Chapter 321: The Meeting (4)

Chapter 321: The Meeting (4)

Seeing his elder brother's temper had cooled a bit, and that he was sitting there pouting with his head turned, Le Wuya waved Zhi Jie out.

Zhi Jie clutched his injury, giving him a pitiful, pleading look.

Le Wuya shot him a glare: Don't play that game with me.

Seeing through his act, Zhi Jie immediately straightened up and obediently got to his feet.

Le Wuya had his own reasons for sending Zhi Jie away.

He could tell Helian Che was like a guy who'd just been bonked on the head by a falling sign—it hurt and left him dazed, but he hadn't fully snapped out of it yet.

If Zhi Jie was still standing there when he came to, he'd probably catch a serious beating.

Just as Le Wuya was patting himself on the back for reading people so well, he saw Zhi Jie grab a woolen blanket and wrap it around his waist, covering his belly button.

Le Wuya: "…"

He protested, "That's ugly!"

Zhi Jie: "Teacher, your stomach will get cold."

He was already doing his best not to be a buzzkill.

If he wasn't scared of making his teacher mad, he would've wrapped it around him earlier when the teacher was messing with him.

Le Wuya glared at Zhi Jie's back as he walked away, his cheeks puffed out as he hugged the little blanket tighter.

Helian Che watched the whole thing and commented with a totally indifferent look: "Don't listen to him. It looks good on you."

Le Wuya, who could never resist praise from people he cared about, immediately lit up with giddy delight: "Right? I've got another Jing tribe outfit that's also super cute! I'll wear it for you someday, big brother!"

Helian Che didn't reply, just quietly looked at him.

The towering anger vanished into thin air, leaving only a heart full of warmth and tenderness.

He and Le Wuya had always been bound deeply but fated to be apart.

Deep—so deep it went to the bone.

Shallow—so shallow they'd only met a few times in their whole lives.

Unless something unexpected happened, they'd stay far apart for a long, long time.

So shouldn't everything be about what Le Wuya wanted?

Helian Che asked, "Can he keep you safe?"

Le Wuya said proudly, "I don't need anyone to protect me."

He then eagerly wheedled, "But big brother's the exception!"

Helian Che: "…"

He almost couldn't hold back a laugh, but the smile barely touched his lips before he forced it down with sheer willpower.

Helian Che struggled to keep up the dignified air of an older brother, and scolded, "Get to the point. No smooth talk!"

Le Wuya immediately straightened up, his body that had been slyly leaning toward Helian Che snapping back upright: "Oh."

Helian Che noticed him moving back, and a flicker of disappointment flashed in his eyes, his fists clenching a little.

Le Wuya caught the subtle movement out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly looked away, starting to fiddle with the gold leaves on the little flower basket.

Since Le Wuya wasn't making the first move to get close, Helian Che, being the older brother, couldn't exactly act undignified either. He straightened his back and asked coolly, "How've you been lately?"

"Great!" Le Wuya said cheerfully. "But there's something big coming up, so I've been sleeping less."

"Need any help from me?"

Le Wuya thought for a moment. "There is one thing, but I'm afraid big brother won't go along with it."

Helian Che's expression turned serious. "Say it."

He knew Le Wuya had come to Dansui for business.

The merchant caravan he'd brought wasn't just for looks.

Hidden among them were two old miners from Xiaolian Mountain.

According to the miner registry, these two men had been recorded as "deceased" two years ago.

Ever since the Xiaolianzi Mountain's ore deposits had begun to dwindle two years prior, production had gradually decreased. Unable to endure the abuse and mistreatment from Mining Inspector Niu Sanqi, they had seized the opportunity of a mining accident to escape, fleeing all the way from Xiaolian Mountain to Jing tribe territory, where they had temporarily settled.

Helian Che governed with strict discipline, and these two solitary outsiders had long been registered by the local authorities.

The Jing tribe was rich in copper and placer gold deposits, and the two men were kind-hearted and hardworking. Even without official status, they could earn a living with their skills.

Yet, being strangers in a foreign land, they remained outsiders.

They couldn't speak the language and weren't accustomed to the food, but they endured the hardship of staying because they feared the law that read: "Those who evade labor service shall be given one hundred strokes and sent back to their place of origin to serve."

If they fell back into Niu Sanqi's hands, they'd be lucky to escape without being skinned alive.

When they heard that a flash flood had struck Xiaolianzi Mountain, and especially that Niu Sanqi had been buried in the mudslide, the two men were overwhelmed with emotion and wept in each other's arms.

Now, everyone they had ever known was dead.

Those they hated, those they loved—all gone.

They no longer wished to remain in Jing tribe territory, only wanting to return to their homeland.

So, Helian Che had brought the two men along.

Not a single miner from Xiaolianzi Mountain had survived. With these two men present, they could testify to Niu Sanqi's crimes of mistreating the miners.

Thinking he could just kick the bucket and earn himself a fine reputation as "diligent in duty, died in the line of service"? That would be letting him off far too easily.

Helian Che had made up his mind—if Yaya would just be a little obedient and say something nice, perhaps even plead with him a bit and ask if he had any leads, then he could naturally hand these two men over to him.

Who would have thought that Le Wuya would say something utterly lacking in ambition: "I want big brother to hold me and sing me a lullaby to help me sleep!"

