Chapter 71

Chapter 71

Shen Song and Xie Zhiyu had finally acknowledged their feelings for each other.

Shen Song felt that love was nothing special—it just made your face get a little red and your heart beat a little faster.

He had it completely under control.

After holding each other for a long while, the two finally calmed their heartbeats, and their faces were no longer so red. They pulled apart a little.

Only then could Shen Song get a good look at Xie Zhiyu, and he noticed that Xie Zhiyu was also wearing earrings today.

The gold setting was inlaid with obsidian.

His outfit today was also dark, and it shimmered with a pearl-like sheen in the sunlight. The fabric was woven with gold thread brocade, and jade pendants and gems hung from his ornate belt.

Shen Song couldn't stop looking. "Xie Zhiyu, you look beautiful today, too. You look beautiful every day."

Xie Zhiyu tilted his head and looked at Shen Song. "You like staring that much?"

"Yeah."

"Then you should look at me more every day." Xie Zhiyu held back a smile and made the request as casually as he could.

Shen Song wanted to nod, but then he thought of something and shook his head instead. "Not lately. I've got stuff going on at home right now."

Xie Zhiyu asked, "The thing with your fifth brother-in-law and his parents?"

Shen Song was a bit surprised. "How do you know?"

"The shadow guards told me. They also said you won the fight and didn't get hurt at all."

Shen Song let out a little laugh and raised an eyebrow. "Aren't I awesome!"

"Yeah, very awesome. You finally learned not to ram people like a bull."

Shen Song scratched his head. "Good thing I've picked up some martial arts moves, or I'd have a headache again."

Xie Zhiyu looked at Shen Song's head. "I'll teach you some martial arts. You want to learn?"

Shen Song immediately said yes. "Once my family handles this thing, I'll come learn."

Xie Zhiyu said lightly, "I'll take care of it. Come see me tomorrow. I'll have the kitchen make you some sweet steamed milk custard, and also some shaved ice."

"What's that shaved ice thing?" Shen Song had never heard of it in his life.

Seeing that he had successfully gotten Shen Song on the hook, Xie Zhiyu pressed his advantage. "It's made with crushed ice, milk, and other stuff. The new chef from the capital is really good at making food from all over. You want some?"

"Yeah! I want some!"

Xie Zhiyu chuckled softly. The fish had taken the bait.

Luring Shen Song with food was easier than fishing.

Every cast gets a bite.

Xie Zhiyu didn't say anything more, nor did he do anything else. He sent Shen Song home and told him to relay a message to his family—he'd handle everything from here, and the Shen family didn't need to worry about this anymore.

During lunch, Shen Song told his family everything Xie Zhiyu had asked him to pass along.

The Shen family was grateful that Xie Zhiyu was willing to lend a hand, but wasn't he getting a bit too involved with their family? They didn't want to be too indebted to Xie Zhiyu, lest Shen Song feel obligated to side with him.

No one in the Shen family said anything. After the meal, Liu Chunxia didn't head out to the fields. Instead, she pulled Shen Song into the room and seriously asked him what he thought of Xie Zhiyu and how he felt about him.

Shen Song said without a second thought, "Once I'm ready to have kids, I'm going to marry Xie Zhiyu."

Have kids? Get married?

Liu Chunxia was stunned. She didn't understand how her Xiao Ba, who had seemed totally clueless before, had suddenly wised up in such a short time.

"Xiao Ba, do you really want to marry Lord Xie and become his husband?" Liu Chunxia confirmed again.

Shen Song nodded. "Yes, Ma. I like Xie Zhiyu. I really like him."

Worried his mother wouldn't believe him, Shen Song tried his best to prove it. "I like him so much I only want to kiss him."

Liu Chunxia gave a little cough, a bit uncomfortable. "Xiao Ba, don't say stuff like that out loud anymore. Just keep those thoughts to yourself."

"Okay, Ma." That wasn't too hard to do, so Shen Song nodded in agreement.

