UCTOOT CH108

Deep in the night of the Min territory, cicadas and frogs chorused from the brush, punctuated by the scuttling of unnamed wild creatures. Stripped of their former safety within Dajing, an omnipresent sense of peril hung in the air, as though blazing torches might suddenly surround them at any moment, forcing a desperate midnight flight.

Inside the room, Shi Shu was buried entirely between his thighs, sensing a peculiar aura radiating from Xie Wuchi. Wherever he was present, the atmosphere was inevitably suffocating; everyone walked on eggshells, reading his countenance and trying to divine his mood, while he merely sat there in silence. And once he departed, the oppression didn’t dissipate—it merely transformed into cold terror.

Shi Shu panted: “Xie Wuchi…”

Shi Shu’s hair was gripped tight in that large hand, mirroring the exact imagery of past nightmares. Looking up, he could only see the man’s naturally aloof jawline, sensing two distinct, forceful thrusts. In an instant, scalding heat splattered across his face and lips. Shi Shu closed his eyes, that searing warmth lingering on his skin until his consciousness cleared completely.

As if drained of all strength, Shi Shu’s spine went limp as he rested his head on Xie’s knees, mere inches from the tattooed totem, gazing closely at every etched stroke and the crisscrossing textured scars.

…

Morning arrived, stark white sunlight filtering through the window lattice into the chamber, dust motes dancing in the glare.

Shi Shu snapped his eyes open. The moment he realized where they were, he leaped out of bed. Reaching the threshold, his footsteps halted.

In the clean, sunlit courtyard, draped in moon-white robes, Xie Wuchi sat in a bamboo chair holding a book in one hand. The early morning sun was mild and comfortable, falling gently across his frame, while the lush foliage of the gourd trellis beside him shielded his eyes from the direct glare.

How long has Xie Wuchi been up? Why do I wake up later than him every single time? Reading the second he wakes up—what kind of god-tier freak is he?

Just as Shi Shu was pondering this, Xin Bin came walking across the field ridges carrying hampers on a shoulder pole. He set down half a load of books and half a load of firewood, rice, oil, salt, and mosquito-repelling herbs.

Shi Shu thought: And when did Xin Bin get up?! He’s already made a whole trip to the market!

Working with deft hands and feet, Xin Bin reported, “My Lord, this half-crate contains the most popular books in Yong’an Prefecture—agriculture, military strategy, current political commentaries, policy treatises, writing supplies, and local gazetteers on folk customs and bizarre tales. This servant went to the prefecture’s largest bazaar to procure them.”

“And this hamper holds local delicacies and novel treats, bought for the Second Young Master.”

Beaming, Shi Shu stepped out into the sunlight, his dark eyes sparkling and his fair face radiant: “Brother Xin, busy morning, huh?”

Nearby, guards delivered fresh garments and supplies. Xie Wuchi set his book down on the small table beside him: “Have the agents from the Qingguang Office arrived? Have all contacts been established?”

The Qingguang Office was a secret intelligence bureau Xie Wuchi had formed, dedicated to espionage and intelligence gathering—distinct from ordinary military scouts.

“Contact has been established. They are stationed across the domains of Beimin’s Five Great Kings and are currently dispatching encrypted letters.”

Xie Wuchi: “They were dispatched to roam Beimin long ago to survey bridges, outposts, mountain ranges, and fortifications. It is about time they reported back.”

Flipping open a volume, Xie Wuchi instructed, “Head into the mountains and fell a few stalks of water bamboo, at least fifteen feet tall.”

Though puzzled, Xin Bin answered, “Yes.”

Sitting down nearby, Shi Shu asked, “What are you chopping bamboo for?”

“Taking a walk by the river.” Putting down his book, Xie Wuchi stood up: “Catching some river delicacies to cook for you.”

Xin Bin was secretly astonished. Though skilled in martial arts and iron-hearted by nature, he harbored only reverence and terror toward General Commander Xie. His life, wealth, status, and power were all tied to Xie Wuchi alone. Even though trusted enough to speak freely on occasion, he had always maintained strict deference. As his confidant, he knew better than anyone what kind of man Commander Xie truly was:

A quintessential despot: placid on the surface, yet harboring bottomless depths of cunning, ruthless in execution, calculating every scheme to perfection.

A bodhisattva’s countenance, a demon king’s heart.

Following him for nearly two years, only toward this biological younger brother had he ever seen him act like this.

Wait, not a biological brother…

Xin Bin had long heard that certain aristocrats harbored warped family dynamics, though naturally, it was not his place to speculate.

