UCTOOT CH121

Shi Shu sought out Lin Yangchun and settled into routine within the army. Meanwhile, Xie Wuchi was consumed by affairs of state: the envoys to finalize military deployment with King Zhouchi had been dispatched, requiring an audit of military materiel, baggage trains, and grain reserves, alongside reviewing officers and muster rolls, preparing in advance to deploy troops the moment coordination with King Zhouchi was signaled.

—At the same time, it was the season of autumn harvest. Boundless fields were heavy with bounty: corn, sorghum, soybeans, wheat, rice, peaches, grapes, and melons were all ripe for the taking, and the commoners in the military agricultural colonies were organized to reap, dry, and store the crops in granaries. Every day, Xie Wuchi conferred with grain stewards and agricultural officials, inspecting the prefecture.

Perhaps buoyed by the harvest, the atmosphere across the commandery was buzzing with vitality. Lately, whenever Shi Shu finished his duties in the main camp and went looking for Xie Wuchi, he often found the man had barely taken two bites of food before someone rushed in reporting an enlistment deficit here or a fire breaking out there, prompting him to rise and depart on the spot.

Xie Wuchi governed the military and the state with iron discipline; he laid down regulations, and executed anyone who dared transgress. When affairs multiplied, infractions mounted as well. Having executed quite a few people of late, a faint tang of copper and blood clung beneath his robes as he walked, sending shivers through the legs of the servants attending him.

Shi Shu remained in the encampment, making clinical rounds with Lin Yangchun by day, and sleeping in the Controller General’s central command tent by night. More often than not, Shi Shu was already fast asleep by the time Xie Wuchi returned in the dead of night.

The moment he returned, Shi Shu would get up yawning, seeing the weariness etched between Xie Wuchi’s brows—tired enough to nod off sitting up—and draw water to sponge down the sweat clinging to his body.

Stripping his robes, wiping his sweat, feeding him the brewed heat-clearing decoction. Resting for a brief moment, Xie Wuchi would lean over his desk to pen his journal entries before finally climbing into bed.

Once that relentless rhythm took hold, he was out the moment his head hit the pillow, only to head out before dawn the next morning to inspect the foundries and armories manufacturing military gear, preventing anyone from slacking off.

Watching Xie Wuchi leave at dawn and return by dusk every day, Shi Shu couldn’t resist remarking with admiration: “Xie Wuchi, if not for you bearing the heavy burden and forging ahead, Du Zihan and I would probably still be feeding pigs back in the village, wouldn’t we?”

A man was at his most charming when hard at work.

When looking for a partner, one must find someone industrious and capable, rather than being dazzled by flashy, useless pretense.

Shi Shu was also covered head-to-toe in dust every day, digging up herbs and laying them out to dry. He was merely slightly better off than Xie Wuchi in that he didn’t work overtime; after returning, bathing, and eating, he could lie down and rest while waiting for Xie Wuchi.

Xie Wuchi wasn’t the sort of man who came home from work taking his foul moods out on everyone; his tone was always gentle and even, save for his boundless libido being impossible to rein in. He would demand Shi Shu pleasure him with his mouth until satisfied, and insist on holding Shi Shu close for lingering kisses. When utterly exhausted, he wrapped his arms around him to sleep—how long he slept depended purely on luck; sometimes, barely an hour or two after lying down, fresh reports would summon him away.

The reason Xie Wuchi was so consumed by work stemmed from the court’s hostility; he urgently needed to mend armor, sharpen weapons, and consolidate an autonomous military machine. The realm was currently caught in tectonic upheaval, with the peasant uprisings in Qian’an Prefecture serving as the opening herald.

There could not be the slightest slackening; perhaps the hour of declaring independence was fast approaching.

Once the busiest days passed, Shi Shu, who had long planned to treat the companions he had weathered Yunzhou with—Lin Yangchun, Lin Baihe, Zihan, and Sinan—to a meal together, finally found free time today.

Inside a verdant timber pavilion beside Huangcheng Temple within Yanzhou City, laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air. Seated by the window, Shi Shu kept glancing down at the street below while eating.

“Brother Xie said he was returning today?” Du Zihan asked.

Shi Shu: “He spent three days touring the other commanderies and said he’d be back today, since an imperial edict arrived from the Eastern Capital. How come I haven’t seen any carriages pass by yet?”

