UCTOOT CH110

Xie Wuchi’s birthday drew closer with each passing day.

A continuous, fine drizzle fell without pause. Shi Shu had been idle these past few days, as the rainy weather put many tasks on hold; there was simply nothing to do.

Shi Shu’s figure frequented the kitchen. Baskets held fruits and vegetables rinsed by the rainwater, alongside cured meats. He was planning to cook a table full of rare delicacies for Xie Wuchi’s birthday.

Yet after experimenting for days, everything he turned out was unpalatable garbage. Deeply frustrated, he thought to himself that he was doomed to be forever divorced from the culinary arts in this life.

These past few days, Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi had stayed in the courtyard. When the drizzle lightened, they donned bamboo hats and stepped outside to wander, picking dew-kissed wild berries along the field ridges. After heavy rain, the river ditches swelled, washing fish right onto the banks where they could be scooped up by hand; Shi Shu had picked up a few and brought them back to keep in the water vat.

Still, he and Xie Wuchi stirred up a small ripple of curiosity: many villagers remarked that two handsome young men had taken up residence at the edge of the hamlet, and children frequently peeked through the wattle fence, even asking to take Shi Shu out to play.

These children were of both Han and Min descent. At the foot of Mount Meng, where tea merchants, mountain foragers, and hunters came and went constantly, no one found it particularly startling.

A drizzle fine as ox hair drifted down.

Carrying a bamboo basket, Shi Shu foraged for mushrooms on the hillside. After the rain, many people came up to forage for mountain goods.

Xie Wuchi held an umbrella over him as Shi Shu bent low, muttering to himself: “What kind of mushroom is this? What’s this one? And what about this?”

Trudging along with uneven footing, he encountered a fellow villager also foraging for mountain goods, who chatted casually: “How much have you picked?”

Shi Shu: “Half a basket.”

“Let me see.”

The villager came over to inspect his haul, tossing a few out: “These aren’t edible. Got lard at home? Pan-fry them in lard—the aroma is incredible! Then stew them with tofu, and the broth turns wonderfully savory!”

Shi Shu: “Is that so?”

“Aye! The whole point of mountain goods is simple freshness; piling on spices only ruins the flavor.” The villagers were quite warm, likely assuming they were staying long-term. “Why not come have a meal at my place? My wife hates field chores, but her cooking is fantastic.”

After a moment’s thought, Shi Shu said, “Ah, wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

Seeing their lukewarm response, the villager wandered off. Shi Shu lowered his head again to rummage through the grassy undergrowth.

The forest vegetation featured towering arbor trees alongside coniferous stands.

Taking out a handkerchief, Xie Wuchi dabbed at his sweat: “What is it?”

Shi Shu looked around: “It’s better not to get acquainted with them. Once the operation begins, we’ll return to Yanzhou. But any villagers who spoke with us would probably be convicted of crimes, let alone dining at their homes—lives are on the line.”

Xie Wuchi remarked, “You’ve grown clever.”

Two silhouettes walked through the fine drizzle. Carrying a pouch of unidentified wild mushrooms, Shi Shu mused, “Two more days until your birthday, right?”

Within his line of sight, Xin Bin hurried over from not far away.

“My Lords.” Xin Bin was in a rush.

Xie Wuchi: “What is it? Why running in such haste?”

Xin Bin reported, “Yuan Guan and Yuan He sent word through an intermediary: over the coming days, it is the Min’s sacred festival celebrating the birth of their deity. The city is bustling, and the chieftains of the lesser royal tribes must enter the city to peddle mountain goods and pay homage to the Great Deity Jidu. They request His Lordship to make a trip into the city to deliberate matters under the cover of the festivities.”

Xie Wuchi: “Oh?”

Shi Shu asked, only half-understanding: “Great Deity Jidu?”

Xie Wuchi explained, “The Great Deity Jidu worshipped by the Min—in Min epic poetry, a warrior born between riverbanks who, when the grasslands degraded during the ice age, charged westward to tear apart a malevolent serpent, reclaiming verdant pastures for the nomadic folk. Later, when sinful karmic fire blazed across the mountains, he cast himself into the flames, using his blood to douse the evil and restore green hills and clear waters.”

