UCTOOT CH103

Late into the night, the lingering summer heat showed no sign of abating.

This was Shi Shu’s first night in enemy territory.

Shi Shu slept fitfully, jolting awake from time to time, instinctively glancing out the barred doors and windows. Along the winding trails through the graveyard, wisps of mist rose, phosphorescent ghost-lights drifting in the air, without any sign of human activity.

Only a deathly stillness hung over the place, yet that was still far better than the footsteps of an enemy patrol.

Wild beasts roamed frequently, accompanied by the occasional distant bark of a dog—mournful, desolate, and bleak.

Shi Shu could barely sleep. Turning his head, Xie Wuchi had remained by his side the entire time. His eyes were closed, his defined features carrying a trace of aloofness. Grounded in his convictions, he feared neither ghosts nor gods, unaffected by psychological suggestions from any eerie surroundings—formidable to a degree that was almost terrifying.

Amid this muggy restlessness, Shi Shu slept with an uneasy mind. The next morning, around six or seven, he woke up fully.

“Time to set off, time to set off! We’ve got another whole day of walking ahead.” Washing his face, Shi Shu said, “I need to hurry to the foot of the mountain to rendezvous with them.”

Packing the clothes and tying the bundle, Xie Wuchi said, “Ahead lies Prince Zhou Ridge, where a Min garrison is stationed. I will see you past it; after that, simply keep following the path along the river.”

Shi Shu: “You’re still seeing me off? Any further and you’ll have escorted me all the way home.”

“The destination is still far.”

Shi Shu picked up the dagger and strapped it to his thigh. This dagger was a constant reminder of the impure motives that had started his romantic relationship with Xie Wuchi. Up to now, the system’s test was like a demon coaxing malice out of the human heart.

The moment Shi Shu looked at this dagger, his thoughts churned in chaotic disarray, growing rather heavy.

Along the way, green mountains and emerald waters basked beneath the scorching sun.

Xie Wuchi lowered his gaze, his hems brushing past wild grass. Though dressed in simple attire, his figure remained dignified and aristocratic. He cautioned once more: “The objective of your journey is merely to demonstrate an attitude. Up to this point, we have not established ties with the friendlier factions within the Min region: first, because our generals disdained dealing with the Min army; second, because we lacked the channels to contact key figures on the other side.”

Sweat clung damply to Shi Shu’s fair forehead as he glanced left and right: “Yeah, yeah.”

“The Min army has not been put on guard, so there won’t be large-scale encirclements or manhunts. Don’t be afraid. There are no surveillance cameras here either; lighten your psychological burden, lest your spirit crumble under the weight.”

Shi Shu: “I really am nervous right now.”

Shifting his dark pupils, Xie Wuchi said, “If the worst-case scenario occurs, units in the villages and towns have the greatest mobility, but their numbers won’t be large. If you encounter danger, just run. Run into some deep, secluded mountain forest and hide.”

Shi Shu managed a grin, flashing his neat white teeth: “I’m a special forces soldier. Welcome to PUBG’s Battlegrounds.”

“Still in the mood to joke?”

Xie Wuchi squeezed his hand with measured firmness: “In short: run. You are best at running. As long as you keep running forward, there is hope.”

Wiping sweat, Shi Shu nodded, committing every word of Xie Wuchi to heart. At this moment, they were walking along a main road. Detachments of cavalry galloped past in waves, growing increasingly frequent, with sentry checkpoints tighter than before.

“Are we nearing the garrison?”

Whenever subjected to inspection, Shi Shu presented the invitation and travel pass for them to review.

Before long, they arrived at a checkpoint. After inspecting the travel pass, one Min soldier furrowed his brow, about to say something: “I say, you two—”

He was clapped on the shoulder by the comrade beside him, who chuckled, “Drop it, drop it. Let’s go grab a drink; why stick your nose into so much?”

“Alas…”

Shi Shu wondered: “What was that about?”

A few baffled civilians nearby, anxious to reach their destination before dark, hoisted their luggage and hurried forward. Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi stepped onto the path, descending into a steep, rugged mountain pass.

Dwellings dotted the road occasionally, yet though it was evening, no cooking smoke rose from the eaves. Every household kept their doors tightly barred; not a soul was in sight, resembling a realm of the dead. Dense woods cast eerie, phantom shadows. Stepping over the rocks, Shi Shu looked left and right when, suddenly, a chorus of ghostly shrieks and wolfish howls pierced the air.

