Miss Ji~
Yunlai Inn was the largest inn on East Cross Street. Though called an inn, the ground floor hall actually operated as a wine tavern, selling whatever seasonal beverages and foods were in vogue. Occasionally, they would hire a qin player to perform as entertainment, indeed making it seem more elegant than other inns and taverns. However, because most who stayed here were merchants of varying scales, the decorations inevitably carried a whiff of wealth and vulgarity.
The noble young masters of the capital seldom came to such places. After all, not far away, in East Third Alley, one could find places filled with soft red scents and continuous singing and dancing, where high elegance and low vulgarity coexisted harmoniously within those three streets and four alleys—that was the true money-burning den of the summer capital. If one sought pleasure, that was the place to go.
When Yu Jinnian entered the shop, faint qin notes drifted through the air, playing “High Mountains and Flowing Water.” Yet inside, people shouted, toasted, clinked cups; it all felt rather incongruous.
Duan Ming carried a basin out, intending to change the water. Standing beside the upstairs railing and casually glancing down, he suddenly spotted that little ancestor and was so startled he took a big step back. He stood dazed for a moment, then randomly grabbed a passing attendant, stuffed a few silver beads into his hand, and whispered: “See that little young master down there? Go, send him away. Be polite and don’t hurt him.”
Although the attendant did not understand why, one would be a fool not to take money. Without a second thought, he tucked the silver beads into his sleeve and headed downstairs.
The rooms in Yunlai Inn were not large; the so-called superior rooms were only slightly more delicately furnished.
Deep in one such room stood a carved bed draped with gauze curtains, and beneath the window in the outer area was a desk suitable for writing and painting. At this moment, a figure sat behind the desk, half-naked, with several circles of white gauze wrapped around his chest and abdomen, and a smoky-gray cloak draped over his shoulders. He wore no proper garments nor tied his hair. Although his complexion looked better than a few days ago, it still lacked rosiness. Right now, he toyed with a piece of tianhuang stone in his hand.
A faint bitter scent lingered in the room.
On the other side of the desk stood a young woman, dressed simply and lightly made up, looking quite pretty and delicate. But when she spoke, she was not so gentle. As she packed her things, she rattled off complaints. After a long string of words, she looked up and saw that the person was not listening at all. Feeling annoyed, she waved her hand in front of his eyes, then reached for the plate of pastries on the table: “I told you to recuperate, but you won’t listen. Every time I come, I only see you carving that stone. What’s so good about that broken stone? You deserve to strain your eyes.”
“Don’t move.”
“……”
Ji Hong stared at her until she put the pastry down, then lowered his gaze again and gently brushed away the stone fragments with his fingertips. In a cool, indifferent tone, he said: “Miss Wen, you should go back now.”
“Miss Wen, Miss Wen, all you remember are those three words: Miss Wen. Every time you need me, you call me. When you don’t need me, you say ‘Miss Wen’?” Wen Sisi snorted displeased. She tilted her head to see him swiftly scribble a few mirrored characters for engraving on a piece of paper. They were reversed and thus not easy to recognize. After trying to decipher them several times, she read aloud: “Yu… something Nian…” She did not recognize the middle character at once and mumbled, “Who is this person?”
Ji Hong said: “Someone unrelated to you.”
Wen Sisi had a sudden insight: “I know, it’s that young man you brought into the street a few days ago! The one who saved General Lu’s child, truly remarkable! It’s spread around the capital that he’s the descendant of a divine physician, capable of reviving the dead. The injuries on your body… were they inflicted because of him? If he really has such medical skill, I should get to know him…”
“You talk too much.” Ji Hong still showed no mercy in interrupting her and ordered, “Duan Ming, see Miss Wen out.”
Wen Sisi sighed and picked up her small box, pursing her lips: “I don’t know who’s been helping you all these years. Some people are really ungrateful!”
Just then, Duan Ming tiptoed back into the room and placed the copper basin on the stand, wailing: “We can’t get downstairs, that little ancestor has come!”
With a sudden “scratch” sound, Ji Hong nearly sliced his left fingertip with the black metal carving knife he held. He furrowed his brows. The faint blood smeared onto the carving, but he did not notice, not until Wen Sisi exclaimed happily: “Really, speak of the devil! I must go see!”