Shi Shu’s gaze lingered on the books Xie Wuchi had been reading: “Why do you have so many books to read?”

Xie Wuchi: “Read more. Vast amounts of information and systemic rules are recorded in books. Even if not exhaustive, they provide a framework, allowing one to respond adeptly and avoid deception. Reading is good; it allows one to see a wider world.”

Shi Shu: “I can’t read all that. All I know how to do is run.”

Seeing Xin Bin head off to chop bamboo, Shi Shu piped up, “I’m coming too.”

Xin Bin hesitated: “Second Young Master…” He glanced at Xie Wuchi’s expression.

Xie Wuchi never held him back: “Let’s go together.”

“My Lord is coming as well?” Xin Bin’s workplace stress surged once more: “Yes.”

In the desolate hamlet, cobwebs hung among the leaves. Brushing past wild grass and flowers, the three walked along the ridges of the overgrown fields. This mountain nurtured virtually everything; looking closely at the soil, Shi Shu frequently spotted mushrooms hiding beneath withered leaves. It was said that walking just a bit further led to an entirely different microclimate and vegetation, which promised to be fascinating.

Having chopped the bamboo, Xin Bin hoisted it onto his shoulder for the return walk. Shi Shu suddenly spotted a tall plum tree standing by the field, likely wild. He asked, “Do you guys want to try some?”

Xin Bin: “The Second Young Master wants some? One moment, this general will pick them at once.”

“No need, no need,” Shi Shu said.

Xin Bin merely blinked, only to see their Second Young Master measure the trunk, scramble up, and dart straight into the dense canopy within seconds. Snapping off branches laden with wild plums, he tossed them down: “Eat, eat! Want more? Where are the biggest ones?”

Xin Bin: “…………Second Young Master!”

Amid the noisy bustle, laughter rang out.

Beneath the verdant shade, Xie Wuchi stood clad in his robes, slightly narrowing his eyes as he looked up at the figure straddling a bough amid the dense foliage.

How could Xin Bin dare catch plums? Hovering nervously below with outstretched arms to catch the boy, he was fraught with anxiety.

Xie Wuchi said, “No need to worry. My brother and I were orphaned young, living for years in a rustic mountain temple—fishing, gathering wood, tilling, and farming. He excels at climbing trees.”

Shi Shu thought: Look at Xie Wuchi spinning wild tales again.

Xin Bin: “So that was it. This general worried in vain.”

True biological brothers then—raised by his own hands in a monastery from childhood without ever seeing women; is that why things turned out this way?

“Is that enough?” He tossed down a bunch more.

Climbing to the very top to pick a cluster of the plumpest, sweetest fruit, Shi Shu carried the branch in his teeth as he slid down the trunk, trotting up to Xie Wuchi and offering the plums: “For you.”

Under the sun, Shi Shu’s face was brimming with boyish radiance, glowing softly.

Taking them in hand, Xie Wuchi felt remarkably indulgent, musing that raising a kid truly required giving free rein to his natural instincts.

However, for the rest of the walk, Shi Shu climbed every tree he saw and plucked every fruit he found, leaving Xin Bin on edge the entire time: “My Lord? My Lord! This—”

This one truly is the Monkey King incarnate.

“…”

With his arms nearly overflowing with branches, Xie Wuchi paused in silence for a moment before saying, “Forget it. Let him be.”

Xin Bin: “…………”

Having finally tired himself out from climbing, Shi Shu returned to the courtyard to rest, watching Xin Bin strip the leaves from the bamboo and attach line and hook. Stepping into a corner, he grabbed a hoe to dig up earth, hunting for earthworms.

With half a jar filled, they set out in grand fashion to the stream, setting down low stools. Sunlight bathed the water, riverweeds glistening, reeds swaying with the breeze. While Shi Shu watched eddies swirl across the river’s surface, Xie Wuchi sat beside him browsing through his books.

Sunlight shone clear and beautiful, a gentle summer breeze blowing. Squatting nearby, Xin Bin caught the mimicry of a coded birdcall and excused himself back toward the temple. After staring at the water for a long while, Shi Shu slid over beside Xie Wuchi, peeking at the book he was reading, and pressed a washed plum to his lips.

Xie Wuchi: “I do not eat it. I do not eat outside of meals.”

Shi Shu found this line remarkably familiar, having heard it at least three times: “I really memorized it this time.”

Watching the fish, Shi Shu reminisced about their journey from Xiangnan Temple and their exile road; it was rare to have such peaceful, leisurely hours with Xie Wuchi: “We’ve never gone fishing together before.”