Shi Shu’s attention was snapped toward the sound.

It was excruciatingly shrill, like fingernails scraping across glass. The fallen leaves beneath Shi Shu’s feet suddenly shifted, and a snare snapped tight, looping around his calf.

“What the—?!”

It happened in a flash. Shi Shu drew the dagger and slashed the rope apart. Looking up, heads poked out from the crests of the slopes, laughing raucously: “These two look like fat sheep, like young masters from wealthy estates. We can finally make some coin!”

“Bandits.”

Hearing Xie Wuchi’s words, Shi Shu jolted in shock. Turning his head, a thick stench of blood hit his nostrils—several corpses hung upside down among the trees, identical to the gruesome horrors he had witnessed back at Dabai Ridge. Ruling the mountains as outlaws, slaying travelers to plunder their goods.

Shi Shu’s heart leaped into his throat. He looked around for stones and sturdy branches. Several men leaped down brandishing blades, swinging broadswords in flashes of silver steel, hacking straight down. Xie Wuchi clamped his hand around an attacker’s wrist and twisted hard—crack!—the sickening snap of fractured bone rang out as he wrenched the blade into his own grip.

“Mutinous Min soldiers, running bandit rackets here.”

The scene turned intensely volatile in an instant. Shi Shu had faced danger before, but never a situation where attackers rushed in with such frantic, lethal urgency. Another blade slashed toward him. The attacker beside him swung again, aiming straight for vital points. Grabbing a fallen blade, Shi Shu lunged forward, his wrist trembling. The split-second crisis left virtually no time for thought, only the instinct to swing steel.

Severed hands and weapons tumbled into the tall grass. Xie Wuchi cut down and wounded several, while Shi Shu provided cover, drawing bandits away. Suddenly, with a loud clang!, a staggering blow jarred the weapon clean out of Shi Shu’s grip.

Losing his footing, Shi Shu crashed to the ground, and a burly hand reached out to clamp violently around his throat. Fumbling for his dagger, Shi Shu slashed across the man’s flesh. Blood sprayed, and the bandit cursed viciously—”Fuck!”—choking him down with even more lethal force.

Coughing, his vision blurred with sweat, Shi Shu saw Xie Wuchi forcing the others back, advancing toward him. Shi Shu drove the dagger in twice more, then threw it with all his might into the distance before it could be snatched away. Breaking free of the man’s grip, a heavy kick sent him tumbling down the side.

Below lay a slope several meters high, overgrown with spiny thorns—

The man’s bloody hand reached after him. Seeing Xie Wuchi strike the attacker down, Shi Shu let out a breath, but just as he was about to tumble over the edge, a shadow swept over him from behind.

Shi Shu was pulled securely into his arms, rolling down the slope together. The world spun in dizzying circles, Shi Shu’s hands pinned close until he and Xie Wuchi tumbled into a blanket of fallen leaves, smelling the sharp fragrance of crushed greenery.

The setting sun dipped low, Shi Shu’s eyes reflecting the vicious thorns of the bushes, beaded with drops of blood. Xie Wuchi reached out to pull him up. Blood soaked through the back of his clothing, his robes shredded. Cold sweat beaded on Xie Wuchi’s brow as he struggled to push himself upright.

On the ground lay a rock, its sharp corner smeared with blood. Shi Shu’s pupils dilated: “Xie Wuchi!”

Not even encountering bandits had chilled him so thoroughly, as if plunging into an ice cellar. Shi Shu looked down to inspect the damage, clutching Xie Wuchi’s hand with white knuckles.

Shi Shu: “You didn’t need to jump down with me…”

Several bandits were scrambling in the dirt above, or cradling the bodies of their comrades. With bloodstained fingers, Xie Wuchi picked up the bundle, took Shi Shu’s hand, and hobbled forward with unsteady steps: “Go. We cannot linger here.”

Shi Shu: “Is your leg alright? You’re injured.”

“Do not panic. There is a stream at the foot of the mountain; we will wash it up ahead. I brought several vials of Lin Yangchun’s wound medicine.”

Shi Shu: “But, Xie Wuchi…”

A shock of cold panic gripped his chest, leaving him at a loss for words: “You didn’t need to shield me; I could take it—”

Xie Wuchi: “I know.”

Xie Wuchi seemed to have weighed everything. Though his footing was somewhat unsteady, he could gauge the extent of the wound: “Just superficial cuts, though taking a blow to the bone aches a bit. Bandits, Min soldiers… this road holds far too many hazards. I am coming with you into the Min region. Before leaving, I gave Lin Yan and the others detailed instructions and arranged appointments. This trip will take about twenty days; we will simply return early.”

