut it down and asked just two simple words: "...Why?"

Le Wuya didn't hide anything and confessed bluntly, "There's a shadow in my heart right now."

"A shadow?"

Le Wuya nodded: "Yes, a shadow."

That shadow wasn't disruptive; it sat with them through the whole meal, silent, just smiling and calmly keeping them company, yet it made it impossible for Le Wuya to get a single bite down smoothly.

Wen Renyue thought for a moment and asked a question that was nothing short of offbeat: "Just a shadow... that's all?"

Le Wuya: "Yes."

Wen Renyue looked at him, suddenly hit by a wave of immense unease and grief.

...That person was still just a vague shadow in his heart, and already he couldn't even finish one dinner with him.

If that shadow took root and grew solid in his heart, how deeply would he love him then?

Wen Renyue had always believed that Le Wuya—a man who laughed and cursed freely, deserving of all the world's love—was actually better at being loved than at loving.

Back in Nanting, even when talking to Deputy Magistrate Sun, Le Wuya's eyes and brows would sometimes show a trace of lingering tenderness.

So Wen Renyue felt no jealousy or envy, because he knew that loving someone like that would always be harder.

But now, hearing Le Wuya say this, Wen Renyue realized that Brother Gu—a man who loved good food, excelled at scheming, and charmed everyone—could, for the sake of a mere shadow, skip dinner, abandon his plan to use him as a shield, and without waiting until the next day, tell him plainly that he wouldn't fake intimacy with him—not even as an act, because he just couldn't pull it off.

He was capable of loving someone with such overwhelming, ocean-deep intensity.

It was just that that someone wasn't him.

Wen Renyue closed his eyes, enduring a stab of heartache: "Brother Gu..."

"It's not your fault," Le Wuya said breezily, patting his shoulder. "It's mine."

Wen Renyue smiled bitterly: "Brother Gu, back in Tongzhou, you said I was too young, and I didn't get what you meant. I thought... I thought, age-wise, I must be older than the Sixth and Seventh Princes."

Now, he finally understood what Le Wuya had meant by "young."

Pei Mingqi had seen the Le Wuya of his youth—wild, flamboyant, and free-spirited.

Xiang Zhijie and Xiang Zhishi had seen the Le Wuya at the height of power, a minister on the brink of decline.

When it came to Wen Renyue, he had encountered the Le Wuya reborn, freed from all constraints—a synthesis of the two previous versions.

How fortunate he was to have met the best Le Wuya.

Yet how unfortunate to have missed all the years that shaped him.

Whether it was the carefree days of raising golden goblets to the moon, or the darkest moments of sitting alone in the cold night, others had been by his side.

Over these past two years, Wen Renyue had striven to grow up.

From a Seventh-Rank Official helpless against petty clerks' harassment, to the top scholar parading through the imperial streets, he had grown at an astonishing pace, yet still could not catch up to that absent stretch of time.

His bond with him, after all, spanned only two short years.

Too thin, too immature.

When Le Wuya was maneuvering through the court, Wen Renyue was still in his old home in Jiangnan, buried in the classics.

When Le Wuya was suffering in prison, Wen Renyue was still tossing and turning over whether to enter officialdom.

Even with heaven-reaching ability, he could not return to the past and say to that powerful minister Le Wuya, "Let me walk with you."

Amid the surge of intense emotion, Wen Renyue grabbed a corner of Le Wuya's sleeve.

Facing Wen Renyue's sorrowful expression, Le Wuya shifted his body.

He had eaten only a little food all day, and the hunger in his stomach was burning, convenient for him to say all he needed to say in one breath.

Le Wuya looked down at his fingers, which were turning white from the tight grip. "Let go of my sleeve."

"You're a good kid. I don't want to pull my sleeve out of your hand. That wouldn't be right—it would hurt the bond between us."

He was neither cold nor harsh. His words were crisp and decisive, yet left no room for negotiation.

Wen Renyue held on stubbornly.

"Keep me as a fallback—wouldn't that be good?" After a long silence, Wen Renyue forced the words out. "What if you go astray again, like before? You'd still have a way back."

Le Wuya smiled and said, "No."

"First, if that person turns out faithless and cold-hearted, and I lose my bet, I'll settle the score myself. It has nothing to do with anyone else. I never settle for less."

"Second," he said, "you should be a wide-open road, a ladder to the clouds—just never be anyone's backup plan. No one in this world deserves that from you, not even someone as peerless as me."

Even with all the bitterness churning inside him, Wen Renyue couldn't help but laugh at that. "Even at a time like this, Brother Gu can't help bragging about himself?"

"Smiling now?" Le Wuya leaned his face close. "Can't I just speak the truth? Aren't you, the top scholar of the realm, my own student?"

Wen Renyue clasped his hands in front of him, trying to pick up a trick or two. "Brother Gu, why do you love him?"

To his surprise, Le Wuya draped himself over the bridge railing, idly fiddling with his fingers. "I've been wondering the same thing myself."

Anyway, it didn't seem to come from their past life as master and disciple.

But it also seemed to be tangled up with everything from before.

Without that seemingly well-behaved "good boy" from the past life as a contrast, would he have been drawn to this "bad boy" of scheming mind and unbridled desires?

Who knows.

Whatever.