Helian Che: "…………"

He commented with a stern face: "So spoiled."

Le Wuya gazed at him with pleading eyes.

"You shameless thing."

Le Wuya put on a pitiful, hangdog look.

"...Come here."

Having gotten his way, Le Wuya pounced over all eager and excited.

Helian Che carried him back to bed, tucked the blanket around him, sat on the edge, patted his shoulder, and hummed a soft Jing tribe tune.

Le Wuya had been on the road for days, and even after getting back, he'd still found the energy to mess with Xiang Zhijie. Now, dead tired, he found himself dozing off to the gentle tune.

Seeing he wasn't going to bring up anything important, Helian Che decided to ask about other things: "I heard you have two older brothers?"

"Mm."

"Are they good to you?"

"Very good."

Helian Che gritted his teeth internally, barely holding back the urge to have them killed: "They don't know you were abducted?"

"They don't."

"...That's good then."

"They love me just as much as you do, big brother." Le Wuya buried his face in the pillow that smelled like Xiang Zhijie's sandalwood, smiling sleepily. "Xiaoliu... is good to me too. I've been pretty damn lucky."

Helian Che looked at this younger brother who'd been lost to the outside world since childhood: "How have you been lucky?"

"None of you hate me." Le Wuya murmured softly. "Only Uncle hates me. Even when I was dying, he wouldn't come see me."

This was the first time they'd talked about Damuqi since finding each other again.

Helian Che was silent for a moment.

He leaned down, embraced Le Wuya, and said softly, "He doesn't hate you."

Back then, the baby who'd been mistakenly snatched up the mountain, wrapped in the same blue swaddling as Le Wuya, had been hurled off the cliff by the guilty bandits.

Damuqi couldn't recover the baby from the bottom of that ten-thousand-zhang cliff—just a pulp of blood and mud. Furious beyond reason, like a demon possessed, he slaughtered every last bandit on that mountain, heads rolling like melons—but it still couldn't bring Yaya back.

When he heard Damuqi was back, Helian Che, still just a kid, clung to a sliver of hope. Clutching his wound, he limped off to find him.

But when he found him, Damuqi had holed up in a corner, biting down hard on his sleeve, sobbing his heart out, gasping between cries.

Helian Che's wound throbbed painfully as he asked carefully, "Uncle, where's Yaya?"

The blood on Damuqi's hands and face was still fresh. Tears streaked down, looking like bloody tears: "That bastard threw him off the cliff... I... I let my sister down, let Yaya down. If only I'd gotten there one step sooner, just one step..."

Helian Che said nothing, just sat down beside him, completely spent.

The two of them sat there in silence.

Truth be told, Helian Che was the one who'd truly hated Le Wuya—hated him enough to want to kill him himself.

In Helian Che's eyes, he was Yaya's only living family, and only he had the right to end this twisted bond.

Unlike Helian Che, who was complicated and prickly, Damuqi was a simple, straightforward man.

Family had always come first for him.

Yaya being alive was the best news he could've asked for.

Besides, Yaya had taken him alive—proof he was a capable, promising kid.

As for being tricked into turning against his own family, that wasn't his fault.

Like Damuqi said, Yaya was a good kid; whatever anyone taught him, he learned.

So it was all the Dayu folks' fault.

After his daily round of hating the Dayu people, Helian Che pulled Le Wuya into his arms, patting and soothing him just like he used to when holding him as a kid watching the sunset.

Le Wuya cracked open one sleepy eye: "Brother."

"Mm."

"Uncle doesn't hate me, but do you hate me?"

A long silence.

"I hated you once. It wasn't easy." Helian Che finally answered. "I'd rather love you."

Satisfied, Le Wuya reached out his arm, just like he did as a kid, and looped it around his brother's neck.

But Helian Che caught a glimpse of his bare shoulder and the hint of women's clothing under the blanket. As if confirming his suspicions, he furrowed his sharp brows and shook his head.

...

Le Wuya then sank into a deep, dreamless slumber.

When Xiang Zhijie called him up for dinner, he sat up groggily, looked around, and Helian Che was already gone.

Le Wuya was used to his brother's mysterious comings and goings by now: "When did brother leave?"

"Around two hours ago," Xiang Zhijie said. "After he left, two people showed up at the yamen gate. They said they used to work at Xiaolianzi Mountain, fled to escape Niu Sanqi's persecution, and when they heard what happened there, came to turn themselves in, hoping to go back to their hometown."

Le Wuya stretched lazily: "And what else?"

He could tell Xiang Zhijie had something he wanted to say.

Xiang Zhijie pressed his lips together, hesitated, then pointed to a big chest in the corner: "Big brother also sent over a dozen or so outfits."

Le Wuya opened it and was instantly stunned.

The chest was packed to the brim with women's clothes.

From Central Plains scholar gowns to Dian batik skirts, from northwestern floral brocade robes to tea-picking girls' plain half-sleeves and aprons—you name it.

Helian Che had clearly played favorites, stuffing in three sets of Jing tribe outfits as well.

Along with them were fine cosmetics and powders, plus jewelry in all kinds of materials—gold beads, amber, agate, coral—and even a little forehead band set with a rare, gorgeous cat's eye stone.

Tucked inside was a note in Helian Che's own handwriting, every word dripping with exasperation: "Have better taste."

Le Wuya: "..."