Shi Shu gripped him back tightly: “Ge!”

Xie Wuchi’s dark eyes were cool, gazing at him without blinking: “With me here, you will suffer less fright and dread. Leaving you to camp alone in the wild at night, weathering wind and rain—I could not bear it. This road is no different from the roads you walked with me in the past. And in the future, we will walk even further together.”

“Xie Wuchi…”

Shi Shu’s eyes grew wet. Stumbling along the mountain trail as twilight surrendered to darkness, that terrifying gloom descended once more, yet the hand he held was so warm.

“Stay with me. Do not be afraid.”

His hair disheveled, Shi Shu yielded his entire palm into his grasp, walking down to the foot of the mountain together. Darkness had completely fallen, but the moon had risen early over the mountain peaks, casting clear, bright light across the earth.

Across this vast, unfamiliar road, only the two of them walked in close step.

Beside a pool of gathered water, the stream gurgled and splashed. Xie Wuchi stripped off his tunic. Beneath the moonlight, a dense lattice of fine scratches covered his back, flecks of blood standing out against the broad, flawless expanse of his shoulders, carrying an untamed, battle-worn beauty. Shi Shu applied ointment to his wounds, crouching beside the pool to inspect the injury on his knee.

Xie Wuchi’s left leg had taken a gash from the rock, blood steadily welling out. Shi Shu took out antiseptic medicine and gauze, binding his leg tight.

“With your injury, instead of going back to rest, can you really accompany me?”

“The wound is not severe. Besides, once we reach Mount Meng, it will be civilian settlements. We can take things easier without needing to sleep rough in the wild. The guards dispatched days ago are already waiting; they can make arrangements.”

Shi Shu held his hand: “Does it hurt?”

Xie Wuchi: “Shi Shu, you feel pain too.”

A jolt struck Shi Shu’s heart.

With a clang, that dagger tumbled out once more. Looking at it, a flood of memories surfaced in Shi Shu’s mind.

Handing the dagger back to him, Xie Wuchi turned around, his mind already returning to official matters: “We don’t know where Xin Bin and the others are yet; we likely won’t rendezvous at the foot of Mount Meng until tomorrow. Tonight, we rest first.”

Xie Wuchi’s gait wasn’t noticeably impaired, though striking bone evidently ached fiercely.

One after the other, Shi Shu and Xie Wuchi followed the river searching for lodgings, avoiding being spotted by night patrols and arousing suspicion.

The moonlight draped everything in soft, pale shadows, blurring their vision. Scenes of memory overlapped repeatedly in Shi Shu’s mind as his steps staggered. At Baima Post, at Taohua Post. Walking with Du Zihan, Shi Shu had practically been the one encouraging him, the two bumping along together, laughing and wailing by turns.

Yet walking beside Xie Wuchi, he had always been shielded behind him.

That summer night back at Liushui Nunnery, exhausted all over, slumped across his back as Xie Wuchi carried him forward, peach blossom leaves brushing cool against his face.

“Xie Wuchi—you stuck your tongue in! You’re a beast! I’m gonna bite you to death!”

“You’ve pissed me off so much my wounds are tearing open…”

“…”

Inside Taohua Post, on a narrow, cramped cot, Shi Shu gathered into his embrace, his nose catching the warm scent of his breath. Fearing ghosts as he did, wanting neither the window nor the door, it had been that very embrace that quieted his heart.

“Xie Wuchi…”

Back in Shukang Prefecture, you once promised to grant me one condition, yet even now you have never named what it was. He remembered only that storm-tossed night, wracked with agony, suddenly pinning Shi Shu down in a chaotic, feverish kiss, eyes reddened, fires of desire rippling boundlessly within.

“Xie Wuchi.”

On countless nights, Shi Shu had held him praying he would wake up; and along the road of exile, lingering in that small snow-covered courtyard in winter, Shi Shu lighting firecrackers at the door, grinning at him in youthful radiance.

“Xie Wuchi! Drink some mutton soup, and the stewed radishes too.”

“Eat some hawthorn berries as well; you’re lacking vitamins.”

Xie Wuchi.

Countless echoing voices converged in his ears—Xie Wuchi, Xie Wuchi. Shi Shu’s heart hung suspended in midair, like a taut thread that finally snapped with a shattering crash.