The Shen family could handle the Li family matter on their own—it would just take some time. After learning how Shen Song felt, Liu Chunxia talked it over with Shen Dashu all night and decided to let Xie Zhiyu handle it after all.

This was their family's way of silently accepting the relationship between the two.

That Lord Xie had taken a liking to their Xiao Ba for nearly three years now. He'd even jumped off a cliff for their Xiao Ba—he didn't seem like the kind of person to give up.

Might as well go along with his attempt to show goodwill. As for the details, they could find a good time later to talk things over properly.

If his parents were okay with it, they could sit down and set a wedding date.

Their Xiao Ba wasn't getting any younger, after all.

The Li family didn't show up in Shen Family Gully for the next two days.

The Shen family didn't know what Xie Zhiyu had actually done, but the days passed by peacefully.

Then word came from the mountain hollow.

That was when the Shen family found out that Li Laojiu's whole family had been accused of being unfilial and were all thrown in jail.

Li Laojiu had more than a dozen siblings in his generation, not all from the same mother or father.

Li Laojiu's little father, Old Fulang Xu, was his father's fourth spouse—the previous three had all died.

Old Fulang Xu had only had one son, Li Laojiu. The others were all sons and daughters.

By rights, Li Laojiu was supposed to take care of him in his old age.

But when Old Master Li passed away, Li Laojiu hadn't started a family yet, and Old Fulang Xu was technically the youngest father of all the Li descendants, so all of them were supposed to support him.

With so many people, taking care of one person wasn't a big deal. At that time, Old Fulang Xu was still in good health and could work.

But later, when Li Laojiu got married, he didn't really take care of his youngest father. With so many older brothers and sisters to take the lead, and younger siblings beneath him, he didn't have to do anything—the old man wouldn't die anyway.

And Old Fulang Xu was a person who lived a long life. The children who weren't his own had all died for various reasons, yet he was still alive and kicking.

But as he grew older, though he was long-lived, his health deteriorated, and he could no longer support himself.

Li Laojiu saw that his older brothers and sisters had all passed away, so he told his younger siblings to take care of Old Man Xu. He claimed his own family couldn't even afford food, and that if the old man stayed with him, he'd starve to death.

Which of them could afford to feed him? The younger siblings knew exactly what kind of person their ninth brother was—if they didn't take care of the old man, he surely wouldn't survive.

They managed a few more years, but eventually they couldn't keep it up either.

Either their health failed, or their in-laws refused to let them.

All those years, Li Laojiu never lifted a finger or spent a single cent.

Last year, in the dead of night, Old Man Xu was carried on a wooden plank and left at Li Laojiu's doorstep.

After discovering this, Li Laojiu, while the village was asleep, moved him into the cellar.

He knew Old Man Xu had been sent back by his younger siblings' in-laws, and those people knew the old man was at his place. He didn't dare kill him outright, so he just let him die on his own.

He gave him food and water only once every few days. A whole year in that cellar, and the old man still hadn't died.

Li Laojiu truly hadn't expected the old man to be so damn tough—hair and teeth nearly gone, starving and freezing, and still hanging on.

Nor did he expect their scheme to be exposed one morning, despite their careful secrecy. Everyone in Shanwa Village thought the old man was living with one of the other siblings.

They had no idea who'd ratted them out. Officers burst into the courtyard, accusing the family of abusing an elder and hauling them off to the county court for trial.

In the courtroom, an old man with sparse hair had to be supported just to sit in the chair.

He was skin and bones, loose and withered skin hanging off his frame, his cloudy eyes glaring hatefully at the row of people kneeling on the floor.

These were his sons, daughters-in-law, grandsons, and grandsons' wives.

The past year of living worse than an animal had filled Old Man Xu with loathing for his son's family. The more they wanted him dead, the more determined he was to live!

Heaven finally saw, and at last he could seek justice for himself.