“If you are happy, we can stay here for a while, until I meet with them to finalize the grand strategy.” Turning a page with his fingertip, Xie Wuchi replied, “What do you want for lunch?”

“You fish, I catch crabs. You eat fish, I eat crab.”

Xie Wuchi read with intense focus, an ink brush between his fingers to underline and annotate. After lingering by his side for a moment, Shi Shu dashed into the shallows, flipping stones to hunt for crabs and crayfish, tossing his catch into the basket.

Min epics, reforms of the Five Great Kings… Understanding a nation’s cultural background, comprehending their patterns of thought, the distribution of clan power, even secret histories and folklore. Naturally, many truths were unrecorded, or distorted with whitewashed rhetoric, but an experienced operator could discern at a glance where the omissions lay… After reading for a long while, Xie Wuchi set down the book and looked toward the shallows downstream.

Shi Shu was bent over, crouching motionlessly by a boulder, stalking a large crab.

Splash! The moment the crab emerged, Shi Shu struck instantly.

Xie Wuchi watched him. After bagging the crab, Shi Shu instinctively looked up toward Xie Wuchi, surprised to meet his gaze, and clambered up the bank carrying his basket.

Shi Shu: “I caught a ton, plenty for lunch! But is crab better braised in soy sauce, steamed, or in soup? These look like ordinary river crabs, not hairy crabs.”

Xie Wuchi said, “I don’t know why, but the moment I look at you, I get hard.”

Shi Shu was still babbling: “I even caught a few egg-bearing females and let them go—wait, what?”

Wait, what?!

“……………”

“?”

Shi Shu glanced left and right; local villagers passed by occasionally. Shi Shu hissed: “Ge, what are you doing?!”

Xie Wuchi: “I caught two fish as well, enough to eat. Let’s head back.”

“…”

No need to state what going back meant. Shi Shu stammered, “Ge, didn’t we agree earlier—no daytime debauchery!”

“You misremembered. What I said was that doors shouldn’t be closed during the day.”

Picking up his basket, Shi Shu walked back toward the courtyard with him: “No, hold on—”

When Xin Bin returned from liaising with the secret guards, he spotted the two silhouettes walking shoulder to shoulder: one in moon-white robes, tall and poised; the other with trousers rolled to his knees, bare calves gleaming pale, a bright smile on his handsome, refined face.

Xie Wuchi uttered a single word: “Speak.”

Swallowing his words, Xin Bin said, “Nothing urgent. Just came to accompany My Lord fishing.”

Xie Wuchi gestured that he could leave, and Xin Bin promptly departed. Returning to the courtyard, they dumped the fish and crabs into a basin, watching them swim about.

The main doors were shut; the windows latched tight. Sitting on the bed, Shi Shu watched Xie Wuchi close the bedchamber door, unfastening the sashes and lapels of his tunic as he approached, draping them over the clothing rack.

“…”

In the modern world, this would be taking off a suit jacket and wristwatch. Shi Shu grabbed a book to pretend to read, but failing to keep up the pretense, he tossed it aside. Before he knew it, he had been gathered onto Xie’s lap. The kiss descended upon his lips.

…

A moment later, the main doors were flung wide open. Shi Shu emerged, sitting in the courtyard watching Xie Wuchi cook.

Xin Bin finally crept back over: “My Lord, word has come from Yuan Guan. Daoist Tianwei of neighboring Mount Wanglong—the bandit force that has always flown Dajing’s banner—is willing to take up arms with us. Word is, upon hearing the news, he wept profusely.”

Xin Bin sounded somewhat moved: “Downing three cups of wine, he bowed toward the south in tears, crying that his family had finally come to take them home!”

“Yong’an Prefecture is ancestral territory of Dajing, and the homeland of these people.” Rinsing the crabs on the cutting board, Xie Wuchi cracked them open to remove the gills. “Back then, the peace treaty ceded Yong’an, Dasheng, and Chuituo, effectively abandoning these citizens and handing them over to foreigners as slaves.”

“Whitewashing peace, wallowing in decadence, masking reality with song and dance under the guise of tranquility. Such conduct from the Eastern Capital’s imperial palace is a betrayal of the people.”

Imagine: your own motherland negotiating peace, ceding you to become subjects of a foreign land—and an invading one at that—who could stomach it?!

How many had taken their own lives; how many had fled south?

Meanwhile, other commanders remained indifferent. Who truly grieved for the people, or for the realm?

