The next day, autumn rain fell over Chuzhou City.
The weather was abruptly cool. Washed by the night rain, the cassia trees drooped under branches of shattered gold; their clusters of buds poised, ready to unfurl.
On a stone table in the inner courtyard of the Fang residence sat a white porcelain water bowl. Two swallowfish, one green and one purple, darted back and forth beneath the verdant bowl lotus, having long since passed the point of danger.
The mute uncle had gone to the kitchen early in the morning.
San Bao helped him for a while, then waited for the sun to come out before running into the house to fetch a birdcage. He hung it from a branch above the stone table. The branch dipped beneath the cage weight, shedding two half-yellowed green leaves; one falling into the water bowl, the other settling onto the stone table.
Fu Jingxuan was still asleep with half of his body pressed against Fang Zesheng, his arms wrapped around the other party’s shoulders.
The great fire last night had incinerated Wang Xiuhe’s life’s work and destroyed her ambitions. In the end, the issue of the manifest was only a trigger. Wang Xiuhe had stayed with the Fang family for years, all the while harboring ill intent; it was just that, in those earlier days, she still retained a trace of conscience, aware of the Fang family’s kindness and that she ought not desire too much.
However, of all the obsessions of greed, anger, and ignorance, the sea of greed is the hardest to pacify.
Having once slept in the snow, she naturally never wanted to feel that kind of cold again. Her repeated claims of being unwilling to leave the Fang family were, in truth, an unwillingness to leave the soft pillows and rich silks of the household. The more she dwelled on it, the more she feared the Fang family would drive her out. In the end, she resolved to go all in, seizing that opportunity as a pretext to thoroughly strip the Fang family of everything they had.
Deep within her heart, she might have been deliberately evading the truth all along, seeking to use that misunderstanding as a veil to cover her own hideous features.
Fang Zesheng forced his eyes open, his throat rough, and his eye sockets throbbing with pain. He lifted his hand to brush the corner of his eye, only to be met with a sharp sting. The skin around his eyes felt swollen.
He remained in a daze for a long while to piece together the memories of last night. Then he turned his head slightly and quietly watched the sleeping Fu Jingxuan.
They had spent days and nights together during this period, yet he had never looked at him with such singular focus. Now that a heavy stone had been lifted from his chest, he wanted to look at him closely; to see how much his appearance had changed since their youth.
It seemed he had changed yet also had not.
The person before him had merely shed his youthful boyishness; his features were now more sharply defined.
Fang Zesheng curled his fingers and tentatively touched the tip of Fu Jingxuan’s nose. Seeing that he didn’t wake up, he then caressed his cheek.
It turned out there was a new, faint scar on his smooth forehead, and his eyelashes seemed a bit longer. There were two very, very shallow fine lines at the corners of his eyes; he loved to laugh so much that in a few more decades, there would likely be more.
That’s right, what about that extremely hidden small mole below his earlobe?
Fang Zesheng touched his earlobe and saw that the round, brown dot was still hidden there. He moved his hand to the other party’s forehead and speculated in an extremely soft voice, “Did you fall?”
“No.”
Fu Jingxuan, who was still in his dreams, suddenly spoke. He caught Fang Zesheng’s wrist ahead of time, keeping the other party’s fingers pressed against the scar.
He didn’t open his eyes, murmuring as if talking in his sleep, “I got scratched by a wire while weaving a birdcage. It didn’t hurt much, but it left a scar.”
Fang Zesheng was startled at first, but seeing that Fu Jingxuan’s eyes remained closed, his curled fingers relaxed. He slowly traced the scar for a long while. “Why did you weave a birdcage yourself?”
Fu Jingxuan snorted. “It was that fellow Fu Jingye. He couldn’t beat me openly, so he went to my courtyard to cause trouble. I had just bought two goldfinches that year and hadn’t even enjoyed them enough before he secretly let them go and trampled my birdcage.”
Fang Zesheng felt a sense of relief and asked, “Then what happened to Fu Jingye?”
Fu Jingxuan kept his eyes closed and raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you ask how I felt?”
Fang Zesheng said, “Your mood was naturally bad.”
“Haha,” Fu Jingxuan said. “More than just bad; I was nearly fuming with rage back then.”
Seeing that although he spoke of anger, the corners of his eyes were tilted up with amusement, Fang Zesheng also relaxed his brow and asked, “What did you do?”