Da-da-da. Shi Shu suddenly heard the rhythmic clatter of hooves. Clad in a crimson-purple round-collar silk robe, Xie Wuchi rode past flanked by an escort of mounts. Shi Shu’s eyes lit up, but his direction was not back to the governor’s grand estate, but toward the Pacification Commission.

Watching his retreating silhouette, a layer of travel dust lingered beneath Xie Wuchi’s eyes, accompanied by the faint, world-weary scent of gunpowder and smoke. Shi Shu had completely lost his appetite, hastily shoving two mouthfuls of food in: “You guys keep eating; I’m heading back first.”

Without waiting for the others’ confused choruses of “Huh?” and “Hey!”, he dashed back to the manor. Upon inquiring, he learned Xie Wuchi was dining and drinking with his colleagues from the Pacification Commission. Shi Shu waited all the way until the dead of night before hearing the commotion of attendants holding octagonal lanterns at the entrance, escorting him back to the inner bedchambers.

A boot scuffed against the threshold; Xie Wuchi was somewhat tipsy.

At drinking banquets, Xie Wuchi drank very little, but when each person offered a toast, a few cups were inevitable. Stepping close, Shi Shu supported him through the doorway.

His frame was rather heavy. Shi Shu helped Xie Wuchi sit down upon the daybed, catching the scent of sweat from his body, and proceeded to strip his robes off.

Shi Shu: “You lie down; I’ll pour you some water.”

Bringing the water over, Xie Wuchi wasn’t actually very drunk, dark circles rimming beneath his lashes. He let Shi Shu feed him water, barely moving his body. Shi Shu then brought over a basin of water, wringing out the damp cloth to sponge the sweat from his frame.

Xie Wuchi was visibly worn down—having returned from a long journey across other commanderies only to be dragged straight into a drinking banquet. Shi Shu stroked his face, and once Xie Wuchi regained some composure, they lay down in bed together.

Xie Wuchi had another habit: whenever he was exhausted, he loved holding him. Shi Shu turned around as he lay there, gathered into Xie Wuchi’s embrace, looking at his downcast lashes.

Shi Shu couldn’t stand someone being reeking drunk, feeling like he was taking care of his old man who’d had too much to drink during New Year’s: “Go drink some water and rinse the alcohol from your mouth; I don’t like it.”

Xie Wuchi rose, swished several mouthfuls of water, and spat it into the gilded basin.

Shi Shu embraced him, tracing the dark bruises beneath his eyes. Whenever critical moments arrived requiring grand strategic maneuvers and coordinated redeployments, Xie Wuchi saw to every single detail personally; even a man of iron had moments of exhaustion. Xie Wuchi was genuinely tired, showing little desire to talk, no longer spouting those wanton remarks.

Yet just as Shi Shu moved to get up and snuff out the candle, Xie Wuchi reached out an arm to catch him, rolling over to gather Shi Shu tightly into his arms.

Shi Shu: “What is it? I was just going to blow out the candle.”

Xie Wuchi said nothing, his skeleton considerably larger than Shi Shu’s, burying his face into his neck. Shi Shu could only rest an arm over his back, stroking him gently as he spoke with him.

“Are you still swamped?”

Xie Wuchi: “The deployment to support King Zhouchi has been arranged, and the grain has all been stored in granaries.”

Shi Shu kissed his cool eyelids: “Is there still more to do next?”

“Yes,” Xie Wuchi said. “Once deployments are complete, we must wage war.”

Candlelight reflected in Shi Shu’s eyes: “Holy crap, climbing mountains and crossing rivers—is there not a single break where you can rest?”

Normally, this would be Xie Wuchi’s time to rest after an exhausting day, and he would usually fall straight asleep. But now, perhaps because they were together, he enjoyed cuddling him and holding him close.

Shi Shu asked, “Before, when you were worn out from work, did you just collapse and sleep?”

Xie Wuchi: “Mm.”

Shi Shu: “Then why don’t you get some rest? You don’t need to hold me.” Fearing he was hindering his rest, Shi Shu moved to pull away, but Xie Wuchi held on tighter: “I want to hold you.”