He'd mull it over.

Wen Renyue leaned on the railing, staring into the distance.

The stone bridge was still there, the water flowed as always.

Only his heart of hearts had changed.

As they parted, Le Wuya asked him half-jokingly, "Do you regret handing your body over to me?"

Wen Renyue answered without a beat, "No regrets."

Meeting you and keeping you here is a stroke of luck I couldn't have prayed for—how could I regret it?

Le Wuya and Wen Renyue parted ways on the bridge.

He walked at a brisk clip toward the courier station.

Halfway there, he snuck back to grab a bowl of sour plum soup.

As he sat at the stall, happily slurping it down, Qiu Sinian stood on another bridge fifty feet off, quietly watching Le Wuya.

His eyes were hollow, and besides the shimmering lights and shadows, there was only Le Wuya.

Someone sidled up next to him, standing shoulder to shoulder with Qiu Sinian.

He signed, asking what Wen Renyue and Top Scholar Ming had talked about.

The man shook his head.

The little bridge was narrow to begin with—standing right beside them and straining to eavesdrop would've been way too obvious.

Qiu Sinian waved a hand, and his subordinate melted back into the crowd without a sound, trailing Wen Renyue, who hadn't gotten far.

Wen Renyue ducked into a nearby tavern and ordered a pot of freshly warmed Xinghua Village wine.

He'd never been much of a drinker himself.

And although Ming Xiangzhao could hold his liquor, he'd been framed for rebellion precisely because someone took advantage of his drunkenness. So after taking over Ming Xiangzhao's body, he'd stuck to that lesson and never touched a drop.

But tonight's events called for a drink.

He sat alone in a corner of the tavern, poured a cup, and knocked it back in one go.

He really wasn't used to such a harsh, burning bite, and coughed.

...So bitter.

He'd heard that Brother Gu could drink anyone under the table in his past life—at every official banquet in the capital, he was always there.

How could someone who loved sweets and good food so much stand this?

"Oh! Brother Shou Yue, what's with you drinking all alone?"

Wen Renyue looked up at the sound and saw Juren Su, looking surprised.

He wasn't at all surprised to see Juren Su here.

This guy always liked to keep tabs on him, thinking he was perfectly hidden.

Since he was here anyway, he might as well spring the trap.

The Fifth Prince had long wanted to win him over, working both openly and behind the scenes.

But if he defected rashly, it would be too abrupt.

Nominally, the Sixth and Seventh Princes were his saviors, so turning to the Fifth Prince, whom he barely knew, required a plausible excuse.

With that in mind, he curled his lips into a bitter smile. "It's nothing, Brother Su. Just... a bit of unwillingness."

Juren Su sat down across from him. "Brother Shou Yue, you've topped the imperial exams—the proudest achievement in the realm. Why the discontent?"

Wen Renyue said in a low voice, "...His heart holds no place for me. How can I be content?"

Juren Su's eyes lit up. "Brother Shou Yue has someone in his heart? Which young lady has you so lovesick?"

Wen Renyue opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. "Ah, forget it. Let's drink."

Juren Su was eager to pry, hooked and itching with curiosity, leaning slightly forward. "With such fine qualities as yours, Brother Shou Yue, even a prime minister's daughter would be a match."

"...A daughter?" Wen Renyue gave a soft laugh. "His heart is like iron and stone—even ten thousand in gold... couldn't move it."

While Juren Su was being tormented to the brink by Wen Renyue's constant starts and stops, Le Wuya had also returned to the courier station.

After nightfall, the Censorate's private station was quiet inside and out, save for the early cicadas dragging out their notes, rising and falling in endless song.

When he came back, Le Wuya returned through the front door.

As he pushed the door open, he peeked through the crack to check the door bolt.

After returning from court that morning, he had tied a strand of his hair around the bolt.

If any uninvited guest had tried to break in through the front door, the hair would have snapped.

When Wen Ren had come to call, he had leapt out the window just so he wouldn't snap that hair.

Of course, to guard against anyone skipping the door and using the window, he had also sprinkled a fine layer of sand on the windowsill.

This sand he had pocketed from the beaches of Tongzhou—fine in texture, pale as frost and snow. No such sand existed in the capital. Even if someone discovered this little trap after climbing through the window and tried to erase their traces, they would never find an identical match.

In other words, only his own handprints should remain on that windowsill.

With these two layers of protection, despite leaving the window wide open, sure enough, not a single intruder had slipped in.

Just as Le Wuya was about to retire for the night, he suddenly noticed a short arrow lying on his bed. The tip had been taken off, wrapped around it was a soft white silk cloth, and a small pouch hung from the shaft.

Inside the pouch was a piece of ghee cake—his old favorite flavor.

Before even unrolling the white silk, Le Wuya guessed which little punk had pulled this stunt.

Jiang He's dead-eye archery skills—used merely to deliver letters and notes. What a criminal waste.

When he unrolled it, the writing on the silk was indeed in Xiang Zhi Jie's hand.

"Mr. Wen Ren is not at home; I know not where he has gone."

"Writing this, I'm at a loss for words. I've thought of you ten thousand times, in token of my respect."

Le Wuya didn't know whether to laugh or get mad, and cursed at the silk: "Get lost."

Is that what you call respect?

I don't even want to talk about it.