Chapter 246: The Inn (1)

Chapter 246: The Inn (1)

Zhi Jie bent down and hoisted the wild and unruly Le Wuya onto his back, saying without room for argument, "Master, drink your medicine first."

The somewhat worn doctor's robes Zhi Jie wore, along with the camphorwood medicine box, had been procured by Jiang He.

Also brought back was a prescription for treating food stagnation and qi disharmony.

Before long, a soft knock came at the door—it was Bo Xin outside.

Bo Xin, after all, had been sent by Wang Su to keep an eye on Le Wuya, and would have to report back to Wang Su upon his return. He couldn't just up and leave without a proper farewell. After exchanging pleasantries with Hua Rong for a while, he suggested stepping inside to check on the patient.

By this time, the two were now on opposite sides of the inn—one inside, one outside.

Le Wuya lay on the bed with the bed curtains drawn, only a slender, pale wrist resting on the pulse pillow was visible.

Zhi Jie, with his back to the door, was busy writing out a prescription with his head lowered.

Bo Xin probed cautiously: "Doctor, is this gentleman's condition serious?"

Zhi Jie replied with a composed expression: "Wine toxins carried by wind, attacking the body's interior through the skin's interstices."

"Why did the rash break out so suddenly? And... how is it to be treated?"

Zhi Jie answered: "The wine toxins turn to heat and break out as a rash on the skin. A decoction of mung bean and licorice root should be prepared quickly—one *ge* of mung beans and three *qian* of raw licorice root, brought to a quick boil in well water, and taken on an empty stomach."

With that, he casually handed over the prescription he had written from memory, his expression cold: "One night of drinking won't kill anyone. If the young ones don't know better, shouldn't their superiors?"

These words made Bo Xin's face fall.

This young doctor sure had a sharp tongue.

But the banquet had been thrown by his own master, and Surveillance Commissioner Wenren had explicitly said he couldn't drink. Yet his master, uncharacteristically, had ignored everyone's objections and kept pushing the wine on him, as if he was dead set on making the Commissioner look like a fool in public—and that was how this whole mess had started.

Being scolded by this quack made it sound like the Wang family had deliberately tried to poison someone.

Hua Rong stepped in at just the right moment to defuse the tension, accepting the prescription with both hands and politely asking this sharp-tongued young doctor to hold on a moment—he was young and didn't know much about brewing medicine, and needed some guidance on heat control and dosage. He then saw the thoroughly deflated Bo Xin to the door.

Bo Xin wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He couldn't quite say why, but this doctor had an imposing presence. After getting scolded, Bo Xin didn't even dare defend his own master, slinking off like a scolded grandson.

"That's one young doctor with a sharp tongue," he probed. "Steward Hua, which pharmacy did you get him from?"

Hua Rong lied with a perfectly straight face: "Oh, I was in such a rush I didn't get a good look. Once I've brewed the medicine and seen the doctor off, I'll take another look..."

He chatted and laughed with Bo Xin, breezing him all the way back to the Wang residence.

After seeing them off, Zhi Jie returned to the bedside, opened the medicine box, and took out a bamboo tube.

Inside was the mung bean and licorice drink that had been prepared before they arrived.

He dabbed two drops on the back of his hand to test the temperature, then brought the tube to Le Wuya's lips: "Master, drink slowly—it's not hot anymore."

Le Wuya lay propped on his arm, head tilted, murmuring softly: "So fierce."

Zhi Jie said gently: "Fierce?"

Le Wuya: "It's fine to be fierce with others. You can be even fiercer."

Zhi Jie: "As you wish."

Le Wuya looked at the bamboo tube offered to him but ignored it.

Meanwhile, Hua Rong and Bo Xin were still chatting outside the door.

Le Wuya perked up his ears and eavesdropped for a bit: "Hey, they're saying you're young."

Zhi Jie: "I thought about gluing on a beard, but I was afraid it would scratch you, Master, so I dropped the idea."

Le Wuya reached out to touch his well-shaped jawline: "No beard on the chin, can't be trusted within."

Zhi Jie didn't care about such talk of reliability, only about one thing: "Master, you like that I don't have a beard, right?"

Le Wuya squinted and tapped Zhi Jie's lower lip.

It was the exact spot mirrored by the mole on his own lip.

He answered honestly: "I do."