Once Xin Bin finished reporting and received Xie Wuchi’s nod, he went to deploy route security. Holding Shi Shu’s hand, Xie Wuchi continued: “In ancient human mythologies, many imagined deities reflect humanity’s yearning to conquer nature. Hou Yi shooting the suns represents helplessness before drought; Kuafu chasing the sun is the ancients’ inquiry into time and mortal existence.”

Allowing his hand to be held, Shi Shu walked back toward the courtyard alongside him.

Xie Wuchi: “The Great Deity Jidu traded his life to reclaim the grasslands, mountains, and rivers essential for the Min’s survival, which is why he became their venerated god. Praying to deities is fundamentally praying for the desires in one’s heart. And so long as humans possess desire, they can be overcome.”

Accustomed to hearing Xie Wuchi speak like this, Shi Shu asked, “Once you enter the city, how do you plan to persuade them?”

“Worshipping the gods of grassland and mountain, their material demand is singular: grasslands and mountains. If you want others to cooperate with you, you can only begin from self-interest. As for specific tactics, there are merely two kinds: open and covert.”

Contemplating his words, Shi Shu said, “You plan to grant them grasslands and mountains?”

“That is the open method: offering benefits no one else can provide, persuading them with pleasant words, playing the benevolent face. As for the covert method—playing the villain—you talk about Wu Song and Pan Jinlian every day; care to guess?”

Shi Shu: “…”

Shi Shu: “Huh?”

“The tactics of the likes of Wu Yong: slaughtering your whole clan, or holding your family’s lives hostage; or perhaps butchering the entire families of your enemies and superiors to frame you for it, cutting off all avenues of retreat and forcing you up Mount Liang in sheer desperation.”

“…”

A layer of cold sweat broke out across Shi Shu’s back. Xie Wuchi was still like this—casual remarks that made one’s spine tingle.

Moisture clung to Xie Wuchi’s dark brows. After a moment’s contemplation, he said, “I will make a trip into the city to see the current disposition of King Zhouchi’s clan. If we cannot lure them with profit, we must ensnare them by stratagem.”

Calling Xie Wuchi Mara was by no means an exaggeration; wherever he went, families were bound to be shattered and ruined.

In the courtyard, Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi stepped inside. Having completed deployments, Xin Bin dispatched other elite guards, who were already waiting.

Bringing out the anti-inflammatory decoction and ointment, Shi Shu said, “Drink some first; the wound on your leg hasn’t healed yet.”

Downing the medicine, Xie Wuchi said, “You don’t need to come. I will return shortly.”

Shi Shu: “Alright then, I’ll wait for you.”

Pressed for time and having conferred, Xin Bin placed a bamboo rain hat over Xie Wuchi. Disguised, their figures departed into the mountains.

At this moment, Shi Shu felt an eerie sense that Xie Wuchi was essentially saying, “I’m going to kill someone; you stay hidden for now.” After he left, another elite guard remained inside the room, providing close protection for Shi Shu’s safety.

As the commanding general, Xie Wuchi’s identity was of utmost importance. Even if Yuan Guan knew who he was, during formal meetings, Xie Wuchi’s true identity would remain concealed, with Shi Shu continuing to serve as the public face.

A thought suddenly struck Shi Shu: Wait, I need to enter the city too! It’s Xie Wuchi’s birthday; perfect timing to buy him a present.

Yet the man was already far in the distance. Shi Shu hesitated over whether to chase after him, but after weighing it, decided to wait a little longer.

Abruptly parted from Xie Wuchi once more—even if not for long—they were in the Min region, after all.

Inexplicably, the moment Xie Wuchi left, an ache of loneliness welled in his heart. The other guard was already bustling about, helping with cooking and washing. Shi Shu quickly interjected: “No need, I can do it myself.”

As twilight deepened, the sense of loneliness grew all the more acute.

The guard rested in the front room, exceptionally professional, maintaining a cold, silent demeanor. After dinner, Shi Shu stepped into the empty wing room. For the past several days, he had stayed in this spartan little dwelling alongside Xie Wuchi; now, only he remained.