Gripping the dagger, Shi Shu suddenly wound back his arm and hurled it hard—splash!—flinging the blade far out into the river.

The water swirled, the dagger sinking into the depths until it vanished completely.

Going home… going home… Were we not family back then?

The damp sweat on Shi Shu’s palm was dried by the breeze. Hearing the splash, Xie Wuchi turned around, but Shi Shu was already jogging up to him: “The market at the foot of Mount Meng is close now. Let’s buy another one at the bazaar for self-defense, okay?”

Xie Wuchi: “Alright.”

“Xie Wuchi, are you tired?” Shi Shu circled around him, his heart knotting into a tight, aching point: “My heart hurts so much for you.”

They made their way into the woodshed of an abandoned homestead. Because of the bandits, the affluent households here had been raided, fleeing elsewhere to escape calamity. Shi Shu pulled out steamed buns, water, and a cloth from his pack: “Xie Wuchi, sit down. Leave the rest to me.”

In the pitch-black room, hiding together in the shed, Shi Shu tore a soft bun in half and handed it to him, feeding Xie Wuchi water.

Wherever war touched, both sides suffered broken livelihoods. Shi Shu drew water from the courtyard. Seeing Xie Wuchi eating quietly, he reached out to unfasten his robes: “Rest properly. I’ll wash the blood off your clothes.”

Lowering his head, Xie Wuchi took a sip from the canteen.

Shi Shu looked at him: “Though the cuts on your leg aren’t deep—just flesh wounds—you’re the type who rarely falls ill, but gets infected very easily when you do.”

Much like Xie Wuchi’s emotions.

A rose struggled to bloom in a wasteland, but once it did, it would drain every drop of nourishment from the entire planet.

“Be careful. Once it heals properly, you’ll be fine.”

Xie Wuchi remained serene. Shi Shu pressed his knees against the soft pile of straw, stripping off his tunic to reveal broad shoulders, using the damp cloth to wipe away sweat and shallow scratches.

Watching the rise and fall of his chest, random thoughts drifted into Shi Shu’s mind: “Xie Wuchi, are you afraid of getting hurt?”

Xie Wuchi: “Why do you ask?”

Wiping sweat, Shi Shu simply spoke whatever crossed his mind: “I remembered a TV drama I watched back home. A wounded, strapping man arrives at a young wife’s home, strips off his shirt to reveal muscles all over, and as she sponges down his battered body, the two lock eyes and fall in love.”

Xie Wuchi gave a faint, half-teasing smile: “Locking eyes with me?”

Shi Shu: “…I used to never understand plots like that. Couldn’t wrap my head around it.”

Xie Wuchi said dryly, “Indeed. Growing up, whenever Journey to the West was on, did you only watch the monkey?”

“…” Shi Shu looked at Xie Wuchi’s collarbone, the bobbing Adam’s apple, and the line of his throat: “But I get it now.”

“Oh?”

Shi Shu: “I understand how a man of steel feels when he encounters a tender, gentle wife.”

Amused, Xie Wuchi said, “Now that you’ve become a real man, you can finally watch the things you’re supposed to.”

With a reach of Xie Wuchi’s arm, Shi Shu straddled over, sitting squarely across his thighs. Still wiping his sweat, Shi Shu traced Xie Wuchi’s brows, features, and skin inch by inch.

Long ago, Xie Wuchi’s scent, face, and body had indeed been dazzling to Shi Shu, but without sparking any real chemical reaction.

Yet now, Shi Shu’s palm gently caressed the dark arch of his brow, his handsome profile, and the sharply defined edge of his jaw. Sitting in his lap, stroking him with a touch both unfamiliar yet deeply intimate, feeling the burning heat and faint stickiness of his skin, until Xie Wuchi’s breathing frayed, his eyelashes drooping as his eyes met Shi Shu’s.

Shi Shu gazed at him. Xie Wuchi parted his thighs a bit wider, bracing his arms relaxed against the ground, saying with a faint smile: “Shi Shu, in your eyes, there is lust.”

That fire had finally ignited in his heart.

No longer the naive, bewildered innocence of boyish affection, nor the hazy, half-comprehended fantasy, but searing heat—physical desire, locked gazes, and blazing passion.

Shi Shu’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Breathing fast, clutching Xie Wuchi’s shoulders, he felt an almost desperate craving for Xie Wuchi’s scent. Leaning down to cup his jaw, the moment their lips touched, their tongues entwined instinctively.