Chop. Slicing the crab in half, Xie Wuchi said, “They would rather die than become Min subjects, choosing to dwell as outlaws in the mountains. Thus, these people are the most sincere in their devotion to their homeland; hearing our intent, they actively rally to our banner. How many troops?”

Xin Bin: “Three thousand combatants; counting dependents, likely over ten thousand souls!”

Xie Wuchi: “Send ten thousand taels in banknotes for relief. Arrange an audience with Daoist Tianwei on another day; I will meet him in person.”

“Yes.” Xin Bin turned and departed.

Xie Wuchi put the crabs into the pot to simmer soup. Having watched television dramas, Shi Shu knew what Xie Wuchi was doing: organizing subversion behind enemy lines. Had Xie Wuchi not come, the one meeting Daoist Tianwei would have been him.

Stepping beneath the lean-to to help clean the fish, a dull crack! of thunder suddenly rolled across the sky. The August weather here shifted on a whim between sun and storm; heavy, inky clouds gathered overhead, lightning twisting within.

Shi Shu asked, “Aside from those genuinely yearning to return to their homeland, are there also opportunists among them seeking profit?”

Xie Wuchi: “Inevitably.”

Shi Shu: “Xie Wuchi, you aren’t afraid of anyone.”

“To effect colossal transformation, one must unite all kinds of people—the sincere, as well as the opportunistic.” Ladling the crab soup into a bowl, Xie Wuchi placed it into a steamer to keep warm.

Still moved, Shi Shu remarked, “Other generals indulge in pleasure or care only for their private armies, never sparing a thought for these commoners.”

“Because taking action is troublesome—traveling, toiling, laboring day and night, binding disparate enterprises together, running oneself ragged. Like ceremonial horses at court, the higher one’s official rank, the more mistakes one risks making by acting. They know right from wrong; they simply choose inaction. Men live for themselves; how few live for the people?”

Shi Shu blinked. Yet whether Xie Wuchi acted for himself or savored the thrill of chasing fame, profit, and world conquest, the fact remained that he was toiling for the people.

No ordinary person could possess such unyielding determination to tread the path of imperial unification.

Shi Shu: “Xie Wuchi, if I had your mindset, what couldn’t I succeed at?”

Bearing the life and death of all under heaven required precisely this caliber of resolve to carry the Mandate of Heaven.

Shi Shu scratched his head. Honestly, it was a blessing he had transmigrated as a farmer; if he had ended up a general or Prince Regent, he might have ruined the empire.

They ate together as a torrential downpour unleashed its fury. White mist veiled their sight, curtains of rain cascading from the tiled eaves into the wooden drainage gutters below with a rushing splatter, while flashes of purple and yellowish-white lightning erupted among the clouds.

Shi Shu sat beneath the eaves watching the rain; Xie Wuchi read beside him.

Across the storm-swept mountain range, even the ruined temple not far away was obscured. In all the world, only he and Xie Wuchi remained.

Sitting for a while, drowsiness finally overtook Shi Shu, and he decided to take an afternoon nap. When he returned to the bedchamber, Xie Wuchi stepped inside as well to lie down with him.

Eyes closed, in a half-asleep daze, Shi Shu felt someone climb into bed beside him.

Shi Shu vaguely knew who it was. Before he could fully register it, his lips were captured, a tongue slipping in to entangle with his. Breathing in his scent, Shi Shu forced his eyes open for a glance; knowing it was Xie Wuchi, he offered no resistance.

“What is it?”

His clothes were stripped away, his pale skin caressed by Xie Wuchi’s hands. Feeling Xie Wuchi’s desire was far too relentless, Shi Shu moved to speak, only for not just his lips, but his earlobe to be firmly bitten.

Drowsy and limp, Shi Shu didn’t bother resisting, letting Xie Wuchi bite him for a moment. By the time his senses cleared, his face had been pressed near the tattoo once more.

“Xie Wuchi…”

Though daytime, the tempest cloaked the room in near-total darkness. Back resting against the wardrobe, Xie Wuchi’s moon-white robe was loosely parted, exposing a wheat-toned, sculpted chest and abs, while the rest of his attire remained impeccably arranged. His veined palm cradled the back of Shi Shu’s head, fingers threading through his hair, guiding him with shallow thrusts.

“Good boy,” Xie Wuchi rasped.

Shi Shu slammed a fist into the mattress, wishing he could claw gouges into the wood: “Xie Wuchi, do you… like this position… that much?!”

“I like it very much. I fantasized about it countless times in the past. When speaking to my psychiatrist, I reiterated repeatedly that if I ever had a lover, I wanted to wake every morning within his mouth.”