Shi Shu thought: Alright, sleep first; he’ll be back tomorrow.

Lying down on the bed, his familiar scent lingered there too. He seemed to suddenly understand how Xie Wuchi must have felt after he had left back then.

Truly unable to sleep, Shi Shu had no choice but to get up and light an oil lamp by the hearth.

After hesitating for a long time, he finally asked the guard: “Brother, do you know how to knead dough?”

Beneath the dim yellow lamplight, Shi Shu mixed, kneaded, rolled, and sliced dough. After studying for two whole hours, it still turned out poorly—the noodles were unevenly cut, and the rolled dough was lumpy.

In the quiet summer night, not wanting to waste the noodles, he had no choice but to boil a pot and share it with the guard.

Cradling his bowl and slurping noodles, after just a few bites, he felt as though his life was over.

He missed Xie Wuchi.

The man had been gone for barely half a day, yet missing him made his chest ache with a dull throb.

Shi Shu: TvT.

Lowering his head in deep inner silence, he sped up his eating.

The guard said, “My Lord, slow down; it’s very hot.”

Shi Shu: “If I finish early, I can sleep early, and pick him up tomorrow.”

Shi Shu ate a bowl, and the guard downed a large portion as well. Fortunately, being young with good digestion, neither felt overly bloated.

That night, lying on the couch, Shi Shu remained sleepless for a long time, repeatedly confirming the reality that he was in love with Xie Wuchi. An unfamiliar, alien sensation had grown remarkably lucid and certain.

A straight guy, halfway through his life, reduced to being another man’s puppy.

If he told Zihan, who knew what his reaction would be?

Clutching the quilt, restlessness made him want to throw a round of shadowboxing punches on the bed. Finally, after an unknown stretch of time, he fell asleep. The next morning was brilliantly clear. The moment sunlight hit the room, Shi Shu was already up and washing.

Just as he was about to head out, the village child returned, cradling a bouquet of freshly picked morning flowers. Not wanting the villagers to be implicated on charges of colluding with the enemy after they departed, Shi Shu forced himself to ignore him, watching the child lay the flowers upon the threshold.

Shi Shu apologized silently in his heart: It’s not that big brother doesn’t want to play with you. The situation right now is delicate. Once we become one family in the future, I’ll chat with you then.

Dressed and ready, Shi Shu walked toward the city.

Having followed behind for a while, the guard asked, “Second Young Master is rushing so swiftly—is there an urgent matter?”

“…” Shi Shu: “Am I running?”

Shi Shu suddenly recalled that long ago, when Xie Wuchi had toured the realm for the New Policies and returned after three months, Shi Shu had washed his hair in a frenzy and bolted to the post station to find him—it had been like that every single time.

Shi Shu felt slightly embarrassed, but didn’t slow his stride.

Before him rose the gate towers of Yuan County in Yong’an Prefecture, immersed in the exuberant festivities of the Deity’s Nativity. Many Min performed three kneelings and nine kowtows, prostrating all the way toward the city gates. Inside the city lay the fire sacrifices of the Great Deity Jidu, organized by the grand nobility of King Zhouchi’s clan. Whenever the deity’s nativity arrived, they fasted in the temple, invited companions, and admired rare treasures and exotic plants. It was also the liveliest season for the bazaar: stalls peddling mountain goods, street performers shattering boulders on their chests, pastries and roast meats, fluttering ribbons, shamans divining fortunes, couples touring on dates, deity statues paraded in procession, masked phantoms roving, dancing around bonfires at night—wonders of every kind.

Many remote tribes journeyed into the city at this time, an annual occasion to peddle pelts, animal teeth, spices, tea, cheese, and other wares, known as the “Ten-Day Market of the Deity’s Nativity.”

Two days from now, sharing the exact date of this deity’s birth, was Xie Wuchi’s birthday.

Shi Shu had originally meant to meet Xie Wuchi to return home together, but somehow had walked all the way into the city.

Someone had already gone ahead to report, returning to say: “Second Young Master, His Lordship is currently having morning tea at the Nativity Temple bazaar. Shall we head over now?”