UCTOOT CH66

The wind and snow howled, battering the window lattice.

Outside, the world was freezing cold; inside the quilt, it was warm as spring.

When Xie Wuchi woke from his nightmare, beads of sweat hung on the tip of his nose and his head throbbed with splitting pain. Looking down, he involuntarily stared at the person in his arms with a dark, cold gaze.

Shi Shu was fast asleep. The youth’s face was fair and clean, his nose straight, hair tousled across the bedding, clothes stripped completely bare by him.

Entangled legs, the texture of skin like velvet.

Xie Wuchi lay back against the pillow, his eyes reflecting the roof beams of the room. A drowning, suffocating tightness still knotted in his chest. He rarely dreamed; this was one of the few dreams he had experienced since arriving in this world.

A full year had passed, yet the tether to the modern world still pulled at him.

It must have been an afternoon when, clad in a tailored suit and leather shoes, he sat relaxed in a pristine white therapy office by the West Coast. The seasoned psychotherapist set down the file and raised an eyebrow: “Wow, with looks this handsome, an extraordinary family background, and an impeccable education and pedigree, how could someone like you suffer from psychological disorders?”

Xie Xun smiled, nodding slightly to him: “Though it sounds clichéd, I practically have no concept of what love is.”

Flipping through his medical records, the therapist noted: “Your father serves as a high-ranking official abroad, while your mother operates domestic hotel chains and real estate ventures worth over tens of billions, branching into tech and entertainment. Household income is conservatively…”

Xie Xun cut him off: “None of that matters.”

The therapist chuckled heartily: “I often treat people cultivated by elite households like yours. On the surface, you look polished and opulent, but psychologically you harbor all sorts of eccentricities. For instance, some enjoy hearing screams of agony, others like tearing at scalps, some are extraordinarily promiscuous, and others have harbored homicidal fantasies.”

Xie Xun turned his head to look at a faint blemish on the snow-white wall, hearing the doctor say: “Unbelievable as it sounds, the deranged behaviors most people find incomprehensible are often merely attempts to seek what was missing from their parents.”

His thoughts drifted aimlessly as the therapist read his profile: “Growing up with your mother in a Hamptons estate, the closest person to you was a nanny. But the moment your mother realized you developed maternal affection toward her, she drove her out. Before she left, your mother made her subject you to severe humiliation, and from then on replaced the nannies every six months to prevent you from loving anyone more than her… oh…”

Resting his chin on one hand, his white-shirted arm propped against the armchair rest, Xie Xun kept his head down, dissatisfied with coming to this place.

Because every word was a tired cliché; he was already intimately aware of every single issue.

“Your perception of intimacy is profoundly impaired.”

Xie Xun said: “Need I remind you, I knew that in my teens. You are the fifteenth therapist I have consulted.”

“Ah, then you are quite stubborn indeed. Perhaps you ought to try changing yourself.”

Change was difficult.

Because only internal logical consistency spared one from pain.

And change was agonizing.

…

Xie Wuchi closed his eyes for a moment, pulling his thoughts from the fractures of the dream, and looked down.

Seeming too warm, Shi Shu shifted slightly. Reaching out a hand to lightly pinch his chin, Xie Wuchi scrutinized Shi Shu’s face.

A flawless face. His circle had always been filled with flawless faces. Shi Shu’s cheeks were fair and clean, his jawline distinct, refined, and handsome without aggressive edge. Because he loved to smile, even in dreams his lips carried the hint of a grin.

Before Xie Wuchi even realized it, he leaned down to kiss him, prompting a faint mumble from Shi Shu’s sleep.

Watching him in the dark, Xie Wuchi unknowingly let a smile slip, softly brushing against the tip of his nose.

Then, he abruptly froze amid a wave of discomfort, like an actor on stage suddenly disengaging from the play. Xie Wuchi’s smiles had always been rigid; from childhood, voices had constantly told him: “You should smile more.”

So Xie Xun had practiced the most decent, measured fake smile in the mirror, holding that exact angle during every social interaction, just right.

But this time, the curve had exceeded the mark. Smiling like that gave him a sense of losing control, which struck him as instinctively dangerous and displeasing.

The moment displeasure and anxiety stirred, Xie Wuchi gripped Shi Shu’s jaw, deepening his kiss.

The warmth and smoothness of skin, the tangible reality beneath his fingers, the person cradled in his embrace, all made him feel far better. Glistening threads parted between their lips as Xie Wuchi panted softly, nuzzling Shi Shu’s fair earlobe.

Fondness.

Every morning, he had told his mother, “I love you.”