Zhi Jie's ears quickly turned red. He lowered his eyes and saw right through Le Wuya's scheme: "If Master doesn't want to take the medicine, you don't have to resort to tricks like this."

Le Wuya: "..." Tsk. Busted.

Zhi Jie cleared his throat: "If you don't take the medicine, won't you feel sick?"

"It will." Le Wuya rolled over, away from the medicine. "But I hate licorice."

Zhi Jie swirled the bamboo tube: "So I put honey in it."

Le Wuya's eyes lit up: "Really?"

Zhi Jie: "Why doesn't Master have a taste and guess what kind of honey it is?"

The tipsy Le Wuya happily took the tube from Zhi Jie, sniffed it, and took a big swig.

He smacked his lips but couldn't taste any honey: "What kind of honey is it?"

Zhi Jie said without missing a beat: "Acacia honey, plus another kind mixed in. Why doesn't Master try again?"

And so, Zhi Jie coaxed Le Wuya into drinking every last drop, sip by sip.

After downing the last mouthful, Le Wuya hugged the empty tube, thought for a moment, and said suspiciously: "You're not lying to me, are you?"

Zhi Jie stifled a smile and turned away: "Master, I'm innocent!"

"Don't you dare say 'innocent' in front of me!" Le Wuya grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look him in the eye. "When you say those words, you're obviously mimicking me!"

Zhi Jie put on an innocent look and apologized at lightning speed: "Master, I'm sorry."

"..."

Maybe out of habit, Le Wuya knew full well that the Zhi Jie before him wasn't obedient—and probably never had been—yet he still couldn't resist his obedient act.

He squinted, pulled a small pastry wrapped in a handkerchief from his chest, and fumbled to unwrap it.

Zhi Jie knew he'd been wrong to trick him into taking the medicine, and afraid Le Wuya might really be mad, he was more than happy to play along.

He leaned closer: "Master, what's that?"

"Pastries, huh?" Le Wuya said, shielding them protectively. "Since when do doctors forbid patients from eating?"

"You can eat," Xiang Zhijie said, barely holding back a smile. "Just a little bite, so it doesn't upset your stomach."

Le Wuya: "I'm eating—what's so funny?"

Xiang Zhijie coughed softly, not letting on that he was thinking of the rose cake the teacher had given him at the bottom of that dry well years ago. "I'm laughing because you always manage to find a pastry no matter where you go."

Le Wuya said, all righteous indignation: "I didn't find this one."

"Then..."

"Wen Ren brought it."

...Xiang Zhijie's smile vanished.

Le Wuya opened his mouth to take a bite, but Xiang Zhijie caught his hand and gave it a gentle tug, making him bite air.

Le Wuya: "…?"

Xiang Zhijie: "Let me get you some fresh, hot pastries. This one's gone cold."

Le Wuya: "I like 'em cold."

Xiang Zhijie: "It's bad for you."

"If I don't eat it, it'll be wasted!"

"It won't be wasted. I'll eat it."

"No!" Le Wuya refused. "Wen Ren brought it—how could we waste it?"

Xiang Zhijie's chest tightened with a sudden, sour pang, but he softened his voice and coaxed patiently: "Let me get you some butter cakes. Give me this one, okay?"

Le Wuya was as stubborn as a mule: "No!"

With that, he opened his mouth and bit into one end of the cake.

Xiang Zhijie, stung by the repeated refusals, found himself biting the other end of the cake in a surge of jealousy and unease.

The second he bit down, he froze.

The two of them each held one end of the cake, staring at each other with wide eyes.

Seeing the man had fallen for his trick, Le Wuya winked one fox-like violet eye, a mischievous glint dancing in it.

A blush crept up Xiang Zhijie's ears again.

...Rose filling.

It was a rose cake.

Back at the bottom of that dry well, the teacher had used a little trick to get him to eat the only rose cake he had.

He'd said it was his heart.

Now, the teacher's tricks were still as sharp as ever.

"A cake brought by Wen Ren"?

Wasn't the teacher Wen Ren himself?

Clearly, the teacher's little tricks were truly endless.

Le Wuya loved watching a good boy get flustered.

He was still half-drunk, but his wits were at five parts while his mischief had swelled to a full ten.

Back at Wang Su's estate, during the censors' pre-banquet tea gathering, he'd already had his eye on the rose cakes on the tea tray.