Wet, fervent sounds of suction stirred the air. Shi Shu cradled his face, his other hand resting on Xie Wuchi’s shoulder, unconsciously rubbing his collarbone and chest until the skin flushed a deeper hue.

Shi Shu’s clothing was stripped away, baring fair, slender shoulders and a lean waist. Pulled forward to straddle Xie Wuchi’s waist, Xie Wuchi’s scorching, vein-ridged hand roved across his back, contrasting light against dark.

Gazing at him as if entranced, for the first time Shi Shu experienced desire like being drugged in a novel—reason slipping from control, an overwhelming, near-dissociative hunger. Letting out a soft pant, he cupped his face, stroking his cheek, and leaned into a deeper, breathless kiss: “Mm…”

A moan escaped his lips unbidden.

Knowing the door was barred tight, Shi Shu feared nothing. His mouth was kissed into a sodden warmth, the searing heat and firmness of Xie Wuchi’s tongue unmistakable. Kissing him, Shi Shu’s hand drifted downward, inch by inch from Xie Wuchi’s shoulder blades along the taut, conditioned muscles of his back, tracing all the way down to his tailbone.

With every stroke, Xie Wuchi’s arousal surged. Wrapping a long hand around the nape of Shi Shu’s neck, he asked like a demon: “Do you like it?”

Shi Shu’s arms encircled him: “I like it.”

“Do I seduce you?”

Shi Shu held him tight, panting, a sticky murmur lacing his voice: “Xie Wuchi, you were always wonderful. No matter what anyone has ever said about you—whether it was me or someone else—falling in love with you is the easiest thing in the world.”

Loosening his fingers, Xie Wuchi leaned in to peck at his lips in alternating deep and shallow kisses. A thin thread of saliva escaped, sliding toward Shi Shu’s pale chin; Shi Shu licked it away.

Xie Wuchi: “You said before that you didn’t like swallowing my spit.”

“…” Shi Shu’s cheeks flared: “Normally, no one would like it. But once in a while, it’s fine.”

“Once in a while? When? Right now, while we make love?”

Shi Shu felt scorched by the term: “We are…”

Sucking on the flesh of his lip, Xie Wuchi pressed his hips forward: “We are coupling. We are sharing our flesh.”

It was desire and love pressing them flush together.

Slumped in his arms, sweat glued their skin together, damp bellies grinding. At first, Shi Shu had the energy to initiate kisses, but soon his waist melted into pliancy, his slender calves trembling as his entire frame collapsed against Xie Wuchi’s chest.

In the sultry midsummer night, cicadas and frogs chorused outside. No one would ever notice this abandoned, shadowy room in an unnamed hamlet.

With his neck arched, heat spilling from his lips, Xie Wuchi’s handsome features were steeped in passion. When his back accidentally grazed an injury, his brow furrowed faintly, suddenly driving upward with harder force, knocking the breath out of Shi Shu. Shi Shu turned his head aside, damp locks of fluffy hair clinging to his pale neck.

Shi Shu clung closer, pressed against this feverish, powerful body.

Flushed to the roots of his hair, Shi Shu tangled his fingers in his own locks, his eyes nervously watching the man beneath him. Beyond rubbing together against one another, those long fingers were probing gently at him behind.

Unable to take it, Shi Shu squeezed his eyes shut: “Xie Wuchi…”

He felt more and more that he had underestimated him. In this realm, Xie Wuchi’s stamina and appetite seemed boundless.

…

As the night deepened, two youthful silhouettes tangled together, weaving a hazy, indistinct tableau. After an unknown time, blushing furiously, Shi Shu’s nails nearly gouged fresh tracks into Xie Wuchi’s back, his teeth sinking into the firm muscle of his shoulder, until he finally collapsed limp across Xie Wuchi’s chest.

Sweat coated Shi Shu’s fair face. Xie Wuchi lowered his eyes, his voice lazy and raspy: “Still cannot take it all the way in. I’m afraid of tearing you; it will take more time.”

Having experienced it with fingers twice now, Shi Shu’s feelings were thoroughly tangled: “Why am I the one on the bottom?”

Then he reconsidered: Forget it.

Too late—he was disputing the matter far too late. Some things should have been clarified the moment they showed their first signs.

A night breeze drifted in, carrying the warm scent of sweat from both their bodies. Propping himself up, Shi Shu retrieved the cloth thrown who knew where, dampened it, and carefully wiped him down once more, taking care to avoid his wounds.