“One more word, and I’ll shut down your family’s pharmacy.” Ji Hong set down the carving knife and put the half-carved tianhuang stone into his sleeve. He stood up, lit a tinder, ignited the small stove used for brewing tea, then took out a few pellets of sandalwood and musk incense from the incense basket and tossed them all into the charcoal fire. In an instant, a strong fragrance overflowed, somewhat choking.
But the bitter medicinal smell in the room was not as noticeable now.
“……” Wen Sisi became even more curious. She wondered just how fierce and brutal that young fellow was, to scare even the impenetrable Ji Hong. She just had to see his true face. Since someone forbade it, she would just sneak a peek!
And this so-called “fierce and brutal” Yu-something Nian was currently walking around the tables, observing the diners’ faces.
The bribed attendant approached him smilingly. Seeing that the young master was clearly well-dressed and valuable, he thought he might earn a second tip. He immediately beamed: “Customer, are you here to eat or to stay? Today our braised pork shank is wonderfully fragrant. Paired with a pot of Eighteen Immortals wine, that’s a flavor! Won’t the young master sit and try it?”
“If I buy your braised pork shank, you must help me find someone.” Yu Jinnian looked around.
The attendant kept smiling: “Who does the young master wish to find? People come and go here; all who come and go are people!”
Yu Jinnian took a small item out of his money pouch at his waist and tossed it into the attendant’s hand: “A real eye-catcher, a beauty.”
The attendant, though greedy for money, saw that the master upstairs was obviously more intimidating. He reluctantly looked at the small silver nugget, rubbed his hands, and changed the subject: “Young master, you must be joking. We’re no flower pavilion, where would we find beauties? We have plenty of tasty and fragrant dishes and wines. If you don’t like braised pork shank, we also have roast chicken, roast duck, roast goose, marinated tofu…”
This useless chatter gave Yu Jinnian a headache. Suddenly, he noticed a gentle and graceful young lady lifting her skirt as she came downstairs, carrying a small box like a dressing case. Passing by him, she stirred a breeze of her sleeve. Yu Jinnian’s nose twitched, his pupils narrowed. He subconsciously turned his head for another look, as if to bore a hole into the woman’s departing figure.
The attendant was still listing dishes. Yu Jinnian pushed the attendant aside and strode up the stairs, heading straight to the westernmost room on the second floor, from which that woman had emerged. Climbing up, he fumed inwardly: Some so-called high-born royal, when he wanted to disappear, he did so thoroughly, ignoring people at will. Could it be that at the critical moment he realized hugging a soft, delicate young lady was better?
A young lady…
Yu Jinnian stopped walking. Yes, no one said he couldn’t like a young lady. The attendant caught up with him, blocking him at the door, fumbling and stuttering “we don’t have the person you’re looking for,” trying to explain, when the boy suddenly asked: “Was there a young lady in this room just now?” The attendant broke into a sweat, worried about spoiling their patron’s affair. He stuttered for half a day, not knowing how to respond.
Suddenly, “creak”—the door before them opened.
Yu Jinnian looked up and saw the person who had caused him to sulk for several days. Instantly, his eyes drooped down in gloom, staring sullenly at him.
“Master, I…” The attendant struggled to explain that he wasn’t negligent, but the other man only sighed softly, waved a hand for him to withdraw. The attendant immediately fled downstairs, refusing to get involved in this messy affair. Yet once downstairs, he could not help but look back. The atmosphere between the two was strange. The young one seemed angry, but aside from anger, there seemed to be something else. He could not decipher it, but felt curious and peeked secretly from beneath the staircase railing.
Stepping forward, the two faced each other across the threshold. A gentle breeze stirred the man’s hair. Before Ji Hong could react, Yu Jinnian stepped in, turned around, and pushed him inward. The open door and window let the wind pass through, making the decorations sway. Ji Hong’s back pressed against a multi-treasure shelf. A slender-waisted red-glazed vase on the shelf trembled and fell headlong.
With a clear, crisp sound, it shattered. In the boy’s clear eyes, there seemed to be a slight tremor. Ji Hong, being stared at, found it harder to focus his thoughts, paying attention only to those eyelashes trembling in the breeze. Feeling increasingly guilty, he inappropriately thought… has he grown taller again? Ji Hong’s mind wandered aimlessly, failing to find a good excuse to explain himself, and the next moment, the boy stood on tiptoe, aggressively pressing a kiss onto him.