He remembered his time alone with Xiang Zhijie at the bottom of the dry well, and thinking he'd soon see Xiao Liu again, his hand had gotten restless, sneaking the last rose cake into his robes.

Now, with his scheme a success and Xiang Zhijie standing there stunned, embarrassed and flustered, Le Wuya grew even smugger.

At that moment, the five parts of his wits he'd lost made him lose all restraint.

He let go of the cake, and across the distance of one rose cake, grinned as he licked the rose paste off his lips: "Your Highness, how does it taste?"

Xiang Zhijie took a bite of the rose cake, then, with composure and deliberation, wrapped the cake with two tooth marks back in the handkerchief that had fallen by the bed.

Meanwhile, Le Wuya teased with gusto: "Every time you come to see me, you've got to be clever—skipping meals, and then you scold me!"

Xiang Zhijie said nothing, pushing the pastry and handkerchief somewhere safe.

Le Wuya commented: "...You greedy thing! Coming to steal my food!"

Xiang Zhijie, known for his gentlemanly demeanor, offered no resistance and accepted this rather unrefined new nickname.

Once all distractions were cleared, he raised his hand, slowly and firmly, to cup the back of Le Wuya's head.

Le Wuya looked at him through hazy, drunken eyes and gave a radiant smile.

Even with all his restraint, a dull buzz rang through Xiang Zhijie's mind.

...He'd only meant to wipe Le Wuya's mouth.

Xiang Zhijie had always been a man of his word.

He believed he could only overstep such bounds when the teacher was sober; otherwise, it would be a grave offense and discourtesy.

Yet circumstances pushed him forward.

Warm breath flowed from Xiang Zhijie's nose, carrying the scent of roses, tousling Le Wuya's messy hair with each exhale.

He clenched his jaw tightly, not daring to keep his palm on the back of Le Wuya's head, afraid a careless motion might pull his hair and hurt him.

But "stirred emotions" were truly hard to suppress.

The distance between them shrank.

The candle flame popped with a sputter, its flickering light casting their overlapping shadows on the papered window.

Le Wuya didn't dodge, staring straight at him with a misty, unfocused gaze—calm and serene.

When they were barely a breath apart, their warmth nearly mingling, Le Wuya suddenly leaned back half an inch.

In that moment of retreat, a brilliant, almost aggressive smile curved the corner of his lips.

...He'd planned this all along.

Realizing this, Zhi Jie heard his heart pounding like a drum, even the skin of his fingertips burning hot.

Blessed be the Infinite Dao...

By the Three Pure Ones on high...

He gritted his teeth, about to count the beads on his wrist to distract himself, when Le Wuya looped his pinky around them, smiling as he watched him, not letting him count.

A cold bead of sweat trickled down Zhi Jie's cheek.

Amid the flickering candlelight and shadows, he leaned in closer once more.

But this time, Le Wuya stepped forward instead of retreating.

His finely shaped nose brushed against Zhi Jie's nostril, like an animal, grazing the tip and bridge of his nose. Then, with a laugh he couldn't hold back, he spread his arms and pulled Zhi Jie into a hug, patting and stroking him with the demeanor of a master.

Le Wuya said in a tipsy voice, "Our Xiaoliu is so easy to fool—just a little coaxing and he comes running, right?"

"..." Zhi Jie felt a sudden pang of grievance. "Master, didn't you say I was supposed to come save you?"

"Of course I was pulling your leg. When has your master ever asked anyone to save him? I'm here to rescue you." Le Wuya said shamelessly, "I was afraid our Xiaoliu would miss me too much, so I sent myself over to show you my face."

Zhi Jie was caught between annoyance and amusement, his heart aching and swelling with a jumble of emotions: "Master, this isn't saving me—it's just picking on me."

Le Wuya, leaning his head on Zhi Jie's shoulder, said with a grin, "Just tell me if you like it or not."

All those tangled feelings melted into a soft, aching tenderness.

Zhi Jie pressed his hand against his chest.

Honestly, he was a little rattled.

He'd never imagined his master would love him, just as he'd never imagined the moon would drop out of the sky and land in his arms.

But saying he didn't like it would be a lie.

Seeing the look on Zhi Jie's face, Le Wuya knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Just loving me is enough to keep you busy and worn out," he said, straightening up and resting both hands on Zhi Jie's shoulders. "...Don't worry about the rest—leave it all to me."

"I'm actually pretty good at winning people over, Your Highness. Don't you think?"