UCTOOT CH106

In the vast lands of the eighth month, willows swayed gently. The carriage sped forward, Shi Shu riding inside, hopping down to look around whenever they stopped.

“Out of water? I’ll go fetch some.” Shi Shu stepped down from the carriage, greeted by the sight of an open grassland.

The frontier horses were of exceptional stock. The territories they traversed were ethnically mixed. The grass was withered and bleak, horses nibbling at the roots, while Min commoners sat by their doorways spinning sheep’s wool, hanging pelts of oxen and sheep, whistling shrilly in a display steeped in exotic local color.

Moving forward, figures of Dajing descent appeared as well, farming crops and vegetables, feeding chickens and ducks, planting melons and beans. Young children, yet unskilled in weaving or plowing, learned to plant melons beneath the shade of the mulberry trees.

Though grouped into respective towns and hamlets, they lived interspersed, coexisting in relative harmony.

Having fetched the water, Shi Shu returned to the carriage. Continuing ahead, they passed through other estates, said to belong to some grand lord of the Min nobility. That scenery was considerably gloomier: laborers worked bare-chested in the fields, while nearby nobles sat cooling off beneath the trees holding long whips, lashing out and spewing vile curses whenever displeasure struck.

—No different from when Shi Shu had toiled at Zhou Family Village.

Rushing onward, they pressed toward the city.

Pulling to a halt, Shi Shu said, “We’re here, we’re here! A whole day on the road!”

Dripping with sweat, he parted the greasy, soiled curtain to reveal a remote little border town, with a few tables set inside an eatery.

While Xin Bin went to secure lodgings, Xie Wuchi and Shi Shu stepped through the door together. At the center of the table stood a roasting grill flanked by serving platters. Before long, another contingent of disguised guards took up lodging in the small town—some lingering indoors, others stringing hammocks out on the open grassland, each party feigning ignorance of the other.

Shi Shu understood that throughout this journey, it was entirely Xie Wuchi’s meticulous arrangements that kept everything secure.

Shi Shu: “Xie Wuchi, thanks to you, what should have been terrifying and perilous has turned into an exotic vacation.”

Leaning against an intricately embroidered felt rug, Xie Wuchi lowered his eyes, his energy subdued. A moment later, the host brought over milk tea and took their order. Alongside roast meat, griddled flatbreads, rice cakes, and stewed mushrooms, there were numerous Dajing dishes as well.

“Take a sip.” Shi Shu sampled the milk tea, which had grass seeds stirred in, yielding a thick, robust flavor. “Xie Wuchi, I feel like I just took a punch from this milk tea—the raw, milky gaminess is so strong.”

Shi Shu held out the bowl: “Is this cow’s milk or goat’s milk?”

Xie Wuchi: “I’d rather drink human milk.”

“…”

Shi Shu stared at him: “Wait, what’s wrong with you?” Perhaps due to persistent inflammation, Xie Wuchi’s complexion remained lackluster, making no move even after hearing Shi Shu speak.

Knowing that when Xie Wuchi was in a foul mood he needed coaxing, Shi Shu held the bowl out again: “Take a sip, try it. We might never come back here again.”

Xie Wuchi: “In the future, I will appoint a dedicated Milk Tea Commissioner to deliver it straight to the imperial court for you.”

“For real? Gege, you’re spoiling me too much,” Shi Shu teased with a grin.

Xie Wuchi looked up, his eyes cool: “Do not use the tone you use in your boys’ dorm on me.”

“…You saw right through that?”

Holding the bowl, Shi Shu said, “Do me the honor of taking a sip, please?”

Xie Wuchi leaned in and took a sip of the milk tea. Smiling as he watched his face, Shi Shu couldn’t help recalling the events of the previous night. Xie Wuchi—this quintessential alpha male, broad-shouldered and long-legged with aristocratic pride, radiating palpable texture and sensual tension, devoid of any softened compromise.

[Censored]

Deriving pleasure through kissing, touching, and embracing to build intimacy was a right shared by all. Sexuality was nearly instinctual to humanity, and many distorted psychiatric afflictions were rooted in psychosexual dynamics, even if some people lacked awareness of it.