That night, deep in the cellar, a figure dressed in black with a half-mask appeared. The person read him a written complaint—accusing Li Laojiu's family of abusing an elder and failing in their filial duties.

After hearing the contents, he pressed his trembling thumb onto the red ink pad.

He only regretted that his age and extreme weakness prevented him from making his thumbprint faster and more accurately.

The next morning, he heard a racket outside the cellar. Before long, the only entrance was opened, letting a beam of light in.

He was blindfolded, led out of the cellar, and brought into a room. Someone bathed him, dressed him in new clothes, had a doctor treat him, gave him medicine, and fed him.

Old Man Xu knew deep down that his benefactor wanted something from him, but he had also truly rescued him from a hellish place, allowing him, in his remaining years, to live with dignity and die with a little decency.

Such a crime was one of the most heinous offenses, requiring the County Magistrate to preside over the trial personally.

Xie Zhiyu wore a red round-collar official robe and a black gauze hat with dark patterns on its soft wings. He sat upright in the official chair. The Deputy Magistrate conducted the interrogation and verification first, while Xie Zhiyu listened quietly.

Li Laojiu's neighbors, along with the village head, Li Dayou, all knelt in the hall.

The neighbors' families waited anxiously outside, furious with Li Laojiu.

They had abused the old man and covered it up every way they could—how could they have known that Li Laojiu's little father was locked in a cellar suffering?

This Li Laojiu had caused trouble and dragged them, completely innocent, into this mess.

Their family members had been locked up for two days. Fortunately, the case was brought to trial quickly; otherwise, they might have stayed locked up until the trial proved they didn't know anything and released them.

It was really nerve-wracking.

In the courtroom, every question the Deputy Magistrate asked was met with Li Laojiu and his family crying out that they were innocent.

Imprisoning the old man—they claimed innocent. Starving him—they claimed innocent. Throwing him in the cellar—they claimed innocent.

In short, they were all "innocent."

Li Laojiu's younger siblings also testified. They too had been held for two days, but since Old Man Xu hadn't accused them, they were only there to testify.

Based on their accounts, it was confirmed that Li Laojiu had never supported Old Man Xu from the very beginning—an act of filial impiety.

And the fact that Old Man Xu had been rescued from the cellar was undeniable. The filthy, stinking clothes he had worn, caked with filth, were also presented in court.

The Deputy Magistrate was fed up with Li Laojiu's family stubbornly crying "innocent" over and over. "Your Honor, the evidence and witnesses are all here, yet the criminal Li Laojiu and his family show no remorse and have a terrible attitude. I request that Your Honor order a beating to make an example of them."

On the upper right corner of the magistrate's desk sat four bamboo containers for lots, bearing the words "Uphold the Law with Clarity and Severity." Each container held bamboo sticks. In the "Enforce" container were white-tipped sticks, black-tipped sticks, and red-tipped sticks. A white stick represented one lash of the board, a black stick five lashes, and a red stick ten lashes.

Xie Zhiyu reached out, his slender fingers brushing through the crowded sticks in the container, and drew out a red-tipped one. He tossed it out casually, and it landed on the floor with a crisp clatter.

The bailiffs on both sides immediately stepped forward, held down Li Laojiu's family, and administered the punishment one by one.

They hadn't bothered to bribe the men wielding the boards beforehand—had they paid in advance, the boards would have sounded loud but caused little real harm.

Now, the men were all stripped of their pants and beaten, while the women and the younger men kept their trousers on, but ten strokes still broke the skin, and the fabric stuck into the wounds—which was agonizing in itself.

Li Laojiu's family howled and screamed in the courtroom, no longer daring to argue. After just three strokes, they were shouting that they were unfilial, admitting to the imprisonment and abuse.

They also confessed to trying to starve Old Man Xu to death and to never having supported him.

The crime of filial impiety was one of the ten unpardonable crimes—a grave offense.

Once confirmed, the sentence would be harsh.

Li Laojiu's neighbors, including the village head and Li Dayou, were terrified watching the family get beaten and wail in pain. They were scared out of their wits.

