Chapter 209 - Embrace

The Tea Stone Pit was Shen Zechuan's night.

When he first entered the Zhaozui Temple, the buildings were dilapidated, and the broken windows couldn't keep out the cold wind. Ji Gang left the only shelter to him for sleeping. He lay on his arm, not daring to tell his master that he couldn't sleep.

Back then, Shen Zechuan could still clearly remember Ji Mu's face. His elder brother had the shadow of Hua Pingting's beauty, and he was handsome. When they were at home, matchmakers almost wore out the doorstep.

"I'm thinking about getting promoted," Ji Mu crouched in the yard, eating dumplings. "Once I get promoted, we'll move to the eastern side."

Shen Zechuan imitated him, shoving dumplings into his cheeks until they bulged. Nodding vaguely, he said, "I'll keep an eye on your sister-in-law for you."

Ji Mu had a childhood sweetheart who used to live next door to them but later moved to the east. Her father was a fawning opportunist, always trying to get his daughter into the government office. Ji Mu joined the army to prove himself and worked tirelessly every day, hoping to marry her before she was given away in marriage.

Ji Gang didn't make much money, so the family wasn't wealthy. Hua Pingting raised two sons, saving their dowries as future marriage funds. Seeing that Ji Mu was already quite old, she discussed with Ji Gang about finding a matchmaker.

Winter in Duanzhou was desolate, with the Tea Stone River lying to the east. When they were younger, they would drag sleds on the frozen surface during winter. Shen Zechuan, being clever, would always trick the younger kids into acting as horses while he pretended to be the lord, sitting on the sled and directing them around.

At that time, Ji Mu told Ji Gang, "My little brother will definitely achieve great things someday."

Flower Pinting treated Shen Zechuan like her own son, and Ji Mu regarded him as his own younger brother. While Xiao Chiye and Xiao Jiming were practicing archery in the northern steppes, Ji Mu would take Shen Zechuan along to roam aimlessly across the hills. Before Shen Zechuan turned fifteen, his skills in the Ji family's martial arts were rather sloppy; Ji Mu always covered for him, shielding him from Flower Pinting's scoldings.

In the third year of Xiande, Ji Mu was promoted to a minor military rank, filling his entire family with joy. Hua Pingting took charge of the celebrations, counting their savings repeatedly, preparing to entrust a matchmaker with proposing to a young lady from the eastern district on behalf of Ji Gang.

Back then, Ji Mu was on duty, so Shen Zechuan carried the meal packed by Hua Pingting to deliver it to his elder brother in the garrison camp. That night was the last time Shen Zechuan saw Hua Pingting. His master's wife stood at the entrance of the courtyard, buttoning his robe for him, putting on his wind collar, and making sure he was well-covered. She urged him, "Return early."

Ji Mu secretly poured wine for Shen Zechuan, who delicately sipped it with his chopsticks, sitting amidst a row of burly soldiers, resembling a tender green radish wrapped in a cloak. As the snow fell, these rugged men spoke of the auspicious snow foretelling a bountiful harvest next year in Zhendao Prefecture.

With his chopsticks tapping against the porcelain bowl, Ji Mu sang a melody of Qingping Tune. Back then, he was merely twenty, on the verge of marrying his beloved bride. The bond between him and his brother was harmonious, and their parents were in good health with no worries. It was a time of youthful vigor and prosperity.

Whenever Shen Zechuan recollects that fateful night, tears inevitably stream down his face. In the hallowed halls of Zhaozui Temple, he found his courage to revisit the past utterly depleted, rendering those bygone days forever elusive in his dreams. Over the course of seven long years, Ji Mu had morphed into a loathsome skeleton in his nightmares, erasing from Shen Zechuan's memory not only his elder brother's visage but also the very essence of their final conversation.

Why didn't he reach out to help Ji Mu?

Shen Zechuan climbed out, only to stumble back in. In his early years, he would lie there weeping uncontrollably. It was within this space that "Shen Zechuan" was left behind. When he stood up, he saw snow burying everything in its path.

Boots trod on the accumulated snow, producing a soft crunching sound.

Shen Zechuan turned his indifferent gaze back, catching sight of Ji Mu, who had just arrived amidst the falling snow, looking weary from his journey. Tonight, Ji Mu was unblemished, free from any injuries. He held the hilt of his blade and approached Shen Zechuan.

Seven years had passed, yet Ji Mu seemed unchanged. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold, and he exhaled clouds of steam as he walked, his former ferocity from battling in a sea of blood now vanished. Shen Zechuan gazed at him, recalling the peaceful melody Ji Mu had played before leaving.

Shen Zechuan had grown as tall as Ji Mu now. He said wearily, "Brother."

Ji Mu stopped in front of Shen Zechuan, his disheveled hair swaying in the snowstorm. He asked, "Why didn't you return home?"

