TBR CH147

Chapter 147: Drunk in Your Embrace – You were already my weakness

After three rounds of drinks, Ji Ying finally noticed something amiss.

He placed his wine cup on the table, his lips parted, but before he could speak, he heard Chu Huaicun chuckle lightly from across, naturally picking up the wine pot and refilling his cup.

The amber wine shimmered gently in the cup, reflecting the other’s eyes, clear as frost and snow. Chancellor Chu lowered his head and sipped a mouthful of wine, as if silently urging him on.

Ji Ying had no choice but to drink another cup.

The spicy wine spread on his tongue. Even after swallowing, he still felt a burning heat from his lungs to his cheeks. He suddenly looked up, his expression a mix of bewilderment and panic, not knowing where it came from. He pursed his lips and pressed Chu Huaicun’s hand, knowing that he was still many cups away from getting drunk.

What about Chu Huaicun?

“Don’t drink anymore,” Ji Ying stopped him from pouring more wine. “Chancellor Chu, don’t you understand? This is strong liquor that intoxicates on contact, yet I don’t feel drunk at all. I’m not him… If you’re trying to test me with such a trick, you’re likely to be disappointed. But you, drinking like this is bad for your health. Chancellor Chu, you’ve only just recovered from your injury, aren’t you afraid of getting drunk first?”

He pressed Chu Huaicun’s hand. That hand, capable of killing with a sword, did not struggle, but lay quietly in his palm. Chu Huaicun lowered his eyes, dressed in snow-white, like an immortal banished from the heavens, unstained by worldly dust. Yet, Ji Ying suddenly caught a whiff of wine on him, an overwhelming scent that alarmed him.

“You…”

Chu Huaicun said nothing, turning his hand over to press Ji Ying’s hand. Then, he leaned forward, moving along Ji Ying’s arm, gradually reaching his slender shoulder.

Ji Ying struggled blankly. Chu Huaicun then whispered into his ear, a series of muffled words, probably telling him not to move casually.

“You’re really drunk.”

Ji Ying said, syllable by syllable, unable to hide his shock. He felt warm breath on his neck. “Chu Huaicun, have you misunderstood something—”

“No,”

Chu Huaicun said softly, his voice finally hoarse with drunkenness. He adjusted his posture, seemingly a little uncomfortable, choosing the most suitable angle to lean on Ji Ying.

“No mistake, I knew I would get drunk. My alcohol tolerance isn’t great, but you wouldn’t know, because every time in the past, you lost consciousness before me…”

Things always escalated unexpectedly to an unmanageable point.

For example, Chu Huaicun thought he only wanted to use his drunkenness to test Ji Ying a little, but he ended up getting completely drunk. Even someone as calculating as him couldn’t have predicted that the first glance he cast at Ji Ying after losing clear consciousness would, purely by intuition, completely merge the figure in his memory with the person before him, leaving no room for doubt.

Another example: Ji Ying thought he would be dealing with a tacit test between them, an unspeakable act of shattering glass and swallowing blood, at most mixed with a hint of vague ambiguity. But he didn’t expect to face a drunken Chu Huaicun. The other party still sat impeccably dressed, yet was so utterly drunk that he couldn’t listen to reason at all.

And, worst of all, Ji Ying thought despairingly, he couldn’t handle the other party’s slightly petulant words when drunk.

Just like the young Master Lin couldn’t handle the sword-wielding youth by his side.

“I’ll call someone to bring hangover soup.”

He dared not imagine the consequences of letting Chu Huaicun continue speaking. It wasn’t like this; their mutual testing should be a give-and-take, each harboring their own thoughts. Only then could he keep his secret. If he withdrew now, perhaps he wouldn’t fall into the trap Chu Huaicun had already woven. Just as he was about to make a sound, his lips were covered by long, cool fingers.

Chu Huaicun was so drunk he couldn’t even see clearly. He frowned at Ji Ying, then after a long gaze, suddenly called out softly:

“Yuan Ya, please don’t call anyone, okay? I want to be alone with you for a while.”

He so easily spoke the name that had once been crushed between his lips.