Exhausted to this degree, holding Shi Shu in bed, he didn’t even harbor wicked thoughts.

In the darkness, Shi Shu kept his bright eyes open without any stray thoughts either, simply holding him, looking at Xie Wuchi’s straight nose, dark brow, and sharply defined contours—radiating nobility and detachment.

His waist clamped in Xie Wuchi’s tight grip, Shi Shu listened to the rain outside the window: “Just like in Qian’an Prefecture—the moment the grain was harvested, the rain started pouring. Is this rain going to last for days?”

Xie Wuchi: “Mm. With heavy rainfall, it may turn into a flood.”

“…” Shi Shu: “Then you’re going to be swamped with work again?”

Shi Shu toyed with his hair. With his eyes closed, Xie Wuchi actually drifted right to sleep. He was simply too exhausted—mustering troops and inspecting weaponry in the barracks, attending to civilian livelihoods and grain harvests, rushing back to the city only to trade toasts and make polite conversation at a banquet.

With Xie Wuchi asleep, Shi Shu studied his face closely, thinking to himself that he was so tired today he hadn’t even kissed anyone.

Shi Shu’s gaze drifted to his lips: thin, slightly pale, but…

Shi Shu stared for a few seconds. By the time he realized it, he had already leaned in to press against his lips. Since Xie Wuchi was asleep anyway, Shi Shu sneakily stole several kisses.

Xie Wuchi stirred with faint awareness, but between exhaustion and alcohol, he was sleeping deeply.

Shi Shu worried about disturbing him, yet Xie Wuchi’s body temperature was burning hot. Outside the window, rain pelted against plantain leaves, whistling wind shaking loose autumn’s chill as foliage rustled.

Shi Shu felt a bit chilly himself. Having not shared a bed with him for quite a few days, a few stray thoughts actually crossed his mind. Slipping a hand beneath Xie Wuchi’s inner tunic, he touched his warm, feverish skin.

Xie Wuchi’s complexion was a healthy wheat-toned tan with supple texture, bearing occasional faint marks indicating he had once been cool porcelain-white, but had tanned under the open sun into this robust, commanding shade.

While fair skin was aesthetic, it carried an aloof, aristocratic distance detached from the mortal dirt; his current complexion, set among the mass of Northern frontier generals, made him appear all the more composed, self-possessed, and overwhelmingly imposing. When Shi Shu first met him, he had thought the same.

Guided by mischievous impulses, Shi Shu slid his hand deeper beneath the thin inner garment, stroking his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

Shi Shu was stimulated by the returning heat: “Xie Wuchi… you’re so warm…”

Having stroked his skin, resting his hand casually left it feeling rather cool by contrast. Beneath the quilt, Shi Shu kissed his lips again, habitually slipping his hand beneath the drawstring of his undergarments.

Brushing against that familiar warmth, the heat in his palm flared. Xie Wuchi still kept his eyes shut in exhaustion, offering zero resistance.

“Behaving yourself for once today, aren’t you?” Shi Shu smiled and kissed him again. Xie Wuchi seemed faintly aware, but merely gathered Shi Shu tighter into his arms, their skin pressing closer together. As for how Shi Shu toyed with him, he showed only a subtle reaction, dipping his head to kiss the crook of his neck.

Shi Shu didn’t want to wake the sleeping man; even his caresses over his back were featherlight, like stroking a sheet of warm velvet. The sharply contoured muscles beneath his palm—the abdominal lines and obliques—were thoroughly explored. Shadows still hung beneath Xie Wuchi’s eyelashes, though his lips had regained color from the kisses.

Shi Shu couldn’t help smiling again, but having no intention of waking Xie Wuchi, after running his hands all over, he left his palm resting where Xie Wuchi so often fondled him, and drifted off to sleep just like that.

Until waking the next morning, Shi Shu sprawled across the head of the bed, blinking bleary, sleep-heavy eyes as a gust of autumn wind swept in with brisk chill.

Xie Wuchi had already risen long ago, his long dark hair neatly groomed, sitting by the headboard in clean white inner robes, staring unblinkingly at the wind and rain outside the window.

Shi Shu: “What’s wrong?”

Outside the door, the hurried footsteps of a servant arrived with an urgent report:

“Summoning Controller General Xie: His Majesty has issued an imperial edict.”