Downstairs, the attendant only saw the two crashing together, embracing like a man and a woman. Two overlapping edges of different colored garments dangled from the doorway, now tangled into one another, indistinguishable. The attendant was speechless in shock. He saw the door kicked shut with a bang, sealing the extraordinary scene inside.
Ji Hong froze, unsure of the situation, and was forced to accept a humid, full kiss. At first it was frantic, mouth pressing in greedily without rhyme or reason, fierce as if wanting to swallow him entirely. This lasted for quite a while until Yu Jinnian’s tongue tip was bitten a few times, and only then did Ji Hong regain the initiative. He supported the boy’s waist and guided him to calm down and soften the kiss.
In truth, he was inwardly nervous, afraid the boy might notice something wrong with his body, so he wanted to pull away, but could not bear to. This room was not the most expensive in Yunlai Inn, but had a good orientation: opening the window one could see the lanterns under the eaves across the street. Yet what he wanted to see was not those lanterns, but the person beneath them.
Ji Hong held him in both arms, gently patting his waist: “Why did you…”
He wanted to ask why he had come, but on second thought, wasn’t it because he himself had avoided him these last few days? Surely he was here to confront him.
“Did you read it?” Yu Jinnian suddenly asked. Holding onto the man’s shoulders, he rose on tiptoe again and pressed a damp kiss against his lips, cutting off Ji Hong’s words. He stood against the window’s incoming light. His figure was dark, but his eyes shone like sparse starlight in a night sky. Ji Hong did not understand, and the boy repeated, “The book I gave you, did you read it?”
“……” Ji Hong suddenly remembered the matter and his ears immediately flushed red. He awkwardly stared at Yu Jinnian.
Seeing him like this, he must have read it. Though the weather was warm, he was wearing several layers of clothing. Yu Jinnian lowered his gaze and noticed that the jade belt buckle at his waist had shifted a fraction askew, as if it was hastily fastened. The room was filled with rich incense, as if to cover up some special scent. This was truly trying to hide something, and Yu Jinnian’s heart sank many fathoms. The feeling that welled up within him was indescribably complex. Unconsciously, he raised his hand and fiddled with the pair of white jade belt buckles at Ji Hong’s waist, asking softly, “You read it, was it good-looking… have you tried it?”
Ji Hong was naturally slow in such matters, and further restrained by aristocratic virtues. He had only dared to glance at that lewd book a few times. It still lay under his pillow. He did not dare leave it in the carriage, fearing that Duan Ming and the others would find it while cleaning, and thus had not had a chance to experience the contents. As to whether it was good-looking… he had not seen others, so how could he compare?
While he was pondering, the young man lifted his eyes, revealing a pair of reddened corners as if he had not slept well for many days. The listless color contrasted with how he fiddled with the jade buckle, murmuring: “Have you… tried it with someone else, like that…”
“——How could I!”
At last, he came to his senses. Ji Hong’s expression changed several times, his lips opening and closing, unsure what to say. Anything he said now sounded like a feeble excuse that no one would believe. If he said no, how would he explain that Wen Sisi who had just left his room? If he said yes, he must be mad. He suddenly felt as though he had fallen into a trap of his own making. After all these days of struggle, he was still caught by the wings.
He did not speak, so Yu Jinnian stepped back half a pace, as if to leave. Ji Hong promptly grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his arms. His earnestness and anxiety were palpable. The cool fingertips pressed into the boy’s hot wrist, instantly warming it to the same temperature. He had not expected his grip to be so tight, making the boy grunt softly in pain.
Ji Hong realized this and loosened his grip slightly, but did not dare let go. He carefully confessed: “No. That kind of… only with you…” Just mentioning doing the things depicted in the pictures with him, or even talking about it, felt too explicit. Such a thing was unimaginable to him, so shameful that he could hardly utter a word. His thin lips subconsciously pressed together, unable to form half a syllable.
He forced himself to say something, but it would not come out smoothly: “I did not know.” Under the boy’s gaze, he swallowed a few times, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. In a lowered voice, as if afraid others would hear, he said, “I did not know that a man and another man could… do that.” He could not finish the sentence, trailing off halfway, his long lashes drooping as he looked at him pleadingly.
Yu Jinnian craned his neck, frowning: “Are you lying?”
Ji Hong thought of a scene from that book—a fair-skinned boy, not at all resembling the one in front of him. Yet inexplicably, the youth’s slightly furrowed brows, the faint pout of his lips when unhappy, and the flushed corners of his eyes all seemed to drift into that book. Seeing them made him think of those blush-inducing illustrations. His back pressed against the multi-treasure shelf, and the freshly bandaged wound on his chest began to ache faintly. He realized that his breathing had changed, pulling on the tightly wrapped bandage.