With his movement, Chu Huaicun swayed precariously across the wine table. His sleeve caught a wine cup, sending it tumbling across the table and then onto the floor. A good cup of wine was spilled in vain, but in this scene, no one had time to care about it. Chu Huaicun focused intently on Ji Ying, his gaze like ice and snow illuminated by heavenly light, shining brightly with an unapproachable brilliance.

“You’re drunk, you can’t even recognize people.”

Ji Ying told himself he wanted to leave, but his hands uncontrollably gently caressed Chu Huaicun’s back. Chancellor Chu was truly a cunning schemer, even more so than him, having probably calculated that he couldn’t possibly leave at such a moment. He avoided the other’s gaze as he spoke, trying to deceive himself, attempting to leave a sliver of opportunity for defense.

But a sober person cannot argue with a drunkard.

Chu Huaicun, before getting himself drunk, definitely didn’t know what he would say. The jade pendant at his waist swayed slightly with his movements, and he rubbed his cheek against Ji Ying’s deep purple official robe, catching a whiff of dragon’s saliva incense.

The demoted Chancellor Chu, now a drunkard, carefully examined him, his voice even carrying a hint of inexplicable grievance: “You clearly are him, don’t lie to me.”

Ji Ying had never felt so helpless.

Because he had never so clearly realized that the person in front of him, without logic or reason, had identified him as that radiant and distinguished Young Master Lin. And he couldn’t hide it from himself, because he knew that the person in front of him at this moment was also not the ambitious Chancellor Chu, but the youth who had been left in the world more than a decade ago.

He was once sharp, bright, and he was equally stubborn, incapable of lying.

“I’m not,” Ji Ying could only explain powerlessly to the drunken Chu Huaicun before him, “I am Ji Ying, do you understand? We had no connection before. I am not him. That Yuan Ya you speak of, look closely, how is he related to me?”

His mistake was in believing that a drunken person could actually listen to reason.

Chu Huaicun tilted his head, looking at him, his ink-black hair falling like a watercolor painting, obscuring half of his eyes. He seemed to murmur to himself: “You indeed don’t look like him.”

Ji Ying felt a sharp pain from the beating thing hidden beneath the flesh of his left chest as these words fell. But his face paled as he looked at the already messy wine spread before him and Chu Huaicun, whose eyes were filled with the hazy glow of melting ice and snow, and felt that he deserved this. He curved his lips and deliberately smiled:

“It’s good that Chancellor Chu recognized it. It seems that my continued presence here would only cause more trouble. If Chancellor Chu wants my body, I’m afraid it will have to be another day. I don’t want to be a substitute for that Yuan Ya, sleeping with you in his place…”

He had imagined many reactions from Chu Huaicun, but he never expected the logic of a drunkard to be so inexplicable. Chu Huaicun, after hearing his words, slowly released the hand that had been pressing his lapel. Just as Ji Ying felt he had to leave immediately, he hadn’t even taken a step when Chu Huaicun closed his eyes and kissed him.

“What…?” Ji Ying’s eyes widened abruptly. The kiss carried a rich wine aroma, pervading the space between their lips.

Chu Huaicun was truly drunk.

So drunk he couldn’t be pushed away, but anyway, Ji Ying felt he hadn’t really used much force. Chu Huaicun thus kissed Ji Ying’s sarcastic lips, stifling his remaining half-spoken words, and only released him to look at him frankly, seemingly not feeling that there was anything wrong with his behavior:

“I don’t like you talking like that,”

Every word he spoke was more direct and open than the last. “I only love you.”

Ji Ying thought, perhaps only he in this world could witness such a Chu Huaicun. He was aloof and indifferent, always dressed in white, and exuded an imposing aura, appearing at ease in the treacherous imperial court, like a beast hunting in the jungle.

But precisely because of this, the contrast in him when drunk was so unbelievable, making one’s heart tremble.

From Chu Huaicun’s perspective, the person in front of him probably foolishly avoided his gaze, wanting to withdraw and flee, but his feet were rooted to the ground, and finally, he softly and indulgently coaxed him:

“I know, I know. I won’t say it again. But I am not the person you think I am. I’ll go call someone now. Chancellor Chu, wait for me here, okay? I’ll come back to accompany you.”