“…”

What crime documentary are you auditioning for? Xie Wuchi, what country are you from? You don’t sound like anyone from our world.

“Xie Wuchi!” Shi Shu couldn’t understand people with disorders, struggling to speak through his gasps: “I—”

Regardless of physical comfort, this act was steeped in absolute dominance over one’s lover. Locking their fingers together, Shi Shu breathed, “I… I’ll do it myself…”

Physiological tears welled in Shi Shu’s eyes as he had no choice but to lick him like eating an ice cream cone. Spending this period with Xie Wuchi, Shi Shu occasionally reminded himself that he was straight.

Performing this for another man was something that made his ears burn scarlet every time he looked back on it.

If time could turn back to that first night entering Xiangnan Temple, he never could have imagined this day would come.

Shi Shu licked until his jaw ached. Leaning against the headboard, Xie Wuchi stroked Shi Shu’s earlobe, savoring the ecstasy and pleasure. Inside the dim room shrouded by the storm, two silhouettes intertwined upon the bed.

Possessing endless endurance, amidst his heavy pants, Xie Wuchi’s voice came hoarse: “Shi Shu, I tend to objectify myself, and harbor certain fetishistic inclinations.”

“Hmm?”

“I love this position with you. Kissing it feels like kissing me directly, making me feel loved by you.”

“…”

Eyes reddened, Shi Shu stared up at him. Though he had always known Xie Wuchi was twisted, at times it truly shattered his worldview to pieces. Shi Shu didn’t know what to say; completely unable to refuse him, he could only carry on.

“It feels so good…”

Xie Wuchi loved Shi Shu giving him oral.

His hair gently pressed: “Deeper.”

Enveloped in warm, slick wetness.

“Shi Shu, I want you to be obsessed with me.”

Shi Shu heard his raspy voice.

Shi Shu’s mind was reeling as it finally concluded, his mouth filled. Xie Wuchi wanted Shi Shu to be obsessed with him—not just with his person, but with his body, obsessed with his cock.

Shi Shu kissed his tattoo, then looked up. Xie Wuchi leaned lazily against the bedstead, dark eyes fixed upon him without blinking, like an emperor who had just been attended to.

Shi Shu reached out to touch his face. Though he didn’t always understand what Xie Wuchi was rambling about, he could sense that the man seemed starved for an enormous amount of love.

Doesn’t want money, just wants love, huh? Wealthy heir.

Shi Shu realized that living a life where you only took dick and took no hardships wasn’t an easy gig either! Seriously, did people think this kind of life was effortless?

Having soothed his emotions, Shi Shu finally lay down to resume his afternoon nap.

Rain lashed outside the window. Resting against the pillow, Xie Wuchi drew Shi Shu into his arms, listening to the tempest. Shi Shu enjoyed excellent sleep, dozing off the moment his head hit the pillow. But for Xie Wuchi, closing his eyes meant sorting through countless calculations, taking ten minutes just to review everything once. Before sleep, he would also mentally digest the books he had read.

Exerting his intellect to the absolute limit.

Xie Wuchi planted a gentle kiss on the crown of Shi Shu’s head. Shi Shu had already drifted off, snoring softly.

For some reason—perhaps due to the storm outside, the gloomy weather, and having nothing immediate to attend to—Xie Wuchi’s gaze grew exceptionally dark. Perhaps he was simply too idle; a man like Xie Wuchi was ill-suited for idleness.

The air still held the scent of stillness.

Contemplating for a while, he finally drifted off. The patter of rain outside seemed to morph into an entirely different sound.

Water gathered, gradually swelling into massive oceanic currents—freezing seawater.

—An impeccably manicured green lawn; pristine white walls sweeping up toward a cylindrical dome; climbing roses draping in endless cascades down the villa’s exterior; white doves taking flight from the rooftop to settle upon vacant window sills.

Across a single wall lay laughter and banter, clinking glasses, opulent jewelry, and flashing strobe lights.

A piano performance played on, expensive champagne spraying freely as the crowd danced to the rhythm of the melody, erupting in wave after wave of cheers.

On the other side, within the cerulean swimming pool, light shimmered across the water.

A soft thump echoed as a body sank into the depths.

Cold water rapidly siphoned warmth from the skin, soaking the exquisite fabric of the suit.

The water created a barrier before the eardrums with a faint ringing, and instantly all sounds attenuated into silence—

The surface film hung inches away. Viewed through the water, everything appeared fractured and fluid, shifting light and shadow, the five senses severed.

Drowning in water, as though floating in the sky.