Even long before last night, Xie Wuchi had initiated hugs and kisses without crossing boundaries. Their lines had always remained intact.

Yet after their reunion, Shi Shu taking the initiative had led to numerous instances of non-penetrative intimacy, though none had escalated to this degree.

[Censored]

However, for certain psychologically warped individuals, performative humiliation, total dominance over a partner, and asserting possessive control served as psychological stimuli.

For the other party, however, it was hard to say. Looking at it this way, perhaps in the past, Xie Wuchi had sensed little reciprocal love, and so had refrained from acting recklessly.

Yet last night, it had happened, carrying Xie Wuchi’s uncompromising dominance.

[Censored]

Xie Wuchi had received a very progressive sex education and held open views; someone like him demanded much, burned with heavy desires, and had a vast repertoire of kinks. At the same time, due to prolonged sexual suppression and psychological distortion, his eccentricity was on a completely different scale.

At the very least, Shi Shu felt a person ought to harbor a shred of shame, even if just putting on a show of it on the surface.

Yet Xie Wuchi in bed, before Shi Shu, showed virtually no pretense—maximizing physical and sensory stimulation within safe bounds without harming Shi Shu, fanning the flames with words, body, and raw emotion.

The moment Shi Shu remembered Xie Wuchi in bed, his blood burned furiously, his head spinning.

Good lord above, is this even a normal man?

What’s so great about guys anyway? Why was it that when other guys, like his dorm mates, slung an arm around his shoulder, Shi Shu felt nothing at all, numb as a log—yet every inch of Xie Wuchi’s skin, voice, and scent practically reeked of overwhelming virility?

This is a man? What kind of spell was cast on him?

“…………”

As Shi Shu drifted off, Xie Wuchi asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Shi Shu looked away: “Uh… ah, eating! This dish looks pretty handsome.”

“…”

Flustered, Shi Shu cleared his head and focused on eating.

Before long, the dishes arrived. To avoid drawing undue attention, they had ordered mutton ribs like ordinary travelers. Beside it were steamed cakes made from mixed grains, of which Shi Shu ate several bites.

Suddenly, the door curtain was pulled aside. A group speaking the Min tongue entered, their sheep bells chiming crisply—local noble scions from the Min region, strutting brazenly inside with curved scimitars at their waists.

Clearly far more at ease, laughing boisterously, several of them gathered around a table, shouting, “Order the food, order!”

Shi Shu watched them secretly: These spoiled young masters are no different from the ones in our Dajing.

Some wore traditional Min attire, yet blended with Han-style robes, tunics, and crane cloaks of refined elegance. Many of the entertainers bantering alongside these Beimin scions bore Dajing faces. They spoke in a mix of both languages, most of which Shi Shu could understand.

“Brothers, let’s have some stewed sheep’s head! The meat has long been braised tender, the lips are the softest—sprinkle on the spicy dipping seasoning!”

“This blade is smoothest for carving meat; thick, tender cuts! Come, come, come.”

Alongside sheep heads, they ate ox heads as well; it seemed to be a recent festival, as a massive yellow ox head was set onto the roasting rack.

Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi’s appearances were simply too striking. The other group glanced over every few moments, laughing among themselves with suggestive undertones in their words.

Someone called out loudly on purpose: “Young Master, those two handsome guests over there look unfamiliar. Could they be travelers from afar? Shall we invite them to share a drink?”

“Here? Wouldn’t that be too forward?”

“Pretending to be polite.” Shi Shu glanced at the rather slender, refined-looking Min noble scion. “He couldn’t have his eye on you, could he? Decent taste, at least.”

Xie Wuchi said expressionlessly, “I am finished.”

“Let’s go, let’s go. Don’t pay them any mind.”

The two stepped outside together. Tonight, they needed to leave this modest town. Travelers were frequent along this road, and further ahead, quite a few gathered together, finding a cluster of shelters erected by previous travelers and lighting bonfires to fend off wolves.

Among them were genuine wayfarers, as well as Xie Wuchi’s disguised guards.