“No.” Even drunk, Chu Huaicun still had his principles. His eyes, for an instant, seemed to regain the shimmering light of ice and snow, but then they were veiled in a haze again. Ji Ying’s previous sentence seemed to have touched his raw nerve. He withdrew, sat back properly in his chair, straightening his spine. Even utterly drunk, he maintained an awe-inspiring, unassailable demeanor.

“You told me this, do you remember?”

His thoughts connected with old events from who-knew-when. “Yuan Ya, you told me to go first, and that we would have another chance to meet. But I waited for a long time, I really waited—”

“Stop talking.” Ji Ying closed his eyes. “Those are old stories, who still remembers them clearly?”

“From the mountain outside the capital, that fire seemed like it would never go out.”

Chu Huaicun said softly, reaching out as if to touch the flames he saw in his hallucination. “The fire burned for three days and three nights. I erected an unmarked stone tablet for you on the mountain, but I couldn’t leave a name. Afterwards, I went to sweep the grave every year. You didn’t like wine, so I left a cup of tea before the tomb. Counting it, after so many years, I’ve almost grown accustomed to your disappearance.”

“Chancellor Chu is just talking nonsense.”

Ji Ying felt a sense of crisis silently constricting his throat, almost making him unable to breathe. But he knew he could no longer harden his heart and leave, only weakly retorting,

“I’m not like him, you just said it, there’s no similarity between us.”

Chu Huaicun seemed not to listen at all, simply continuing, “For so many years, I’ve missed you deeply. I told myself you were still alive, but in truth, I never dared to be sure. Until that black book told me you were still alive. I’ve thought it over, no matter what kind of person you are now, what you’re doing, I will always recognize you.”

The black book he spoke of, Ji Ying had never heard of.

But this did not prevent him from clearly realizing that things were spiraling out of control. Ji Ying quickly thought for a moment and chose the most likely method to change the subject. He pinched his palm, his voice tight: “Chancellor Chu, what is this ‘black book’ you speak of?”

A drunkard’s emotions always change rapidly. The moment the question left his lips, Ji Ying saw Chu Huaicun curve his lips.

“The black book,” he said slowly, “is the Heavenly Dao.”

Ji Ying thought: …He’s definitely drunk.

Chancellor Chu was not the kind of person who would believe in the supernatural. Anyone who knew him could see that. Ji Ying wasn’t either. How drunk must he be to talk nonsense about knowing the Heavenly Dao.? Chu Huaicun chuckled softly again, adding:

“After seeing it, I realized that the Heavenly Dao. and spirits are actually quite similar, and sometimes not very intelligent. Oh, it also said last time that it could directly tell me if you are the person I’m looking for.”

Although the topic hadn’t changed, the atmosphere had at least lightened considerably. Ji Ying believed that Chu Huaicun was beginning to fall into a relatively safe fantasy, so he also joined in with a casual, smiling tone:

“Oh, then what kind of result did that ‘Heavenly Dao.’ give Chancellor Chu?”

Chu Huaicun looked at him with a hint of bewilderment, then looked him up and down twice, clearly dissatisfied with the question. Ji Ying again felt his cheeks flush. Such a Chu Huaicun was something he was utterly unable to contend with.

“I didn’t ask.” He said, frowning.

Ji Ying maintained the smile on his face and said, “Why? Chancellor Chu must think that the Heavenly Dao. is not to be trusted, right?”

“No,” Chu Huaicun corrected him patiently, “Because I will recognize you myself.”

Ji Ying suddenly felt a strange shift in the atmosphere between them. Chu Huaicun straightened his back in his seat. The childish stubbornness and hazy drunken words seemed to separate from the person before him again. The aura around him sharpened once more, his eyes like ice and snow reflected on a blade, vaguely revealing a hint of clarity.

“…What?” He could only murmur in repetition.

Chu Huaicun’s voice was as light as a sigh, yet incredibly solemn:

“You are the person I have been looking for. No one else should have to prove it.”

“I found you, Ji Ying.”