Offering that precisely calibrated smile.

His mother would return it with a hug and a smile.

In truth, the phrase had turned into a stale cliché, insipid as wax and utterly meaningless. In his teens, she installed surveillance in his bedroom; his mother had said: “In your bones, you seek out cheap, vile, gutter desires. The filthy parts of men attract you, and you derive pleasure in such a vulgar manner. Disgusting.”

The exterior and interior were distinct; words and smiles were lies. Only the warmth felt through skin was real. His mother’s hands had always been icy cold.

He had once mused with his therapist that if he were to kill someone, he would likely remain indifferent to their wails and pleas, yet pay rapt attention to the gradual loss of body heat as the blood drained away.

Yet his willingness to seek out therapists was probably his exhibitionist streak at work, paired with their confidentiality agreements. In truth, Xie Wuchi was very satisfied with the personality he had ultimately forged.

Immensely confident, his psychological fortress fortified and unshakable.

…

Tickled by the nuzzling, Shi Shu instinctively reached up to push him away, but his hand merely came to rest on his shoulder, moving no further.

Xie Wuchi could not help recalling that during the three-thousand-li journey into exile, Shi Shu had let him hold him like this countless times. Teasing with bright smiles during the day, his gaze had unconsciously begun pursuing him out of control.

Yet holding him right now, an emptiness rose once more in Xie Wuchi’s heart, tinged with a sense of the absurd.

He was a deeply selfish man who believed himself excessively restrained, aloof, loving only himself. It turned out that this was all he truly wanted.

…

Yet the person before him did not love him; at least, not in the ideal way that could embrace his sordid filth and depravity.

Cold drafts seeped beneath the quilt. Holding him as if holding the entire world, Xie Wuchi sank back into sleep.

Heavy snow blanketed the courtyard. The servant hired for the household had arrived just this morning, preparing breakfast right away, while layers upon layers of snow gathered on the ground.

Eating at the table, Shi Shu pondered whether such heavy snow had blocked that supply road again.

Sure enough, loud banging rattled the door: “Come out! Shovel snow, shovel snow! One person from every household to clear snow!”

Wolfing down his meal in haste, Shi Shu threw on his snow coat and dashed out with Du Zihan, waving back to Xie Wuchi who sat dining with upright poise: “We’re off! Take your time eating, Xie Wuchi, Zihan and I won’t be back for lunch!”

Xie Wuchi’s level gaze swept over the two who had donned their snow coats simultaneously: “You do not have to go. I will speak with the inspectorate so you need not serve this corvée duty in the future.”

Already waving his hand, Shi Shu strode out the door: “We have to be careful today. Who knows how much snow has gathered on the slopes. If we have to clear snow while risking another avalanche, it will be quite miserable.”

Du Zihan sighed: “Ah! In prosperity, the people suffer; in ruin, the people suffer.”

Xie Wuchi stood up and followed behind them.

Shi Shu hadn’t expected that the moment they reached the valley, two factions would be locked in a fierce dispute.

Slowing his pace and looking ahead, Shi Shu saw that Senzhou’s garrison troops had worked through the night to clear the snow, barely opening a narrow path through the gorge. Yet at the bottleneck stood two groups: one escorting grain carts, jostling forward, while the other carried banners bearing the character “Feng,” escorting military silver. Hurrying to make time, they jammed together, trading furious shouts that boiled over the pass.

“This is the emergency grain conduit for Senzhou! Grain takes precedence; neglect means execution! Yesterday’s blizzard already cost us half a day, and the provisions must reach the granaries within two days. What do you think you are doing?!”

The other side refused to back down: “Your grain is urgent, but our military payroll isn’t?!”

“Your payroll is bound for Yunzhou! It shouldn’t pass through Senzhou in the first place, you should be taking the Huai’an Highway! On what authority do you demand we make way?!”

Military orders were as unyielding as mountains; in a border zone, any delay could mean beheading, so neither side yielded an inch.

“On what authority? On the authority that my surname is Feng!”

Amid the uproar, a vicious bark rang out. Someone vaulted down from horseback, tall, martial, and imposing, eyes gleaming with sinister menace. Recognizing Feng Kuizhi at first glance, Shi Shu hurriedly ducked into a secluded spot behind cover to watch secretly.

To think their payroll escort had arrived here as well.

Horsewhip in hand, Feng Kuizhi lashed out. The magistrate overseeing the grain, who did not recognize the pampered scion of the northern border commanders, took a whip across the face. Flesh split instantly with pouring blood as he staggered back clutching his face.