Fu Jingxuan said, “I had someone deliver a few erotic booklets to him, and while he shut himself away to read them until his face flushed, I lured my father over. My father may not excel at much else, but he has his own methods for disciplining Fu Jingye; he promptly took out a ruler, gave him a sound beating, and made him copy the Classic of Tea a hundred times.”
“When your second mother found out what really happened, I suppose she chalked up another offense against you?”
“Naturally. She is simply biased.”
Fang Zesheng said, “There is a difference between kin and strangers.”
“Indeed,” Fu Jingxuan said. “Although I don’t get along with her, I can understand her actions. Whoever conflicts with her interests is her enemy. You can’t necessarily say she is sinister; at most, she just isn’t a virtuous person.” As he spoke, he pressed closer to Fang Zesheng’s side. “But when it comes to the hearts of people in this world, at least half are no different from her. I’m the same; if Lady Wang hadn’t laid a hand on the one I love, why would I have gone a thousand miles just to drag her down from where she stood?”
Upon hearing this, Fang Zesheng’s face flushed. He lowered his gaze and tried to withdraw his hand.
Fu Jingxuan let go of him and, with his face turned up like a blind man, asked, “Can I open my eyes now?”
Fang Zesheng hesitated for a long while before giving a soft affirmative. When Fu Jingxuan lifted his eyelids, their eyes met directly.
Followed by a long silence.
Fu Jingxuan climbed onto him, sitting above his knees, and asked, “Is there really no sensation left in your legs at all?”
Fang Zesheng said calmly, “There used to be some sharp pain before, but not anymore.”
LFu Jingxuan nodded, imitating a physician’s technique by feeling around his legs. Since Fang Zesheng had no sensation, he allowed him to act as he pleased and did not speak.
Who could have guessed that Second Master Fu harbored ill intentions and would begin feeling further and further up? In the end, he was actually reaching between his legs and even trying to pull down his trousers!
Fang Zesheng was instantly startled and hurriedly covered himself with both hands. “What are you doing?!”
Second Master Fu replied with a straight face, “Checking for you, of course; to see if this part of you can stand up or not.”
“It can.”
“Hmm?”
Fang Zesheng said decisively, “It can stand; there is no need for Second Master to trouble yourself.”
Second Master Fu had always been easygoing; seeing that he refused to let go, he did not press him either, only lowering his voice to ask, “How is it managing to stand?”
“……”
“Does it stand up when you think of me, or when you’re thinking of someone else?”
“……”
“If it’s when you think of me, what did I look like then? Was I dressed or bare?”
Fang Zesheng’s face was already flushed, but now it turned into a deep, congested crimson, the color spreading even down his fair neck. He closed his eyes, and a few images actually flickered through his mind; he hurriedly shook his head, wanting to raise a hand to cover his eyes, yet fearing that if his hands left that vital spot, Fu Jingxuan would strip his trousers after all.
Left with no other choice, he could only remain indignantly silent while glaring at him like a spiteful child.
Fu Jingxuan was so amused by this expression that he burst into a loud “haha” of laughter, laughing so hard he nearly rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Fang Zesheng rushed to free one hand to steady him; once he was secure, Fang Zesheng immediately resumed his stern expression and covered himself again, wishing he could find a crack in the floor to crawl into just to get away from him.
At that moment, the mute uncle came rushing in from outside. Seeing this scene, he first froze in shock, then accidentally caught sight of where Fang Zesheng’s hands were placed. He was suddenly struck with embarrassment, not knowing whether to retreat or stay.
Fang Zesheng hurriedly pulled over the quilt, wrapping Fu Jingxuan inside it along with himself as they covered up. “What is it?”
The mute uncle wanted to laugh but didn’t dare, so he suppressed it and made a couple of gestures toward the door.
Trapped beneath the quilt, Fu Jingxuan struggle to poke his head out and caught the mute uncle’s meaning just in time.
He exchanged a brief look with Fang Zesheng, then climbed out of the quilt, put on his shoes, and went to the window to open a shutter.
In the courtyard outside knelt a person dressed in an emerald skirt, carrying a bundle on her back and holding a length of white silk in her hands.
It was Cui’er, Wang Xiuhe’s personal maidservant.
Fu Jingxuan only spared her two glances before looking up at the clear morning sky. He said cheerfully, “Fang Zesheng.”
“Hmm?”
“The weather is quite nice today. How about we head out for a stroll and see the autumn scenery?”