“I am not him.”

Even then, Ji Ying’s words were still a pale defense, uttered without thinking. He quickly recoiled as if burned by his own words, tightly pressing his lips together. He cast a pleading gaze towards Chu Huaicun, not even knowing if the other was still drunk.

As a drunkard, he seemed too sober.

But as someone feigning drunkenness, the heavy scent of wine mixed with floral fragrance emanating from him at that moment could not be faked. Looking closely, his eyes still held the haze of melting ice and snow, dimly obscuring his pupils. Yet, his expression at this moment was so focused that Ji Ying, for some reason, clearly realized that this time, he absolutely could not deceive him, nor could he lie.

A drunken swordsman was more dangerous than a sober one; the same principle applied to Chu Huaicun.

All he could think of was escape.

Ji Ying took a step back: “Chancellor Chu, you’ve drunk too much wine, so you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I think I shouldn’t continue speaking with you. You have official duties later, and I also have to return to the palace, which I can’t postpone. I’ll call someone for you…”

“Liar.”

Chu Huaicun said softly, but the two words pierced clearly into his ears.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Ji Ying opened his mouth, not knowing what else he could say, only feeling as if everything around him was ink paper soaked in water, gradually crumbling and blurring, leaving only Chu Huaicun’s eyes, like cold water, looking at him.

“You are nothing like him,” he said, “Aside from the similar-sounding homonym in your name, you never dared to admit anything. He loved eating fish most, so you deliberately didn’t touch a single fish at the Spring Banquet; he liked wearing snow-white robes, so you never dared to wear white in front of me; he was renowned for his integrity, while you are a fawning villain in everyone’s eyes, bowing and scraping to power—”

“…” Ji Ying wanted to say something, but he closed his eyes.

“You say you are not him, right?”

Ji Ying painfully averted his gaze, feeling as though his entire being was being scorched by fire. But before he became the person he was now, wasn’t there indeed a great fire that consumed him entirely? Many times, he forgot why he lived, and he forced himself to change all his past preferences.

But it wasn’t until Chu Huaicun pushed him to this point that he once again turned his gaze, seeing that pale reflection, trampled and polluted, then discarded into an unfindable corner.

He could not possibly lie again.

“I know you won’t say it,”

Chu Huaicun said softly, “because you don’t dare to face me. Ji Ying, open your eyes and look at me.”

Opening his eyes again, it was like the heavy snow covering the branches rustling down, finally revealing a vibrant color. This tenderness belonged unmistakably to the gentle and indulgent youth of over ten years ago. In the long song of time, he cast a sigh-like glance, and then quickly vanished without a trace.

“Chancellor Chu,” he said, “I am not the Young Master Lin you knew.”

Chu Huaicun’s gaze was far sharper than a blade, cutting into him, leaving him covered in wounds. Ji Ying rose slightly, his deep purple sleeves with their dark patterns subtly shimmering. He knew Chu Huaicun wanted to believe him, yet also did not want to. After so many years, so many years of barely surviving in the mysterious iron dungeon, this identity had long reduced the idea of meeting again to a self-deprecating fantasy.

But truly acknowledging him, he felt as if a raw, bleeding heart had been torn out, leaving only a pang of sorrow.

He reached out and blocked Chu Huaicun’s gaze from him. That gaze made his breathing slightly unstable, unable to maintain the composure of his speech. Suddenly blocked, yet the obstruction was the other’s slender knuckles, Chu Huaicun’s gaze silently darkened, but he made no move, only blinked, his eyelashes brushing against the other’s most sensitive palm.

“I’m not him, don’t ask again in the future.”

Ji Ying said softly. He suddenly reverted to the elegant gentleman who had clapped in rhythm and sung by the lakeside for him, “Huaicun, just do what you want to do.”

Chu Huaicun was surprised at his own composure. He knew he was still drunk—this was a clear self-awareness as a drunkard—but he forced himself to maintain this clarity amidst the intoxication, and haphazardly asked a worst-case scenario question:

“What if I were to plot treason, defying all under heaven?”

This was merely a test.

“If that’s what you want.”