After that, they answered whatever the Deputy Magistrate asked, not daring to say a word out of line or add anything more.

In the end, it was confirmed that they had been unaware that Old Man Xu had been imprisoned and abused in the cellar by his own son.

They were let go and sent home.

As for Li Laojiu and his entire family, they were all thrown in jail.

The final sentencing hadn't been decided yet. The children would likely be released, but Li Laojiu, his wife, and the sons and daughters-in-law involved wouldn't get off so easily.

Back in the damp, cold cell, Li Laojiu was scared shitless. The floor stank horribly—layers of dried, caked feces and urine.

Rats scurried about from time to time, a few creeping up to his hand, trying to take a nibble.

After the beating, Li Laojiu was in agony. He didn't dare move suddenly. He first twitched his fingers slightly, but the rats weren't frightened at all.

Only when he swung his arm did the rats scurry away.

The sudden movement made his wounds worse, and he winced in pain.

Just then, a figure in black wearing a half-mask entered the cell.

"Do you want to live?" the other asked coldly.

Li Laojiu's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. Lying on the ground, he reached out to tug at the dark-clad guard's robe, saying excitedly, "Yes! Can you save me, hero? Please, hero, save me! Once I get out, I'll sell my family's land and give you all the silver!"

Even with someone tugging at him, the dark-clad guard stood as still as a mountain. He pulled a piece of paper from his robe and said to Li Laojiu, "This is a document to sever family ties. Sign it, and I'll make sure your wife and kids stay safe."

Li Laojiu replied without thinking twice, "Why save them? Save me!"

"As a son, you're the mastermind. If I save you, your wife and kids will definitely die. Otherwise, if they talk, a lot of people will get dragged into it. Do you want them to die?"

"I want to live!" Li Laojiu, afraid the guard wouldn't go with his choice, said urgently, "I know you're a big shot connected to the Shen family. You came to have me sign this to help Li Maizi cut ties with us, so we're no longer related. Since you're having me sign, you must be planning to save me!"

The guard grunted in acknowledgment and held out the ink pad to Li Laojiu. "Press your thumbprint."

"But what if I press it and you don't save me?" Li Laojiu asked warily.

"I could knock you out now and still get your thumbprint. Don't try to bargain with me."

The guard's voice was icy, and Li Laojiu shuddered, realizing he had no room to negotiate. He obediently pressed his thumbprint.

-

Shen Song had been waiting at the Xie residence for Xie Zhiyu for a good while that day.

You An said the master had gone to the courthouse on business and would be back before lunch.

Shen Song practiced calligraphy by himself in the study, with You An keeping him company and occasionally bringing snacks from the small kitchen.

They were all pastries and sweet soups Shen Song had never tasted before.

Every last one was delicious.

You An said it was an imperial chef from the capital, skilled not just in cooking but in many different cuisines.

Shen Song figured an imperial chef was just a really skilled cook, and he nodded in wholehearted agreement.

After eating some pastries, dried meat, and drinking sweet soup, Shen Song got tired of writing.

He wanted to find something to read.

He'd already learned quite a few characters, but so far, he hadn't actually read any real books.

The only books at home were Shen Chong's, but Shen Song didn't want to read them.

Those books were weird—he could recognize almost every character, but when they were put together, he couldn't understand what they meant. And that wasn't all; whenever he looked at his fifth brother's books, his head would spin, his eyelids would get heavy, and he'd get drowsy.

The moment he looked at them, he'd want to sleep. Those books were really weird.

Shen Song didn't want to read them, and he didn't like them at all.

When You An heard Shen Song wanted to read, he offered to take him to the bookshelves to find something.

Shen Song followed him and said to You An, "I want to read something fun, something that won't make me sleepy."

Hearing Shen Song's request, You An couldn't help but chuckle and promised to find him something interesting.

Shen Song smiled and nodded. While You An searched for a book, Shen Song looked around the bookshelves.

