Chapter 248: The Inn (3)

Chapter 248: The Inn (3)

Seeing Le Wuya's expression shift, Xiang Zhijie's heart lurched in panic.

"Teacher, have you forgotten? I have heart palpitations—my heart just beats a little faster than most people's." Xiang Zhijie took his hand, rubbing it gently. "Don't be upset, okay? When you're upset, my heart feels all tight and heavy."

With that, he bowed his head, a pleading look in his eyes, and gently nudged his forehead against Le Wuya's brow:

"...Teacher, please have mercy on me, okay?"

Seeing that he wouldn't come clean, Le Wuya—who always loved to dig for the truth—mulled it over for a moment, then decisively wrapped himself up in the blanket and ignored him.

Because Xiang Zhijie's dodging had already laid the answer out plain as day.

Now that he knew, Le Wuya was in no rush.

Sure enough, that dodging made Xiang Zhijie even more uneasy.

He leaned in close to Le Wuya, about to speak, when a muffled voice came from under the blanket: "Go to sleep."

Xiang Zhijie: "..."

It was his first time ever arguing with his teacher, and he was nervous.

He carefully dug Le Wuya out from under the blanket and said, a little stiffly, "Teacher, going to sleep all pent-up and angry will hurt your health."

Le Wuya: "A teacher is supposed to be a model for others. But me? I've been neither model nor exemplary—just a plain nuisance. I might as well just die."

Xiang Zhijie: "..."

His face went a little cold. He silently counted his Taoist beads twice and offered a silent prayer to whatever deity might be passing by: Forgive him, he's talking nonsense—don't take the words of a drunkard seriously.

After finishing his prayer, he said, "Teacher, please don't say things like that."

Le Wuya taunted: "I might as well just die."

"...Teacher!" Xiang Zhijie raised his voice a notch. "Teacher, the heavens and earth have spirits—how can you say such... such nonsense!"

Le Wuya almost couldn't hold in a laugh.

Whenever Xiang Zhijie got flustered, his old affliction would come back.

The long-missed Little Stutterer—how cute.

Xiang Zhijie knew full well he'd lost his composure, and his face flushed red. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to get it to cooperate, but when he opened his mouth, it still wouldn't listen: "I... I, finding you was already the greatest luck, no... no small feat, and you still want to see me search... search..."

At that, feeling a bit wronged, he sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, biting his tongue and going quiet.

Le Wuya, intrigued, sat up with the blanket still over his head: "Search for what? Come on, tell me."

"N-no more." Xiang Zhijie turned his face away, dejected, and moved the knitting needles further aside so Le Wuya wouldn't miss them and prick himself. "How you choose is... is your own business. Xiaoliu, as your student, d-doesn't presume to interfere."

Le Wuya: ...Hey now.

He hadn't even finished being mad, and the other guy was already feeling wronged.

Le Wuya had fought with Pei Mingqi, Xiang Zhi, and Wen Ren before, but with Xiang Zhijie, it was a first—like a bride on her wedding night.

Clearly, neither of them was any good at this.

Seeing Xiang Zhijie sulking in silence, Le Wuya reached through the blanket and poked him lightly on the back a few times.

Even though he was embarrassed and irritated, Xiang Zhijie still turned half his face back, looking cold.

...Mad as he was, he couldn't ignore his teacher's call.

To ignore him would violate the rules of teacher-student decorum.

And it would go against his own heart.

Xiang Zhijie asked coldly, "You, if you... what are you planning to do?"

Le Wuya said in a sinister tone from behind him: "I won't be reborn. I'll become a water ghost, crouching at the bottom of the water, waiting to take your little life."

Xiang Zhijie froze, and his heart—which hadn't even had time to freeze—immediately melted under a spring breeze.

He pressed: "In which river, which stream?"

"How would I know?" Le Wuya rested his chin on Xiang Zhijie's shoulder through the blanket. "You travel the world, and wherever you see scenery like a painting, go take a dip—I'll come."

He deliberately lowered his voice, putting on a fierce expression: "I'll grab your waist just like this..."

But before he could finish his threat, Xiang Zhijie pounced on him.

The blanket went flying, revealing Le Wuya's face, still carrying a smile and flushed faintly from the wine.

Xiang Zhijie cupped his chin and leaned in to kiss him.

He ran hot by nature, his lips soft and burning, radiating a gentle heat that set Le Wuya's face and head on fire too.

After their lips and tongues tangled for a while, Xiang Zhijie straightened up, panting, and declared seriously: "...Your student will also... will treat you just like this, teacher."

Le Wuya thought: I miscalculated.

Who in the world would dare to mess with a water ghost?

Truly, the human heart is a treacherous thing.

He narrowed his eyes lazily, sizing up Xiang Zhijie before him: "That night at the courier station, who was it that said if I wasn't in my right mind, he wouldn't take me while I was out of it? Hmm?"

"I lost." Xiang Zhijie kept a proper distance from him, pronouncing the word "lost" with grave deliberation. "Teacher wins."

That remark hit Le Wuya right where he liked it.

His taste was low—his greatest joy in life was seeing others bow their heads and admit defeat before him.