In the dim view, the light of the candle could vaguely be seen penetrating Ji Ying’s palm, showing a hazy red halo in the thin areas. Chu Huaicun couldn’t see him, but he could imagine his expression; this person was surely gently smiling at him, saying indulgent words. Even in memory, he was from the purest of scholarly families, his back as straight as bamboo.

“I don’t want you to leave a notorious name in history,”

the figure before him suddenly became that mud-stained treacherous official again,

“He who steals a hook is executed, he who steals a nation is made a marquis. If Chancellor Chu has such an intention, your talent would not be wasted, and I will exert my full strength.”

Chu Huaicun felt his mind hazy from the wine fumes, but he almost blurted out, his voice very soft:

“Then how do you wish to be recorded in history? As the deceased, nameless Young Master Lin, or as a sycophant loyal to a misguided monarch of the former dynasty?”

As if stung by this question, the smile on Ji Ying’s face did not disappear, but slowly faded. Chu Huaicun could not see, but he could guess the bewilderment and pain in the depths of his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think I am him.”

“Then what identity are you speaking to me as now?”

Chu Huaicun’s voice grew softer and softer. “An unnamed person from an opposing faction, someone who coincidentally has various ties to an old acquaintance, or a fleeting lover who isn’t even willing to admit their true identity, yet demands that I save you without knowing anything?”

“More than that,” Ji Ying said with difficulty, “Chu Huaicun, His Majesty has always been looking for your weakness.”

“And you are afraid of becoming my weakness.”

Chu Huaicun stated calmly, as if this matter no longer held any confusion.

An overwhelmingly powerful and arrogant official examining someone with such a gaze would likely make another person self-reflect in fear and flee the capital overnight. Ji Ying dared not let him look, yet he could not stop him from looking.

“I’m drunk,”

Chu Huaicun said, “I can forget everything I just said, if that is your wish. You don’t want me to recognize you. You want to forever be Ji Ying, to seize the day with me, but not to indulge too deeply. That way, I won’t have to deal with the Lin family, and with those rotten old affairs stained with blood. Then, one day, you will suddenly disappear, and I will still get what I desired, everything perfectly timed.”

His change of expression was faster than flipping a book.

After a long pause, Ji Ying “hmmed” softly: “That’s very good.”

Before he had finished speaking, Chu Huaicun stumbled and turned to leave. Dressed in snow-white, his demeanor was different from the person he wished to mourn, adding a layer of detached coldness that inspired awe.

His footsteps echoed one by one, and Ji Ying felt his heart being trampled underfoot, each new sound seizing his nerves.

Although he had long anticipated such an outcome, Ji Ying still forced himself not to blink, watching Chu Huaicun move further and further away from him.

He had things he had to do, and things he absolutely could not do.

Chu Huaicun’s voice suddenly rang out, as if breaking a dream, or beginning a new one.

He walked into the shadows that even the moonlight couldn’t find, about to disappear from view, leaving only the scattered cups and plates in the pavilion, but suddenly stopped:

“…Yuan Ya.”

Ji Ying’s lips parted slightly, unsure whether he should respond to that name.

“I’m really leaving,”

He was probably truly drunk, feeling the long-suppressed heat in his internal organs suddenly erupt, even his eyes growing hot.

He was like that stubborn youth from back then, and also like an exiled immortal who only briefly lingered for one person: “Unless the person I’ve been waiting for tells me I can’t leave. This is the last chance.”

Why force it, why insist?

Why feel nostalgic, why indulge in fleeting joy?

But there was an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

“Huaicun,” almost at the same instant he realized this, Ji Ying couldn’t control the impulse to blurt out, “Don’t go. You… turn around and let me see you again, please, okay?”

He exceptionally used the word “please.” Chu Huaicun paused slightly. He raised his hand, as if wanting to do something, but ultimately made up his mind, leaning against the doorframe to turn his head. This man, from his very bones, was cold-hearted. Coupled with his snow-white attire, he was like an exiled immortal banished from the nine heavens, showing no worldly emotions.

Now, tears welled up in his eyes, and with a blink, they almost fell.