A whole wall of bookshelves, neatly organized and packed with books, along with a curio cabinet displaying rare treasures as decoration.

Shen Song was amazed at how many books Xie Zhiyu had.

As he looked around, Shen Song was drawn to a big, round scroll jar beside the curio cabinet.

There was a similar one by Xie Zhiyu's desk, but a lot smaller.

Earlier, Xie Zhiyu had shown him the calligraphy and paintings kept in the jar. Some of his own writing—since Xie Zhiyu's study had no more wall space to hang it—had to be kept in the jar for now.

Xie Zhiyu said he'd have them all framed later.

Shen Song approached the jar, which was packed full of framed scrolls.

He wanted to find the writing he'd done before, so he randomly pulled out one scroll, untied the string, and slowly unrolled it.

As the scroll slowly unfurled, a face he knew all too well came into view.

Shen Song's eyes went wide.

Was that him in the painting?

In the painting, Shen Song was eating osmanthus cake, his cheeks puffed out from stuffing too much in, his round eyes curved in delight, with a few crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

Shen Song had no idea when he'd looked like that, captured by Xie Zhiyu and then painted.

It was beautifully drawn, and he recognized himself right away.

Shen Song rolled up the painting, tied the string, and carefully put it back.

He casually pulled out another scroll and carefully opened it—it was another painting of him.

This one showed Shen Song napping on a small couch, sunlight streaming through the carved window and casting patterned shadows on the wall. In the painting, Shen Song was covered with a thin blanket, sleeping soundly.

Shen Song rolled it up, put it back, and pulled out the next one.

As expected, it was another painting of him.

Shen Song remembered this one well.

It was the first time he'd worn the winter clothes Xie Zhiyu had given him. Because Xie Zhiyu had scared him with ghost stories before, he'd been afraid of fur at the time.

And that day, he happened to be wearing a lot of fur. It was also that day that Xie Zhiyu had drawn him a protective talisman, which he still carried on him to this day.

In the painting, he was standing facing forward, full-body, with round eyes and a slight smile. Shen Song didn't know which moment this was that Xie Zhiyu had remembered so vividly, painting it stroke by stroke later.

He put the scroll back and looked at the others.

Every single one was of him.

Him at different times—angry, happy, sleeping, writing, eating, worried, and even the time under the cliff when he'd overused his Superpower and looked unwell.

So many versions of him.

You An had already found a book. Seeing Shen Song looking intently at the paintings, he glanced at the person in them and quietly said nothing, waiting for Shen Song to finish.

Shen Song arranged all the scrolls neatly, took the several volumes of "The Travels of Lancheng" that You An had found for him, and went back to the desk.

But once he sat down, he couldn't focus on reading.

He couldn't stop thinking about Xie Zhiyu.

The big scroll jar was filled to the brim with paintings—of him at every stage, with every emotion. Xie Zhiyu, without Shen Song knowing, had carefully recorded every version of him.

He left traces of his existence in this world for Shen Song.

What was going through Xie Zhiyu’s mind when he painted those pictures?

Shen Song suddenly dared not think about it.

He had once been utterly oblivious—and it seemed he’d hurt Xie Zhiyu without even realizing it.

When would Xie Zhiyu return?

God, he missed him so desperately.

Shen Song sat at the desk, lost in thought, until You An called out cheerfully, “The master is back!”

Shen Song immediately shot to his feet and rushed out—only to collide head-on with Xie Zhiyu, who was hurrying in, right at the rosewood screen.

Xie Zhiyu seized the moment, pulling him close to steady himself. Holding him filled his heart with utter contentment, and he murmured with a soft smile, “Shen Song, why are you so clingy?”

“I saw your paintings,” Shen Song said, lifting his gaze. “You drew so many of me. Did you think of me every day?”

Xie Zhiyu lowered his eyes to him, his tone lightly chiding. “You’re only realizing this now? Fool.”

“I *am* a fool,” Shen Song admitted for the first time—offering no argument.