He grasped Yu Jinnian’s hand, wanting to press it against his own chest, but worried he would feel the layers of gauze beneath his clothes. Unsure what to do, he ended up just holding it, rubbing gently: “Look at me… you know if I have or not.”
Yu Jinnian blushed instantly, shaking him off and curling his fingers: “How would I know!” He turned around and saw several small plates on the desk. Some were empty, some were not. He moved closer to take a careful look and recognized them as the snacks sold in his shop these days. For takeaway orders, he always gave customers a bowl-shaped slip of paper he had cut himself, so they could write down their opinions after tasting and return them when they had time.
Under a porcelain paperweight, there were at least a dozen of these slips. Judging by the number, it looked like he bought from the shop three times a day. He saw words written on them, picked one up to read, but had only managed a line or two before Ji Hong snatched it away and stuffed it into his collar. In a panic, Yu Jinnian managed to seize half of it. Fearing Ji Hong would take that half too, he fled to the depths of the room in two or three steps, jumped onto the bed to read.
Half a torn paper, two characters: “Longing.”
Yu Jinnian glared at him, wanting to ask, “You took my paper, who are you longing for?” But before he could speak, Ji Hong confessed. He took out the stack of slips from his collar and spilled them onto the bed. Yu Jinnian casually picked a few and read them. He soon fell silent. Though he knew no poetry or rhyme, he was not stupid. Whether they were written for him or not was clear at a glance. Sitting on the bed, he flipped through them all and went to gather them up. When Ji Hong reached out, Yu Jinnian slapped his hand: “They’re mine!”
“I wrote them,” Ji Hong said.
Yu Jinnian glared: “You wrote them for me, so they’re mine!” He hastily gathered the small slips together, pulled out a piece of plain silk to wrap them carefully. He wanted to hide them in his robe but worried about creasing Master Qingluan’s handwriting. Finally, he lifted the pillow cover, intending to press them underneath and retrieve them later when he left.
Lifting the pillow uncovered another hornet’s nest—that lewd “Wild Fox Saliva” was hidden under there too.
Both of them reached for it swiftly, their fingertips colliding. The book fell to the ground, pages fanning open. It showed a spring wind over ten miles, red quilts rising like waves, and a boy as pale as if plucked from a vat of milk. His eyes glanced flirtatiously outward, every detail meticulously depicted, shocking the heart. Coincidentally, a breeze carried a few withered petals of peach or apricot blossoms in through the window. The delicate pink landed right on the most unspeakable spot in the painting. Half the scenery covered, it felt even more like a futile attempt to hide it.
Originally, there was nothing too terrible. Yu Jinnian had bought this book at a high price from a peddler, said to be the work of a painter from a previous dynasty. He had skimmed it once and not thought much of it. But now, seeing it again before Ji Hong, he lost the boldness he had when secretly stashing it on his carriage. Fear crept over him. He clutched the “love letters” he received and slipped down clumsily, muttering like a mosquito: “The shop’s busy, I’m leaving.”
Ji Hong grabbed him and pulled him back onto the bed, picking up the book with his right hand and shaking off the dust: “You’re already here.”
Yu Jinnian fell back into the bed. Amidst the confusion, he smelled the furnace incense again, mustering courage: “As if I never came. You already have someone!”
“Whether I have someone or not, try it and see.” Ji Hong came forward, trapping him in his arms. He lowered his head to kiss him, pecking lightly on the boy’s forehead, then slowly downward, pressing their lips together to savor carefully. The warm breeze gently stirred the gauze curtains, and Ji Hong’s hand, like the wind, softly undid his collar. His low voice was like silk brushing past one’s ear, intoxicating: “These days… I missed you. Watching you from the window cannot compare to the real you.”
Yu Jinnian felt that once he encountered him, all his defenses crumbled into dust. A few words of sweet talk tore them to shreds. Without noticing, he let himself be guided forward, muddled and dazed. By the time he came to his senses, all his clothes had fallen to the floor, leaving him naked like a lamb to the slaughter, while the other remained fully dressed. His collar layered and neat, like a virtuous monk observing the rules.