Shen Zechuan replied, "The snow was too heavy; I forgot the way."

Ji Mu smiled at Shen Zechuan. "Silly boy, Mother is looking for you."

Shen Zechuan turned around and saw Huapieting in the distance. His teacher's wife held a lantern in the heavy snow, her skirt billowing in the wind. As he watched, tears streamed down his face.

He remembered everything, thus wanting to forget it all.

Ji Mu steadied his saber and walked past Shen Zechuan, heading towards Huapieting.

Suddenly, Shen Zechuan couldn't restrain himself and cried out, "Brother!"

With a quavering voice, Shen Zechuan reached out to grab Ji Mu, but Ji Mu didn't turn back. Shen Zechuan chased after him, with each step causing the blood beneath his feet to rise higher. He hurriedly tried to escape, but he couldn't break free, ultimately collapsing into the pool of blood, entangled with corpses. He screamed at Ji Mu with all his might, "Come back!"

Ji Mu was almost lost in the snow.

Shen Zechuan could grasp nothing but be submerged in the collapsing sinkhole, overwhelmed by the blood and water. Panic from drowning engulfed him as he struggled, watching the faint light fade away.

"Shen Lanzhou—!"

Xiao Chiye scooped Shen Zechuan up. His sturdy shoulders bore the onslaught of the storm. He was like a blazing sun, sweeping away the darkness with a fierce gust of wind, dispersing the snowflakes. Xiao Chiye's heat was so intense that nothing else could come close to Shen Zechuan.

Shen Zechuan abruptly woke up, drenched from head to toe. Xiao Chiye cupped his face, their noses brushing in the darkness as he kissed him soothingly. Still panting, Shen Zechuan wrapped his arms around Xiao Chiye's neck, tears welling up in his eyes as he leaned into the embrace.

Xiao Chiye leaned in and coaxed, "Lanzhou, come back to me."

Shen Zechuan nodded in fear, bumping his forehead against Xiao Chiye's. His eyes were filled with terror as he gazed into Xiao Chiye's. Xiao Chiye wiped away the moisture from the corners of Shen Zechuan's eyes and stroked his cheeks.

"It's alright now," Xiao Chiye whispered, planting a kiss for every word, "hold on tight."

The military tent was newly erected, and the charcoal brazier had not been burning hot enough to last through the night. The two of them slept on a simple wooden bed with a thin mattress beneath and a cloak draped over them. Worried that Lanzhou might fall ill, Xiao Chiye held his freezing hands, tucking them under his clothes against his chest.

Shen Zechuan regulated his breathing, wrinkling Xiao Chiye's clothes in the process. Xiao Chiye's arms never loosened their grip, covering them both with the cloak as he spoke softly to Shen Zechuan from within.

Xiao Chiye asked, "Are you cold?"

Shen Zechuan buried his face in Xiao Chiye's neck and replied in a low voice, "Yes."

Xiao Chiye hugged Shen Zechuan tightly, pressing his chin against the crown of his head as he said with half-closed eyes, "You won't be cold if you get even closer."

The two of them were like young beasts relying on each other for warmth. Shen Zechuan reached out to touch Xiao Chiye's back, causing Xiao Chiye to gasp at the chill. The touch of the wolf brought Shen Zechuan a sense of security. He stroked gently, as if running his fingers through the wolf's fur.

Xiao Chiye's back muscles were well-defined, and he felt ticklish under Shen Zechuan's touch. With nowhere to hide, he could only tilt his head slightly to endure it, his waist tingling repeatedly. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he grabbed Shen Zechuan's wrist, flipped him over, and pressed Lan Zhou beneath him, his breathing deepening as he remained still.

Shen Zechuan pouted and said, "Didn't you want a hug?"

"You call that a hug?" Xiao Chiye leaned in, pressing down on him, and repeated in a whisper, "You call that a hug?"

Shen Zechuan felt that voice come from deep within his throat. Looking at Xiao Chiye, he seemed angry but dared not speak.

Xiao Chiye released Shen Zechuan's wrist and traced his way down his waist, turning Shen Zechuan's cheeks flushed with a ticklish sensation. At first, he could still endure it, but as Xiao Chiye pressed his chest against him, Shen Zechuan gradually grew moist-eyed, giggling as he panted.

Xiao Chiye adored Lan Zhou's laughter. His eyes narrowed slightly, shimmering with a captivating glow that drowned out the image of Xiao Ce'an.

Shen Zechuan laughed until his neck grew damp, his clothes sticking to his back with sweat. He felt exhausted, yet he caught his breath and welcomed Xiao Chiye's kiss. The cloak was stiflingly warm, making Shen Zechuan forget about the icy winds and snow outside.

Xiao Chiye knew that Lan Zhou didn't sleep well, but tonight, he was here.

Ambitious, he intended to fill Lan Zhou's dreams from this point on.