How had he never noticed that Xie Zhiyu’s feelings for him were different?

Yet he still tried to defend himself, just a little. “But the moment I realized my own feelings had changed, I began missing you every day too. I simply didn’t know before—I couldn’t tell. I’m not *that* foolish.”

Xie Zhiyu ground his teeth faintly.

God, he ached to kiss him.

Shen Song tilted his head. “Xie Zhiyu, do you have a toothache? Why are you grinding your teeth?”

You An had already slipped out of the study—leaving only Xie Zhiyu and Shen Song alone in the room.

Xie Zhiyu pressed Shen Song against the heavy rosewood screen and, lowering his head, asked, “May I kiss you?”

Shen Song instantly slapped his hand over Xie Zhiyu’s mouth and shook his head frantically, terrified. “No, no, no—don’t! No, you can’t—we’ll have a baby!”

“There won’t be,” Xie Zhiyu replied, one hand cradling the back of Shen Song’s head, his thumb stroking gently. “Just kissing won’t make a baby. Don’t you trust me, Shen Song?”

Shen Song wasn’t sure—but Xie Zhiyu looked slightly wounded.

He *should* trust Xie Zhiyu, shouldn’t he?

Remembering how he’d ignored Xie Zhiyu’s feelings before—and still feeling a flicker of fear—Shen Song rose onto his tiptoes, leaned toward the corner of Xie Zhiyu’s mouth, dropped his hand, and gave him a quick, fleeting kiss.

Before he could even lower his heels, his waist was yanked tight, his head drawn down—and Xie Zhiyu kissed him deeply, fiercely, for a long, breathless moment.

Shen Song lost his balance and couldn’t breathe; in panic, he bit him.

Xie Zhiyu didn’t flinch—not even from the pain—and only held him tighter.

Shen Song’s head spun; he wanted to sleep—but his mouth throbbed too badly.

When Xie Zhiyu finally released him, Shen Song clapped a hand over his mouth and dashed to the desk.

Soon after, Xie Zhiyu entered, carrying a lacquered food box.

A servant had been waiting outside with it; the one stationed at the door had intended to announce his arrival, but—upon hearing certain sounds—wisely retreated and feigned ignorance.

Shen Song’s mouth stung, leaving him uncomfortable, his brows knitted in distress.

He knew Xie Zhiyu had entered—and could smell the clean, soothing pine scent clinging to him.

Deliberately, Shen Song turned his chair away from Xie Zhiyu.

Yet his body betrayed him: leaning back against the chair’s frame, he tilted his head sideways, listening intently as Xie Zhiyu set dish after dish on the table.

Six plates.

He even caught the sweet, delicate aroma of the *sushan*.

Because the *sushan* was too cold—and the weather wasn’t hot enough—Xie Zhiyu strictly limited how often Shen Song was allowed to eat it.

But Shen Song adored it. Each time Xie Zhiyu refused him, he’d pout unhappily—his lips jutting out so far they could hang a bucket.

Now, catching the sweet fragrance of the *sushan*, Shen Song could no longer resist.

How could he betray the *sushan*?!

Xie Zhiyu pulled up another chair, sat across from Shen Song with the desk between them, and watched Shen Song’s furtive little maneuvers. A faint cut marked his lower lip—still tender enough to sting when he smiled.

Shen Song surreptitiously turned his head, his round eyes straining—until at last he spotted the coveted *sushan*.

He pressed his lips together and swallowed—forgetting his mouth was swollen—and winced sharply at the movement.

Xie Zhiyu remained silent, simply watching—waiting to see how long Shen Song could hold out.

As it turned out, Shen Song had zero resistance to food. After being cross with Xie Zhiyu for precisely ten seconds—because his mouth hurt—he knelt on the chair, pressed his chest against the backrest, and reached out for the *sushan*.

He couldn’t even wait to sit upright—just scooped up the icy-sweet *sushan*, leaning precariously over the chair back.