Hearing this, even though he knew such leniency was unbefitting a teacher's dignity, Le Wuya grinned and praised: "Good boy."

Both of them were disheveled, a strand of hair still tangled together in the air between them.

This was clearly not a good time to be praising someone as "obedient."

Xiang Zhijie's face was flushed crimson, even the fingers counting his Taoist beads turning faintly red, his whole being nearly ready to combust.

Le Wuya sighed: "Such an obedient child—why does he have to be foolish over me?"

Xiang Zhijie pursed his lips, dutifully accepting the criticism, then stubbornly added: "It's settled. When that time comes, you have to drag me down with you—don't hold back."

Le Wuya clicked his tongue: "Nonsense. Go to sleep, go to sleep."

Xiang Zhijie hummed in acknowledgment, picked up the sock that was nearly finished, and whipped it shut with a few swift stitches.

His face betrayed nothing, but inwardly he was secretly anxious.

His teacher had clearly noticed something, yet why didn't he dig deeper?

His teacher had always doted on him.

What Xiang Zhijie feared most was that his teacher would pretend all was well in front of him, only to secretly find another way out—and even more, that he might actually find a way and give his years back to him.

What good would a long life be without his teacher?

It was with these worries churning in his mind that Xiang Zhijie finished a new pair of socks.

He reached under his teacher's blanket, felt his ankle, and finding it not cold, folded the socks and placed them on top of his boot.

Le Wuyai, with his back still turned, suddenly spoke: "Hey. What's your name?"

Xiang Zhijie: "...? Huh?"

The question was so random, coming completely out of left field.

Even Xiang Zhijie, who knew Le Wuyai inside and out, was a little confused.

Just as Xiang Zhijie was starting to think Le Wuyai was talking in his sleep, the man turned his head and repeated the question, clear as day: "I'm asking you. What's your name?"

Xiang Zhijie was still hung up on whether his teacher might give back his years, so he was on guard and didn't dare answer carelessly: "Why is Teacher asking... asking this?"

Le Wuyai rustled around, turned his back again, and said lazily, "Fine, keep it to yourself."

Xiang Zhijie had no idea how he'd offended his teacher, didn't get what was going on, and didn't dare ask. He quietly got up, stripped off his outer robe, and lay down next to Le Wuyai in just his underclothes, eyes closed.

But just as he was about to fall asleep, something hit him, and he shot upright.

—This was back in Tongzhou.

He'd bared his heart to his teacher, but his teacher had been doubtful, only saying, "I'll wait for you to win me over with the whole world."

Xiang Zhijie, being Le Wuyai's best student, knew the value of pushing his luck, so he took the initiative and kissed his teacher on the forehead.

Back then, he'd asked Le Wuyai: "Does this count as the betrothal gift?"

...In the "Six Rites," what came after the betrothal gift...?

Xiang Zhijie stared at Le Wuyai's back, an incredulous, burning light rising in his eyes.

That light became a blaze.

He carefully edged closer.

Knowing his tongue was being especially uncooperative tonight, he deliberately slowed down, making every word come out soft and earnest: "Teacher, your student's name is Xiang Zhijie, courtesy name Xiuzhu, childhood name Fengjun, born on the twenty-third day of the eleventh month in the guiyou year, at the exact hour of hai."

In response, all he heard was the sound of even breathing.

Xiang Zhijie gently circled his arms around his teacher's waist.

He didn't want to wake his teacher.

So, overjoyed, he repeated it silently in his head, over and over.

Xiang Zhijie, Xiuzhu, Fengjun.

Le Wuyai, Youque, Ali.

One born on the twenty-third of November in the guiyou year, at the stroke of hai.

One born on the second of February in the bingxu year, at the second quarter of the you hour.

Ever since he'd learned his teacher's real birth date and time from He Lianche, he'd secretly run a compatibility reading.

The two of them were an excellent match—their year stars nourished each other and their five elements complemented each other.

...The only thing to watch out for was meddling from elders.

Hearing the breathing behind him grow faster and faster, Le Wuyai was quite pleased with himself.

Good—the naughty boy wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

After all, his lifespan was intact, and he was young and strong; losing one night of sleep wouldn't hurt him.

Having pulled his little trick, Le Wuyai relaxed and soon fell asleep.

While the two were staying at the inn, sharing one bed, Xie Jitong was on duty in the Shouren Hall.

Xue Jie reported on what had happened at the small banquet at Wang Su's place, and Xiang Zheng burst out laughing: "Old Wang, at his age, got his hair yanked by some young whippersnapper? When he shows up at court tomorrow, I've got to see that for myself!"

Seeing him laugh so freely, you'd think he was a man of genuine character.

But both Xue Jie and Xie Jitong knew exactly what he was really like, so they just smiled and played along, without letting their guard down one bit.

Xiang Zheng laughed, dabbing the tears from his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Yuheng."

Xie Jitong clasped his hands and said, "Your servant is here."

Xiang Zheng's tone still carried lingering amusement: "When I sent you to reprimand Lu Deyao, the prefect of Yizhou, you saw Wenren Yue with your own eyes. You knew who he looked like, yet you called him a dragon among men—what was that about?"