By the lake, under the trees, a gentle breeze, wild grass.
Luo Congye felt dazed amidst the dislocation and overlapping of time and space.
He seemed to see that pale boy again, whose sleeve was half-soaked in blood.
He was very tall.
Luo Congye had to tilt his head back just to see his face.
He had wanted to give the boy a hug.
But instead, he ended up throwing himself into the boy’s arms.
However, things are different now.
He could easily—
A warm embrace carrying the scent of tequila pressed against him, and Bai Heting’s eyelashes trembled slightly.
“Isn’t this something you do when you’re sad?” He asked, yet his body showed no resistance at all. Instead, he buried his face into the nook of Luo Congye’s neck and took a sniff.
This time, he was finally certain that Luo Congye’s pheromones smelled good.
Luo Congye held him without saying a word. As a child, he had been so energetic every day that it worried his mother; he had never known what it felt like to be exhausted.
He had absolutely no idea what his mother would do when he was tired.
But he decided to invent something on the spot.
After a moment of thought, he let go of the embrace. Under Bai Heting’s puzzled gaze, he moved forward a couple of steps on his knees and sat side by side with him under the tree.
Just as Bai Heting was about to speak, Luo Congye suddenly reached out, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and pulled him toward himself.
The body beneath his hand stiffened for a brief moment, but quickly relaxed, falling over along with his movement.
Everything sank into the twilight, and the one he had long admired collapsed into his embrace.
The slanting sunlight dyed Bai Heting’s fine, soft hair with a gentle layer of dark gold.
Luo Congye averted his gaze.
With a firm thigh pillowed beneath his head, Bai Heting found it a bit novel. He also suddenly realized a fact—all of his experiences with physical intimacy seemed to come from Luo Congye.
Before he could remember things, had Luo Wanyin ever held him?
Bai Heting didn’t know.
It wasn’t until he met this child at the age of fourteen that he learned for the first time what it felt like to be embraced by someone.
Suddenly, everything became clear to Bai Heting, and a heavy burden was lifted from his heart.
That sudden burst of unusual emotion finally found a proper justification—his body was only touched by this brat, so naturally, the boy’s pheromones should only be smelled by him.
It was perfectly fair, highly logical.
Bai Heting adjusted his resting position and looked up, but he could only see the silent line of Luo Congye’s jaw.
Suddenly, a thought struck him.
“Were the dates good?” He asked.
Luo Congye looked down at him briefly before casting his gaze back toward the distance.
He didn’t know what kind of day it was today, but the steward had sent people to distribute dates to everyone in the entire estate. Yet at the time, he had been in no mood to enjoy delicacies. Moreover, those dates were bursting with sugar, cloyingly sweet, and honestly hard to swallow.
He had only eaten one.
But just now, he had distinctly caught a glimmer of anticipation in the general’s eyes.
Luo Congye went against his conscience and said, “They were good.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he quickly glanced back down.
The corners of Bai Heting’s lips curled into a shallow arc, clearly very satisfied with this answer.
Luo Congye secretly let out a sigh of relief.
Having received the answer he wanted, Bai Heting fell silent and turned his head to follow Luo Congye’s line of sight.
The sky stretched high and clear, the mountains lay tranquil, and the long autumn days drifted peacefully. Amid the picturesque fall landscape, Zhenzhu lowered its graceful neck and devoted itself entirely to grazing on the grass.
A minute later, Bai Heting finally couldn’t watch any longer.
“What’s so interesting about horses eating grass?” He asked again.
Luo Congye withdrew his gaze and looked down at him.
It was that hesitant expression again. Bai Heting said impatiently, “If you have something to say, just say it.”
Luo Congye spoke bluntly, “Why call it Zhenzhu?”
It was a completely foolish question. Bai Heting said, “Every one of my horses has a name.”
The general didn’t seem to understand what he was really asking. Luo Congye said earnestly, “But it looks so beautiful.”
That’s exactly why it’s called Zhenzhu. Bai Heting found his logic strange, “Are pearls[mfn]Zhenzhu is translated as pearl.[/mfn] not beautiful?”
Luo Congye pursed his lips, his expression becoming even more complicated than before.
When he was fifteen, he would often catch river mussels in the wild river near his living quarters. When he pried them open, there would be those things called “pearls” inside. They weren’t big, nor were they round; their surfaces were bumpy and pitted, a far cry from the illustrations in books.
Luo Congye shook his head and answered truthfully, “The meat is quite tasty.”
Much tastier than those sweet dates.
But he didn’t dare say that sentence out loud.
Bai Heting blanked out for a moment, then burst out laughing. He finally understood the source of Luo Congye’s confusion. He had thought the exact same thing when he was a child.
This time, the one who blanked out was Luo Congye.
So, the general could actually laugh.
His peach-blossom eyes curved into crescent moons, and the small beauty mark beneath one eye seemed like a star beside the moon, quivering softly in time with his low, husky chuckle.
The stars and moon in the dusk were breathtakingly beautiful.
Luo Congye stared, completely dazed.
Having laughed his fill, Bai Heting coughed softly. He reined in his expression slightly, his tone carrying a hint of interrogation, “Back when you were secretly reading books as a child, did you never sneak a look inside that mahogany chest of drawers in the library?”