When he licked the spoon, his mouth felt strange—and the *sushan* in his mouth sent odd, tingling numbness across his tongue.

After two bites, he lifted his gaze to Xie Zhiyu—*sushan* still in hand—and declared seriously, “Don’t kiss me like that again. My mouth and tongue really hurt—and eating doesn’t taste as good as before.”

Xie Zhiyu’s eyes darkened. “What are you saying? You’re choosing food over me?”

Shen Song blinked, puzzled. Was *that* what he’d meant?

“I didn’t.”

“Then aren’t you blaming me because eating the *sushan* is uncomfortable?”

Shen Song fell silent. Yes—he was.

“But what I meant isn’t what you’re saying,” Shen Song insisted.

Xie Zhiyu snorted, looking genuinely hurt. “Shen Song—you chose food over me.”

“Does refusing that kind of kiss mean I don’t want you?” Shen Song grew anxious, set the *sushan* down, and pouted slightly to show Xie Zhiyu. “It hurts—and my tongue hurts too.”

Xie Zhiyu gazed at Shen Song’s swollen lips—his ears flushing bright red.

He stood, braced his hands on the desk, leaned forward—and gently kissed Shen Song’s burning lips. “I’ll apply some medicine for you.”

Shen Song's breath caught, his heart pounding wildly.

Oh heavens, why did he suddenly not want to stay mad anymore?

Xie Zhiyu brought ointment to apply to Shen Song's mouth. The two sat facing each other, Shen Song tilting his head up so Xie Zhiyu could apply the medicine more easily.

Now that they'd both calmed down, Shen Song noticed Xie Zhiyu's clothes today were different from his usual ones.

Xie Zhiyu often wore red, but this red outfit felt different from before.

It gave off an air of dignity and solemnity.

Today's hair crown was also a simple jade one, with a net cap across his forehead.

Shen Song was drawn to Xie Zhiyu's unusual bearing and found himself entranced again.

Xie Zhiyu knew that look in Shen Song's eyes all too well and let out a relieved breath.

After applying the ointment to Shen Song's mouth, Shen Song said, "I bit your lip, so let me put some on for you too."

Xie Zhiyu smiled. "Sure."

With that, he placed both hands on the sides of Shen Song's chair, leaned in, and kissed Shen Song's medicated mouth.

"All done."

Shen Song instinctively lowered his head.

His face turned red.

Because Shen Song's mouth and tongue were both uncomfortable, and he still didn't know if kissing could make a baby, he said Xie Zhiyu wasn't allowed to kiss his mouth again until he recovered and figured things out.

Xie Zhiyu agreed.

And then Shen Song's cheeks started taking the hits.

When Qi Yuanjing was called over, he saw Shen Song dodging Xie Zhiyu.

He set down his medicine box, puzzled. "Did you two get into a fight?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Xie Zhiyu and saw the wound on his lower lip—he knew at a glance exactly what kind of wound that was.

It was almost too much to look at.

Just then, Shen Song walked over to Qi Yuanjing, cheeks slightly flushed.

"I'm afraid he'll bite my face again, so I need to keep my distance."

Qi Yuanjing heard this and thought he shouldn't have asked in the first place.

Shen Song invited Qi Yuanjing to sit and asked directly, "You said before that kissing means getting married and having a baby—what's that all about?"

Qi Yuanjing felt Xie Zhiyu's death glare on him and his back stiffened.

He gave a dry laugh and explained, "Well, it's not that kissing makes a boy conceive. It's that when a boy and a man have that kind of intimate contact, by social custom, they have to get married. And after marriage, naturally, they'd conceive. Just kissing alone—no matter how or where—won't make a boy pregnant. Don't worry, Song Geer."

Shen Song nodded and asked casually, "Then how does a boy end up with a baby in his belly?"

Qi Yuanjing choked on his own spit, coughing up a storm.

He took the chance to glance at Xie Zhiyu—sure enough, the guy was staring at him.