What was this? Not even willing to undress? Yu Jinnian sobered up, suddenly pushing Ji Hong away. His palm pressed against the most injured area on his chest. Ji Hong hissed in pain, but instantly suppressed it, leaving only the faintest crease between his brows.
“How did this happen?” Yu Jinnian was keen and could not have failed to notice. He questioned at once.
“It’s nothing. Yesterday I bumped into a table corner,” Ji Hong said.
“Don’t lie to me.” Yu Jinnian seemed to have caught the crux of the past few days. He flipped himself over and pushed Ji Hong down, glaring round-eyed as he warned him not to move. His fingertip unhooked the jade buckle at Ji Hong’s waist. He peeled layer after layer, like shelling a peanut, removing the hard shell and then the red skin beneath to reveal a white, tender kernel. His considerate actions were mesmerizing.
Removing the clothes revealed several layers of white gauze crisscrossing his chest, bruises peeking from beneath. Yu Jinnian’s expression instantly changed, shock and pity mixing together until they formed a familiar look on his face: knitted brows, reddened eyes at the corners, and lips bitten tight.
That was exactly what Ji Hong did not want to see. He did not need him to know what injuries he suffered or to worry about them. He only needed him to do what he wanted without scruple—cooking, healing, growing flowers and herbs.
What came next from the boy, Ji Hong could already imagine.
Although this move deviated slightly from his initial plan, it was not entirely a bad move. After all, having his injuries discovered and seeing the boy so distressed brought Ji Hong a strange sense of satisfaction, as if he had used these wounds to gain something precious.
Even though he originally did not plan to let him find out.
Yu Jinnian carefully touched the gauze on his chest and lifted a layer. Underneath, there were mottled bloodstains, though most had crusted over and would not easily reopen. He asked with heartache: “Does it hurt?”
Ji Hong held his hand and shook his head.
Despite not wanting to think it, Yu Jinnian could not help wondering: was it because of me? For what reason? Who did this? A flurry of questions rushed into his mind, clamoring to escape his throat. Yet what came out was the most irrelevant one. Feeling both sorrowful and amused, he reproached him: “You’re wrapped up like a zongzi and still thinking of getting on top of me, how big is your heart!”
Ji Hong smiled: “I’m already fine.”
Indeed, he was already fine.
In Duke Li’s residence, he was the only son. For him to shoulder the affairs of the Ji family so steadily, he had paid a heavy price. Outsiders did not know and thought it natural, filial piety to the ancestors. Who would have expected Ji Hong to suddenly throw down the burden, move out of the Ji mansion as he said, and sever ties so firmly, even declaring he intended to spend his life with a man, showing no inclination to ever marry or take concubines?
How could the Ji family tolerate such a rebellious child, let alone the youth who led him astray? They had tried multiple times—persuading, scolding, reproaching, with countless elders coming and going—yet Ji Hong was unmoved. With no way to handle this illegitimate son, the Ji family people tried to trouble the boy, but Ji Hong’s men silently blocked all attempts.
The Ji family never knew that the once submissive and compliant illegitimate son had gained such power in the capital, enough to openly defy his father.
Although Duke Li was old and sickly, he remained lucid. He knew the family’s branches and twigs were unmanageable, with few truly capable heirs. Even those with talent were separated by layers of bloodline, not as trustworthy as a direct descendant. Moreover, affairs inside and outside the palace required skillful management, and one misstep could doom the entire family. At this critical juncture, the Ji family could not afford any turmoil.
Seeing that they could not handle this illegitimate son, they had no choice but to compromise.
This was the first time the Ji family compromised with Ji Hong, and it also meant that the center of power in Duke Li’s estate was shifting from the old Duke to Ji Hong. He obtained all of this just by kneeling ten days before the ancestral hall—things he had planned to give up were ultimately delivered to him intact. Counting carefully, he had actually made a profit.
How could that not be good?
Ji Hong pulled over a small blanket and draped it over the young man’s shoulders, yet the vivid spring scene before him became even more colorful. His gaze drifted downward, wandering to places where shadows overlapped into unfathomable darkness, and he could not tear himself away. He casually dropped the bed curtain: “Now everything is better than ever. In the future, it will only get better.”
Yu Jinnian suddenly clutched the small blanket, realizing only then that he was naked. Ji Hong laughed at him, yet did not make it difficult. Instead, he asked if he had eaten. Yu Jinnian turned the question back on him: “What if I have eaten, what if I haven’t? Are you going to order dishes from my shop again? First tell me why you avoided me—because of this injury?”