Sweeping his glare across the crowd, Feng Kuizhi sneered: “If you don’t know, go ask around whose surname holds sway across Taiyin and Changping Prefectures! Not to mention this Senzhou path, even if I rode straight across the Tea River into Dasheng Prefecture, no one would dare bar my way!”

With that, he lashed his whip across the escort crew one by one. Though soldiers possessed robust builds, with every strike they fell back a pace, covered in bloody welts.

On this side, soldiers who had recognized the banner dared not step forward to intervene.

Feng Kuizhi!

A veritable demon king incarnate, the only son of Military Governor Feng Zhongshan. He might be nothing in the Eastern Capital, but out here on the frontier, he was effectively the crown prince.

Just as Shi Shu was watching with taut nerves, a voice suddenly broke through: “General Feng, by regulation, this is Senzhou’s grain conduit. Even if General Feng wishes to pass, it must wait until the food transport has cleared. Seizing the road and beating men, is that not overly tyrannical?”

Looking over, Shi Shu saw the speaker was very young and familiar: the leading adjutant who had arrived cursing after the Min cavalry chased the fleeing refugees upon their initial arrival in Senzhou.

Someone tugged his sleeve in secret: “Say no more.”

Yet not only did he refuse to retreat, he took another step forward: “General Feng, please stay your hand!”

Feng Kuizhi was right in the middle of enjoying his beating. Turning to see him, the man looked upright and youthfully noble; but Feng Kuizhi favored slender, fair-skinned beauties, so his temper flared instantly: “Who are you?”

Unflinching, the man replied: “Subordinate Song Sinan, under General Zhao of the Wolf-Arrow Army, serving as Front-Left Lieutenant of the Qiu Army.”

“Fuck!” Feng Kuizhi spat, erupting: “It’s you lot! That bastard Zhao Shirui, and your Qiu Army, crossing me at every turn! Looking down on me, are you?!”

Shi Shu suddenly realized that after a few months in the capital, Feng Kuizhi had shed his frontier dialect entirely.

Disregarding everything, Feng Kuizhi lunged forward and lashed out with his whip.

The whip fell like rain. Song Sinan did not even raise an arm to block, welts splitting open as he held his spine completely straight.

Turning to Xie Wuchi, Shi Shu heard him explain: “Feng Zhongshan serves as Military Governor over Taiyin and Changping Prefectures. Feng Kuizhi is his youngest son, while Zhao Shirui is his subordinate. Both belong to the frontier’s rising young faction, contenders for future succession, and likely harbor intense rivalry.”

Shi Shu’s eyes widened slightly: “Treating a commander like this? I recall the Qiu Army is exceptionally capable in battle.”

Thud.

Feng Kuizhi kicked Song Sinan violently to the ground. Still unsatisfied, he unsheathed his blade from his hip, intending to kill!

Battered and bloody, hatred finally welled in Song Sinan’s eyes, the fierce gaze of a wolf. Staring back in silence, the onlookers scrambled to plead: “General Feng, calm your wrath, General Feng! We beg of you, calm down!”

Right at that critical juncture.

A piercing whistle sounded nearby as columns of swift mounts galloped through the blowing snow, their silhouettes dashing across the winter landscape in a flurry of wind and dust.

A banner emblazoned with “Zhao” fluttered above the riders. Moments later, the mounts halted nearby as a tall man clad in heavy iron armor dismounted, crunching through the snow with large strides.

The crowd dropped to their knees at once, shouting: “General Zhao!”

The storm whipped fiercely. Looking back, Shi Shu saw Xie Wuchi observing the group, lost in thought. Turning his head back, Shi Shu let out an involuntary “Eh?”

This Zhao Shirui looked extraordinarily familiar.

A jagged scar ran from his forehead down to his jaw, thick brows set above features sculpted with unyielding military hardness, completely devoid of softness.

Shi Shu suddenly remembered: nearly a year ago at Xiangnan Temple, the commander who had quelled the Huainan Circuit rebellion, rode to the Eastern Capital demanding military payroll, and slighted the Prince’s face was this very Zhao Shirui. No wonder he treated Xie Wuchi favorably; that payroll back then had been…

Zhao Shirui strode forward, catching Feng Kuizhi’s whip in his fist.

The two locked eyes through the swirling blizzard.

Zhao Shirui spoke: “Kuizhi, where did all this temper come from?”

Letting go, Feng Kuizhi chuckled: “Zhao Er-ge, long time no see.”

Zhao Shirui: “Returning from the Eastern Capital escorting the payroll, weary from travel, yet you still have the energy to torment my men?”

