Fu Jingxuan had always been outspoken in front of Fang Zesheng, and now that he had made his feelings clear, he was even more unscrupulous. He stole kisses and pulled him into hugs whenever he liked, bullying a cripple who had no way to escape and could only flush helplessly in response.
The mute uncle had not left Fang Zesheng’s side for many years. But now, occupied with household duties and the management of servants, it was no longer convenient for him to accompany him. He could only uneasily stuff a coarse cloth pouch into Fang Zesheng’s hands before telling him to keep it safe.
Fu Jingxuan lifted the carriage curtain and, seeing his worry, reassured him, “Don’t worry, Uncle Zhou. With me looking after Fang Zesheng, nothing will happen.”
The mute uncle gestured, It is not just the Young Master I am worried about. Second Master, you must not play too wildly either. You mustn’t behave as you did in childhood; like a horse loosed from its tether, running wild and leaving everyone anxious.
Fu Jingxuan saw him pointing at the horse and laughed twice, then assumed the air of a mature and steady young gentleman. “Uncle Zhou, the way you see me is still frozen in my childhood. It’s been so many years; I’ve changed again and again; I’m no longer the same person I was.”
The mute uncle squeezed a strained “Aye” from his throat and gestured: It is my own shallow sight. Even so, you must mind your own safety.
San Bao climbed onto the front of the carriage clutching a pocket full of glutinous rice cakes. Sitting beside the driver, he said crisply, “Uncle Zhou, don’t worry. With me and this brother driving the carriage, everything’s taken care of. You and Zhou Qi just mind the household. When we come back the day after tomorrow, we’ll catch some autumn grasshoppers and fry them up for you!”
The mute uncle smiled at the words before waving goodbye to San Bao’s round face, which had grown two sizes fatter since arriving at the Fang household.
Afternoon.
The brisk breeze was invigorating, and the scenery shone fresh and vivid. To the steady clatter of hooves over green grass and damp earth, the carriage made its way along Zhengyang Street, passed through the gates of Chuzhou, and continued toward Qushan Pavilion on the outskirts.
Qushan Pavilion was not a single pavilion at all; like Mount Yuming, it was simply a place name, situated five li beyond the city and so called for its mountain path that twisted through nine bends and ten turns. There was indeed a pavilion at the end of the mountain road, but it was merely a later construction built to suit the scenery, not a historical relic.
Since Fang Zesheng had difficulty moving his legs and could not climb the mountain, Fu Jingxuan had the coachman follow the official road, stopping and starting along the way to enjoy the roadside scenery.
Along the way, the landscape unfurled in lively abundance; grasses and trees flourishing, bridges arching over streams, farmhouses dotting the fields, and tea plantations stretching into view. After eight years of cut off from the world, everything Fang Zesheng beheld felt new and wondrous. Occasionally, he would lift the carriage curtain to steal a glance, then withdraw his gaze and replay the image twice in his mind to savor it carefully. In all the years since his legs were broken, he had only gone out twice. The first time was when he went to the eating house in the East Market with Fu Jingxuan to see Tao Xianzhi off; at that time, he had no heart for the scenery, fearing Fu Jingxuan would take back his affection and truly run off to the Southern Pavilion to seek pleasure.
The second time was now, and Fu Jingxuan was sitting right across from him, going nowhere.
At the thought of Fu Jingxuan, Fang Zesheng froze for a moment, then expressionlessly lowered the curtain and sat upright in the carriage.
Fu Jingxuan turned his head back from the window. Just as he opened his mouth to speak to Fang Zesheng, he noticed him sitting there with a calm, strikingly handsome face and eyes closed as if the mundane world held no sway over him. He couldn’t help but tap his folding fan and cry out in feigned surprise, “Fang Zesheng, look quickly! What is this? How have I never seen such a thing before?”
Fang Zesheng’s brows twitched, and his eyes shifted beneath his closed lids, yet he did not lift them.
Seeing that he wasn’t falling for it, Fu Jingxuan casually pinched the carriage curtain and shook it twice before stamping his feet in a hurry, “Quick, look! What on earth is that? How come I have not seen it since I was a child?”
Fang Zesheng frowned, curling his fingers slightly. After a long silence, he leaned his head forward and quietly opened one eye.
It would have been better if he hadn’t looked; the moment he did, he saw Fu Jingxuan somehow standing directly before him, tugging at the skin on his own face and saying, “See that? Turns out it’s an unparalleled gentleman surnamed Fu who has fallen into the mortal realm.”
“Pfft.”
Fang Zesheng kept one eye shut. He tried to hold back a laugh but couldn’t, so he pressed his lips tightly together, turned his head to the side, and coughed softly through the bridge of his nose.
Knowing he was feeling a bit shy, Fu Jingxuan simply sat down beside him and lifted the curtain to look out with him.
The carriage moved at a leisurely, even pace. As it veered onto a country road, an orchard came into view, branches heavy with blazing red pomegranates and apples; so, enticing that they made one’s mouth water and stomachache with desire.
Fu Jingxuan called out, “Stop”, and nimbly jumped down from the carriage. He took a stroll near the orchard; it was unattended with only a few scarecrows swaying in the wind at the edge of the fields. Second Master Fu scouted left and right for a moment, then returned to the carriage to unload Fang Zesheng’s wheelchair. He helped him down, rummaged through the carriage for a bamboo basket containing pastries, emptied them out, and placed the empty basket on Fang Zesheng’s lap.
Seeing these actions, Fang Zesheng knew exactly what he intended to do. “The owner isn’t here; it’s better not to touch other people’s things as you please.”