Ji Hong knew he would definitely be ridiculed for this. Back then, when he was injured and dared not show himself, relying only on objects to ease his longing was indeed foolish. He flipped over to press the young man beneath him. Yu Jinnian dared not touch his wound and could only let him have his way. They tumbled under the covers, sweating together. Afterward, Ji Hong leaned down, gently holding his neck, complaining, “Your mouth is the fiercest when it comes to nagging a person.”
So even this prestigious lord, who could walk sideways through the capital, feared being scolded. Yu Jinnian was amused and snorted, “You knew you’d be scolded, yet still got hurt like this! You… where are you touching?” He reached down to grab at him under the blanket, both becoming tangled up, unstoppable. The “Wild Fox Saliva” by the pillow fluttered in the wind, stirring up the desires in his heart. Picking it up, he deliberately tormented this “upright gentleman,” saying, “Have you finished reading it? This page, explain it to me.”
Ji Hong caught a glimpse of the page from the corner of his eye and instantly looked away as if scalded. He lowered himself, begging softly, “Jinnian, don’t make it hard for me.”
“Just this one page.” Yu Jinnian’s tender fingers pinched the spine of the book. He flipped over to straddle him, playing with the man’s eyelashes. Softly, ever so softly, he teased at his ear. He harbored malicious intent, seeking revenge for the way Ji Hong had hidden his injuries and stayed away from home. “Take a closer look and we’ll view it together.”
Ji Hong’s breathing hitched. He snatched the book and tossed it aside, pulling the boy down for a kiss. He was so flustered he could not speak, only following his own desires. Yu Jinnian had no idea that there truly existed such innocence—that he had never read a single forbidden text. He really was like a rare gem, pure and untainted. Finding it novel, Yu Jinnian teased him even more, calling him a treasure rarely seen in this world.
Back then, when they first tasted these pleasures, Yu Jinnian had taken the lead. Now, delving deeper, it was still Yu Jinnian teaching. He might not have thick skin, but next to someone whose face was thinner than paper, he seemed utterly shameless. Ji Hong was injured, even though the wounds had scabbed. Yu Jinnian remained vigilant, not daring to let him move too much and pull at his injury.
If the cloud would not move, then I will move.
His heartbeat quickened, the temperature inside the curtains rising. Even someone who could never truly warm up would be slightly heated by now.
Outside the window, early summer quietly arrived. Virginia creeper climbed the walls, bright green leaves and tendrils reaching through the window cracks, like tiny claws hooking onto the carved window lattice. The wind made a rustling sound. An unknown bug crawled along the creeper vine and flew onto the table, buzzing its greenish-yellow wings. Inside the room, everything was still and safe, except within the bed curtains where something subtly swayed.
The bug licked a crumb of pastry, its antennae twitching alertly at the swaying silhouettes. It was ready to flee at any moment. Yet even after finishing the sweet crumb, that rising and falling movement had not stopped. So it nibbled another piece and even curled up under the creeper leaf to rest. A snail slithered across a leaf, leaving a winding trail of shiny mucus, then hid into the dense foliage, occasionally poking out its head to enjoy the sunlight.
Everything seemed peaceful. The greedy insect did not know it had already delivered itself to the hunter’s doorstep.
Suddenly, a happy spider slid down the wall, spewing white silk and charging toward the insect that had drifted into sweet dreams. The crumb fell into an abyss, sticky silk ensnaring prey. The clear sky filled with dark clouds, rain pouring heavily.
A stalemate, a struggle, a desperate last stand.
The insect’s fragile wings were pinned by the spider’s slender legs. Sharp claws pierced its belly, pulling out a faint dying chirp.
Raindrops poured onto the leaves, making them greener and stems wetter. A fine, frequent sound disturbed the windowsill. Rainwater pooled in the shallow leaves, and when it grew heavy, it bowed the leaf tip and trickled down, drip by drip onto the ground.
Wind howled, insects cried, rain fell.
A sparrow flew to the windowsill for shelter, unwilling to venture out again.
The spider’s silk got wet, loosening slightly. The trapped insect took a desperate chance, beating its wings to escape. The sky was high and the clouds vast—beyond this window lay freedom. The spider, seemingly off its guard, suddenly swung its forelegs, pinning the climbing insect and mercilessly dragging it back. Firm, dense silk once again bound it tightly.