Feng Kuizhi: “Hahaha, they were lacking tact! I was simply disciplining them on your behalf.”

Casting a glance into the carriage, Zhao Shirui spotted the perfumed man inside: “You have refused to study righteousness since childhood, picking up these rotten vices. Uncle Feng dotes on you and never scolds you, but I have never tolerated it. Now that you are back, rein in your wild ways and share Uncle Feng’s burdens. Didn’t you want passage? Men!”

“General, what are your orders?”

“Grant General Feng’s convoy right of way first.”

Having spoken, Zhao Shirui turned to gesture at Song Sinan: “Stand up.”

Covered in bloody welts, Song Sinan stumbled to his feet, stepping to the side.

Yet evidently, Feng Kuizhi had no intention of letting it drop so easily, glaring fixedly at Zhao Shirui: “Zhao-ge is truly capable, always deflecting thousand-catty blows with four ounces, dissolving matters into thin air.”

Composed by nature, Zhao Shirui looked at him: “What will it take for you to vent your anger then?”

Feng Kuizhi: “I insist on his death.”

Murderous intent surged in his words. Shi Shu could not comprehend what massive feud simmered beneath their placid exterior. Zhao Shirui’s dark eyes met his: “Kuizhi, I have warned you countless times not to act on impulse. Especially as a commander, a momentary fit of temper from you can leave many men dead without a burial shroud.”

Feng Kuizhi smirked: “I am not capable like you; I prefer acting on impulse.”

Zhao Shirui: “Very well. Today, this man will not die. If you insist on being stubborn, we shall confront Uncle Feng in person to settle this.”

Feng Kuizhi snapped in fury: “Zhao Shirui!”

Zhao Shirui: “You have always been this headstrong. Do not blame me for not warning you: military authority rests in our hands, carrying the lives of so many men. It is not a stage for your young master tantrums! Summon that male favorite of yours to coax you home!”

Contempt showed on Zhao Shirui’s face: “To me, you are barely two or three years old, bound only by your lower half, a useless wretch.”

Feng Kuizhi grabbed his collar, and the two frontier commanders brawled right before the crowd. Watching, Shi Shu silently cheered: Hit him, hit him!

Sure enough, Zhao Shirui downed Feng Kuizhi with a few heavy punches, splitting the skin of his face, and hauled him up by the collar: “If anyone dares speak a word of today’s matters, I will cut out their tongue. Move! To Yunzhou, to see the Military Governor.”

With that, he shoved Feng Kuizhi into the carriage, dragged the male favorite out by the hair, and kicked him aside: “Conscript him as a camp follower.”

“Understood!”

Turning his head, the carriage rolled into motion as the party departed swiftly.

The scene had been so chaotic that Shi Shu barely caught the key points. Nearby, someone beside Song Sinan shouted: “Fetch a physician, hurry!”

Xie Wuchi murmured softly: “You may go.”

Shi Shu stepped forward, raising his hand: “I can help him staunch the bleeding.”

“Come quick, come quick!”

Shi Shu looked back at Xie Wuchi. Clad in his snow cloak, the man pondered with bowed head for a moment, then mounted his steed to pursue the convoy. On the other side, Du Zihan was hurried along: “Shovel snow, shovel snow! The drifts are piling up again!” The group parted ways.

Turning around as the farce concluded, Shi Shu walked to Song Sinan’s side: “Let me dress your wounds.”

Song Sinan was pale with agony, having bitten his lip raw. Those beside him grumbled bitterly: “That Feng demon king, completely worthless yet full of spite, beating you like this.”

“Just like his father, a good-for-nothing wretch.”

Hearing that, Shi Shu looked up in surprise: “Ah?”

Realizing his slip of the tongue, the speaker clamped his mouth shut while the others glared at him. Shi Shu smiled: “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Moving Song Sinan into a shelter shielding them from the storm, luckily they kept standard medicines on hand. Shi Shu sprinkled powder over the wounds and wrapped them layer by layer in bandages, a task he had grown quite adept at.

While chatting, Shi Shu asked: “How old are you?”

Song Sinan said: “I am nineteen.”

Shi Shu: “…Nineteen and already a lieutenant general?”

Someone chuckled: “Not just a junior general; Song Sigui is the senior general, while Song Sinan is our junior general.”

“Song Sigui?”

Song Sinan tried to cut him off, but the soldier had already blurted out: “The leader of the Qiu Army, and our junior general’s gege.”

Shi Shu: “Your ge is quite formidable. I have a ge too.”

Song Sinan: “Who is your ge?”

“Xie Wuchi.”