Second Master Fu was generous: “It doesn’t matter; we can just leave a few silver ingots when we go.”
Fang Zesheng knew he couldn’t dissuade him and didn’t care to press the matter further. After a moment’s thought, he let the other party push him toward the fruit grove.
San Bao naturally followed along. He stood beneath a sturdy pomegranate tree and leaped to reach a ripe red fruit. However, the tree was too tall, and San Bao was too short; after a few unsuccessful hops, he had to look for another way.
Fu Jingxuan stood under the tree to gauge its height, then tucked the hem of his long robe into his waistband and climbed straight up the trunk.
Even though Fang Zesheng knew he could climb, he still raised his hands worriedly, holding them out in the air as if to catch him, fearing he might slip and fall. He hadn’t expected Second Master Fu to be so fit; as nimble and agile as a youth, climbing up in just a few movements before raising an eyebrow at him.
Fang Zesheng’s gaze was soft as he told him to be careful.
From up there, he could reach the ripest, reddest fruit. Since they were paying regardless, they naturally chose the finest. Each time he picked one, Fu Jingxuan would crouch down and carefully place it into the bamboo basket Fang Zesheng held aloft, not daring to toss it for fear a misthrow might strike Head Merchant Fang on the head.
After half an incense stick’s time, this pomegranate tree was about to be stripped bare by Second Master Fu. Just as he was preparing to climb down and find another tree to bully, a group of tenant farmers appeared in the distance, brandishing hoes and shouting, “Catch the thief—!”
“Catch the thief ah—!”
Fu Jingxuan cast a casual glance over at first, not taking it to heart, even counting the number of people rushing toward them as his hand moved to his purse—
Wait? Where is the purse?
Second Master Fu blinked and spotted San Bao still hopping around under another tree. “How much silver did you bring?”
San Bao had finally managed to yank down a handful of leaves. Hearing his master’s question, he hurriedly patted his waist—
Where is the purse?
San Bao froze in shock before tossing the leaves aside and frantically fumbling at his chest—
Oh no!
“Young Master! We forgot to bring the silver!”
Fu Jingxuan was struck with sudden alarm; of all his calculations, he hadn’t accounted for this. The distant tenant farmers came swarming in brandishing their hoes, frightening Second Master Fu into scrambling down the tree and sprinting straight toward the haystacks deep in the fruit grove. As he ran, he realized something was wrong. He turned his head and saw Fang Zesheng sitting blankly in his wheelchair under the pomegranate tree while holding a basket full of round red pomegranates, staring at him dazed…
In their childhood, the two of them often scaled walls and climbed trees. Every time they were caught and scolded by their elders, Fang Zesheng would follow closely behind Fu Jingxuan or grab his wrist to run ahead of him. Just now, Second Master Fu felt as if he had returned to his youth, still assuming Fang Zesheng had a pair of good legs and could still follow him closely as before.
The tenant farmers who had rushed over to catch the thief had already surrounded Fang Zesheng. Just as Fu Jingxuan was about to turn back, he saw Head Merchant Fang unhurriedly produces a purse and hand it to the farmers carrying hoes.
Fortunately, the mute uncle had the foresight to help bring some extra silver before they set out, allowing them to escape the ordeal.
Fu Jingxuan sheepishly rubbed his nose and returned to his side after the farmers had left.
Fang Zesheng glanced at him without a word. Not only did he remain silent then, but he didn’t speak for nearly an hour afterward in the carriage.
He stopped looking at the scenery, closing his eyes as if he was asleep.
“What happened just now was indeed my fault; in my haste, I forgot you.” Second Master Fu glossed over the specifics without a detailed explanation, busying himself by attentively massaging the other party’s shoulders and then his legs. Although those legs had no sensation, the Second Master’s attitude was earnest as he looked at him in the face and said, “But who wouldn’t feel guilty when acting like a thief? It’s only natural to lose one’s footing for a moment.”
Fang Zesheng remained silent and turned his head away.
Seeing that he had elicited a response, Fu Jingxuan followed his gaze and turned his own head. “I only remembered you midway through my run, but by then those farmers had already encircled you. Seeing they meant you no harm, I stayed hidden with San Bao.”
This scene was somewhat similar to their childhood. Fu Jingxuan had been mischievous since he was young and often got into small bouts of trouble. If Fang Zesheng wasn’t there, Madame Cheng would discipline him. If Fang Zesheng were present, he would inevitably be the one to take the blame or shoulder part of the responsibility. Whether he did so willingly or not, each incident would still end with the two of them at odds.
If Fu Jingxuan was in the wrong, he would proactively admit his mistake; if he wasn’t, the two would remain in a deadlock, ignoring each other until they could stand it no longer and awkwardly chose to reconcile.
This time, the fault clearly lay with Second Master Fu. Unable to get a response from Fang Zesheng no matter what he did, he could only sigh. “Perhaps I should just jump from the carriage to prove my devotion with my life, so I won’t have to trouble your sight anymore.”
Knowing full well he wouldn’t jump, Fang Zesheng still opened his eyes, seemingly having reached a conclusion during his long silence. “That’s right. Husband and wife are birds of the same grove; when disaster strikes, each flies their separate way.”
Seeing him speak, Fu Jingxuan had intended to seize the chance to coax him, but his attitude shifted instantly upon hearing those words. He said suggestively, “So you admit we are husband and wife?”
Fang Zesheng froze, carefully processing the sentence before hurriedly closing his eyes again.