Night fell across a desolate, withered wilderness, where weathered, rounded boulders formed ridges sparse with low shrubs. Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi sat before the campfire, Shi Shu lifting his trouser hem to inspect the wound once more. Xin Bin handed over a small pot with anti-inflammatory herbs brewing inside, stoking the fire with dry wood.

Pondering, Shi Shu said, “When Zhang Qian journeyed to the Western Regions, did he live like this?”

Xie Wuchi said, “Mm. For a singular mission, enduring hardship for thirteen years along endless roads to bridge the knowledge and civilizations of two realms. Almost no one wishes to suffer; craving an easy, comfortable life is an instinct as well. Yet there are always those who walk the path of ascetic endurance—I will seek high and low in my pursuit.“

Shi Shu: “Truly remarkable.”

Seeing the pot boil, Shi Shu poured out the decoction, blew on it until it cooled, and handed it to Xie Wuchi. In the dark night, the brew gave off a potent, bitter scent. Shi Shu reached into his pouch and drew out a small bag of rock sugar, ready to offer it if Xie Wuchi needed it.

In the dead of night, feeling the prairie wind on his face, Shi Shu imagined himself as one of those cool, brooding men in leather belts from a rugged billboard ad.

Except he wasn’t. Packs of wolves roamed the plains at night. Xin Bin stood vigil on high ground, eyes sharp as a hawk against the wolves, fitting the image far better.

Waiting until Xie Wuchi fell asleep, Shi Shu rose and went over to him: “I want to stand guard too.”

Xin Bin couldn’t help a grin: “Second Young Master, go to sleep.”

Shi Shu wasn’t pleased. Standing on the ridge, he watched the wolves prowling in the distance, made a round of patrol, and returned to the shelters. Coming to Xie Wuchi’s side, he tucked in the edges of the quilt, gazing at Xie Wuchi’s face in the dim light.

Shi Shu reached out, gently caressing his cheek. He had only intended to stare at him secretly, but Xie Wuchi lifted his eyelids, their eyes meeting.

In the cramped corner, others slept in their clothes. Shi Shu whispered, “Just checking on you. I went to look at the wolves just now—there are tons of them. I’ll sleep lightly tonight; if anything happens, I’ll get right up.”

Xie Wuchi reached out, took his hand, and planted a gentle kiss against his fingertips.

Energized as if injected with adrenaline, Shi Shu thought: Say no more, I’m standing guard all night.

The next morning, they mounted the horses and pressed on.

After three consecutive days, a boundless, deep-green mountain range finally materialized before their eyes—forming an immense natural chasm that seemed to cleave heaven and earth asunder. Rushing torrents surged with majestic power within, clouds by morning, rain by dusk, lightning splintered across the peaks. Dense forests that blotted out the sun breathed misty vapor; suspension bridges and scaling ladders were visible in the deep mountains—truly the supernatural craftsmanship of nature.

Detachment after detachment marched past the foot of the mountains, drenched in damp mist. Sticking his head out of the carriage window, Shi Shu was utterly captivated, seized by a grandeur beyond words.

Dongping Ridge.

Carving triumph atop Mount Langjuxu.

Shi Shu stepped down from the carriage. At the base of the mountains lay weathered cliff carvings. Upon this natural monument, a grand range spanning multiple prefectures, Dajing characters had once been chiseled to record the peerless glory of dynastic conquest. Yet they had been scraped away, replaced by the script of the Min.

Shi Shu studied the carvings; they had once borne the name of Dajing’s Dynastic Founder.

Behind him, Xie Wuchi stepped down from the carriage, his robes brushing over the verdant grass as he looked toward the colossal stone cliff.

All under heaven belongs to the king;

To the ends of the earth, all are the king’s subjects.

His expression deep in thought, sweeping the endless peaks into his gaze, Xie Wuchi said, “I like this mountain.”

Shi Shu turned his head to look at him.

In Xie Wuchi’s eyes, that chilling ambition—the feverish, possessive drive to conquer all mountains and rivers—surfaced once more as he murmured:

“Writing a name upon this stone would look magnificent.”