“May I ask if it is the Xie Wuchi who promulgated the New Policies?”

Mentioning the name, Shi Shu assumed they wouldn’t know. Unexpectedly, the youths around his age erupted in chatter: “It is truly him! We heard long ago that Lord Xie was framed by treacherous court officials and exiled to our Taiyin, who knew it would be Senzhou! Good heavens, Lord Xie is quite the figure.”

Brightening, Shi Shu smiled: “You have heard of him?”

“Of course! The court is filled with corrupt ministers, not a good soul among them. Withholding our military pay while reveling in singing and dancing, letting us frontier folk bear all the suffering. Refusing to let us fight, coddling the Min and watching them grow mighty. Only Lord Xie was decent, reforming the land tax to squeeze out payroll for us.”

Shi Shu’s fingers paused, surprised inwardly: the frontier troops loathed civil officials so intensely, yet held such high regard for Xie Wuchi.

Wounds bandaged, Song Sinan sat resting, asking Shi Shu: “Where is your residence in Senzhou? I will pay a visit another day.”

Shi Shu shared the address, and the youth nodded repeatedly.

Returning to shovel snow, several men crowded around chatting with him. Shi Shu could not help asking: “The Qiu Army, did you truly flee back from the Min side?”

Speaking of this, several voices chimed in at once: “Of course. They forced us to farm under beatings and curses, killing people out of spite whenever displeased, just like that General Feng. I lived across in Zhao Family Village, which was ceded to Min royalty. Packs of vile lackeys beat us daily; disobedience meant gouging eyes, cutting kneecaps, or lopping off hands and feet, savage beyond belief.”

Someone’s eyes reddened as he spoke: “Fleeing from the Min meant crossing a long blockade line with almost no rest. The grandparents were too old to walk, so only our parents and us could flee. But the moment we ran, the Min dogs slaughtered our kin. My grandparents are surely dead.”

“…”

Wiping his brow, an ache of pity surfaced on Shi Shu’s handsome face: “How many men are there in your Qiu Army?”

“Thirty thousand. Everyone says the Qiu Army fights most fiercely. Many who fled back die in battle, but there is a steady stream of newcomers returning to enlist, maintaining thirty thousand strong,” the speaker, barely in his teens, said proudly.

“We live solely to reclaim our lost lands and return home.”

Shi Shu: “Good, good… You will certainly succeed, certainly reclaim these fallen three prefectures and six circuits. I wish you victory.”

Shi Shu glanced at Du Zihan, who looked deeply moved, clearing his throat.

Turning his face, the men were still smiling as Song Sinan emerged despite his injuries to direct the grain transport.

They had only one aim: to return home.

For the sake of returning home, they were willing to spill their blood and lay down their lives, because across that border lay friends, kin, and the soil where they had lived for generations.

Unsure of what he was feeling, Shi Shu bowed his head and resumed clearing snow.

Gradually, daylight faded into dusk. Having bonded with them over food and drink throughout the day, Shi Shu waved before leaving: “I am heading home! See you tomorrow!”

The snow lay deep; except for the valley along the supply road, every corner of this land was buried under thick drifts.

Trudging through deep, soft snowdrifts, halfway along the path, a familiar figure appeared before him: Xie Wuchi, clad in a pristine crane cloak, was walking toward him.

Shi Shu could not help waving: “Xie Wuchi! Over here! What did you come for?”

Xie Wuchi: “To bring you home.”

Those words sent a soft flutter through Shi Shu’s heart. Stepping beside Xie Wuchi, he saw him produce a bamboo snow hat, placing it over Shi Shu’s head while brushing the snow from his shoulders.

His face flushed red instantly. Ducking his head, he brushed at the snow in agitated mutters: “Damn it, when will this snow ever stop? Shit! It really drives someone crazy!”

Looking back, Du Zihan stood scratching his ears in awkward embarrassment, reminding Shi Shu vividly of his former self.

“How was today?” Xie Wuchi asked.

Shi Shu: “Made a bunch of new friends today, pretty good. Who knew so many of those lethal Qiu Army fighters are the same age as me? They are truly remarkable!”

Xie Wuchi: “You are very remarkable too.”

Shi Shu pressed his tongue against his cheek. Looking back, Du Zihan had long since veered off in a wide “V”, parting ways to keep his distance.

Shi Shu thought: What is he doing?

Beside his ear, Xie Wuchi asked softly: “Is your birthday coming soon?”

__

The author has something to say:

Xiao Bao is turning nineteen soon!

Xie Wuchi plans to tie a gift ribbon around himself to give to Xiao Shu-bao ^^