Even if he weren't staring, how could he dare tell a young boy about that stuff? That'd be practically flirting with him!

Qi Yuanjing quickly said, "I'm not married yet, so I don't know much about that. If you want to know, you'll figure it out once you're married."

Shen Song gave an "oh" and didn't push further.

Qi Yuanjing then took Xie Zhiyu's pulse, confirming his body was fine and even improving, which put him at ease.

"I need to get back to help my master. Send someone to find me if anything happens."

Xie Zhiyu knew Qi Yuanjing and Shan Yue had been researching smallpox, so he nodded and had someone see Qi Yuanjing back properly.

After Qi Yuanjing left, Shen Song was like a little cat that had seen a stranger come into the house—he immediately disappeared.

Xie Zhiyu took a piece of paper from his robe and said casually, "Your fifth brother-in-law's severance document is here. Want to see it?"

Shen Song peeked out from behind the small couch with round eyes. "I want to see it."

Xie Zhiyu chuckled and walked over.

"Come out and sit. The floor's cold."

Shen Song glanced at the severance document in Xie Zhiyu's hand, hesitated a moment, then came out covering his cheeks.

He sat down on one side of the arhat couch, and Xie Zhiyu sat on the other.

Xie Zhiyu handed the document to Shen Song, who opened it and looked down to read, but kept some attention on Xie Zhiyu, staying wary.

Shen Song read slowly. When he finished, he confirmed it was the severance document his family wanted, and he was happy for his fifth brother-in-law.

Putting the document away, he looked up and asked Xie Zhiyu, "I heard his family was arrested for the crime of filial impiety. What'll happen to them?"

Xie Zhiyu said, "The trial was just confirmed today. The specific punishment still needs further discussion. It should be decided within the next few days—I'll let you know then."

Shen Song said, "I don't want to know about them. When I go back, I'll ask my fifth brother-in-law. If he wants to know, you can tell me then, and I'll pass it on."

"Why not?" Xie Zhiyu asked.

"Because I don't care about them."

Xie Zhiyu wasn't surprised by Shen Song's answer. He continued, "Do you want to know about me?"

Shen Song said without hesitation, "Of course I do. The more I like you, the more I want to know about you—even the tiniest things."

Xie Zhiyu was secretly pleased. "Then why've you never asked me?"

Shen Song said, "Because the more I like you, the more I'm afraid of seeing you sad or unhappy. You couldn't eat before, you still have dormant Gu worms in your body, and you've never mentioned your family to me. I think those things must all cause you great pain, which is why you don't bring them up or talk about them. If I asked, you'd get upset."

Xie Zhiyu was silent, his eyes fixed on Shen Song, lost in thought.

After a moment, he said, "Shen Song, let me hold you."

Sunlight spilled across the arhat couch. Shen Song, who had been embracing Xie Zhiyu, had fallen asleep in Xie Zhiyu's arms, half his face buried in the crook of his arm, sleeping peacefully.

Occasionally, as if dreaming something sweet, he'd smile with his lips pressed together.

Xie Zhiyu looked down at Shen Song's sleeping face, feeling a peace he'd never known before.

He pressed a tender kiss to Shen Song's forehead, pulling him even closer.

What was he supposed to do?

God, he loved him so much.

Shen Song woke up, blinking his eyes, feeling all soft and drowsy.

He rubbed his eyes, and Xie Zhiyu took his hand away, grabbing a damp cloth from the small basin on the table to wipe his face.

Xie Zhiyu's movements were a little clumsy, his face gave nothing away, but his ears were red.

"Do you want to hang out here a bit longer, or go check out the new clothes I had made for you?"

Once his face was wiped, Shen Song felt a lot more awake.

He actually wanted to go taste the delicacies made by the imperial chef from the capital.

But Xie Zhiyu didn't offer that option, so Shen Song said, "I want to stay here with you a while longer."

Xie Zhiyu quirked his lips. "Then we'll do what you want."