He quietly looked at Ji Ying in this state. Although he was crying, his demeanor was not at all submissive, nor fragile. He still maintained a cold and indifferent gaze, just looking. Ji Ying felt as if the flesh on his body was being flayed alive, and he couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat. He quickly took a few steps forward, almost without thinking, and embraced Chu Huaicun.

“Don’t cry,” he awkwardly comforted him, “It’s my fault, I won’t be like this anymore.”

Chu Huaicun knew he was just unable to control himself due to the alcohol.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so undignified. This didn’t just refer to the present moment; even his previous interrogations should have been more subtle. But he had ruthlessly used a blade to cut open the blank paper that had always obscured the space between him and Ji Ying, regardless of whether the blade would hurt him or the other person.

But at this moment, he thought of nothing else, only trembling as he reached for the other’s clothes, tracing the curve of the other’s back little by little, as if trying to piece back a long-lost part. And the other person, flustered, comforted him, admitting almost everything, unable to conceal it any longer.

In the familiar aura from the past, he clearly saw Ji Ying in this moment: the ruthless and cunning him, the flustered him from a kiss, the him forced to bend his back, the him crying and saying he was in pain.

The strong liquor finally blurred his consciousness once more. He remembered that he began to complain without blame, began to almost petulantly demand indulgence, began to kiss the other’s brows and eyes little by little under the moonlight. He was half-drunk, and naturally deserved leniency.

Chu Huaicun wasn’t sure how drunk he was, only remembering that he finally whispered to him:

“You were already my weakness.”

When Chancellor Chu woke up in the morning, Ji Ying had already left the Chancellor’s residence.

A hangover headache immediately enveloped him. He subconsciously adjusted his collar but noticed that the bed beside him was rumpled, looking as if someone had slept there. In his ice-like eyes, kiss marks on his neck were reflected. The other person had clearly been unrestrained, kissing him quickly and fiercely, so much so that they hadn’t faded yet.

Yesterday’s memories flooded in, suddenly rushing into his mind.

Chu Huaicun’s pupils slightly constricted. He calmly covered these marks, still appearing composed and as if everything was under control. But his fingers almost couldn’t tie his jade pendant, stiff as if knotted.

Smelling the constantly burning incense in the room, the scent the other person had once loved most, and his eyes filled with the brilliant white of his clothes, Chu Huaicun at this moment almost avoided thinking, but the whimpers and most intimate sweet nothings the other had uttered when aroused seemed to be right beside his ear, and images from last night flashed before his eyes, the red marks left on his pale skin—

Chu Huaicun pressed the sword at his waist.

The cold glint of the sword calmed him slightly.

Before, it was all just speculation, not yet a reality. Not only was Ji Ying feigning ignorance, but he himself was too.

Chu Huaicun sobered up, feeling that everything that had happened was too incomprehensible. His usually indifferent expression finally showed a crack. Even the black book, arriving belatedly, fluttering its pages before him, could only remind him of yesterday’s dialogue.

“Chancellor Chu,”

the black book scrawled, seemingly happy for him,

“You really could recognize him! Although I didn’t become a matchmaker between you two, I still contributed to this matter. How do you feel now? Is it—”

Chu Huaicun tapped the book page.

His aura remained cold and aloof, and his clothes were slightly disheveled, but it did not diminish the brilliance of his eyes, which were like frost and snow. But at this moment, for the first time, he seemed a little flustered, like a youth on his first date with someone he liked:

“It really is him.”

Chu Huaicun himself became flustered first. Even when enemy troops besieged the city in the past, as the chief general, he had never been like this.

“I actually did those things to Yuan Ya. He’s such a noble gentleman, isn’t this a blasphemy against him? How could I have such thoughts? Last night, I clearly recognized him, and yet… But the first time I met him, I already—”

He recalled what had happened then, his grip on the book page tightening more and more, so much so that the black book struggled under his hand. Chu Huaicun then came back to his senses, forcibly pulling himself out of moral self-condemnation.

“At least I should have pursued him first,”

Chu Huaicun murmured, clearly knowing it by heart, yet still quickly reviewing it in his mind. “What does he like now?”