This time, there would be no escape.
Light filtered in, a slight mist twined. The leaves continued their gentle rustle.
The happy spider slowly pulled the insect back into its woven net. The insect’s spirit shattered, collapsing in the spider’s web. Soft silk layers wrapped it tightly, leaving it powerless as it gazed off into the distance. The spider leisurely readied itself to enjoy this meal.
Outside, scattered petals were blown inside, swirling and landing on the back of a hand protruding from the bed curtains. The hand withdrew, picking up the petal and pressing it against crimson, moist lips. Long fingers fiddled with the petal, the lips parted on their own, the tender petal sinking into the moist darkness, swallowed whole.
Scattered all around inside the curtains were those small slips of paper, each filled with love poems. One fluttered down, landing in a slightly smaller boot by the bedside. Another was clenched in someone’s hand, half a sentence about eternal love visible through the fingers. In the incense furnace, the sandalwood and musk pellets had long since burned out. The rich scent was scattered by wind and rain, and a different smell faintly mingled in the room. When the bed curtains were lifted by someone, that scent thickened for a moment, then slowly faded as the man carefully closed the bed curtains again.
The rain lightened and the wind gentled. He walked over to shut the window and relit the small stove, slowly brewing a pot of water. Only then did he return to the bed, gathered the person in his arms through a thin blanket, gently patting the boy’s back, kissing his lips tenderly, licking away tears at the corners of his eyes, soothing him patiently again and again.
——
When Yu Jinnian opened his eyes, he was awakened by the sound of the wind rattling the window leaves. He lay dazed for a while, unsure what day it was, let alone where he was. The only memory in his mind was yesterday’s dizzying, indulgent rocking. He could not recall clearly afterward, as if drifting between pain and numbness until he fainted, or maybe he held his breath until he passed out. In any case, his mind was in chaos.
He rubbed his head and tried to sit up. Suddenly, a surge of soreness hit him from behind. He had never felt such a sensation before and immediately cried out in pain, collapsing back down and pitifully starting to cry… He truly did not mean to cry, but that sensation forced hot tears from his eyes. Using the back of his hand to wipe them, he heard urgent footsteps. A figure blocked the light before the bed.
“A Hong?”
A hand reached out, wiping away the tears at the corner of his eye, then slowly propped him up. A thick cushion was placed behind his back so he could lean comfortably.
Yu Jinnian opened his eyes and looked at him, pouting with grievance: “Where am I… Is this Jinyouting?”
“It’s my fault,” Ji Hong admitted his wrongdoing right away. He lifted his robe’s hem and sat beside him, pulling the thin quilt up. Then he took Yu Jinnian’s hands out and pressed them atop the quilt. He brought over a bowl of soup, which smelled faintly of milk, “I lost control and hurt you. You fainted afterward, so I had no choice but to bring you home.”
“Black-bone chicken and milk soup, they say it’s very nourishing. Take a few sips.” He blew on the soup to cool it. Behind him, a stack of documents rose a foot high on the desk, but he focused only on the matter at hand, feeding him spoon by spoon. Yu Jinnian blinked and swallowed each mouthful. When the bowl was almost empty, he playfully bit the porcelain spoon, softly grinding the edge with his slender, pointed teeth.
The taste was not particularly pleasant, but since Ji Hong was feeding him, it felt sweet as honey.
“Let go,” Ji Hong’s fingers, long and pale, pinched the spoon’s handle. His face flushed a bit, as if recalling yesterday’s events. Yu Jinnian, who was the one truly suffering, did not feel embarrassed, yet here Ji Hong, who had enjoyed it, was now shy.
Yu Jinnian whimpered, “I’m in pain.”
“W-Where does it hurt?” Ji Hong panicked, immediately setting down the bowl and moving to massage his waist and legs. Yu Jinnian kicked him, muttering, “It’s not my legs, and not my waist! Are you stupid?”
Ji Hong realized and choked, speechless. He rubbed the rim of the bowl, head lowered silently. Compared to Yu Jinnian, who felt as if his body had been torn apart, Ji Hong seemed more like a shy bride who had just left her maiden home, too embarrassed to lift her head after a few teasing remarks. No wonder people wanted to call him “Miss Ji.”
Yu Jinnian flopped back onto the pillow, resigned to his fate.
Then, unwilling to give up, he tapped his own lips, blinking pitifully: “I’m like this… show me some pity…”